FIC--This Kiss--R/H
Feb. 6th, 2006 10:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficsbydeenasTitle: This Kiss
Pairing: Ron and Hermione
Rating: PG13
Words: 3407
Summary: Written for the Ron/Hermione Quote Fic!Challenge on Checkmated.
"A kiss can be a comma, a question mark or an exclamation point." -- Mistin Guett
Told in three parts, Hermione recounts her first kisses and her reactions to them. The story features Viktor Krum and Cormac McLaggen, and stars Ron Weasley as Mr. Perfect Lips.
Author's Note: There are small portions of dialogue taken directly from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
A kiss can be a comma, a question mark or an exclamation point.
Mistin Guett
A Kiss Can Be a Comma (or "Um, Not Right Now…")
The Great Hall of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was filled with hundreds of students buzzing with anticipation, awaiting the start of the Yule Ball. All eyes turned to the giant doors as they flew open to reveal five wizards in black robes with stylish rips and tears. The room erupted in applause as The Weird Sisters galloped onto the stage and stood in front of their youngest fans. Armed with guitars, lute, bagpipes and a cello, the band began a slow mournful song.
At this, she felt a hand on the small of her back as she rose to stand next to the young man. He held out his hand gallantly and she placed hers in his. She allowed him to lead her out into the centre of the room where he began skilfully twirling her around in time with the music. She could feel thousands of eyes upon her and she tried desperately to look at her partner, the first one to ask her to the ball. She was doing a good job of maintaining the facade for his sake, but her own brown eyes kept seeking out a pair of sapphire eyes hidden under a mop of red hair.
After a few minutes, the rest of the crowd joined in, filling the floor with dancers. She scanned the crowd for him, but couldn't see him. Her partner mumbled something to her.
"What?" She turned to look at Viktor's face.
"Herm-own-ninny, are you enjoying the music?" He smiled lopsidedly at her.
"Yes. Yes, I am, Viktor." She managed a wide smile for him.
"They are called The Veerd Sisters?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," she replied. Her eyes found him, sitting at a table and looking miserable. Well, it's his own fault, she admitted to herself. If he'd only asked her sooner, she'd be dancing with him and enjoying herself. It was true that Viktor was very nice and they had a lot in common, but she already knew that what he wanted and what she wanted were completely different things; Viktor wanted Hermione and Hermione wanted Ron.
The change in tempo snapped her attentions back to Viktor, and he began to sashay her around the floor. A laugh escaped her lips as she twirled under his arm and pulled quickly back to him. Viktor smiled again and she forced herself to return the expression. She looked away and noticed the faces of those around her, all sharing the same shocked expression while they watched her dance with an international Quidditch player. I know what they're all thinking, but they don't know how very wrong they are.
The music stopped and the lead singer began to speak, welcoming them with introductions to the band members. Viktor led her to the side of the room, holding her hand too tightly for her comfort.
"Vood you like something to drink?" he asked her.
"That would be lovely. Thank you," she answered. "I'm going to find Harry." ,i>And Ron. Viktor dropped her hand and they separated, going in opposite directions. She walked along the tables, searching for a combination of black and red hair; she finally found what she was seeking and smiled.
They both looked miserable beyond reason. Harry sat alone, obviously deserted by Parvati, and Ron sat with a very annoyed Padma next to him. Her eyes scanned his face as she did every time he wasn't looking at her. His blue eyes, even at a distance, were grey and sad-looking. He kept playing with the lace on the sleeves, trying to pull it off and failing. She crossed the floor, returning the smiles of those around her, and sat next to Harry.
"Hi," said Harry. Ron didn't say anything.
"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks."
Ron gave her a withering look. "Viktor?" he said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"
Another argument between her and Ron followed, squashing her hopes of putting aside their differences and possibly changing the way things were between them. Her anger boiled over and she stood and turned to Ron, yelling and storming away. She crossed the floor with tears threatening to break free. He's such an idiot! Her feet led her to the entrance hall and she found an empty spot near the stairs leading to the Hufflepuff dormitory. She settled onto an empty bench and buried her face in her hands, emptying her hopes with the tears. A soft hand touched her on the shoulder and she turned around.
