Rp Log: Hermione, Ron PG

[library_books]

Characters: Hermione and Ron
Date: April 21st, I believe.
Summary: It's the morning before the big Quidditch Match and Hermione is working on an essay when Ron wakes up very early and is extrememly nervous. The two chat for a bit and discuss things before Ron leaves to rest a bit more before the match.
Rating: PG



It was early, Hermione mused looking at the clock on her bedside table. Early, sure, but that’s what Hermione liked. The night before she had planned to wake early so that she could get started on her Potions essay and have it finished before the Quidditch match later in the afternoon. She pulled the covers back and stretched her arms above her head before getting up and dressing in a pair of trousers and a knitted blouse. Pulling her hair in a loose bun, she gathered her text books up in her arms, hugging them tightly against her chest. Opening and closing the door behind her, Hermione sighed now that she was out of the dormitory. Lavender had been giving her looks that, if they could kill, would leave her in a pile of ashes on the stone floor. It wasn't Hermione's fault that Ron and Lavender broke up, but Lavender was certainly acting as if it were.

Pursing her lips and drawing in a relaxing breath, she descended the stairs and settled at one of the tables in the common room. She neatly placed all her books and materials around her in an organized fashion, a habit she's had since first year. She smiled to herself and dipped her quill in the pot of ink and started working.

Today was Gryffindor's Quidditch match against Ravenclaw and as usual, Ron was beyond nervous. Things were different when he practiced with Harry; just being around him gave him that confidence he needed. Now he'd have to go in front of a huge crowd and that was enough to make him want to stay in bed all day. His team needed him though and he wasn't going to let them down. Groaning, he tossed back his covers and went in search of some clothes.

Ron was never used to waking up this early. This was Hermione's early. Instead he shrugged it off; now that he was up he might as well find something to keep his mind off of the match for a while. Walking down to the common room, he didn't expect to find anyone there. When he'd discovered Hermione at one of the tables immersed in her writing, he contemplated going back upstairs. Except, there wasn't any use in that, she'd probably spotted him anyhow.

Scribbling away, Hermione wasn't even sure how long she had been sitting there writing. She only knew that someone had come down to the common room because she got that distinct feeling of someone watching her. She turned in her seat to see who it was and smiled when she saw that it was Ron.

When Ron decided to move, it was then Hermione stopped what she was doing to see who'd interrupted. She'd smiled up at him and Ron tried his best to smile back, but he was sure it had faltered. He hadn’t been this alone with Hermione in a while and he was definitely starting to feel a bit jumpy.

"Er, hi!" Ron tried, his voice seeming to go up a pitch.

Butterflies were dancing in her stomach as she watched Ron's face. He looked sort of peekish. Nerves, she figured, and smiled when she remembered just how nervous he can get before a match.

"Hey," she said, waving him over and motioning to the seat next to her.

She wanted him to come sit with her. Ron wasn't sure he could do it. Every time he was around her he always ended up saying something stupid that'd eventually upset her. Stuttering his way out of sitting with her wouldn't be any better, so he slowly treaded his way to the seat beside her.

"What are you writing?" He asked, nervously peeking a glance at the parchment on the table.

He was acting like a fool already.

She followed his eyes down to the parchment on the table and smiled.

"Professor Slughorn's essay. The one assigned last week on the differences between a basic love potion and Amortentia." She ran a hand over her essay, feeling happy with what she's written so far on it. "Have you started writing it yet?" she asked, looking back at him.

"Essay?" He mouths to himself before smiling at her. "Yeah, yeah. I've spent loads of time on it," He lied coolly, trying to maintain his composure.

When Hermione quirked a brow at him, he knew he was caught. Why he tried lying to her, he didn't know.

"No," He responded, shoulders sagging. "I might need help?" He told her, hoping the question in his voice was noticeable.

Hermione pursed her lips at the question, frowning slightly in annoyance at always being asked for help. Of course he hadn't done the essay. She knew that long before he even decided to try and lie about the fact that he hadn't even started it. She could never understand why it was such a hard concept for him and Harry to grasp. If they just started on their work early, then they would finish in a timely manner and not have to ask her for the answers in the end. But one look at Ron's pouting face that usually annoyed her all the more, and she was a goner. She sighed outloud and pushed a curly lock out of her face.

"Fine, I'll help you," she started, but continued before he had the opportunity to respond. "but I'm not doing it for you, Ronald Weasley."

"Who are you doing it for, then?" Ron cringed the minute the words left his mouth. It should've been obvious that he wouldn't be able to go without saying something so stupid.

