Fic Request Fulfilled for i_am_girlfriday
Title: Hermione Moves On. Or, 'Honestly, I'm Really Completely Over Ron'.
Author: butterfly_kate
Beta: trinaweena
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2,802
Summary: Two years on from their first kiss, Ron and Hermione are still trying to move on.
Warnings: Some language.
Notes: --
It would have been foolish to think that it would be easy. It would have been ridiculous to assume that the kiss they'd shared was any more than emotions running high and a palpable fear of death. It would have been stupid to expect anything else would happen. But Hermione had thought, assumed, and expected, which of course only caused her to feel foolish, ridiculous, and stupid.
It hadn't been the right time for talks about the future after the war; Ron needed comfort, not a nice long chat about where they were going. She had kissed him during the Battle and he in turn had kissed her on the night of Fred's funeral. It was his way of reaching out, nothing more. After that, she had agonised for a long time about whether to talk to him about it, any of it, but the right time never seemed to present itself. A year and a half later and she knew they had missed their chance once and for all. It was time to move on.
When she heard about Ron trying to eat Hannah Abbott's face on a night out the lurch in her stomach was all too familiar. Enough was enough, although it was not without reservations that she met Lavender for coffee in Madame Puddifoot's on a rainy Saturday afternoon in January.
They made small talk as they ordered and waited for the coffees to arrive and then Lavender eyed her suspiciously as she stirred the sugar into her latte; she looked like an extremely feminine super-villain. All that was missing was the cat (and maybe a few henchmen).
'What?' asked Hermione, after a minute or so of this.
'I'm wondering what on earth I could possibly do for you, Hermione. We both know that this is an extremely unusual occurrence - not that I don't like you, of course.' Her smile was almost too genuine.
'Of course,' she said, returning the smile. 'I'm not going to lie and I'm not going to play games. I want you to set me up with someone.'
'What about Ron?'
'What about him?'
'I thought you two would be popping out the kids any day now.'
Hermione sighed. 'You know full well nothing is going on. I waited for him to grow up, he did, but it still didn't work out. I'm not waiting anymore.'
Lavender nodded her head, before thoughtfully taking a sip of her latte. 'I might be able to arrange something.'
'Good.'
They simultaneously reached into their handbags and retrieved their day planners. Hermione's was neat, full of notes about meetings and deadlines; she could see Lavender's was written in mostly pink or purple ink, that there were hearts on quite a few of the dates and that the book was made thicker with the addition of photographs attached to pages already passed.
'How's next ... Friday?' She was poised with a magenta quill over the date. Hermione looked down at her own planner, Friday read: 'Meeting with HoD, 10am. Presentation 2pm.' Her stomach twisted. Less than a week away? She really had no excuse not to do this. Take the plunge, Hermione, she told herself mentally, take a chance.
'That's fine,' she said at last.
'Do you want a boy or a girl?'
'Pardon?'
'The date? Do you want it to be with someone who is male, or someone who is female?' Lavender was acting like this was a normal question, but it was one that Hermione had never been asked before; it took her off-guard.
'Oh. Male.'
'Just checking ... Anthony Goldstein, do you know him?'
'He was in the D.A., but I wouldn't exactly call him a friend.' She nervously sipped at the last of her cappuccino.
'That's perfect. He's a Ravenclaw; he's an acquaintance but not someone you know too well. I think you'll really hit it off.'
'Here's hoping.'
'Do you want to double date with me, to break the ice?'
'Would that be a good idea?'
'I think so. It usually is in this situation.'
'Okay.' She paused, looking for something - anything - to say. 'Who will be your date?'
'Let me worry about that, sweetie.' She was collecting up her things now. 'I'll be in touch.'
--
Hermione arrived fifteen minutes late for the double date, which was not only not a good first impression to make, but also gave Lavender the opportunity to study Hermione as she arrived, rather than being swept up in multiple greetings. As the waiter took her jacket and led her over to the table, Hermione reminded herself not to order anything that involved garlic, before questioning herself on her motives; after all, why avoid the garlic if she wasn't planning on kissing anyone. Eat garlic, she decided, it's a first date.
