Fic Request Fulfilled for _seratonin
Title: Best Friends
Author: daysandweeks
Beta: loothey
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3,291
Summary: Ron and Hermione are watching Harry’s house for the night, and discover a mysterious present that Harry’s left behind for them.
Warnings: On the fluffy side. Both Ron and Hermione are a tad bit OOC, but I think it’s justified.
Disclaimer: I don’t own it. Well, nope, never mind, I don’t.
Author's Notes: I’m sorry it’s late, and I hope you like it! Many thanks to my beta…you were just great. =]
“What is this?”
The bottle was filled with a royal blue liquid, and I’d never seen anything like it before. Ron stood in the doorway for a moment and then proceeded to enter the room, the bottle in his right hand. He eyed it skeptically.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. I stood up from my crouched position by the fireplace, where I had been trying to light a fire. I approached Ron and examined the bottle. It was rather tall and looked similar to one that might hold rum or perhaps vodka. “Some sort of liquor, I guess.”
Ron scratched the back of his head and I brandished my wand from my pocket. I aimed it at the wood in the fireplace and murmured a spell, but the fire still refused to light. “Would you mind helping me or perhaps finding some matches?” I asked Ron, but when I turned around, he was nowhere to be seen.
Sighing, I stood up and strode across the room, shivering slightly. After the war, Harry had moved into 12 Grimmauld Place, since it was rightfully his. Some of the more annoying portraits were taken down, especially those that yelled at me, and the house had been cleaned out. However, it still managed to be rather drafty during the winter season. Currently, Harry wasn’t home. He was at a Quidditch game with Ginny, enjoying his Valentine’s Day. Before he had left a few hours ago, he’d invited Ron and I over and said that we could just stay at the house while he was out with Ron’s little sister. Of course we found this to be an odd suggestion, but neither of us were doing anything on the most romantic, or loneliest rather, night of the year, so we didn’t see any harm in doing some unnecessary house-sitting.
“Ron?” I called, standing in the doorway of the sitting room. I peered down the hallway, wondering where he’d gotten to. “Ron, where are you? I need some help getting the fire started.” When he didn’t respond, I turned into the hallway and headed down it, stopping at every room. Finally, I found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and staring at the suspiciously unlabeled bottle of blue liquor. As I came closer to him, I realized that he had a shot glass in his hand. “So what is it?” I asked, slightly amused.
He shrugged, lightly. “I don’t know. Harry just left it out on the counter.” He now sent his gaze my way, and I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Maybe this Valentine’s Day would be eventful, after all. I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were almost the same color of the liquid before us. “I mean,” he said, blinking, a puzzled look on his face, “I don’t think Harry would just leave this lying around for no reason.”
This time, I shrugged. “I think he has some sort of evil plan,” I commented with a smirk, turning around and leaning my back against the counter, stretching lightly. After all, why else would Harry randomly invite his two best friends over to his house when he wouldn’t be there to host them? Ron’s eyes glanced at my stomach for a bit, and then he pulled his gaze away, looking at my face, his ears turning crimson. “What do you say we drink it?” I asked.
Ron chuckled, shaking his head lightly, and brought a hand to his forehead. “Hermione, since when were you so…adventurous?”
I turned towards a cabinet, opened it, and pulled out another shot glass. When I turned back around, Ron was eyeing me in a strange way, as if he was completely unsure of what I’d say next. “I’ve always been adventurous.” I scoffed. “I’m a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”
He nodded when I joined him at the counter, and then he reached to pull the cork out of the bottle. “Wait,” he said with his hand suspended in midair, directly about the cork. “What if it’s poisoned?”
“Harry would poison us?” I asked, confused.
Ron shook his head, although this time he was serious. “No, I just mean, lots of people don’t like him. What if they’re trying to kill us? Or him?”
I snorted, placing my shot glass on the counter.
“What?” Ron asked, his face turning slightly pink. “Why is that so irrational?” He placed his glass down, too, spreading his arms in confusion.
