A Vague Plan

Part Four: Wherein the other protagonist gets to speak

"The choice was between you and someone else, and so really there was no contest. You should know that."

Hermione took an almost imperceptible step backward. Her mind scrambled to try and comprehend what Ron had said to her.

It couldn't possibly mean what I think it means. Of course not, that's silly. He's talking about friendship. I would rather have his or Harry's company over anyone else's, so why should it be any different for him?

She made a valiant effort to keep her emotions from running freely over her features.

He picked me over Bitzwagner. He could have gotten a date to Hogsmeade this weekend with her, or at the very least a good snog, but he chose me. He chose me.

Hermione felt light headed and almost euphoric at the idea that, friend of not, she had been his first choice. She faked a cough into her hand to buy herself some time as she tried to think up a response. She didn't want Ron to realize the gross over-analysis she was giving his probably innocuous statement. She almost groaned aloud when she saw that he was giving her the look she had seen on him many times over the past two years, but never quite become accustomed to. The knowing, confident half-grin that made Hermione believe Ron knew every single thing that ran through her head.

Not a comforting idea when she was having decidedly unfriendly thoughts. Ron's eyebrow would rise, his lips would quirk upward just so and his eyes would get an amused glint to them. It was no help to Hermione's composure when that particular expression also made him look devilishly handsome. It simply doubled its potency, and somehow it seemed as if Ron realized that too.

Hermione knew every one of Ron's facial expressions, had subconsciously categorized them in her head. She could tell by simply a look when he was upset, ecstatic or seething with anger. She thought it was probably very maternal of her to worry so much about his wellbeing, but she couldn't help herself.

And of course she was a mother hen. Someone had to worry about those two blundering fools she called best friends. Otherwise, they'd never even bother to get their homework done, they'd miss lunch and dinner in the name of finishing a game of wizard's chess and Godric only knows how many times they would have run themselves blindly into mortal peril without her painstakingly researching the situation for them beforehand.

It was a nice dynamic they had. Hermione was the rationality of the group, the one to stop and really consider all options and make calm, level headed decisions. Ron was the heart of the group. His emotions controlled him, and he was always, always the first person to come to a friend's defense. He tended not to think about the consequences of his actions in the heat of the moment, like when he tried to curse Malfoy with a broken wand because he had called Hermione a Mudblood. Harry was the conscience. He had not been brought up in a healthy, loving family like Hermione and Ron, and because of that he tended to empathize with people more. He was acutely aware of everyone's feelings and, Hermione thought with fondness, that was what made him such a wonderful hero.

Harry. Her thoughts always strayed to him. For the past six years she and Ron had been the only stability in his life. With constant threats against his life during the school year and going home in the summer to those...those...cretins he called family, he had no one to count on, nothing to depend upon except Ron and Hermione's unwavering loyalty and friendship. She had stood stalwart and steadfastly by him, wand blazing, since she was eleven, and she promised herself that no matter what happened between the three of them, Hermione would never knowingly make Harry's life any harder than it already had been.

It wasn't pity that spurned her actions, but a loyalty and love for her friend so fierce it would stun the truest Hufflepuff.

Oh, but Ron. Ron Weasley with his easy smile and his sharp eyes and his lean, wiry body. He made Hermione feel...passionate. Whether it was by working her into a frenzied anger unmatched by anyone, or by causing delicious shivers to trail tantalizingly up and down her spine. The devious redheaded boy in front of her was the only hindrance in her epic mission to Keep Harry Happy. He made her want to say `sod it,' grab him and snog him senseless, consequences be damned.

If she did that, the delicate relationships the three of them shared would be thrown completely off balance, and Harry would feel as if he had been relegated to fifth wheel in the face of a romantic entanglement between her and Ron. It simply couldn't happen, she wouldn't let teenage hormones, fickle as they were, ruin the peace they had worked so hard to create.

In her head, however, Hermione realized all her worries were absolutely pointless. In order for her to even have to contemplate the massive ramifications of their relationship, Ron would actually have to take an interest in Hermione that way. And the prospect of the charming star Quidditch player liking Hermione as more than simply a best friend and confidant was...

"Ridiculous."

"What?"

She started when she realized she had voiced that final word out loud.

"Uh...it's ridiculous that you would come study with me instead of playing Quidditch on a day like this." Hermione was nothing if not quick on her feet.

Ron gave her a cheeky grin and slung a playful arm around her shoulders.

"I think you severely underestimate your animal magnetism, `Mione," he responded.

Hermione rolled her eyes and snorted in an irritation that was negated by her body unconsciously snuggling further into his embrace.

