Ron's Yearning

The Gryffindor common room was a safe haven for every member of that house. Its large, crackling fire and invitingly vibrant walls and furniture were popular places to spend time with friends. If muggles knew about the place, they’d probably "hang out." At the moment it was empty, due to dinner in the Great Hall.

But, sure enough, the portrait swung open (Surly Swill!) and Ron, Hermione, and (you guessed it) Harry walked in, talking about Draco. He had been harassing them during the meal to the point where they decided to finish eating and leave. When Ron muttered something about "Once a Malfoy, always a git!" Draco exploded into a series of insults too nasty for even Rita Skeeter to print. Hermione and Harry laughed as they pushed their plates away.

Now in the relaxing light of the fire, they sat down in some chairs, possibly bewitched to be extremely comfortable. Hermione sighed, but it was a contented sigh.

"Oh, Harry! What a great night!"

"Why do you say?"

"I mean, is there anything more wonderful than a quiet evening with friends?"

"No," Ron began, "if your friends are named the Chudley Cannons!"

They all laughed, and Ron grinned. Nothing made him happier than making his friends laugh.

"Don’t worry, Ron!" Harry said. "You’ll be head Chaser with them one of these days! Think how jealous the twins would be!"

Ron closed his eyes in bliss and said, "Yeah! But I’d rather be a beater. More action!" Again, the trio chuckled and quieted down. The fire was hypnotically calming.

Harry checked his watch. "Hm, is it already that time?" He furrowed his brow.

"What time?" asked Hermione.

"I’m supposed to meet Hagrid and help feed one of his Skrewtettes."

"What’s that? A baby skrewt?"

"I suppose. Hagrid didn’t explain too clearly. I guess I’ll find out soon enough!" Hermione laughed and waved at Harry as he crept out of the portrait, pretending to be trembling with fear at the mere thought of a "Skrewtette." Before he closed it he grinned and said, "Wish me luck! Bye guys!"

Hermione kept smiling. Ron noticed. He hadn’t laughed as hard about the Skrewtettes.

"Something the matter?" he asked nervously. Hermione kept staring at the now-closed portrait hole.

She didn’t respond immediately, but kept smiling, a little stupidly. "What?" She finally snapped out of it.

"What’s wrong? You look a little out of it." Ron replied, a little shaky.

"Oh, nothing. It must be the fire…" she responded, a little nervous and a little red-cheeked.

Ron sat back in his chair and watched Hermione. She was still sitting there, thinking about something deep beneath that…well…that pretty face. By this time, Ron knew Hermione meant more to him than simple chum. He’d felt pangs of jealousy when Krum had swept her off her feet, or at least got her to change her hair and teeth. But how far those feelings went…Ron had no idea. He now turned his head to directly look at Hermione, whose mind was clearly somewhere else.

He gasped. Maybe it was the flickering firelight, maybe it was the Dumbledore’s Delights they had for dessert, but Hermione didn’t look merely pretty, as she always had to Ron since right before the Yule Ball.

She was beautiful. Her eyes were closed in thought and half-sleepiness. Ron took the opportunity to look at her as never before. Her face in the warm light looked so soft and inviting, but also independent and mischievous. Her hair wasn’t wild anymore, but like a flowing amber river, flowing into the soft chair’s cushion. Her legs were crossed at an angle that was a little coy, beginning to drive Ron mad. He exhaled.

Calm down, he thought to himself. You’ll close your eyes, and when you open them, she’ll look like old, pretty Hermione. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, Hermione was looking at him, with a quizzical expression on her face.

"What’s wrong Ron? Sleepy?"

Ron sputtered, for she looked even better now. Ron searched his mind. Was it the way she wore her clothes, orderly but still fashionable? Was it her now-perfect smile?

"No—I…I just..um. Was thinking about something…"

"Me too!" she said, a little quietly. "What? Do I have something on my face? Can’t have Parvati tutting me all evening when they get back from dinner!"

Ron had been gazing at her face, guppy style. "Huh?"

"You’re staring at me!" she giggled.

"Oh, no, I was looking at..um…the poster behind you." He winced. He happened to point to the one place where there was no such thing in the room. Quick thinking failed him this time. Hermione saw this, but laughed it off. It seemed she was in a very happy mood.

Ron’s breathing had gone up a notch. He had a sudden urge to satisfy any desire Hermione had, anything she wanted. He was feeling love.

"Hermione," he began, slowly. "What is it you’re wanting right now?" He slapped himself. He was a Weasley, not a sap. The question stood in the air for a little bit.

Hermione seemed to take it in stride. "Well…no. I really shouldn’t tell you."

Ron’s heart sank. He wanted to help her get happy, to show her how much he was beginning to care for her.

"Oh, you can tell little old me. You can always trust a redhead!"

Hermione laughed. Ron beamed. "Except all your brothers, of course!" she grinned, and threw a pillow at him. He laughed again, to make her feel she was good company. She didn’t know she was more than that to him. "Why do you ask what I’m wanting?"

"Well.." Ron began, wishing he hadn’t asked her. It was too much, too soon. "You were kind of staring into space a bit ago, looked like you were searching for answers in your head. I’d be surprised if you didn’t get it from a book already!" he added at the last moment, trying to maintain the lightness of the conversation.

"Oh, allright! I was thinking about…well…"

Ron prayed with all his might, think about me…please…say Ron Weasley, please! Say my name!