“I don’t know!” I snapped, suddenly feeling the need to defend myself. Really, couldn’t he laugh at himself for once? He’d been acting so strange lately, and I suppose there was the war to blame for his actions. But the war had been over for a while now. He really did infuriate me sometimes. “Maybe because Voldemort’s been dead for nearly a year now, and all of the Death Eaters are either dead as well or trapped in an extremely secure prison that no one’s ever escaped from?” I realized that I’d forgotten something. “Except for Sirius,” I added under my breath, “but he was innocent anyway.”
“You can’t be sure,” Ron growled, his face turning even redder. I could tell that my sarcasm had stung him. “And we all know that not all fanatical purebloods signed on to be Death Eaters-some just sat back and nodded approvingly. You can’t tell me that a girl with as much sense of you doesn’t know that!”
I rolled my eyes and stepped towards him, glaring quite menacingly. “Ronald!” I exclaimed. “Why are we fighting about this? There’s no point! Have there been any attacks within the past six months?” Ron didn’t say anything; he just stood there, silently fuming. “And how would a poisoned item get into Harry’s house?” I headed back towards the counter and picked up the bottle, which was completely full and appeared to have never been opened before. “No one’s even opened this before, Ron. It’s probably just a thank you present from Harry for house-sitting.”
I heard Ron grumble something under his breath about it being better to be safe than sorry, but after a few minutes of looking miserable, he sent me a strange, although not unpleasant, look. “Why did he ask us to come over, anyway?” Ron asked. “He’s only going to be gone for a handful of hours. Why do we need to watch his house?”
I shrugged and leaned on the counter once more, inspecting the bottle in my hand. “Exactly,” I whispered, glad that we were done fighting, but still utterly perplexed by the whole situation at hand. “I think he has something in mind, really.”
“Like what?” Ron asked, but I wasn’t looking at his face, and the tone of his voice didn’t give away if he was being serious or not.
I placed the bottle down and Ron leaned beside me, gazing at the bottle as well. A blush formed on my cheeks as I looked up at him. “Do you think…?” I was about to voice the sinister plan that I was sure Harry had up his sleeves, but my query faded off. “Do you think you could help me light the fire?”
Ten minutes later, the fire in the sitting room was lit, and Ron held up his finger. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured, exiting the room. I sat in one of the two beautiful armchairs that Harry had recently purchased and let out a content sigh. The room, as well the night, didn’t seem so chilly and lonely now that the fire was filling the room with a warm, bright ambiance. A minute or so passed as I sat there, slumped into the chair, before Ron entered the room. He held the bottle of mysterious liquor in his hand.
“You forgot the shot glasses,” I laughed as Ron plopped down in the remaining armchair.
He shrugged and flicked his wand, and two glasses appeared on the small side table between us. He managed to pull the cork out of the bottle, sans a corkscrew, and poured a shot into each glass. “So who goes first?” he smirked. “I mean, one of us should probably go first, in case it’s something vile. That way the other won’t have to suffer.”
“I say that you go first, oh chivalrous one,” I responded, smiling lightly. “If you’re so concerned about safety, I’d rather be the one not writhing on the ground in pain. After all, it’s common fact that I’m much better at potions and will be able to save you. And I also know exactly where Harry keeps a bezoar handy at all times after that incident in our sixth year.”
Ron smiled and said, “Well, that decides it.” He picked up the shot glass and hesitated before downing it in one quick gulp. When he was done, he shrugged, and said, “You try.”
“Well, what’s it like?” I asked, a little hesitant to try something that was such an abnormal shade of blue.
“It tastes…I don’t know, sort of nutty. And it’s warm going down, and sort of thick.”
I took my glass and sipped at it, not sure what to expect. But Ron described the liquor perfectly. It did taste sort of nutty, and it was rather thick, almost sticky, but in a pleasant way, and felt nice and warm going down. I finished off the shot and poured us both another one.
“I don’t think we really need the glasses, you know,” he said, taking the bottle and just taking a swig out of it. I simply took the shot from my glass. However, when I was finished, I realized that he was right, and when he handed me the bottle, I drank from it myself, although not so much.