He had the silly urge to run when Hermione slammed her quill on the table (even if she wasn't aware of it) and looked back at him with an irritated glare. He occupied himself with looking down at his hands, muttering to himself how much of an idiot he was. There was no way he'd be able to finish that essay on his own, but at the rate he was going he wouldn't be surprised if Hermione really made him work on it himself.

Right now, he was silently praying for someone else to come down to the common room.

She hadn't meant to slam her quill down that hard, but she was annoyed that he would even think she'd be letting anyone copy her essay or that she'd do it for them! It was so typical of Ron Weasley to assume such things. Taking a deep breath - in and out - she tried to quell the tension that was building between them. She didn't want to fight, not when things were slowly returning back to normal, but he just had this way of getting under skin all the time!

"I'm not doing it for anyone. I was saying that I would help you with your essay so long as you at least attempt to do some of it yourself." She runs a tired hand over her face, the annoyance slowly fading. 'I am not going to fight with him. I am not going to fight with him. Not today.' She repeated the mantra in her head, knowing that today was not the day for him to be on edge or else he would play poorly and then Harry might very well hex them both.

"Why would you say such at thing?" Ron mock gasped, hoping to lighten up the mood. When the corner of Hermione's mouth turned up, he knew he was making some progress.

"So, you'll be at the match?" He asked. If she was there, he'd definitely try his best. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of her.

Hermione looked down at her lap, her cheeks colouring slightly. He voice. It sounded as if he needed her to be there. But she was probably being silly again, she figured, and looked back at him smiling.

"Of course I'll be there."

Ron smirked a little, not wanting to give away his excitement. Hermione and Harry were the ones he depended on while he was at school, and since Harry would be out on the pitch with him, that left Hermione. She was going to be there. His smirk widened to the point that he was almost beaming, obviousness be damned.

"That's good," He chuckled, fidgeting in his chair. "Really, really good."

Maybe being alone with her wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. It was evident that they needed the alone time together and right now? He knew this was all he ever wanted. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, a wistful grin plastered on his face.

"Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione watched him carefully and couldn't help but become slightly light headed when he started smiling at her like that - that little impish smile of his when he was positively happy, and to think, it was her who made him that way!

"You're welcome," she said and gave him a smile that she hoped would tell him just how much she wanted to watch him fly out there on the pitch.

They couldn't stop smiling at each other and Ron was afraid of giving away his feelings that quick. He stood abruptly from his seat, straightening his clothes (though it wouldn't do any good). Looking back at Hermione, he gave her a crooked smile.

"I've been practicing a lot," He said, shaking a strand of hair out of his face. Hermione was quietly giggling at his actions and he blushed. "I might cut it."

If she admitted it to herself, Hermione would say Ron looked rather adorable at that moment. "I like it long," she whispered, blushing slightly. She looked down at her essay and cleared her throat.

"Are you ready for the match today?" she asked and looked at him.

When Ron heard Hermione's response about his hair, he stopped suddenly. He could barely hear her, but what she'd said made him thrilled on the inside nonetheless.

"Really?" He asked, tugging on a stray strand. Realizing she wasn't looking at him anymore, he shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed.

Instead, he answered her most recent question. "Well, yeah, I'm ready for the match."

He groaned, head dropping to his hands.

"I think."

Hermione stood and regarded Ron. She knew he always became a bundle of nerves before a match.

"You'll be fine," she encouraged, touching his arm slightly. "Just try to remember how it felt when you thought Harry had given you the Felix Felicis and use that feeling to help you play for this match."

Ron sighed, nodding his head. "You're right," He said, grabbing on to Hermione's hand before letting go with a blush. "I practiced with Harry and Ginny during the break, I should be fine." He wanted to add 'because you'll be there', but even he knew that'd be a bit awkward.

"You're making me feel a lot better about this."

Hermione pulled her hand away and clasped it with her other, her cheeks stinging red from the contact they had shared.

"I don't see how I'm able to do that." She laughed it off, but really, she was flattered by the comment.

"Don't pay attention to the crowd. Just keep your eye on your three goals and the quaffle," she advised. "Oh! And make sure their beater doesn't pull the same stunt he did their last game. Slytherin's keeper took a nasty hit to the head, remember, and wound up in the hospital for a few days afterwards."

Ron chuckled, "I feel his pain already."

That chuckle was soon replaced with a frown when certain events happened to come back to him. "You remember what happened in fifth year, don't you?" He asked, face turning almost as red as his hair. "It's been kind of hard to avoid the crowd, especially with those Slytherins around!" He spat, anger overtaking him.