"Vaht has happened?" asked Viktor. "Vie did you leef?" He sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder and gathered her to him.
"It's just…I thought this would be more fun, and, um," she said in between sobs. She turned her face up to him. "I'm sorry. I should really go." She pulled out of his embrace and took a deep breath. She stood, but he held her back with his hand.
"Eef something is bothering you, you can tell me." His dark eyes bore into hers, searching for an answer. For a moment, Hermione allowed herself to forget her messy relationship with Ron and just looked at Viktor. He leaned over and gently kissed her on the lips, shocking her back to reality.
"Uh, Viktor, I'm sorry. It's just that, er, well, there's someone else," she stammered. "I really need to be alone right now."
"Oh." He paused, a defeated look covering his face. "Vell then, I should go."
"No, Viktor, don't go. I like you," she replied, pausing herself, "just not…"
"…that vay," he finished. He looked deflated and she felt sorry for him.
"One last dance?" She got up and held out her hand to him, smiling.
A Kiss Can Be…a Question Mark (or "Are You Kidding Me?")
There was a tear in the bed curtain that she never noticed before. Hmm, she thought, ,i>when did that happen?,/i> Her thoughts drifted back in time and stopped harshly at what she often referred to as 'That Bloody Night.' That Bloody Night, Ron had hurt her in the worst possible way, crushing her spirit with the heel of his foot and grinding it to a fine powder to be blown away in the wind. That Bloody Night, she'd sunk to a new low, and set a flock of yellow canaries on him, hoping at least one of them would scratch out his eyes or cause some other disfigurement. That Bloody Night, she'd hid herself within the bed curtains, ripping the hole while pulling them around her.
Unfortunately, the birds merely scratched his arms and made him bleed. Pity they didn't do more to his mouth!
As she went down to the Great Hall later that evening, she was nervous, and for her, that didn't happen very often. Tonight, she would make him feel the same kind of hurt he'd been making her feel for the past God-knows-how-many-lonely weeks he'd been slobbering all over her. Hermione couldn't even say the girl's name without having her latest meal come up into her throat.
She entered the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table alone for the first time in six years. She started to play with the stew that was in her bowl when she noticed Harry and Ron sitting a bit down the table. She felt lonely, angry and yes, even sad. She tried not to cry about it, but sometimes she just couldn't help herself. She was lucky, though, because just when she felt that the damn would break, she saw Parvati talking with Harry, and then the girl turned to her.
"Oh, hi, Hermione!"
"Hi Parvati!" said Hermione, ignoring Ron and Lavender completely. "Are you going to Slughorn's party tonight?"
"No invite," said Parvati gloomily. "I'd love to go, though, it sounds like it's going to be really good….You're going, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'm meeting Cormac at eight, and we're-"
There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink and Ron surfaced.
"-we're going up to the party together."
"Cormac?" said Parvati. "Cormac McLaggen, you mean?"
"That's right," said Hermione sweetly. "The one who almost became Gryffindor Keeper."
"Are you going out with him, then?" asked Parvati, wide-eyed.
"Oh-yes-didn't you know?" said Hermione.
"No!" said Parvati. "Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then McLaggen…"
"I like really good Quidditch players," Hermione corrected her, still smiling. "Well, see you…Got to go and get ready for the party…." Hermione got up from her seat and strolled away from the table , letting her eyes fall on Ron, who had a strange, blank look on his face. Once in the entrance hall, she took a deep breath and felt dirty all of a sudden. She didn't plan to say all that to Parvati, but something inside her just wouldn't stop. But somehow, she felt like she was going to have to keep the act up every time she saw Ron in the near future.
Shortly before eight, she found Cormac waiting for her at the bottom of the dormitory stairs, looking rather like a rooster he was so pleased with himself. He looked up and puffed out even more, causing bile to rise up into her throat. She quickly swallowed it back down. I am going to regret this for the rest of my life. Sorry, Ron.
He took her arm and they left the common room and strolled to Professor Slughorn's office. Inside, the room was ablaze with color and the music of mandolins relaxed her enough that she didn't feel the need to vomit anymore. Her eyes scanned the room for Harry and Luna, but they obviously hadn't arrived yet.