*

Two days later, Hermione stepped out of her Arithmancy class, idly fiddling with her bag. When she looked up and saw Ron leaning against the wall, hands casually tucked in his pockets, feet crossed at the ankles, she inwardly berated herself for the absurdly wide grin that overtook her features.

She did her best to tone her smile down from Giddy to Supremely Pleased.

"Ron, hello. What are you doing here?"

He pushed off the wall and stepped closer to her. She took a moment to marvel at the complete confidence with which he moved. He was no longer the gawky and clumsy boy she knew, uncomfortable with his overly long limbs and lanky frame.

"I was waiting for you."

"Oh."

She had known that was the reason for his appearance, and yet hearing him say it still made her heart pound thunderously in her chest. The Giddy smile came back and was now bordering on Euphoric, a feeling utterly inappropriate for such a small gesture, but it seemed Hermione had lost control over the muscles in her mouth. She couldn't be blamed for anything they did when they clearly weren't obeying her explicit instructions.

"Care to go for a walk with me?"

She thought a moment. Because of scheduling difficulties, Arithmancy was after dinner, so it was nearly seven and she'd barely even started all her other homework. Plus, Professor Vector had assigned the class a particularly tricky set of problems she was eager to dive into.

"I don't know, I have some Arithmancy homework..." she explained hesitantly.

Was it her imagination, or was Ron's smile almost...fond...when she said that?

"If you come with me now, I promise I'll let you explain the problems to me in all their excruciating detail," he said.

Hermione perked up instantly. "Really? You'll really listen and not complain?" She was positively beaming like an idiot.

And now she was certain the look he was giving her was one of fondness. It was then that Hermione realized she had been spending an inordinate amount of time looking at Ron's mouth throughout their conversation. She averted her eyes.

Why would he sit through a lecture on Arithmancy, she thought suddenly, logically. He once threatened to throw himself off Gryffindor Tower if I didn't stop talking about the Geometrius charm and its presence in modern day Muggle architecture.

She gave a mental shrug. If Ron was suddenly interested in anything besides Quidditch and chess, she wouldn't be the one to deter him from it. Anyway, he probably had to discuss something with her, and that was why he was so hell bent on that walk.

*

He didn't.

Fifteen minutes of walking silently, but not unpleasantly, side by side across the grounds, Hermione's curiosity got the better of her.

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" She asked.

He gave a slow shake of his head that made his hair shimmer like burnished copper as it was reflected off the ebbing rays of the sunset above them. Hermione thought it was rather too fetching a look for someone she was desperately trying not to think of as handsome.

Shoving that thought into the back of her mind, she focused on the matter at hand. "Why did you insist we come out here then?"

"It's beautiful," he said by way of answering, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the sky where dark blues, vivid reds and royal purples were blending and weaving together above the horizon. They could make out the Ravenclaw Quidditch team flying around on the pitch, tossing the Quaffle companionably to one another, seeming to zig and zag in and out of the patchwork of colors.

After a moment, Ron continued. "I always thought this was the most perfect time of day. The sky is like poetry."

Hermione eyed him curiously at that uncharacteristic turn of phrase. Then he shook his shaggy haired head to pull himself out of whatever thoughts were going through his head and smiled down on her ruefully.

"Anyway, it's beautiful, and I wanted to see what it would be like to witness it with you."

Happiness she couldn't contain swelled uncontrollably in her chest. "And...?"

She held her breath.

Ron touched her shoulder lightly. "It's even better."

Her traitorous mouth stretched easily into Giddy.

*

He was always outside of her Advanced Potions class so they could walk to the Great Hall for lunch. He was had been there every day for the last week and a half, and he wasn't there today.

Hermione looked anxiously around the hallway for the telltale shock of red hair, but saw nothing. Just as she was about to give up and head there by herself, his familiar voice shouted for her.

She twisted around so fast she almost got caught up in her robes.

"Ron! I'm so glad to see you, I thought you weren't coming."

Hermione wanted to bite her tongue off.

Apparently her loss of control had moved passed her lips and had now encompassed her entire mouth. Was it possible someone was spiking her pumpkin juice? It was ludicrous the things her mouth wanted to do around him.

However, if Ron had noticed she was overly eager to be with him, he didn't show it. Instead, he looked genuinely apologetic, and had a smudge of dirt on his cheek.

"I know, I'm sorry. I had a mild problem with my Somber Weed, it didn't take to me."

Her eyes widened slightly. Somber Weed was known to be pretty dangerous if it was in a foul mood. "Well, are you all right?"

"Oh yeah, don't worry. Neville was there to calm it down."

It occurred to her that getting from the greenhouses all the way to the Potions classroom down in the dungeons was a rather long trek for him. It was a wonder he had been able to get there before she was let out every day before then.