We were quiet for a moment, until I asked, “So what do you think it is?”
“No clue.” Ron shrugged. “Could be anything.”
“Why do you think he left it?”
But Ron just sighed and shook his head.
We spent the next few hours just drinking and talking jovially, and it really was quite pleasant. Before I knew it, the bottle was half empty. I hadn’t realized that we’d drank that much. I blinked, realizing that my head did feel a bit funny. Ron handed me the bottle but I shrugged him off. “No…I don’t think I want anymore. We’ve certainly had a decent amount already.”
The way I said the words, however, didn’t feel like they sounded. I was sure that I’d slurred a little somewhere in my refusal to have any more of the strange blue liquor. I suddenly felt a bit tired and chilly. I yawned and stood up from my chair. I stumbled a bit as I moved closer to the fire, but managed to sit down a few feet away from the fireplace.
“You know,” Ron said. “That fire’s dying.” I peered over my shoulder at him to see that he was sitting in the other armchair, holding the bottle around its neck. He placed it on the armchair he was sitting in as he got up to tend to the fire. After doing so, he laid down beside me, yawning slightly. “You know, when we were arguing earlier, when I said that thing about that…stuff…” he gestured toward the bottle, which had now rolled off of the armchair and was now laying behind him, “being poisoned, it was really because I didn’t want anything bad to happen tonight…because I didn’t want anything bad to happen to us, or you, or…”
He trailed off, and I lay down as well, so that we were face to face, our bodies splayed in opposite directions. “I understand,” I whispered, not wanting to argue any longer. The silence between us lasted for nearly fifteen minutes, but it was wonderfully bearable, and filled with the sound of the crackling fire and the feel of its warmth, stretched languidly across the floor, just like the two of us.
My eyes were closed, and I was startled from my dozing when Ron said, a laugh in his voice, “This has been by far the best Valentine’s Day of my entire life.”
My eyes immediately flew open as I felt his hand brush against my cheek, as if he hadn’t been sure his words alone would wake me. I smiled when a blush formed on his cheeks as well as mine. He went to move his hand, but I put mine on top of his, keeping it there. “It’s been lovely,” I murmured with a sigh, propping my head on my remaining arm, bent at the elbow. “I’m glad that Harry asked us to watch his house. This night really has turned out to be…”
But I couldn’t even put it into words. All that we had done was sit by a fire and talk and laugh and drink a bit too much…and of course argue beforehand. But that’s who we were-we couldn’t not argue.
Ron sat up, and I let his hand drop to his lap as I sat up as well. We sat there, facing each other like that, as he reached behind him, found the bottle, and took a gulp out of it. I laughed, rolling my eyes, and followed suit once it was handed to me. I handed the bottle back to Ron, and he eyed the remaining contents. There was still about a third left. “Do you want to finish it off, then?” He laughed, cocking his head in the strangest way.
“No.” I laughed. “No, we shouldn’t just drink all of Harry’s…whatever this is.”
Ron shrugged and let out another yawn. “What do you want us to do then?” he asked, stretching, the bottle still in his hand-waving precariously in the air.
He looked so wonderful in that moment. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but before I knew it, he was done yawning and sitting there, still looking wonderful, his eyes even more blue in the firelight. So I told him what I wanted us to do.
“I want you to kiss me.”
He looked surprised, but not in an upset way. His eyes didn’t even widen-his jaw just dropped and he sat like that for a second, looking rather goofy with his mouth open, and a blush forming on his cheeks. I began to blush as well, although I wasn’t sure why. It could have been the fact that I’d just suggested what I’d suggested, or perhaps the alcohol was getting to me. But before I had time to decide why I was blushing, he was leaning towards me, and kneeling, and the bottle fell lightly to the ground and rolled towards the fireplace, but I didn’t care.
He just rested there, his hands supporting himself as he lingered above me, and we looked at one another, our faces just millimeters apart.
“What do you want?” he whispered, sounding as if he hadn’t heard my request, his breath tickling my ear.