Cormac stopped abruptly and she bumped into his back.
"Sorry, Herm. Can I call you Herm?" Cormac asked. He had a terribly evil look in his eyes.
"No, you may not. My name is Hermione," she reminded him.
"Fine." He leaned against the wall. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. What?" She had a sinking suspicion he would ask about Quidditch.
"That Weasley bloke. What's up with the two of you?"
Hermione's eyes widened. I didn't expect that. "Uh, well, Ron and I are friends. We have been for a long time." We had been friends before she entered the picture.
"Just friends?" he asked. Hermione nodded her head, not understanding where he was going with this. "Well, whenever he isn't snogging with that cow, he's always looking at you. And you're always looking at him."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." She truly hadn't.
"So you're not, you know, with him?" If she had a drink, she surely would have choked on it.
"No," she answered. I wish I was, though.
He led her over to some students from the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and she was soon bored by the conversation, which, of course centred on the upcoming matches. After the conversation that lasted entirely too long, he again led her across the room and stopped under a large archway.
Before she could say anything, Cormac swooped down on her and kissed her. Rather well. She felt dizzy and her lips responded to his as he kissed her lightly, giving her time to get used to the situation. His arms reached out and pulled her close, kissing her harder, opening her mouth with his tongue. Her eyes flew open and she saw the look of possession on his face. She tried to wiggle away from him, but he was too strong. Her wand was on her bedside table in her room, and she chastised herself for being so foolish. One of his hands moved into her hair, ruining the careful styling she'd done special after dinner. While she struggled against him, she heard someone clear his or her throat. He released her and Hermione quickly turned around.
She had never been so glad to see Professor Snape in her entire life. Thank you, she told whatever Fate was there that evening.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for such crass behaviour." Professor Snape strolled away, shaking his head.
She turned her attention back to Cormac. "What are you doing?" She was still a bit taken aback from his kiss.
"Kissing you. Ever hear of it before?" He put on a satisfied grin.
"Well, yes, but why?" She tried searching his eyes for answers, but found none. Ron was much easier to read.
"I like you, Hermione. Didn't you see the mistletoe?" He pointed one finger above him.
Her eyes drifted up to the archway and spotted the offending plant. She groaned inwardly. "Why didn't you ask me?"
"You wanted me to ask you?" He was starting to look annoyed.
"That would have been the polite thing to do, McLaggen." She planted her hands on her hips. "Why wouldn't you let me go?"
"Weren't you enjoying it?"
"Stop answering my questions with questions! I was trying to stop you!"
"I don't understand you, Granger. You ask me here and then when I try to be friendly, you go all cold on me. What's wrong with you? Haven't you ever been properly kissed before?"
No, I haven't. Her silence gave her answer.
"Well, I figured since you weren't seeing Don Weasley, I thought I had a chance," he explained.
"Ron! His name is Ron!" She turned around in a huff even more confused than before.
A Kiss Can Be…an Exclamation Point (or "Kiss Me, Mr. Perfect Lips!")
As the Hogwarts Express chugged along the Scottish countryside, Hermione took her time reflecting on the past six years, hoping to hold onto the past. Things had changed so much in the past few days that she often felt dizzy. Once at King's Cross, she, Harry and Ron would separate yet again, but this time would be much more difficult. They were all in danger. Well, she thought, Harry's always been in danger, but with Dumbledore dead, who will protect any of us? Four Horcruxes needed finding and an evil wizard needed destroying. None of them knew how long it would take, and no one had made any real plans. The only thing that she knew for certain was that she and Ron would stick by Harry to the bitter end. In a few weeks, they would rescue Harry from his prison in Surrey, and he'd be free. They would go to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding and then head out to wherever their adventure would lead.
Other, more personal thoughts crept up on her. Ron sat next to her, her right hand in his left. He'd been holding her hand like that since they'd gone into the compartment, and she no longer knew what to do about it. Oh yes you do, Hermione, she reminded herself. You want to kiss him. Badly.
