He hates being tall.
It scares him that he towers above nearly everyone he knows. He finds it intimidating that, if he wants to talk to his friends, more often than not he has to look all the way down.
He's laying on his stomach in front of the fire. He's bored out of his mind. It's Christmas break and he's absolutely thrilled to be home, but they're snowed in and everyone's busy. Harry is talking with Ginny-surprise, surprise-Fleur and his mother are making dinner, his father, Percy, Bill, and George are all talking in low voices about work, which leaves only-
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?" a page turns idly.
"Play chess with me?"
Her head shoots up. She's somehow tamed her wild hair into a messy bun at the bottom of her neck with a few strands hanging down, sitting sideways in the overstuffed armchair that she loves to sit in, her legs draping elegantly over the armrest. There's something in her eyes that makes him afraid she'll say no.
"In a second, Ron. Just let me finish this chapter and then I'll let you beat me in chess for the fifth time this week." her chocolate brown eyes have a teasing glint in them. Her head snakes down again and she continues reading.
He sighs; better late than never, he supposes, but-still. Hermione does come up with some interesting strategies he's sure she's used in Muggle chess.
Another page flips.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"How much longer till you're done?"
He sounds like a five-year old and he knows it. There's a look of surprise in those beautiful eyes of hers. Those eyes have always reminded him of rivers. They seemed calm on the outside, but you could drown in them if you didn't watch out.
And Ron Weasley has a special talent for drowning in Hermione Granger's eyes.
"It shouldn't take me long; about five minutes at most. Don't you have homework?"
Uh-oh. She has that stern look on, the one that reminds him of Professor McGonogall.
Yet, it's one of the faces he can't resist.
He puts on his lopsided grin and says loftily, "C'mon, 'Mione, I'll do my homework later. Play chess with me first!"
She shakes her head, grinning a little grin of her own.
"Ron, I honestly have no idea how you manage to not get expelled."
He rolls over on his back and grins his lopsided grin at her. "Good thing I have such a smart best friend, eh?"
She blushes slightly; he doesn't miss it. Other people might, but he has a knack for finding the little things about his best friend. He decides it's cute and presses on, hoping to make her blush even more.
"Good thing I have such an intelligent, beautiful, funny, talented-"
Her face is burning.
"Yes, alright, Ron," Harry breaks in, his face completely serious, "We all know that you love Hermione; you don't need to rub it in."
Ginny giggles.
Now it's his ears that're burning red. "You-" he starts, glaring at his best friend. "D'you want to keep snogging my sister?"
Ginny sticks her tongue out at her favorite brother.
"Ron," Hermione chides, flipping yet another page. "It's not nice to threaten people."
Harry smirks.
"That wasn't a real threat!" he protests.
Hermione rolls her eyes.
"'Moine-" he starts again.
"A few more minutes, Ron," her voice holding just a tinge of annoyance. "A few more minutes and then I'll be done."
He watches her, then stands up, shaking his head. "No," he says, crossing over to her. "You're done now,"
He swiftly grabs the book and pulls it out of Hermione's loose grasp. She gasps and stands up, reaching for her book on tiptoe.
"Give me back my book, Ron!" she cries. She falls against his chest, reaching for it. He's holding it lazily about his head, not even trying to keep it away from her.
"Ronald Weasley!" she cries, trying and failing to keep a growing smile from spreading on her face. "Give it back!"
He grins at her.
Sometimes, being tall has its advantages.