The Kiss

Ron sighed as he truged up the stairs to the Library. He was exhausted from Quidditch practice, and he still had what seemed like the most homework he'd ever had in his life. A soft growl echoed through the halls and Ron cursed himself for missing dinner, yet again. Glancing down at his watch, he realised he was an hour and a half late and broke into a slow run--incase he ran into Filch. Last night Headmistress Umbridge had caught a student running in the halls and they'd been sentenced to a week of detention with her. After seeing Harry's hand, Ron knew he definately didn't want any detentions with that masochistic witch.

Rushing through the door, he tripped and fell over Luna Lovegood, who happened to be exiting through the same door.

"In a hurry?" she asked dreamily, while staring up at him.

Ron stood up and frowned at the tear in the knee of his pants. "Sort of. I was supposed to meet Hermione up here more than an hour ago. Have you seen her?"

Luna stood up and wandered out of the library, gesturing vaguely towards the East Wing.

Ron turned and headed towards the other end of the library, avoiding Madam Pince's evil glares, muttering to himself in an attempt to come up with a believeable excuse for being so late yet again. There were several students studying, their books spread out over the tables and even spilling onto spare chairs and the floor, but he couldn't find Hermione among any of the studious students.

He began to worry she'd given up on him and left, when he noticed her off on the back, her nose buried in a book. Ron laughed quietly to himself. Figures. She probably doesn't even realise I'm late. Grinning, he snuck up quietly behind her and jumped out from behind a bookshelf, hoping to startle her. Disappointed that she didn't even jump a little, he flopped down in the chair next to her. "So, got your..." he trailed off, realising WHY she hadn't been startled by him. She was asleep. He started to try and wake her up, but changed his mind. She looked so peaceful, and he knew she was absolutely exhausted. She'd been studying three times as much as him, and she deserved the nap.

Ron silently opened his Astronomy text and began attempting to fill in his star chart. After what seemed like several hours, he dropped his quill in defeat. It was impossible. What with Quidditch, Prefect duties, and the fact that he could now feel his stomach digesting itself... much less the upcoming OWLs to worry about, he knew there was no way he'd be able to finish without help. He sighed and turned to look at Hermione, still sound asleep on top of her Arithmancy text, head nestled in her crossed arms. Somehow, the sight of her sleeping there like that made Ron feel calmer. He smiled and watched her sleep for a moment, listening to the faint sound of her breathing.

After about a minute of debate with himself, Ron decided he could muster up the courage to scoot his chair a little closer to Hermione. She smelled of lilac. She always smelled of lilac, but he could smell it better tonight. Reaching over, he brushed a strand of fallen hair from her face and tucked it gently behind her ear, so as not to wake her. Her skin was really soft. She stirred slightly at his touch and he jumped back, heart racing, he quickly grabbed his quill and pretended to be engrossed in his star chart. After a few seconds he realised she hadn't woken up and he mentally told his heart it could kindly remove itself from his throat now.

Ron looked down at the homework he was pretending to do and sighed in frustration. Did it really matter where Gemini was going to be located next week? Maybe he could try doing something else. Potions? Definately not. History of Magic was more than out of the question. He didn't feel like doing Divination either. He didn't feel like doing anything, really. Absentmindedly, he began to doodle a picture of Hermione on the corner of his parchment. Stopping to examine his masterpiece, Ron realised his drawing of her looked more like a smiling pine tree than a person. He rolled his eyes and wadded the parchment up, stuffing it into his bag.

Looking back at Hermione, he longed to touch her soft skin again and reached over to remove a (this time non-existant) strand of hair from her face. He didn't know why he couldn't tell her how he felt about her. He seemed to be able to come up with plenty of excuses not to, but he could never find one to actually do it. Tonight. He'd do it tonight. Suddenly feeling even more brave, he reached over and took hold of her hand. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth. But... he couldn't. She was asleep. She just... looked so perfect. He could tell her tomorrow. Some other time. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. "Love you, Hermione," he whispered as he stood up.

As he walked away, Hermione, who had been awake since he first touched her, lifted her head up from the table and watched him leave the library. She softly touched her cheek where he had kissed her, and with a smile, whispered, "I love you too, Ron."