“I want this,” I said, leaning forward, and lightly taking his face into my hands. My lips brushed against his, unsure, and he sat up straight as well before reaching for my hips and pulling me onto his lap. I let out a soft whimper as we both simultaneously leaned forward and deepened the kiss.
We both pulled away and sat there, looking at one another. We sat like there for a few seconds, just staring at one another. Then we both erupted into laughter.
“Harry is a horrible prat,” Ron murmured, now leaning into my neck and kissing it. I nodded in agreement, but soon brought his lips to my own, and we continued to kiss.
It seemed that several rather pleasant days passed this way, the two of us kissing one another, and when we stopped, I found that the two of us had somehow ended up in one of the armchairs, entwined. “Yes,” Ron whispered into my ear, “I definitely hate Harry.”
“Really?” I asked, sounding skeptical. “Because he’s more of my best friend now than ever.”
He was kissing me again, but laughing as he kissed me, and it was the nicest feeling in the world. Suddenly, I realized that my hands had made their way up his shirt, and his were making their way up mine as well. I couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. He was struggling with my bra, it seemed, and I was about to help him when all of a sudden we heard someone clear their throat.
I turned around, startled, and nearly fell off of the chair, although Ron caught me rather gracefully. Before us stood Ginny and Harry, covered in soot from entering the house via the Floo Network. Harry had his foot on the nearly empty bottle of blue liquor, and Ginny looked as if she was going to burst out laughing. “I see you two found the present I left?” Harry asked.
I leapt off of the chair, blushing terribly. “Yes,” Ron said, and I turned around to see that he was blushing even worse than I was. “Erm…thanks.”
“Thanks for watching the house.” Harry smirked, raising an eyebrow. Ginny started to giggle, leaning on Harry for support.
“How was the Quidditch match?” Ron asked, clearing his throat. He stood up, offering the chair to his sister.
“It was fantastic!” Ginny squealed. “You should have seen this one save the Canons’ Keeper made…I mean, they lost, but it was still amazing…”
She began to trail off as Harry joined the conversation, glancing at me knowingly. He tossed me the bottle, which I caught in my hands. Although Ron was deep in conversation with the other two, he kept looking at me every now and then, and the wolfish grin he sent me made shivers run up and down my spine.
Truly, I couldn’t help but feel a bit remorseful. The whole night had been wonderful, and I was so glad that Ron and I had finally made our moves…on Valentine’s Day, nonetheless. However, we’d only ended up acting the way we did due to the fact that we had a bit of alcohol in our systems.
Just then, Harry strode over to me, and took the bottle from my hand. He lightly tapped it with his wand, and then proceeded to return it to me. He walked back towards Ginny, who was now seated, placing his hands on her shoulders, and continued to talk to Ron. I glanced at the bottle and noticed that a label was now on it. Although the name of the liquid inside was not given, a list of ingredients was. I scanned them, briefly, and noted that they consisted of many things…none being alcohol.
Everyone except for Harry left shortly after that, Ginny disapparating first. Instead of leaving directly from the sitting room, Ron and I said goodbye to Harry and went outside, into the cold night. However, with Ron beside me, the night didn’t seem so bitter.
We stood facing one another at the door of 12 Grimmauld Place, and I considered telling Ron that the liquor we’d drank wasn’t liquor at all. However, Ron got to it before me. “Did you ask Harry what that drink was, by the way? I didn’t remember to.”
I shrugged. “No, but he…showed me.” Even in the dark I could see the confused expression on Ron’s face. “Ron it…it didn’t…it didn’t have any alcohol in it.” Ron laughed, and pulled me up to kiss him goodbye. “I utterly despise him,” I growled, although rather playfully.
“Really?” Ron smiled. “Because I’m pretty sure he’s more of my best friend than ever right now.”
And on that note, he kissed me one last time, and disapparated into the night.
------------------------
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive: I don't know. Something fluffy. The plot is totally up to you!
Preferred Rating: PG13
Specifics you want (optional, maximum of three): Fire, a kiss, an argument (because ... well, they're Ron and Hermione!)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): Out of characterness. I don't like that at all!