She quickly glanced at him as he spoke with Harry. She didn't know what they were talking about, and they gladly left her with her own thoughts. She took another look at Ron, and her eyes fell to his lips. Perfect, pink lips that just begged to be kissed. Often. And hard. 'Mr. Perfect Lips' was how she referred to him in her daydreams, and she could just about imagine what it would feel like to kiss him.
Oh stop it, Hermione! He doesn't think of you like that!
Then why was he holding you like that at the funeral a mere three hours ago? Why was he stroking your hair?
She let out a heavy sigh, drawing her friends out of their conversation.
"You okay, Hermione?" asked Harry. "You look a little flushed." At those words, Ron tenderly put his hand to her forehead, feeling for a fever. She felt her inner temperature rise at his touch.
"You're hot," he said. "Um, uh, I mean you feel hot." Ron's ears turned pink.
He said you're hot!
With fever! Freudian slip…
…my arse!
"No, I'm fine." Her eyes met his again, and her heartbeat increased when he looked back at her. He smiled.
Does he have any idea what he's doing to me?
No. He's so thick!
I bet not in the head…
She turned away from him at that thought and leaned her forehead against the window.
"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "You haven't said much at all, and that is highly irregular." Harry snorted at Ron's comment.
The door of the compartment opened and Ginny returned from the loo. She sat down next to Harry. He gave her a weak smile.
"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Ron with a snicker in his voice. "Gin, give him a break. Can't you take 'no' for an answer?"
Hermione could see Ginny's anger flare. Oh dear.
"Can't you see what's right in front of you?" Ginny retorted with a touch of bitterness. "I, unlike you, am perceptive when it comes to matters of the heart. But you, Mr. Perfect Lips…"
Why did I ever tell her that?
"…you are so bloody blind!" Ginny had a smug look on her face. Hermione pleaded with her eyes for Ginny to stop.
"What? What the bloody hell are you talking about?" asked Ron.
"Ron, you're my best friend, but how can you be so stupid!" chimed Harry. "I've been noticing it for years, so why can't you just admit it?"
Ron was silent. He merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Harry, should we put them out of their misery?" asked Ginny.
"We'd bloody well better. I'm NOT going to spend my free time listening to them bicker anymore," said Harry. "It'll be better for us all. Ron, Hermione, you're in love with each other. There. That's done."
"Let's go see what Neville's up to and leave these two alone to sort it all out," said Ginny, taking Harry by the hand.
She turned her face back toward the window again. There was no going back now, Harry had seen to that, and she tried to brace herself for Ron's denial, his excuses and his apologies. She didn't want to hear what she knew he'd say. She wanted him to tell her he was in love with her and always had been. She wanted to kiss those perfect, plump lips of his and snog him all the way to King's Cross.
"Hermione?" Ron's voice sounded distant.
She quickly turned toward him, and came nose to nose with him. "Yes, Ron?"
"About what Harry said…?"
Oh please, not the 'Let's Be Friends Speech!'
"…He's right."
"Excuse me?" 'He didn't just say that, did he?' She tried desperately to hold back the tears that began to build.
"He's bloody well right, Hermione. I'm sorry about Lav…"
He never finished. She pulled her hands from his and tugged his head towards her, kissing him hard. She looked at him again, and his eyes were wide open. His expression suddenly softened and he kissed her back. Her eyes drifted closed as she allowed herself to sink into the feelings she was experiencing. All too soon, Ron broke away from her, holding her at arms length.
"Hermione!" His breathing sped up and he looked positively luscious with his lips all puffy from their kiss. "Wow!" He pulled her in for another kiss and her bones turned to jelly. She melted against him, pouring four years' worth of emotions into that kiss. Frustration from not knowing how he really felt suddenly faded away; anger at how he wouldn't let go of the Yule Ball debacle didn't matter anymore; sorrow over how he'd acted with Lavender gave way to pure joy; guilt for attacking him with a flock of canaries suddenly drifted away. Love was all she felt as he kept kissing her over and over, making her feel small, delicate and beautiful, things she never thought she would think or feel about herself.
As she stepped off the Hogwarts Express, the only thing she knew was that her journal entry for the night would end with several exclamation points and that she was extremely glad that Harry and Ginny had never made it back to the compartment.
