Always Do
By Jade Shadow
A/N: Here it is, my first Ron/Hermione fic. Third fluff story for fanfiction, but anyway…errr…please R/R! Oh, yeah, in case you missed that, it's RON/Hermione not harry/Hermione…sorry, all you H/H shippers…and there's *just* a touch of R/H in there…:-b.
Disclaimer: *huge, wracking sobs* N-no, they d-don't b-b-belong t-t-to m-m-me! WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH! Ms. Joanne Kathleen Rowling claims all ownership of Harry, Ron, the Fat Lady, Gryffindor, the Gryffindor tower, Alicia Spinnet, Quidditch, and, and, and everything else!!! :-(
Ron and Hermione ran down the stands to the ground, yelling at Harry, who had just caught the Snitch and ended the game against Slytherin, 180-20. They could see his black hair bobbing around in the midst of the Quidditch field, where he was surrounded by the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "Harry!" Ron called.
"Just a second! Go on! I'll meet up with you!" came the reply.
Ron shrugged at Hermione and they both started up the lawn to the castle. After a moment, they slowed down to let the rest of the crowd pull ahead of them. "That was an amazing game, wasn't it?" said Hermione with a dreamy sigh. "Harry's dive at the end was just spectacular. The way he sped right past Draco on that Firebolt of his…"
Ron glanced sidelong at her as she described the game to him, even though she knew that he had been there. Quite unlike Hermione, Ron decided, although she'd been acting like this for a month already. He noticed that all of a sudden Harry seemed to be a teenage god in her eyes, perfect in every way, shape, and form. Ron was quite used to his best friend being worshiped, but that was with first-, second-, and ditzy seventh-years. Having Hermione worship Harry was quite different. She hadn't done it around Harry, yet, but she didn't seem to notice the way Ron winced every time she got started. Not that he really understood why he winced.
"…and then," she continued, making Ron jump, "he-oh! Hi, Harry."
Ron started again. Harry was suddenly standing at his shoulder, grinning at them. "Hey, guys! What's up?"
"Oh, um, nothing," said Hermione carefully. "I'm going to the library. Yeah, that's it. Err, um, bye." As she dashed off, Harry turned to Ron with a puzzled frown on his face.
"What was that all about?" he said.
Suddenly, for Ron, it clicked. "Think Ginny, second year."
Harry grinned again, obviously still feeling the effects of the adrenaline. "That was a wild year, wasn't it? Not as wild as other years, maybe, but still…"
Ron whacked his friend on the head. "Hello? Ginny, second year? I know that you're mentally challenged, but try, please."
Harry looked a bit dazed, but then he shook himself and frowned. "What about Ginny? She was mad about me then-she still is, come to think of it-but what does that have to do with-Hermione!"
"Shut up!" said Ron as Harry yelped the last word.
"Hermione doesn't like me! Ron, that's just-just-just not…Hermione!"
"Well, in case you haven't noticed, Hermione's not been acting quite like Hermione, lately," Ron commented dryly.
"Well, yeah, I'll give you that. But what makes you think she likes me?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "You realize that she's been worshiping you as a teenage god, right?"
"She has?"
"Yes. Now don't say you're not pleased-"
Harry flushed. "How'd you know?"
"You talk in your sleep."
"I do not!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Calm down, will you?"
"I've just discovered that the girl of my dreams is madly in love with me and you expect me to calm down? Ron-"
Harry stopped as they reached the front doors of the school and went inside. Hermione was waiting for them. Quickly she eased herself between them, grinned at them (more at Harry, Ron noticed with a faint, inexplicable twinge), and asked, "So, you want to go eat?"
"Hermione, we already had dinner."
"Oh, right," she said, blushing, as they made their way to the Gryffindor common room, where the party had no doubt already started. Ron, for some strange reason, was not in the mood for the festivities and quietly made his way to the fifth year's dormitory, where he changed into his pajamas and lay down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Wondering why Hermione's latest obsession was Harry, and why it made his stomach roil.
***
At the end of November, Harry and Hermione had announced their newfound relationship and started going out in earnest. Ron had quickly decided to hang back, and instead hung out with Dean Thomas, even if all they ever did was argue about Quidditch and football. As the month changed, and December began, rumors about the Yule Ball started circling around the school. Seamus and Lavender were going together, as well as Ginny and Neville and, of course, Harry and Hermione. Ron and Dean were the only dateless fifth years; Parvati was going with a Ravenclaw boy.