Lavender's date, it turned out, was Seamus Finnegan. Well, that meant there'd be no keeping this secret from her friends, although, who was she kidding? She was there with Lavender after all. They all greeted one another fondly and Hermione was grateful when Anthony pulled the chair out for her and went to the bar to get her a drink. Lavender immediately inquired as to her opinions, of course; Hermione responded favourably, though truth be told she just wasn't sure.
This was highlighted at the end of the evening after Lavender and Seamus had left (they seemed to be getting along very well indeed). Hermione and Anthony seemed to be ambling aimlessly away from the restaurant. The conversation was comfortable, fun, but hardly charged with sexual tension.
'Listen, Hermione,' said Anthony at a lull in the conversation. 'I've had a great evening. Really. You're great.'
Hermione's heart sank. Oh rejection, that familiar friend back to say 'hello' and 'screw you'. Not that she was particularly interested in Anthony as it happened but ... well maybe a quick snog on the doorstep would have been nice. Maybe she'd had too much wine. In any case, rejection was never nice.
'Don't get me wrong,' he continued, 'I really think you're incredibly ... shaggable.'
This was becoming incomprehensible. 'But?'
'But. I don't know. We don't really have any chemistry, do we?'
Hermione smiled. 'You're right. It's like I like you, and you're attractive but I don't feel that certain pull.'
'No. I have had fun though. We should do it again sometime. In fact -' Oh no - he had an idea. In Hermione's experience, when one of the boy's had an idea things did not end well. '-I know just the person who'd get along with you. Will you let me set you up?'
So now she was being sent on a blind date by her almost-blind date. Why could things never be simple? Why couldn't some Adonis simply sweep her off her feet and out of this tangled web that was dating? She sighed. Fuck it. Why not?
'Sure, Anthony, go for it. What have I got to lose?'
He grinned. 'Excellent. I'll be in touch soon!'
--
She saw Ron for the first time in what felt like forever on the day of her blind date. She had decided to visit Harry at Grimmauld Place, which he had moved into full time not long ago. It was much cleaner than they'd ever been able to get it before, which Harry said was down to Molly Weasley. It even looked homely in some areas, though the shrieking portrait of Mrs. Black was ever-present. They headed straight for the kitchen and a pot of tea.
'Does it feel strange,' asked Hermione as she poured in her milk, 'living here?'
Harry shrugged. 'No stranger than when it was me, you, and Ron.'
'Does Ginny stay over much?'
'I think she'd like to, but ... you know her family. They'd lynch me.'
'Well she can always say she's at mine.'
'I'll tell her.'
It was nice, just sitting having a cup of tea with Harry. It was relaxed. It had been strange, the completely relaxed nature of their conversations those last two years. The lack of menace hanging over them had taken a while to get used to. Then, as paths diverged, the lack of three was even more noticeable. It was as if they didn't work the same anymore, couldn't work as a trio. Hermione thought it was probably her fault, her inability to let go.
They were first alerted to there being someone at the door when Mrs. Black started up again. Harry went to shut her up and get the door, leaving Hermione sipping her tea alone. She recognised the sound of Ron's footsteps descending the stairs to the kitchen before she realised it was he to whom Harry was talking. Ron, in turn, stopped dead in the doorway on sighting Hermione. She could see Harry behind him, doing his very best to act casually.
'Hermione. Hi.'
'Hello Ron, how are you? I'll get you a mug.' She did so with a flick of her wand and swiftly began to pour him tea in an attempt to avoid his eyes. Her heart was racing. Why did it do that?
'Fine. You?'
And so it went on for most of the afternoon, the pleasantries, the careful avoidance of the topic of their love lives and the awkward comfortable silence whenever Harry left them alone. It was driving her insane. It was a nicely familiar feeling of insanity though, if she was honest.
She stayed as long as she possibly could, all the while hoping, praying, that Ron would leave first. But he didn't. She made her excuses, but neither Harry nor Ron seemed to believe her in the slightest (she had never been a particularly good liar, after all).