Hermione shot a disapproving look his way.

"I'm sorry," he moaned, "Getting myself worked up over them will only have me unfocused."

She shook her head, as if telling him that he need not apologise to her. "Honestly, Ron, if I were you, I would take that song as a compliment rather than something that's going to get me all flustered and worked up," she pointed out while tucking a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. "Besides, it's not even Slytherin who is singing that song anymore, but our house and those who are supporting the Gryffindor team."

"I guess you're right."

He looked towards the stairs as if expecting someone to come down. It seemed as if the whole tower was deserted, just for this moment. "Did I really wake up that early?" Ron asked, rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly.

"I know I'm right," she commented and stepped back to the table where her watch lay. She glanced at the time before turning back to Ron, nodding. "It's only quarter after nine. I doubt anyone will be up for at least another half hour."

"Merlin, are you serious?" Ron asked, completely shocked. He wasn't upset that he was up this early, it just felt... weird. "There's not much to do this time of morning, huh?" He asked, slowly spinning around, taking in the contents of the common room like he's never been there before.

"I guess everyone's saving their energy for the match."

Hermione watched him for a moment before settling back down in her seat and picking up her quill. She carefully dipped the tip into her ink pot and brought the feather up to her cheek in contemplation. She looked back at Ron and smiled.

"You could always be productive and work on your homework."

Ron snorted at that.

"Anyone ever tell you how funny you are, Hermione?" She just had to know that homework was the last thing on his mind right now. Actually, he thought she did know. "I'll work on it tonight, after Gryffindor wins!" He smiled triumphantly. That was the attitude he needed.

"You're still going to help me, right?"

Hermione pursed her lips, letting him know that she disapproved of him putting his homework off. Here he had loads of time in which he could get a lot accomplished and he was going to skirt it off until after the match - which she knew would not happen. If Gryffindor won, then he'd want to celebrate instead of doing his work which means he'd be putting it off until the next day.

"I'll help you under one stipulation..."

Oh no, not this. She'd probably end up saying some crazy sophisticated thing that'd confuse him to no end. It'd only go in one ear and out the other. He looked at her expectantly anyway. Letting her know that he was listening to whatever she had to say, even if there was a hundred percent chance he wouldn't remember anything she'd said in the passing minutes.

"Okay, shoot."

Hermione smiled at him and turned in her seat so that she was facing him. She waited a few beats to make sure she had his undivided attention because, really, she knew he wouldn't listen unless she made him curious enough.

"I'll only help you so long as you promise to do it tonight after the match. If you put it off until tomorrow, you can forget my help."

"Right after the match?" Ron gawked. "I can't even celebrate?" He asked, almost on the verge of pouting. Hermione really knew how to put a damper on things.

He stepped a bit further away from her before asking, "What would be wrong with doing it tomorrow?" It was a completely logical question, right? She shouldn't be too angry with his asking. Anyone would choose celebrating a win (if that was going to be the case) over homework.

"Not directly after the match," Hermione huffed. "Just do it after the celebration is what I'm asking." Hermione looked at Ron and it took all her will power to ignore the little pout that graced his bottom lip. She bit her own lip and looked away, gathering her composure again before addressing his next question.

"I can't do it tomorrow. I'm trying to get this essay done before the match so that I can finish my reading for Professor Sprout. That way..." she started, but looked around to make sure they were alone. "I can be done with everything for this weekend and concentrate on finding everything I can about Horcruxes for Harry."

"Well, I guess I can do that."

He'd forgotten about Harry and the Horcruxes once again and he leaned closer to Hermione when she began talking about them. It wasn't that he couldn't hear her -- he could -- he just wanted to be near her. She smelled.. actually he didn't know what she smelled like; however, it did make his stomach growl a bit. Hermione stopped mid-sentence, staring at him a minute before continuing.

"I'm really sorry I haven't been much help," He informed her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

His presence, so close to her, was deterring and made her nervous. She drew in a shaky breath and shook her head. "You've been busy with your own things. I understand," she said, knowing full well that she would have preferred any additional help Ron or even Harry would have given her.

Ron fully expected Hermione to give him some speech about how he should be more helpful, more responsible. If she had, it would've been completely fair. He knew himself that he wasn't right for not helping her, he'd said he would after all.

"Yeah, exactly," He agreed, looking towards the steps once more. It was something he didn't want to admit, but he was becoming a bit tongue-tied again.

Hermione looked back at him and quietly let out a deep breath. Despite them talking everything out, things were still awkward when they were alone together.