A bit odd, that. Why doesn't he just meet me in the Great Hall? It would be easier for him.

Not that she planned on mentioning that, of course.

"You have some dirt..." she told Ron, stepping until there bodies touched, going on her tiptoes and rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone.

When her eyes happened to lock onto his, she noticed he was looking at her in a way she'd never seen before, but that still made her breath catch in her throat. The only thing she could think was, I've never seen eyes so blue. They were darkened with an emotion she didn't have a place for yet in her category of Ron's expressions.

Stepping back hastily, she looked down at the ground feeling her cheeks go scarlet.

"I'm sorry, I must remind you of your mother."

Ron's vaguely repulsed look made her lips turn up in a confused half smile.

"No, Hermione, I can honestly say that at this moment, my mother is one of the last people you remind me of. And also one of the last people I want to think about."

The intense gleam in his eyes hadn't left, and with an inner mantra of HarryHarryHarry, she moved around him and began to make her way down the hall.

"Let's get going then and meet Harry," she called over her shoulder, wincing at how weak her voice sounded, "I'm hungry."

*

It was almost a week later when he sat across from her in the common room and asked about Hogwarts: A History that her inquisitive mind outweighed the butterflies in her stomach whenever he was near her, and she had to know what was going on.

"Have you gone mad?"

Ron seemed mildly surprised by the question.

"Excuse me?"

"Seriously Ron, have you? For the past two weeks, all you seem to worry about is homework and studying. You're rushing from Herbology to meet me, and taking me for walks, and sitting next to me instead of Harry and saying the sky is like poetry, whatever that was. Now a sudden interest in Hogwarts: A History? I don't understand what's wrong with you. If you don't explain it to me right this second, Ron Weasley, I swear I'm going to cry Polyjuice Potion to anyone who will listen!"

Throughout her rant, Ron had been watching her, head tilted, with an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"It's simple really," he answered after she stopped, "I'm trying to seduce you."

Hermione gasped loudly and the book in her hands fell onto the carpet with a quiet thump.

"Are you sure you're well, Ron?" It was asked almost desperately.

"Oh yes, I'm doing fine, honestly. And you?"

"I'm...good, but you're obviously not. You need to see Madam Pomfrey immediately," she responded faintly.

Ron moved to go around the table separating them, and Hermione jumped up so quickly she knocked over the remaining three books that were stacked on the table.

"I have to...Harry!" She exclaimed.

"You have to hairy?" Ron asked, being, in Hermione's opinion, deliberately obtuse.

"I have to speak with him, I mean. If you'll excuse me."

Without picking up her bag, books or quill, she took off for the stairs leading directly to the girls' dorms.

*

Ron watched her race upstairs until he heard the door slam shut. He lowered his eyes and found himself looking straight at an overeager, sandy haired, Irish face.

"Brilliant! Did you see the way she pelted out of here?"

"That I did. It seems we've moved into step three."

*

Seduce me? Seduce me? He has gone absolutely stark raving mad!

Still, Hermione had to admit, if he wanted to win her affections, he was certainly going about it the right way. She hadn't even been able to completely forget about him while doing her homework, and that was saying something. Of course the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck, the way he smiled so easily when he was with her, and the way she knew he'd stand in front of Avada Kedavra for her in a heartbeat didn't hurt either.

What Hermione couldn't get over was the way he came out and said it. He had looked her straight in the eye and was disconcertingly calm. He hadn't been kidding, and Hermione knew Ron would never play a joke on her, not about something like that. He had been serious.

She became lightheaded with giddiness. Ron might actually...fancy her? Was it even possible? She sat down heavily on her bed. But how could she have missed that?

And Harry. Oh, Harry. Hermione let herself fall so her back and head hit the mattress and her feet stayed planted on the ground. Suddenly her hypothetical worries were becoming very real indeed. She couldn't do this to Harry, she couldn't.

Steeling herself, she pushed off the bed and walked out of her room. She moved hesitantly down the stairs and found Ron standing where she had left him, in front of the table surrounded by her books.

"Ron, can I speak to you for a moment, please?"

"Of course," he agreed easily.

He walked forward, took hold of her elbow and steered her out the portrait hole. "To have some privacy," he explained quietly.

When they were out there, Hermione took three deep breaths and began to speak.

"I'm sure you know what I want to talk to you about. Ron, I need to know...what did you mean a few minutes ago when you said...you said...well you know what you said?"

A small shrug. "I'm seducing you, Hermione. I've fancied you forever, and I thought it would be a good time to let you know."

Hermione took a step backward in a desperate attempt not to throw her arms around his neck and show him she returned his feelings tenfold. Her heart was hammering against her rib cage, seeming to try and escape its place in her chest. She knew that the smile on her face was one step beyond Euphoric, whatever that could be.