'I have a date tonight,' she said finally, with a shrug.
'A date?' Ron looked suspicious. 'What do you mean, "a date"?'
'You know, meet up with someone, go out, do something fun, with a view to maybe eventually ... doing other fun things.' She stared him right in the eyes as she said it. She may not have been able to quite say 'have sex' but she damn well wasn't going to be embarrassed about the prospect. He had no right to have any opinion on her love life: he'd had his chance - more of a bloody chance than most people - and he hadn't taken it. His loss. She was moving on.
'And who are you going on this date with?'
She stood up and began collecting together her things to leave. She could see Harry out of the corner of her eye, looking as awkward as she'd ever seen him.
'I don't know.'
'What do you mean you don't know?'
'It's a blind date. Anthony Goldstein organised it for me.'
'A blind date? A blind date? Hermione, you're not going.' He was on his feet now, too, hands pressing hard on the kitchen table.
'Of course I'm going. What are you on about?'
'It could be anyone. It could be, a murderer, or a rapist - a Slytherin or You-Know-Who.'
She raised her eyebrows. 'Ron, if I'm sure of one thing in this life, it's that Anthony Goldstein is not sending me off on a date with Voldemort.' He seemed to have a slight lingering twitch in response to the name, even now. 'I appreciate your concern, really, but it'll be fine. I'll be fine.'
They both accepted pecks on the cheek as she departed. She was surprised and tried not to loiter over Ron. It was really just remnants of the past that she felt around him. That was all.
--
She did not see Ron for three months after their meeting at Grimmauld Place. Whether he was avoiding her, she was avoiding him or it was a coincidence, she couldn't tell. As far as she could gather, his relationship with Hannah was going as well as could be expected. Meanwhile, Hermione found herself utterly in lust with Terry Boot. She didn't quite know how it had happened, he'd never really drawn her attention at school, but on that first date even there was a connection between them. Hermione held out until the third and then indulged in ripping his clothes off (well, maybe it was more carefully removing).
Almost three months to the day, they met at a dinner party, of all places. A dinner party at Luna's house. It was almost as if their hostess endeavoured to make the evening as awkward as possible, but it was Luna, so that couldn't possibly have been the case.
Hermione was seated in between Terry and Ron. She could see the latter throwing sidelong glances - disapproving glances - at her throughout the meal. When she felt a hand on her knee during dessert, she panicked for a moment, before realising it was the correct hand. Terry's. Not that that needed clarifying because it was perfectly obvious that the right person to be touching her knee would be Terry. Not Ron. Definitely not Ron.
Who was she kidding?
No one, was the answer. They all damn well knew how she felt. Except maybe Terry and Ron. It was ridiculous, it was beyond a joke. There was no moving on when everything was left hanging between them. She resolved to ... resolve it. She would do it as soon as there was an opening.
Why is it that time runs slowly when one is waiting for something? The post-dinner Butterbeers and coffees seemed to take an eon. She caught Ron in the hall and asked to talk to him outside.
'Can it wait?'
'No, I don't think it can.' She might lose all her bottle if she didn't do it now.
It was a cold, crisp night. She had forgotten that going outside might mean freezing. Too late to go back for a jacket, and they wouldn't be out long enough to start a fire. Oh Jesus, why was she debating this? Time to do it. To just say it.
'The thing is - well, I don't expect anything - I'm not trying to achieve anything really except that I need to tell you. And then I'll have told you.'
'What are you on about, Hermione?' He looked like all of those evenings in the common room, poring over History of Magic essays.
'What I'm on about is the fact that I'm in love with you. I have been in love with you for ... forever. I know you don't feel the same way about me and that's fine. I'm just trying to move on and to do that I needed to tell you.'
His expression hadn't changed. He didn't move, just stood there, staring at her like she was a Goblin and he couldn't quite remember what year she'd died in.
'Okay ... well, now that this is over I think we can go back inside.'
'Go back inside?' He had woken up, apparently.
'Yes. The others will wonder where we've gone.'
'You're in love with me?'
'Yes. But there's no need to make a big deal out of it.'