"Ron, why don't you go and grab some breakfast? It'll give you something to do until everyone wakes up,” she said and turned around in her chair so that she could see him.

"Breakfast?" He said, almost as if he'd never heard of it. Sighing, Hermione nodded at him, turning back to the work in front of her.

"Well, are-- are you sure?" He stuttered. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, even if he was running out of things to say. Looking at the back of her head hopefully, he asked, "You don't want to come? I mean, I wouldn't mind if you did."

Hermione kept her head down and smiled into her essay. Even if he made her so angry sometimes that all she could do to get even was to hex a flock of birds after him, he still made her happier than anyone else. But still, despite how much she wanted - really, really wanted to eat breakfast with him, she simply could not.

"I would," she said, turning around so she was facing him. "but I need to finish this essay before the match."

"Oh." Was the only response he could come up with. He was probably being a distraction, maybe. It's not that she doesn't want him around, it's just she'd rather talk to him when she wasn't so occupied. That was what he kept telling himself.

"I think I'll go back upstairs instead," He told her, clearing his throat. His voice was quickly becoming hoarse. "I'll see you, then. At the game. Yeah."

She stood before she even realized that her feet had moved and were moving towards him. She stood in front of him, her arm lightly touching his forearm and she gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It's not that I don't want to eat breakfast with you, I do - just like we do all the time, I just need to finish this essay like I told you earlier - so that I can get it done before the match today and have time tomorrow to do that research for Harry."

She was touching him. It was then that memories of their third year came flowing back to him. They'd both noticed how weird that'd been, but now? Now it just felt right to Ron. He leaned closer to her, breathing in her scent, and dead set on kissing her. He was just a few inches away from her face when there was a noise around them, they both turned around to discover that a group of first years were ambling out of their dormitories.

"Have fun with your--" There were no words forming. All he could do was point at her parchment. "Right, have fun with your essay."

He was going to kiss her! her mind had shouted, egging her on, but then a gaggle of first years interrupted them and she had to bite her lip from shouting at them. She took a step back, her arm still hanging lightly on his arm, and watched as the younger students went by.

"My essay?" she asked confused, but then blinked and smiled sheepishly. "Oh, yes, my essay." She ducked her head, embarrassed. This is what he does, makes her forget about her homework sometimes.

Ron stared at her hand still lightly resting on his arm before he looked back at her. "I should go wake Harry," he spoke up, smiling. The first years around them were standing stock-still, eyes wide with horror. Ron had the sudden urge to growl at them, just to see their reactions. No, he told himself. Just go back upstairs.

"Good luck with helping Harry, let me know if you need anything."

He slowly eased his arm away, heading for the stairs.

She barely comprehended what he said, but nodded her head anyway and felt his arm moving out form under her hand. Then, not even caring that there were people watching them, she jumped forward and seized his arm again, turning him to her.

"Good luck at the match, Ron," she said and stood on her tiptoes, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

When Ron felt the tug on his arm, he expected her to tell him that she needed some kind of help right now. What he wasn't expecting was for her to kiss him. She stood right on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek in front of a batch of first years who still had nothing better to do than stare. There were a few giggles and kissing sounds around them, but Ron was too high to care.

He place two fingers on his cheek, directly on the spot where she'd kissed him before snatching them away. That'd really make him look like some bloody schoolgirl.

Instead he took Hermione's hand in his own and gave it a brief squeeze. "Thank you, Hermione," He whispered in her ear, making sure his nose brushed against the shell of her ear.

Hermione's hand subconsciously tightened in his larger one, the feel of his calloused hands on hers was, to put it simply, lovely. He leaned in and she thought - hoped that he would kiss her! First years and all, but to her dismay, he bypassed where she wanted him most and instead whispered in her ear. The earnestness and gratitude, tied with the feel of his breath against her so intimately made her shiver and squeeze his hand tighter.

"You're welcome," she whispered, her voice betraying her as her heart beat faster than it had in a very, very long time.

The last thing Ron wanted to do was let her hand go. He barely could work up the nerve to walk away, this was too special. Truth is, it had to end somewhere.

He smiled at her once more before letting her hand go. Standing there, she looked so beautiful. More beautiful than ever and for Ron, it was so difficult just for him to make it to the stairs.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Hermione blushed under his scrutinizing gaze before breaking eye contact and returning to her seat once more. She took one more look back at Ron's retreating form before tucking into her essay, a smile set on her face. It was going to be an interesting match for sure and she didn’t doubt for a moment that Ron wouldn’t play better than he had in years.