Pairing: Ron and Hermione
Rating: PG13
Words: 3407
Summary: Written for the Ron/Hermione Quote Fic!Challenge on Checkmated.
"A kiss can be a comma, a question mark or an exclamation point." -- Mistin Guett
Told in three parts, Hermione recounts her first kisses and her reactions to them. The story features Viktor Krum and Cormac McLaggen, and stars Ron Weasley as Mr. Perfect Lips.
Author's Note: There are small portions of dialogue taken directly from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
This Kiss
~*~
~*~
A Kiss Can Be a Comma (or "Um, Not Right Now…")
The Great Hall of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was filled with hundreds of students buzzing with anticipation, awaiting the start of the Yule Ball. All eyes turned to the giant doors as they flew open to reveal five wizards in black robes with stylish rips and tears. The room erupted in applause as The Weird Sisters galloped onto the stage and stood in front of their youngest fans. Armed with guitars, lute, bagpipes and a cello, the band began a slow mournful song.
At this, she felt a hand on the small of her back as she rose to stand next to the young man. He held out his hand gallantly and she placed hers in his. She allowed him to lead her out into the centre of the room where he began skilfully twirling her around in time with the music. She could feel thousands of eyes upon her and she tried desperately to look at her partner, the first one to ask her to the ball. She was doing a good job of maintaining the facade for his sake, but her own brown eyes kept seeking out a pair of sapphire eyes hidden under a mop of red hair.
After a few minutes, the rest of the crowd joined in, filling the floor with dancers. She scanned the crowd for him, but couldn't see him. Her partner mumbled something to her.
"What?" She turned to look at Viktor's face.
"Herm-own-ninny, are you enjoying the music?" He smiled lopsidedly at her.
"Yes. Yes, I am, Viktor." She managed a wide smile for him.
"They are called The Veerd Sisters?" he asked.
"Uh-huh," she replied. Her eyes found him, sitting at a table and looking miserable. Well, it's his own fault, she admitted to herself. If he'd only asked her sooner, she'd be dancing with him and enjoying herself. It was true that Viktor was very nice and they had a lot in common, but she already knew that what he wanted and what she wanted were completely different things; Viktor wanted Hermione and Hermione wanted Ron.
The change in tempo snapped her attentions back to Viktor, and he began to sashay her around the floor. A laugh escaped her lips as she twirled under his arm and pulled quickly back to him. Viktor smiled again and she forced herself to return the expression. She looked away and noticed the faces of those around her, all sharing the same shocked expression while they watched her dance with an international Quidditch player. I know what they're all thinking, but they don't know how very wrong they are.
The music stopped and the lead singer began to speak, welcoming them with introductions to the band members. Viktor led her to the side of the room, holding her hand too tightly for her comfort.
"Vood you like something to drink?" he asked her.
"That would be lovely. Thank you," she answered. "I'm going to find Harry." ,i>And Ron. Viktor dropped her hand and they separated, going in opposite directions. She walked along the tables, searching for a combination of black and red hair; she finally found what she was seeking and smiled.
They both looked miserable beyond reason. Harry sat alone, obviously deserted by Parvati, and Ron sat with a very annoyed Padma next to him. Her eyes scanned his face as she did every time he wasn't looking at her. His blue eyes, even at a distance, were grey and sad-looking. He kept playing with the lace on the sleeves, trying to pull it off and failing. She crossed the floor, returning the smiles of those around her, and sat next to Harry.
"Hi," said Harry. Ron didn't say anything.
"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. "Viktor's just gone to get some drinks."
Ron gave her a withering look. "Viktor?" he said. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"
Another argument between her and Ron followed, squashing her hopes of putting aside their differences and possibly changing the way things were between them. Her anger boiled over and she stood and turned to Ron, yelling and storming away. She crossed the floor with tears threatening to break free. He's such an idiot! Her feet led her to the entrance hall and she found an empty spot near the stairs leading to the Hufflepuff dormitory. She settled onto an empty bench and buried her face in her hands, emptying her hopes with the tears. A soft hand touched her on the shoulder and she turned around.