'Yes there is. There is need to make a bloody big deal out of it. You're not in love with me. I'm in love with you and you don't feel the same way about me.'
'Clearly, Ron, that's not the case. Wait - what?'
'We've really ballsed it all up, haven't we?' he asked quietly, looking at her furtively. She smiled.
'It certainly looks that way.'
'So let me get this straight,' he said, more confident now. 'You're in love with me. And I'm in love with you.'
'That's the situation as I understand it, yes.' The smile had become a grin. The cold was suddenly irrelevant.
'Come here.'
She closed the two paces between them and before she could say anything, or ask any more questions, he leaned down and kissed her. It brought all the clarification she needed.
'I've been waiting so long to do that.' His voice sounded very throaty, all of a sudden.
'Me too. But what now?'
'Now ... well I'm going for a slash, because you caught me on the way to the loo and frankly if I don't go back in soon I'm going to start dancing and then-'
'I get the idea, thanks, Ron.'
'Then I don't know.'
'Maybe act like nothing happened. Go on like normal and sort it out in the morning.'
'So this is a secret.'
'Yes. It'll be exciting.'
He grinned, squeezed her hand and headed back inside. She let out an involuntary giggle, before turning back herself. Luna was in the window upstairs, smiling down at her serenely. Hermione rolled her eyes playfully, before going into the house in order to locate a bottle of wine. She would secretly celebrate tonight.
Who knew what kind of celebrations would follow tomorrow?
------------------------
ORIGINAL REQUEST
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive: Ron and Hermione post-Hogwarts. I'd love for their UST to continue, for Ron to be pining for her a bit but seeing other women, for Hermione not to be a prude and actually date/sleep with other men but also be pining for Ron, and then for them to get together :) Doesn't have to be canon.
Preferred Genre(s): Angst, humor, romance.
Preferred Rating(s): Anything is fine.
Canon or AU?: Either is fine, but if it's AU I'd like it to feel like a continuation from one of the books rather than totally set in a true "alternate universe."
A specific you want: Unresolved sexual tension.
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): Prudish Hermione or virginal Hermione.
Thanks for participating in the Love in Full Bloom Exchange!
Author: butterfly_kate
Beta: trinaweena
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2,802
Summary: Two years on from their first kiss, Ron and Hermione are still trying to move on.
Warnings: Some language.
Notes: --
It would have been foolish to think that it would be easy. It would have been ridiculous to assume that the kiss they'd shared was any more than emotions running high and a palpable fear of death. It would have been stupid to expect anything else would happen. But Hermione had thought, assumed, and expected, which of course only caused her to feel foolish, ridiculous, and stupid.
It hadn't been the right time for talks about the future after the war; Ron needed comfort, not a nice long chat about where they were going. She had kissed him during the Battle and he in turn had kissed her on the night of Fred's funeral. It was his way of reaching out, nothing more. After that, she had agonised for a long time about whether to talk to him about it, any of it, but the right time never seemed to present itself. A year and a half later and she knew they had missed their chance once and for all. It was time to move on.
When she heard about Ron trying to eat Hannah Abbott's face on a night out the lurch in her stomach was all too familiar. Enough was enough, although it was not without reservations that she met Lavender for coffee in Madame Puddifoot's on a rainy Saturday afternoon in January.
They made small talk as they ordered and waited for the coffees to arrive and then Lavender eyed her suspiciously as she stirred the sugar into her latte; she looked like an extremely feminine super-villain. All that was missing was the cat (and maybe a few henchmen).
'What?' asked Hermione, after a minute or so of this.
'I'm wondering what on earth I could possibly do for you, Hermione. We both know that this is an extremely unusual occurrence - not that I don't like you, of course.' Her smile was almost too genuine.
'Of course,' she said, returning the smile. 'I'm not going to lie and I'm not going to play games. I want you to set me up with someone.'
'What about Ron?'
'What about him?'
'I thought you two would be popping out the kids any day now.'
Hermione sighed. 'You know full well nothing is going on. I waited for him to grow up, he did, but it still didn't work out. I'm not waiting anymore.'