One bright December morning, Ron awoke, dressed, and went downstairs to discover that the common room was almost devoid of people. Harry had Quidditch, and everyone else was already at breakfast, Ron decided. He turned slightly, and spotted a lone figure working in the corner. Casually wandering over to a couch near the table, he remarked, "What's that? Spew?"
Hermione looked up, for once not noticing his mispronunciation of her now-dead organization. "Oh, hello Ron," she said, standing up. "I've been wanting to speak to you for such a long time…"
While she spoke, Ron found that his eyes were straying to a lock of light brown hair that hung next to her neck, slightly apart from the other locks. As he studied it, he decided that it looked quite lovely, hanging all by itself like that. Of course, Ron couldn't figure out why he was even considering contemplating Hermione's pretty, soft, shiny brown hair, but there it was, framing her face, and there was no denying that it looked wonderful.
"...and then Harry…Ron? Ron?" Hermione said. Ron blinked.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Ron felt rather silly.
Hermione rolled her caramel-colored eyes. "You don't care anything about other people, do you?" He voice was flat. "As I was saying, you don't seem to hang out with us as much."
"You and Harry? Are you kidding me?" Ron shrugged uncomfortably. "You two are going out, for crying out loud."
"Well, yes," said Hermione, blushing as she brushed at the suspiciously pretty lock of hair. Ron missed its disappearance into her bushy mass of hair because he was considering her cheeks. It was absolutely absurd, of course, but her smooth cheeks looked so pretty while they were pink. Ron sighed quietly, but Hermione was going off on the less intimate details of her relationship, something Ron wasn't interested in discussing. Somehow, she ended up standing rather close to him, forcing him to look down to meet her eyes. She wasn't really looking at him, which was a good thing, Ron concluded, as he stared at his reflection. Her eyes were dreamy, at the moment, but there was a spark of mischief, dancing throughout warm, light, coffee-colored irises. So warm…(not that it mattered, or anything…)
"…Ron?" Hermione now sounded annoyed. That might be a bad thing, Ron thought vaguely as he pulled himself out of hiss Hermione trance.
"Huh?" he mumbled, mentally shaking himself, cursing himself, and wondering why the heck he was being so slow. "You say something?" No, no, no, wrong response, you idiot.
"You're so insensitive!" Even as Hermione yelled at him, Ron realized he was eying her lips. Perfect little lips that should have been totally insignificant, as they had been for five years…but suddenly, Ron realized just how badly he wanted to kiss those lips, to twist that hair around his finger, to stroke those cheeks.
"Hermione?" he said, detecting a slight quaver in his voice that Hermione apparently didn't notice.
"…and, and, and-what?" she fumed.
Ron lingered in those brown eyes for a moment, before gathering everything he had inside him, grabbing her shoulders, and pulling her close for a long, hard kiss. He felt her shudder as he wrapped his long, lanky arms around her and pulled her closer. He lost all sense of reality as he melted against her warm, softening lips, dimly aware that Hermione had wrapped her arms around his neck. When they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath, Hermione actually seemed speechless.
"Ronald Weasley!"
"What?" he said, suddenly aware that she probably wanted to kill him. "Do you hate me?"
Surprisingly, she giggled. "No, you goose. Do you realize how long I've wanted you to do that?"
Ron felt blush creeping up his neck. "Err, no."
She sighed and leaned against him. "Forever and a day."
Ron couldn't come up with a dumb reply, so he brilliantly said, "Oh. Well…now what?"
"Hm?"
"What now?"
"Oh, that's a good point."
"Well…give me a break!"
Hermione smiled gently at him. "Poor Ronniekens," she whispered. For some reason, Ron really didn't care. "Maybe we should just go down to breakfast and wait for-oh my gosh, what do I do about Harry?"
Ron shrugged. "I'm sure he'll figure it out." They walked over to the door, Ron pushing it open and holding out a hand for Hermione. She accepted it and didn't let go after she got out. He squeezed it and pulled her closer.
"Have fun," the Fat Lady called after them as they walked down the hall, Ron grinning almost stupidly at Hermione. Sensing his gaze, she smiled impishly, pulled her hand out of his and dashed down the hallway. "Come try to catch me!" she yelled.
Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head knowingly as he ran after her. "I always do."
A/N: Well, there's my first R/H fic. I realize that the beginning is rather jumpy and halted, but I really didn't want to do a lot of elaborating because who cares about Harry and Hermione going out. Am I right? LOL j/k Well there it is please R/R RIGHT NOW please. And I hope everybody's happy.