"Vaht has happened?" asked Viktor. "Vie did you leef?" He sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder and gathered her to him.
"It's just…I thought this would be more fun, and, um," she said in between sobs. She turned her face up to him. "I'm sorry. I should really go." She pulled out of his embrace and took a deep breath. She stood, but he held her back with his hand.
"Eef something is bothering you, you can tell me." His dark eyes bore into hers, searching for an answer. For a moment, Hermione allowed herself to forget her messy relationship with Ron and just looked at Viktor. He leaned over and gently kissed her on the lips, shocking her back to reality.
"Uh, Viktor, I'm sorry. It's just that, er, well, there's someone else," she stammered. "I really need to be alone right now."
"Oh." He paused, a defeated look covering his face. "Vell then, I should go."
"No, Viktor, don't go. I like you," she replied, pausing herself, "just not…"
"…that vay," he finished. He looked deflated and she felt sorry for him.
"One last dance?" She got up and held out her hand to him, smiling.
A Kiss Can Be…a Question Mark (or "Are You Kidding Me?")
There was a tear in the bed curtain that she never noticed before. Hmm, she thought, ,i>when did that happen?,/i> Her thoughts drifted back in time and stopped harshly at what she often referred to as 'That Bloody Night.' That Bloody Night, Ron had hurt her in the worst possible way, crushing her spirit with the heel of his foot and grinding it to a fine powder to be blown away in the wind. That Bloody Night, she'd sunk to a new low, and set a flock of yellow canaries on him, hoping at least one of them would scratch out his eyes or cause some other disfigurement. That Bloody Night, she'd hid herself within the bed curtains, ripping the hole while pulling them around her.
Unfortunately, the birds merely scratched his arms and made him bleed. Pity they didn't do more to his mouth!
As she went down to the Great Hall later that evening, she was nervous, and for her, that didn't happen very often. Tonight, she would make him feel the same kind of hurt he'd been making her feel for the past God-knows-how-many-lonely weeks he'd been slobbering all over her. Hermione couldn't even say the girl's name without having her latest meal come up into her throat.
She entered the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table alone for the first time in six years. She started to play with the stew that was in her bowl when she noticed Harry and Ron sitting a bit down the table. She felt lonely, angry and yes, even sad. She tried not to cry about it, but sometimes she just couldn't help herself. She was lucky, though, because just when she felt that the damn would break, she saw Parvati talking with Harry, and then the girl turned to her.
"Oh, hi, Hermione!"
"Hi Parvati!" said Hermione, ignoring Ron and Lavender completely. "Are you going to Slughorn's party tonight?"
"No invite," said Parvati gloomily. "I'd love to go, though, it sounds like it's going to be really good….You're going, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'm meeting Cormac at eight, and we're-"
There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink and Ron surfaced.
"-we're going up to the party together."
"Cormac?" said Parvati. "Cormac McLaggen, you mean?"
"That's right," said Hermione sweetly. "The one who almost became Gryffindor Keeper."
"Are you going out with him, then?" asked Parvati, wide-eyed.
"Oh-yes-didn't you know?" said Hermione.
"No!" said Parvati. "Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then McLaggen…"
"I like really good Quidditch players," Hermione corrected her, still smiling. "Well, see you…Got to go and get ready for the party…." Hermione got up from her seat and strolled away from the table , letting her eyes fall on Ron, who had a strange, blank look on his face. Once in the entrance hall, she took a deep breath and felt dirty all of a sudden. She didn't plan to say all that to Parvati, but something inside her just wouldn't stop. But somehow, she felt like she was going to have to keep the act up every time she saw Ron in the near future.
Shortly before eight, she found Cormac waiting for her at the bottom of the dormitory stairs, looking rather like a rooster he was so pleased with himself. He looked up and puffed out even more, causing bile to rise up into her throat. She quickly swallowed it back down. I am going to regret this for the rest of my life. Sorry, Ron.
He took her arm and they left the common room and strolled to Professor Slughorn's office. Inside, the room was ablaze with color and the music of mandolins relaxed her enough that she didn't feel the need to vomit anymore. Her eyes scanned the room for Harry and Luna, but they obviously hadn't arrived yet.