Thanks for participating in the exchange! Happy Valentine’s Day! ♥
Author: daysandweeks
Beta: loothey
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3,291
Summary: Ron and Hermione are watching Harry’s house for the night, and discover a mysterious present that Harry’s left behind for them.
Warnings: On the fluffy side. Both Ron and Hermione are a tad bit OOC, but I think it’s justified.
Disclaimer: I don’t own it. Well, nope, never mind, I don’t.
Author's Notes: I’m sorry it’s late, and I hope you like it! Many thanks to my beta…you were just great. =]
“What is this?”
The bottle was filled with a royal blue liquid, and I’d never seen anything like it before. Ron stood in the doorway for a moment and then proceeded to enter the room, the bottle in his right hand. He eyed it skeptically.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. I stood up from my crouched position by the fireplace, where I had been trying to light a fire. I approached Ron and examined the bottle. It was rather tall and looked similar to one that might hold rum or perhaps vodka. “Some sort of liquor, I guess.”
Ron scratched the back of his head and I brandished my wand from my pocket. I aimed it at the wood in the fireplace and murmured a spell, but the fire still refused to light. “Would you mind helping me or perhaps finding some matches?” I asked Ron, but when I turned around, he was nowhere to be seen.
Sighing, I stood up and strode across the room, shivering slightly. After the war, Harry had moved into 12 Grimmauld Place, since it was rightfully his. Some of the more annoying portraits were taken down, especially those that yelled at me, and the house had been cleaned out. However, it still managed to be rather drafty during the winter season. Currently, Harry wasn’t home. He was at a Quidditch game with Ginny, enjoying his Valentine’s Day. Before he had left a few hours ago, he’d invited Ron and I over and said that we could just stay at the house while he was out with Ron’s little sister. Of course we found this to be an odd suggestion, but neither of us were doing anything on the most romantic, or loneliest rather, night of the year, so we didn’t see any harm in doing some unnecessary house-sitting.
“Ron?” I called, standing in the doorway of the sitting room. I peered down the hallway, wondering where he’d gotten to. “Ron, where are you? I need some help getting the fire started.” When he didn’t respond, I turned into the hallway and headed down it, stopping at every room. Finally, I found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and staring at the suspiciously unlabeled bottle of blue liquor. As I came closer to him, I realized that he had a shot glass in his hand. “So what is it?” I asked, slightly amused.
He shrugged, lightly. “I don’t know. Harry just left it out on the counter.” He now sent his gaze my way, and I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Maybe this Valentine’s Day would be eventful, after all. I couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were almost the same color of the liquid before us. “I mean,” he said, blinking, a puzzled look on his face, “I don’t think Harry would just leave this lying around for no reason.”
This time, I shrugged. “I think he has some sort of evil plan,” I commented with a smirk, turning around and leaning my back against the counter, stretching lightly. After all, why else would Harry randomly invite his two best friends over to his house when he wouldn’t be there to host them? Ron’s eyes glanced at my stomach for a bit, and then he pulled his gaze away, looking at my face, his ears turning crimson. “What do you say we drink it?” I asked.
Ron chuckled, shaking his head lightly, and brought a hand to his forehead. “Hermione, since when were you so…adventurous?”
I turned towards a cabinet, opened it, and pulled out another shot glass. When I turned back around, Ron was eyeing me in a strange way, as if he was completely unsure of what I’d say next. “I’ve always been adventurous.” I scoffed. “I’m a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”
He nodded when I joined him at the counter, and then he reached to pull the cork out of the bottle. “Wait,” he said with his hand suspended in midair, directly about the cork. “What if it’s poisoned?”
“Harry would poison us?” I asked, confused.
Ron shook his head, although this time he was serious. “No, I just mean, lots of people don’t like him. What if they’re trying to kill us? Or him?”
I snorted, placing my shot glass on the counter.
“What?” Ron asked, his face turning slightly pink. “Why is that so irrational?” He placed his glass down, too, spreading his arms in confusion.