Lavender nodded her head, before thoughtfully taking a sip of her latte. 'I might be able to arrange something.'
'Good.'
They simultaneously reached into their handbags and retrieved their day planners. Hermione's was neat, full of notes about meetings and deadlines; she could see Lavender's was written in mostly pink or purple ink, that there were hearts on quite a few of the dates and that the book was made thicker with the addition of photographs attached to pages already passed.
'How's next ... Friday?' She was poised with a magenta quill over the date. Hermione looked down at her own planner, Friday read: 'Meeting with HoD, 10am. Presentation 2pm.' Her stomach twisted. Less than a week away? She really had no excuse not to do this. Take the plunge, Hermione, she told herself mentally, take a chance.
'That's fine,' she said at last.
'Do you want a boy or a girl?'
'Pardon?'
'The date? Do you want it to be with someone who is male, or someone who is female?' Lavender was acting like this was a normal question, but it was one that Hermione had never been asked before; it took her off-guard.
'Oh. Male.'
'Just checking ... Anthony Goldstein, do you know him?'
'He was in the D.A., but I wouldn't exactly call him a friend.' She nervously sipped at the last of her cappuccino.
'That's perfect. He's a Ravenclaw; he's an acquaintance but not someone you know too well. I think you'll really hit it off.'
'Here's hoping.'
'Do you want to double date with me, to break the ice?'
'Would that be a good idea?'
'I think so. It usually is in this situation.'
'Okay.' She paused, looking for something - anything - to say. 'Who will be your date?'
'Let me worry about that, sweetie.' She was collecting up her things now. 'I'll be in touch.'
--
Hermione arrived fifteen minutes late for the double date, which was not only not a good first impression to make, but also gave Lavender the opportunity to study Hermione as she arrived, rather than being swept up in multiple greetings. As the waiter took her jacket and led her over to the table, Hermione reminded herself not to order anything that involved garlic, before questioning herself on her motives; after all, why avoid the garlic if she wasn't planning on kissing anyone. Eat garlic, she decided, it's a first date.
Lavender's date, it turned out, was Seamus Finnegan. Well, that meant there'd be no keeping this secret from her friends, although, who was she kidding? She was there with Lavender after all. They all greeted one another fondly and Hermione was grateful when Anthony pulled the chair out for her and went to the bar to get her a drink. Lavender immediately inquired as to her opinions, of course; Hermione responded favourably, though truth be told she just wasn't sure.
This was highlighted at the end of the evening after Lavender and Seamus had left (they seemed to be getting along very well indeed). Hermione and Anthony seemed to be ambling aimlessly away from the restaurant. The conversation was comfortable, fun, but hardly charged with sexual tension.
'Listen, Hermione,' said Anthony at a lull in the conversation. 'I've had a great evening. Really. You're great.'
Hermione's heart sank. Oh rejection, that familiar friend back to say 'hello' and 'screw you'. Not that she was particularly interested in Anthony as it happened but ... well maybe a quick snog on the doorstep would have been nice. Maybe she'd had too much wine. In any case, rejection was never nice.
'Don't get me wrong,' he continued, 'I really think you're incredibly ... shaggable.'
This was becoming incomprehensible. 'But?'
'But. I don't know. We don't really have any chemistry, do we?'
Hermione smiled. 'You're right. It's like I like you, and you're attractive but I don't feel that certain pull.'
'No. I have had fun though. We should do it again sometime. In fact -' Oh no - he had an idea. In Hermione's experience, when one of the boy's had an idea things did not end well. '-I know just the person who'd get along with you. Will you let me set you up?'
So now she was being sent on a blind date by her almost-blind date. Why could things never be simple? Why couldn't some Adonis simply sweep her off her feet and out of this tangled web that was dating? She sighed. Fuck it. Why not?
'Sure, Anthony, go for it. What have I got to lose?'
He grinned. 'Excellent. I'll be in touch soon!'