Cormac stopped abruptly and she bumped into his back.
"Sorry, Herm. Can I call you Herm?" Cormac asked. He had a terribly evil look in his eyes.
"No, you may not. My name is Hermione," she reminded him.
"Fine." He leaned against the wall. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure. What?" She had a sinking suspicion he would ask about Quidditch.
"That Weasley bloke. What's up with the two of you?"
Hermione's eyes widened. I didn't expect that. "Uh, well, Ron and I are friends. We have been for a long time." We had been friends before she entered the picture.
"Just friends?" he asked. Hermione nodded her head, not understanding where he was going with this. "Well, whenever he isn't snogging with that cow, he's always looking at you. And you're always looking at him."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." She truly hadn't.
"So you're not, you know, with him?" If she had a drink, she surely would have choked on it.
"No," she answered. I wish I was, though.
He led her over to some students from the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and she was soon bored by the conversation, which, of course centred on the upcoming matches. After the conversation that lasted entirely too long, he again led her across the room and stopped under a large archway.
Before she could say anything, Cormac swooped down on her and kissed her. Rather well. She felt dizzy and her lips responded to his as he kissed her lightly, giving her time to get used to the situation. His arms reached out and pulled her close, kissing her harder, opening her mouth with his tongue. Her eyes flew open and she saw the look of possession on his face. She tried to wiggle away from him, but he was too strong. Her wand was on her bedside table in her room, and she chastised herself for being so foolish. One of his hands moved into her hair, ruining the careful styling she'd done special after dinner. While she struggled against him, she heard someone clear his or her throat. He released her and Hermione quickly turned around.
She had never been so glad to see Professor Snape in her entire life. Thank you, she told whatever Fate was there that evening.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor for such crass behaviour." Professor Snape strolled away, shaking his head.
She turned her attention back to Cormac. "What are you doing?" She was still a bit taken aback from his kiss.
"Kissing you. Ever hear of it before?" He put on a satisfied grin.
"Well, yes, but why?" She tried searching his eyes for answers, but found none. Ron was much easier to read.
"I like you, Hermione. Didn't you see the mistletoe?" He pointed one finger above him.
Her eyes drifted up to the archway and spotted the offending plant. She groaned inwardly. "Why didn't you ask me?"
"You wanted me to ask you?" He was starting to look annoyed.
"That would have been the polite thing to do, McLaggen." She planted her hands on her hips. "Why wouldn't you let me go?"
"Weren't you enjoying it?"
"Stop answering my questions with questions! I was trying to stop you!"
"I don't understand you, Granger. You ask me here and then when I try to be friendly, you go all cold on me. What's wrong with you? Haven't you ever been properly kissed before?"
No, I haven't. Her silence gave her answer.
"Well, I figured since you weren't seeing Don Weasley, I thought I had a chance," he explained.
"Ron! His name is Ron!" She turned around in a huff even more confused than before.
A Kiss Can Be…an Exclamation Point (or "Kiss Me, Mr. Perfect Lips!")
As the Hogwarts Express chugged along the Scottish countryside, Hermione took her time reflecting on the past six years, hoping to hold onto the past. Things had changed so much in the past few days that she often felt dizzy. Once at King's Cross, she, Harry and Ron would separate yet again, but this time would be much more difficult. They were all in danger. Well, she thought, Harry's always been in danger, but with Dumbledore dead, who will protect any of us? Four Horcruxes needed finding and an evil wizard needed destroying. None of them knew how long it would take, and no one had made any real plans. The only thing that she knew for certain was that she and Ron would stick by Harry to the bitter end. In a few weeks, they would rescue Harry from his prison in Surrey, and he'd be free. They would go to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding and then head out to wherever their adventure would lead.
Other, more personal thoughts crept up on her. Ron sat next to her, her right hand in his left. He'd been holding her hand like that since they'd gone into the compartment, and she no longer knew what to do about it. Oh yes you do, Hermione, she reminded herself. You want to kiss him. Badly.