“I don’t know!” I snapped, suddenly feeling the need to defend myself. Really, couldn’t he laugh at himself for once? He’d been acting so strange lately, and I suppose there was the war to blame for his actions. But the war had been over for a while now. He really did infuriate me sometimes. “Maybe because Voldemort’s been dead for nearly a year now, and all of the Death Eaters are either dead as well or trapped in an extremely secure prison that no one’s ever escaped from?” I realized that I’d forgotten something. “Except for Sirius,” I added under my breath, “but he was innocent anyway.”
“You can’t be sure,” Ron growled, his face turning even redder. I could tell that my sarcasm had stung him. “And we all know that not all fanatical purebloods signed on to be Death Eaters-some just sat back and nodded approvingly. You can’t tell me that a girl with as much sense of you doesn’t know that!”
I rolled my eyes and stepped towards him, glaring quite menacingly. “Ronald!” I exclaimed. “Why are we fighting about this? There’s no point! Have there been any attacks within the past six months?” Ron didn’t say anything; he just stood there, silently fuming. “And how would a poisoned item get into Harry’s house?” I headed back towards the counter and picked up the bottle, which was completely full and appeared to have never been opened before. “No one’s even opened this before, Ron. It’s probably just a thank you present from Harry for house-sitting.”
I heard Ron grumble something under his breath about it being better to be safe than sorry, but after a few minutes of looking miserable, he sent me a strange, although not unpleasant, look. “Why did he ask us to come over, anyway?” Ron asked. “He’s only going to be gone for a handful of hours. Why do we need to watch his house?”
I shrugged and leaned on the counter once more, inspecting the bottle in my hand. “Exactly,” I whispered, glad that we were done fighting, but still utterly perplexed by the whole situation at hand. “I think he has something in mind, really.”
“Like what?” Ron asked, but I wasn’t looking at his face, and the tone of his voice didn’t give away if he was being serious or not.
I placed the bottle down and Ron leaned beside me, gazing at the bottle as well. A blush formed on my cheeks as I looked up at him. “Do you think…?” I was about to voice the sinister plan that I was sure Harry had up his sleeves, but my query faded off. “Do you think you could help me light the fire?”
Ten minutes later, the fire in the sitting room was lit, and Ron held up his finger. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured, exiting the room. I sat in one of the two beautiful armchairs that Harry had recently purchased and let out a content sigh. The room, as well the night, didn’t seem so chilly and lonely now that the fire was filling the room with a warm, bright ambiance. A minute or so passed as I sat there, slumped into the chair, before Ron entered the room. He held the bottle of mysterious liquor in his hand.
“You forgot the shot glasses,” I laughed as Ron plopped down in the remaining armchair.
He shrugged and flicked his wand, and two glasses appeared on the small side table between us. He managed to pull the cork out of the bottle, sans a corkscrew, and poured a shot into each glass. “So who goes first?” he smirked. “I mean, one of us should probably go first, in case it’s something vile. That way the other won’t have to suffer.”
“I say that you go first, oh chivalrous one,” I responded, smiling lightly. “If you’re so concerned about safety, I’d rather be the one not writhing on the ground in pain. After all, it’s common fact that I’m much better at potions and will be able to save you. And I also know exactly where Harry keeps a bezoar handy at all times after that incident in our sixth year.”
Ron smiled and said, “Well, that decides it.” He picked up the shot glass and hesitated before downing it in one quick gulp. When he was done, he shrugged, and said, “You try.”
“Well, what’s it like?” I asked, a little hesitant to try something that was such an abnormal shade of blue.
“It tastes…I don’t know, sort of nutty. And it’s warm going down, and sort of thick.”
I took my glass and sipped at it, not sure what to expect. But Ron described the liquor perfectly. It did taste sort of nutty, and it was rather thick, almost sticky, but in a pleasant way, and felt nice and warm going down. I finished off the shot and poured us both another one.
“I don’t think we really need the glasses, you know,” he said, taking the bottle and just taking a swig out of it. I simply took the shot from my glass. However, when I was finished, I realized that he was right, and when he handed me the bottle, I drank from it myself, although not so much.
We were quiet for a moment, until I asked, “So what do you think it is?”