--
She saw Ron for the first time in what felt like forever on the day of her blind date. She had decided to visit Harry at Grimmauld Place, which he had moved into full time not long ago. It was much cleaner than they'd ever been able to get it before, which Harry said was down to Molly Weasley. It even looked homely in some areas, though the shrieking portrait of Mrs. Black was ever-present. They headed straight for the kitchen and a pot of tea.
'Does it feel strange,' asked Hermione as she poured in her milk, 'living here?'
Harry shrugged. 'No stranger than when it was me, you, and Ron.'
'Does Ginny stay over much?'
'I think she'd like to, but ... you know her family. They'd lynch me.'
'Well she can always say she's at mine.'
'I'll tell her.'
It was nice, just sitting having a cup of tea with Harry. It was relaxed. It had been strange, the completely relaxed nature of their conversations those last two years. The lack of menace hanging over them had taken a while to get used to. Then, as paths diverged, the lack of three was even more noticeable. It was as if they didn't work the same anymore, couldn't work as a trio. Hermione thought it was probably her fault, her inability to let go.
They were first alerted to there being someone at the door when Mrs. Black started up again. Harry went to shut her up and get the door, leaving Hermione sipping her tea alone. She recognised the sound of Ron's footsteps descending the stairs to the kitchen before she realised it was he to whom Harry was talking. Ron, in turn, stopped dead in the doorway on sighting Hermione. She could see Harry behind him, doing his very best to act casually.
'Hermione. Hi.'
'Hello Ron, how are you? I'll get you a mug.' She did so with a flick of her wand and swiftly began to pour him tea in an attempt to avoid his eyes. Her heart was racing. Why did it do that?
'Fine. You?'
And so it went on for most of the afternoon, the pleasantries, the careful avoidance of the topic of their love lives and the awkward comfortable silence whenever Harry left them alone. It was driving her insane. It was a nicely familiar feeling of insanity though, if she was honest.
She stayed as long as she possibly could, all the while hoping, praying, that Ron would leave first. But he didn't. She made her excuses, but neither Harry nor Ron seemed to believe her in the slightest (she had never been a particularly good liar, after all).
'I have a date tonight,' she said finally, with a shrug.
'A date?' Ron looked suspicious. 'What do you mean, "a date"?'
'You know, meet up with someone, go out, do something fun, with a view to maybe eventually ... doing other fun things.' She stared him right in the eyes as she said it. She may not have been able to quite say 'have sex' but she damn well wasn't going to be embarrassed about the prospect. He had no right to have any opinion on her love life: he'd had his chance - more of a bloody chance than most people - and he hadn't taken it. His loss. She was moving on.
'And who are you going on this date with?'
She stood up and began collecting together her things to leave. She could see Harry out of the corner of her eye, looking as awkward as she'd ever seen him.
'I don't know.'
'What do you mean you don't know?'
'It's a blind date. Anthony Goldstein organised it for me.'
'A blind date? A blind date? Hermione, you're not going.' He was on his feet now, too, hands pressing hard on the kitchen table.
'Of course I'm going. What are you on about?'
'It could be anyone. It could be, a murderer, or a rapist - a Slytherin or You-Know-Who.'
She raised her eyebrows. 'Ron, if I'm sure of one thing in this life, it's that Anthony Goldstein is not sending me off on a date with Voldemort.' He seemed to have a slight lingering twitch in response to the name, even now. 'I appreciate your concern, really, but it'll be fine. I'll be fine.'
They both accepted pecks on the cheek as she departed. She was surprised and tried not to loiter over Ron. It was really just remnants of the past that she felt around him. That was all.
--
She did not see Ron for three months after their meeting at Grimmauld Place. Whether he was avoiding her, she was avoiding him or it was a coincidence, she couldn't tell. As far as she could gather, his relationship with Hannah was going as well as could be expected. Meanwhile, Hermione found herself utterly in lust with Terry Boot. She didn't quite know how it had happened, he'd never really drawn her attention at school, but on that first date even there was a connection between them. Hermione held out until the third and then indulged in ripping his clothes off (well, maybe it was more carefully removing).
Almost three months to the day, they met at a dinner party, of all places. A dinner party at Luna's house. It was almost as if their hostess endeavoured to make the evening as awkward as possible, but it was Luna, so that couldn't possibly have been the case.