She quickly glanced at him as he spoke with Harry. She didn't know what they were talking about, and they gladly left her with her own thoughts. She took another look at Ron, and her eyes fell to his lips. Perfect, pink lips that just begged to be kissed. Often. And hard. 'Mr. Perfect Lips' was how she referred to him in her daydreams, and she could just about imagine what it would feel like to kiss him.
Oh stop it, Hermione! He doesn't think of you like that!
Then why was he holding you like that at the funeral a mere three hours ago? Why was he stroking your hair?
She let out a heavy sigh, drawing her friends out of their conversation.
"You okay, Hermione?" asked Harry. "You look a little flushed." At those words, Ron tenderly put his hand to her forehead, feeling for a fever. She felt her inner temperature rise at his touch.
"You're hot," he said. "Um, uh, I mean you feel hot." Ron's ears turned pink.
He said you're hot!
With fever! Freudian slip…
…my arse!
"No, I'm fine." Her eyes met his again, and her heartbeat increased when he looked back at her. He smiled.
Does he have any idea what he's doing to me?
No. He's so thick!
I bet not in the head…
She turned away from him at that thought and leaned her forehead against the window.
"Are you sure?" Ron asked. "You haven't said much at all, and that is highly irregular." Harry snorted at Ron's comment.
The door of the compartment opened and Ginny returned from the loo. She sat down next to Harry. He gave her a weak smile.
"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Ron with a snicker in his voice. "Gin, give him a break. Can't you take 'no' for an answer?"
Hermione could see Ginny's anger flare. Oh dear.
"Can't you see what's right in front of you?" Ginny retorted with a touch of bitterness. "I, unlike you, am perceptive when it comes to matters of the heart. But you, Mr. Perfect Lips…"
Why did I ever tell her that?
"…you are so bloody blind!" Ginny had a smug look on her face. Hermione pleaded with her eyes for Ginny to stop.
"What? What the bloody hell are you talking about?" asked Ron.
"Ron, you're my best friend, but how can you be so stupid!" chimed Harry. "I've been noticing it for years, so why can't you just admit it?"
Ron was silent. He merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Harry, should we put them out of their misery?" asked Ginny.
"We'd bloody well better. I'm NOT going to spend my free time listening to them bicker anymore," said Harry. "It'll be better for us all. Ron, Hermione, you're in love with each other. There. That's done."
"Let's go see what Neville's up to and leave these two alone to sort it all out," said Ginny, taking Harry by the hand.
She turned her face back toward the window again. There was no going back now, Harry had seen to that, and she tried to brace herself for Ron's denial, his excuses and his apologies. She didn't want to hear what she knew he'd say. She wanted him to tell her he was in love with her and always had been. She wanted to kiss those perfect, plump lips of his and snog him all the way to King's Cross.
"Hermione?" Ron's voice sounded distant.
She quickly turned toward him, and came nose to nose with him. "Yes, Ron?"
"About what Harry said…?"
Oh please, not the 'Let's Be Friends Speech!'
"…He's right."
"Excuse me?" 'He didn't just say that, did he?' She tried desperately to hold back the tears that began to build.
"He's bloody well right, Hermione. I'm sorry about Lav…"
He never finished. She pulled her hands from his and tugged his head towards her, kissing him hard. She looked at him again, and his eyes were wide open. His expression suddenly softened and he kissed her back. Her eyes drifted closed as she allowed herself to sink into the feelings she was experiencing. All too soon, Ron broke away from her, holding her at arms length.
"Hermione!" His breathing sped up and he looked positively luscious with his lips all puffy from their kiss. "Wow!" He pulled her in for another kiss and her bones turned to jelly. She melted against him, pouring four years' worth of emotions into that kiss. Frustration from not knowing how he really felt suddenly faded away; anger at how he wouldn't let go of the Yule Ball debacle didn't matter anymore; sorrow over how he'd acted with Lavender gave way to pure joy; guilt for attacking him with a flock of canaries suddenly drifted away. Love was all she felt as he kept kissing her over and over, making her feel small, delicate and beautiful, things she never thought she would think or feel about herself.
As she stepped off the Hogwarts Express, the only thing she knew was that her journal entry for the night would end with several exclamation points and that she was extremely glad that Harry and Ginny had never made it back to the compartment.