“No clue.” Ron shrugged. “Could be anything.”
“Why do you think he left it?”
But Ron just sighed and shook his head.
We spent the next few hours just drinking and talking jovially, and it really was quite pleasant. Before I knew it, the bottle was half empty. I hadn’t realized that we’d drank that much. I blinked, realizing that my head did feel a bit funny. Ron handed me the bottle but I shrugged him off. “No…I don’t think I want anymore. We’ve certainly had a decent amount already.”
The way I said the words, however, didn’t feel like they sounded. I was sure that I’d slurred a little somewhere in my refusal to have any more of the strange blue liquor. I suddenly felt a bit tired and chilly. I yawned and stood up from my chair. I stumbled a bit as I moved closer to the fire, but managed to sit down a few feet away from the fireplace.
“You know,” Ron said. “That fire’s dying.” I peered over my shoulder at him to see that he was sitting in the other armchair, holding the bottle around its neck. He placed it on the armchair he was sitting in as he got up to tend to the fire. After doing so, he laid down beside me, yawning slightly. “You know, when we were arguing earlier, when I said that thing about that…stuff…” he gestured toward the bottle, which had now rolled off of the armchair and was now laying behind him, “being poisoned, it was really because I didn’t want anything bad to happen tonight…because I didn’t want anything bad to happen to us, or you, or…”
He trailed off, and I lay down as well, so that we were face to face, our bodies splayed in opposite directions. “I understand,” I whispered, not wanting to argue any longer. The silence between us lasted for nearly fifteen minutes, but it was wonderfully bearable, and filled with the sound of the crackling fire and the feel of its warmth, stretched languidly across the floor, just like the two of us.
My eyes were closed, and I was startled from my dozing when Ron said, a laugh in his voice, “This has been by far the best Valentine’s Day of my entire life.”
My eyes immediately flew open as I felt his hand brush against my cheek, as if he hadn’t been sure his words alone would wake me. I smiled when a blush formed on his cheeks as well as mine. He went to move his hand, but I put mine on top of his, keeping it there. “It’s been lovely,” I murmured with a sigh, propping my head on my remaining arm, bent at the elbow. “I’m glad that Harry asked us to watch his house. This night really has turned out to be…”
But I couldn’t even put it into words. All that we had done was sit by a fire and talk and laugh and drink a bit too much…and of course argue beforehand. But that’s who we were-we couldn’t not argue.
Ron sat up, and I let his hand drop to his lap as I sat up as well. We sat there, facing each other like that, as he reached behind him, found the bottle, and took a gulp out of it. I laughed, rolling my eyes, and followed suit once it was handed to me. I handed the bottle back to Ron, and he eyed the remaining contents. There was still about a third left. “Do you want to finish it off, then?” He laughed, cocking his head in the strangest way.
“No.” I laughed. “No, we shouldn’t just drink all of Harry’s…whatever this is.”
Ron shrugged and let out another yawn. “What do you want us to do then?” he asked, stretching, the bottle still in his hand-waving precariously in the air.
He looked so wonderful in that moment. I wasn’t sure what came over me, but before I knew it, he was done yawning and sitting there, still looking wonderful, his eyes even more blue in the firelight. So I told him what I wanted us to do.
“I want you to kiss me.”
He looked surprised, but not in an upset way. His eyes didn’t even widen-his jaw just dropped and he sat like that for a second, looking rather goofy with his mouth open, and a blush forming on his cheeks. I began to blush as well, although I wasn’t sure why. It could have been the fact that I’d just suggested what I’d suggested, or perhaps the alcohol was getting to me. But before I had time to decide why I was blushing, he was leaning towards me, and kneeling, and the bottle fell lightly to the ground and rolled towards the fireplace, but I didn’t care.
He just rested there, his hands supporting himself as he lingered above me, and we looked at one another, our faces just millimeters apart.
“What do you want?” he whispered, sounding as if he hadn’t heard my request, his breath tickling my ear.
