Bloody Hell, Ron. I thought you liked her," Ginny said as they hurry to the Great Hall.
"It was her fault, you know," he mumbled. Ginny looked at him sideways and frowned.
Sighing, she led Ron to the Gryffindor table and scanned the small crowd for the familiar head of chocolate brown hair. She knew the real Hermione, and laughed at the idea of her insensitive brother ever trying to understand. Hermione was sensitive, she was easily hurt. Ginny knew that Ron tended to push arguments, too. The two had been bickering something fierce all through the year, and to make matters worse it was Christmas. There was no sign of her.
"Why does she do this, though? I mean, you know her, you're her best friend!" Ron said irritably.
"Really? I'm her best friend? Alright, Mister Killed-A-Troll-For-Her, let's say I am. How will I help you?" Ginny asked, a hint of mocking in her voice.
"You know her! I don't! Why does it seem like it's me, Ron, who always touches a nerve?" He sounded exasperated.
"Merlin's beard. You're as dimwitted as you look."
"Help me!"
"Alright. What do you argue about? I've noticed that literally nobody else does." Ginny said.
"Um, let's see. Oh yes. I said I still couldn't believe she hasn't given up on spew."
"Oh my gosh. What were you thinking? You vile-"
"What?"
"S.P.E.W is one of the things she cares about more than many, many things." Ginny sounded utterly bewildered her prefect brother had said such nonsense.
"Oh. Well, I didn't know." The scowl he had worn so animatedly slipped off his face and was immediately replaced with a panicked frown.
"Shut up, you did." Ginny said.
"Fine. Yes, I did. But you know I like her, you said so yourself. I need to make up. I have to. It's Christmas and I can't think of her sitting alone in the common room while she thinks I'm laughing at her! You have to help me, I'll do anythi-"
"Alright, alright! I'll help you! Bloody Hell, Ron, you're pathetic. Go up to the common room, make sure she's alone, it's important she's alone. Comfort her. Make up. She's a sucker for stuff like that. Make her feel special. Bring her this." Ginny pulled out her wand from her inside pocket. She mumbled something indistinct and a shower of colored sparks fell to the table. They rested there for a second or two, than hurried together to form a fuzzy red rose, slowly materializing to a more solid flower.
"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you." A huge grin slid over Ron's freckled face and he jumped up and raced out of the Hall.
Ginny sighed and shook her head.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Ron said excitedly to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Correct," She said smiling.
"Listen, is anyone in the common room right now?" Ron asked anxiously.
"Yes, just Hermione."
"Perfect. Now do me a favor, don't let anyone else in."
"Alright." The Fat Lady smiled.
"Thank you! Happy Christmas," he added as he climbed through the portrait hole. Behind him, he heard the door swing shut.
And his grin was ripped from his face. His heart hurt. Looking back to the fireplace, he saw Hermione sitting with her head in her hands in front of the fire. She was facing him, her beautiful hair laying flat against the polished brick. Her shoulders were heaving heavily, harsh breaths and loud sobs echoing through the otherwise uninhabited room. She appeared to have noticed him, as she looked up suddenly, attempting to hastily dry her soaking eyes. But as she saw who was standing in the doorway, her stomach lurched as she backed up farther into the wall, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.
Ron ached. He did this? How could a little sentence make such a horrible sight? And why, of all people, did it have to be the witch he was in love with?
It was painful to watch this, the girl he loved cowering against a wall from the sight of him, crying at the sight of him, scared, fearful, unwillingly with him.
"Merlin's beard, Hermione?" he asked softly, the words just barely audible through the sobs thundering through his ears. She sank her dead deeper in her hands and he noticed a small puddle forming around her seat, made of the tears she had been shedding for over an hour.
"What do you want?" she asked, her angry voice small and scared and muffled from behind her hands.
Ron's heart gave another sharp pang of guilt. It was his fault. How could he have let this happen?
"I, uh, oh, please stop crying!" Ron said. The guilt and pain hadn't stopped rising in his throat, twisting around his aching heart, taking over his pounding head. He took a few steps closer to her, so that there was a foot of floor between them.
Hermione looked up, silent, but taking in alarmingly deep breaths.
"What do you want?" she repeated. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks shiny with tears. The sight of her made Ron feel sadder but a bit more encouraged.
"I, well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, really. I think S.P.E.W. is brilliant, just like you," he said, looking sheepishly down at his feet. Why had he said that last bit?
Hermione, however, looked a bit better. Her cheeks had gained color from an obvious blush. Her breathing had become more regular.
"What?" She said bravely. She smiled a bit, although it looked more like she was trying to stop her muffled sobs.
"I think you're brilliant. Honestly, Hermione. I don't know what I was saying. I'm sorry." He said, looking up. He was grinning a little, he looked at her hopefully. She smiled more and wiped her face with her sleeve.
"It's alright," Hermione said. Ron held up the rose, its petals gleaming in the cackling fire's light. Hermione stood up. With a shaking hand, she took the pretty flower and set it on the desk on her side. Ron ginned a bit wider.
"I'm really sorry. It's Christmas. I couldn't stand thinking of you all alone in here, crying and thinking I hate you."
"Really?"
"Really."
It happened out of nowhere. Hermione took a step forward and closed her eyes, leaving Ron a split second to process this and she sealed their lips together. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his hair brushing against her tear-soaked sleeve. Suddenly realizing what was happening, Ron closed his own eyes and put his arm around her waist, his other on her soft hair. Hermione pulled away her lips. Surprised, Ron opened his eyes and stared into hers.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too," she said.
And he tightened his grip, pulling them together in a deep kiss. She pulled his head closer and they stayed there, hardly breathing, Ron stroking her long hair and clutching her slim waist and her holding them close, very close, together as the couple kissed passionately.
As they finally pulled away, Hermione smiled widely. Keeping one arm around his neck, she slid one hand down Ron's chest. One more kiss, and they walked back down the stairs, past a grumpy looking second year who had been waiting in front of the portrait, and entered the Great Hall. Ginny was already waiting for them at the tale.
They sat across from her, smiling goofily.
"What happened? Are you two alright?" Ginny asked with impressively unreadable fake curiosity.
"More than," Hermione said. And, just to prove it, she put her arm around his shoulder and kissed Ron on the cheek.