She had to stop, she had to take control of the situation. Harryharryharry

Another deep breath and Hermione won the battle with her rogue mouth, and the grin on her face dimmed considerably down to Unending Adoration. She took heart in that small victory. The thought of what she was about to do wiped the smile off her face completely.

"Ron, Ron, listen. I'm...flattered," the biggest understatement of her entire life, "And you know that I love you as a friend. But I don't think of you that way, Ron, I'm so sorry."

I will not cry until I get back into my dorm. I will NOT. I am doing the right thing. Harryharryharry.

Slowly, Hermione looked at Ron's face, which she had been steadfastly avoiding for the while she spoke. She prepared herself to deal with anger or sadness or resignation etched across Ron's face. What she absolutely hadn't been expecting was Ron's blinding grin shining down on her.

"Ron? Did you hear me?"

He nodded confidently.

"Then..."

"I don't suppose if I told you Harry doesn't mind the idea of us dating that you would trust me?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she reeled backwards. How did he...how...exactly what I was thinking. How...?

"It's so much more difficult than you're making it out to be, Ron," she answered when she could find her voice again.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Well then, I'm just going to have to continue with my plan."

"I don't understand. What plan?"

A large hand was waved to indicate the world in general. "All this. I'll make it as enjoyable for you as possible, of course."

"You heard me tell you that I'm not interested in you? That a relationship between us wasn't possible?" Hermione clarified once again.

"I did hear, actually, and you already asked me that."

"Then what are you on about?" She demanded. Hermione was hit with the infantile urge to stomp her foot, place her hands on her hips and demand he explain himself.

"Here's the thing, `Mione. I don't believe any of what you're saying. Not one word of it," Ron admitted.

She gasped and stared at him indignantly. How...how dare he insinuate...oh who am I kidding?

Ron went on seemingly undeterred by the way Hermione's mouth kept opening and closing quite unattractively. "I'm not being conceited, after all, I'm crazy about you. Ask anyone, Seamus, Dean, Harry..."

"HARRY! You dragged him into this?" She allowed anger to overtake her senses in an effort to rid her mind of everything else.

Ron's eyes widened and he floundered a moment. "Ok, ok, I see that I probably shouldn't have mentioned that..."

"Oh, oh Ron, why did you do that? Him of all people?"

"He's my best friend, Hermione, who else was I supposed to talk to about girls, Ginny? Or you? See how well that's worked out so far, huh? Maybe I'll just owl Percy and ask him about it. When he gets a free moment to unsuction his face from Oliver's, I'm sure he'll give me some much-needed advice. Or wait, I know, I'll ask the twins so they can ridicule and taunt me from now until the end of my existence..."

Hermione cut off his diatribe with a rising of her hand; she had already lost track of how many brothers he had gone through.

"Yes, I understand what you're saying, but we have to look out for Harry, Ron, after all he's been through..."

Ron's features took on the slightly manic look they tended to get when he was becoming immensely frustrated.

"HE'S NOT MADE OF GLASS HERMIONE! And he's not 18 months old anymore, he can take care of himself!"

"You refuse to think clearly because of your...feelings." She still found it hard to believe.

"Oh yes, and you're the voice of bloody sanity, are you? Your plan to habitually deny yourself happiness is sure to cheer him right up. He'll be thrilled to know his best friends are miserable because of him."

"I'm not denying myself anything, because I don't want anything from you. I. Am. Not interested!" Gods, that was getting harder and harder to push out of her mouth.

"Not interested, she says!" Ron fisted his hands in his hair in irritation, "Argh! How do you do this to me?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Hermione screamed, then shook her head, the tension in her shoulders dissipating. "Look at us. It always has to be something, hasn't it? We've been best friends for seven years, you'd think that we could have a civilized conversation that doesn't revolve around saving the world. Are you sure you really want to date me?"

"At least we wouldn't be bored."

"Ron, please..."

"No, Hermione, please. You need, no, you deserve..." he stopped talking a moment and collected his thoughts. Finally, he said, "I won't give up. I'm as stubborn as anything. I know you, I know you almost as well as you know yourself. You want this, `Mione, I know you do."

He walked forward to lightly grasp her forearms, and Hermione closed her eyes in an attempt to block out his proximity.

"Stop worrying about everyone else, `Mione. Think about yourself, just this once."

Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw Ron stooped down so he could look directly into her face. He seemed so sincere, and his eyes were like melting cobalt.

Hermione struggled out of his grasp quickly--he didn't try to stop her-- shouted `Juniper Turnips' at the Fat Lady and rushed into the common room and as far away from Ron Weasley as she could get.