“I want this,” I said, leaning forward, and lightly taking his face into my hands. My lips brushed against his, unsure, and he sat up straight as well before reaching for my hips and pulling me onto his lap. I let out a soft whimper as we both simultaneously leaned forward and deepened the kiss.
We both pulled away and sat there, looking at one another. We sat like there for a few seconds, just staring at one another. Then we both erupted into laughter.
“Harry is a horrible prat,” Ron murmured, now leaning into my neck and kissing it. I nodded in agreement, but soon brought his lips to my own, and we continued to kiss.
It seemed that several rather pleasant days passed this way, the two of us kissing one another, and when we stopped, I found that the two of us had somehow ended up in one of the armchairs, entwined. “Yes,” Ron whispered into my ear, “I definitely hate Harry.”
“Really?” I asked, sounding skeptical. “Because he’s more of my best friend now than ever.”
He was kissing me again, but laughing as he kissed me, and it was the nicest feeling in the world. Suddenly, I realized that my hands had made their way up his shirt, and his were making their way up mine as well. I couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. He was struggling with my bra, it seemed, and I was about to help him when all of a sudden we heard someone clear their throat.
I turned around, startled, and nearly fell off of the chair, although Ron caught me rather gracefully. Before us stood Ginny and Harry, covered in soot from entering the house via the Floo Network. Harry had his foot on the nearly empty bottle of blue liquor, and Ginny looked as if she was going to burst out laughing. “I see you two found the present I left?” Harry asked.
I leapt off of the chair, blushing terribly. “Yes,” Ron said, and I turned around to see that he was blushing even worse than I was. “Erm…thanks.”
“Thanks for watching the house.” Harry smirked, raising an eyebrow. Ginny started to giggle, leaning on Harry for support.
“How was the Quidditch match?” Ron asked, clearing his throat. He stood up, offering the chair to his sister.
“It was fantastic!” Ginny squealed. “You should have seen this one save the Canons’ Keeper made…I mean, they lost, but it was still amazing…”
She began to trail off as Harry joined the conversation, glancing at me knowingly. He tossed me the bottle, which I caught in my hands. Although Ron was deep in conversation with the other two, he kept looking at me every now and then, and the wolfish grin he sent me made shivers run up and down my spine.
Truly, I couldn’t help but feel a bit remorseful. The whole night had been wonderful, and I was so glad that Ron and I had finally made our moves…on Valentine’s Day, nonetheless. However, we’d only ended up acting the way we did due to the fact that we had a bit of alcohol in our systems.
Just then, Harry strode over to me, and took the bottle from my hand. He lightly tapped it with his wand, and then proceeded to return it to me. He walked back towards Ginny, who was now seated, placing his hands on her shoulders, and continued to talk to Ron. I glanced at the bottle and noticed that a label was now on it. Although the name of the liquid inside was not given, a list of ingredients was. I scanned them, briefly, and noted that they consisted of many things…none being alcohol.
Everyone except for Harry left shortly after that, Ginny disapparating first. Instead of leaving directly from the sitting room, Ron and I said goodbye to Harry and went outside, into the cold night. However, with Ron beside me, the night didn’t seem so bitter.
We stood facing one another at the door of 12 Grimmauld Place, and I considered telling Ron that the liquor we’d drank wasn’t liquor at all. However, Ron got to it before me. “Did you ask Harry what that drink was, by the way? I didn’t remember to.”
I shrugged. “No, but he…showed me.” Even in the dark I could see the confused expression on Ron’s face. “Ron it…it didn’t…it didn’t have any alcohol in it.” Ron laughed, and pulled me up to kiss him goodbye. “I utterly despise him,” I growled, although rather playfully.
“Really?” Ron smiled. “Because I’m pretty sure he’s more of my best friend than ever right now.”
And on that note, he kissed me one last time, and disapparated into the night.
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ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive: I don't know. Something fluffy. The plot is totally up to you!
Preferred Rating: PG13
Specifics you want (optional, maximum of three): Fire, a kiss, an argument (because ... well, they're Ron and Hermione!)
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): Out of characterness. I don't like that at all!
Thanks for participating in the exchange! Happy Valentine’s Day! ♥