Hermione finished: "I was thinking about Harry." She blushed a bit. "What’s wrong, Ron?" He had fallen out of his chair and turned green. Hermione dashed up from her seat and helped him back into his chair. Trying to see what was wrong with him, she sat down on the same cushion.

"I’m allright, just slipped I guess." Ron said, trying to conceal his enormous dissapointment. "What’s so great about Harry?" he blurted. His eyes widened, he shouldn’t have said that. If she wanted Harry, he wasn’t going to stop Hermione from thinking about him. After all, didn’t he want her to be happy?

"Well, apart from saving the world a couple times…I don’t know. He’s so fun, but also a bit serious. Just a good mix. And then there’s Quidditch!" She was getting into a groove, her river of hair bouncing a bit. " He’s just so good, I don’t know how Malfoy thinks he’s better than—"

"You’re beautiful!" There was silence. Ron cupped his hands over his mouth, in disgust with himself. Hermione stared at him, with a look similar to wonder.

"What?" she finally managed. Ron stammered under her inquisitive (and beautiful!) eyes.

"Um, well…well…nothing! Slip of the tongue, a Weasley tradition. You were saying about Harry?" If she wanted Harry, he wasn’t going to stop her. She had to be happy. If she wasn’t, Ron knew he couldn’t be himself.

"Did you just say I…I was beautiful?"she asked, incredulous. She inched closer on the seat. Ron didn’t notice.

"Well…yeah. Ever since that Yule ball, and just now… you…you look amazing." Ron paused, hardly believing he said that. "You’re teriffic, Hermione. Bloody teriffic." With that he hung his head. "If you’re lucky, Harry will feel the same way. Good luck with the youngest Seeker in a century." He began to get up to go lie down in his dorm. Hermione stopped him.

"Ron!" she squealed. "I didn’t say I liked him like that! I was about to say how much Ginny and him would be cute together!" Ron’s sad face fell off immediately.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It makes me so happy when two nice people can get together…"

"Yeah, me too." Ron quickly replied. Especially if it’s us he said deep down. Please.

"Ron," Hermione started. "You have a couple sides, you know that?" She got even closer to him now on the seat. Her leg brushed his. The hairs on the back of Ron’s neck stood straight up. "You can be so funny, like before about the Cannons. But you also be so…so…"

"What?" he squeaked. Every finger was crossed.

"So perfectly adorable." She smiled and leaned over. Ron, very happy indeed about the last comment, braced himself for a hug, which was common but certainly welcome. Instead he felt a warm sensation. Hermione had kissed his forehead. She leaned back again, smiling still.

"B-b-b-b-b," Ron tried to speak. He couldn’t, his grin was too big. "Thanks!" he finally managed.

"Sorry, Ron, was that too formal for you?" Hermione giggled. "Maybe kissing isn’t completely taught by the books."

"You mean," he stammered, "that you…you…fancy me?"

"Well, I’ve always thought you were cute but…oh allright, here’s a secret. Just now, in the light of the fire you looked so…so different. Not just cute but really…really handsome!"

Ron then did something completely out of the books. He flung his arms around a surprised but smiling Hermione and placed his lips on hers. He could feel the electricity of the moment flowing through him, all he loved about this girl was rushing in in the form of a mutual kiss. She was just as involved, now placing her arms around Ron. The two kids became like one nugget of pure happiness. More for breathing reasons than any other, they separated, gasping in wonder at what they had just done.

"Do you--" Hermione began.

"Love you? Yes!" Ron gushed. He never showed this much emotion before. Then again, he had never kissed a girl before.

Hermione laughed, a beautiful sound, and hugged Ron tightly. "I think I do too…" And she broke the hug. Worried, Ron gave a look that asked ‘what did I do wrong?’

"Mr. Ronald Weasley," she began with mock regality, "I invite you on an adventure, to determine how much two people can truly love each other and find happiness."

"I accept, my lady Hermy-own-ninny!" He replied with equally fake chivalry. She gave him a look, but it quickly turned into a grin. She put her arms around him again.

"Ron, your cheeks are as red as your hair!" she giggled.

"Yeah, but it’s definitely worth it!" he exclaimed, in bliss, as he began to attempt to kiss her neck.

"Dare I say…wicked?" said Hermione. Ron looked up.

"Bloody brilliant!" he grinned, and kissed her again, this time swinging her down so her head rested on the armrest. She responded in the way only a girl in love can, with utter passion. "Now—" Ron started, between Hermione’s attempts to bring his lips back down (she was clearly enjoying this as much as he was), "let’s make it clear that this isn’t purely a looks-based relationship…"

"Of course not!" she said while he tried the neck for a second time (didn’t really work, but who cares! They’re in love!) "Although you might not like the looks of me if half my neck is missing!"

"Sorry," laughed Ron. "First-time jitters."

"Then let’s stick with what works," Hermione said, and planted a loving one on his lips. Judging by his response, this was fine by him.

The fire burned a warm orange, silently watching the two adoring Gryffindors sharing a seat and then some, even if it was a little inexperienced.

After a good twenty minutes, Harry peeked his head in the door. After registering shock at the rather romantic scene, he muttered with some amusement, "Should’ve seen this one coming!" and shouted, "The rest of the house will be here in 10 minutes. You’d better finish studying by then!" He winked at the two, who responded with a cheery wave before returning to business. He stepped out and, feeling inspired, went to look for Cho. Hey, anything can happen, right? Harry grinned.