Hermione was seated in between Terry and Ron. She could see the latter throwing sidelong glances - disapproving glances - at her throughout the meal. When she felt a hand on her knee during dessert, she panicked for a moment, before realising it was the correct hand. Terry's. Not that that needed clarifying because it was perfectly obvious that the right person to be touching her knee would be Terry. Not Ron. Definitely not Ron.
Who was she kidding?
No one, was the answer. They all damn well knew how she felt. Except maybe Terry and Ron. It was ridiculous, it was beyond a joke. There was no moving on when everything was left hanging between them. She resolved to ... resolve it. She would do it as soon as there was an opening.
Why is it that time runs slowly when one is waiting for something? The post-dinner Butterbeers and coffees seemed to take an eon. She caught Ron in the hall and asked to talk to him outside.
'Can it wait?'
'No, I don't think it can.' She might lose all her bottle if she didn't do it now.
It was a cold, crisp night. She had forgotten that going outside might mean freezing. Too late to go back for a jacket, and they wouldn't be out long enough to start a fire. Oh Jesus, why was she debating this? Time to do it. To just say it.
'The thing is - well, I don't expect anything - I'm not trying to achieve anything really except that I need to tell you. And then I'll have told you.'
'What are you on about, Hermione?' He looked like all of those evenings in the common room, poring over History of Magic essays.
'What I'm on about is the fact that I'm in love with you. I have been in love with you for ... forever. I know you don't feel the same way about me and that's fine. I'm just trying to move on and to do that I needed to tell you.'
His expression hadn't changed. He didn't move, just stood there, staring at her like she was a Goblin and he couldn't quite remember what year she'd died in.
'Okay ... well, now that this is over I think we can go back inside.'
'Go back inside?' He had woken up, apparently.
'Yes. The others will wonder where we've gone.'
'You're in love with me?'
'Yes. But there's no need to make a big deal out of it.'
'Yes there is. There is need to make a bloody big deal out of it. You're not in love with me. I'm in love with you and you don't feel the same way about me.'
'Clearly, Ron, that's not the case. Wait - what?'
'We've really ballsed it all up, haven't we?' he asked quietly, looking at her furtively. She smiled.
'It certainly looks that way.'
'So let me get this straight,' he said, more confident now. 'You're in love with me. And I'm in love with you.'
'That's the situation as I understand it, yes.' The smile had become a grin. The cold was suddenly irrelevant.
'Come here.'
She closed the two paces between them and before she could say anything, or ask any more questions, he leaned down and kissed her. It brought all the clarification she needed.
'I've been waiting so long to do that.' His voice sounded very throaty, all of a sudden.
'Me too. But what now?'
'Now ... well I'm going for a slash, because you caught me on the way to the loo and frankly if I don't go back in soon I'm going to start dancing and then-'
'I get the idea, thanks, Ron.'
'Then I don't know.'
'Maybe act like nothing happened. Go on like normal and sort it out in the morning.'
'So this is a secret.'
'Yes. It'll be exciting.'
He grinned, squeezed her hand and headed back inside. She let out an involuntary giggle, before turning back herself. Luna was in the window upstairs, smiling down at her serenely. Hermione rolled her eyes playfully, before going into the house in order to locate a bottle of wine. She would secretly celebrate tonight.
Who knew what kind of celebrations would follow tomorrow?
------------------------
ORIGINAL REQUEST
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive: Ron and Hermione post-Hogwarts. I'd love for their UST to continue, for Ron to be pining for her a bit but seeing other women, for Hermione not to be a prude and actually date/sleep with other men but also be pining for Ron, and then for them to get together :) Doesn't have to be canon.
Preferred Genre(s): Angst, humor, romance.
Preferred Rating(s): Anything is fine.
Canon or AU?: Either is fine, but if it's AU I'd like it to feel like a continuation from one of the books rather than totally set in a true "alternate universe."
A specific you want: Unresolved sexual tension.
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): Prudish Hermione or virginal Hermione.
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