"The Procrastinator"
Stupid bloody ball.Ron hated these idiotic soirees where a bunch of giggly girls swooned over boys who were smarter, funnier, and better-looking than he.
Stupid bloody ball.
It was only stupid, he realized reluctantly, because he had failed to ask her--again. At least that Krum wasn't here this year. That thought made him feel better momentarily.
He looked at the girl next to him. She was beautiful, he realized with an abrupt shiver. Her robes were a light, silky lavender. Her hair was smooth and twisted into an elaborate knot in the back of her head, sort of like in fourth year, with two delicate strands framing her face. Her deep brown eyes were alight with laughter as she watched Harry step on Ginny's toes as they were dancing.
He couldn't take his eyes off her...
Stupid bloody ball.
Because Ron just didn't have enough to worry about already. What with You-Know-Who and almost his entire family being in the Order, dating had to be thrown into the mix. No—not dating--dancing. He wasn't dating anyone. No matter what he wished. He sighed.
Stupid, idiotic bloody ball.
The entire night Ron battled internally with himself. She was sitting right there; why couldn't he just ask her to dance? Because I'm a coward, he told himself, that's why. He shouldn't have been placed in Gryffindor. He should've been sorted into sodding Hufflepuff. At times he tried to strike up a conversation with her, but he always seemed to begin stammering incoherently and, in a nutshell, fail dismally. But why? Hermione was one of his best friends. Even if he did fancy her, what was the point if he couldn't talk to her? And why was he chickening out now? This was Hermione for Merlin's sake, what was he afraid of?
Rejection, he told himself.
He had failed her. In fourth year Hermione had told him not to ask her as a last resort—and at least he hadn't done that... unfortunately he hadn't asked her at all. But why? How could she possibly have this affect on him?
Stupid bloody ball.
It was the last dance of the night. This was it. This was his last shot. It was now or never.
He took a deep breath.
No, he decided. Looks like it'll be never.
He mentally shook himself. He was going to do this. But how? He wanted to somehow look suave and debonair without making a complete idiot out of himself.
Do it now.
He stood up so abruptly that his knee hit the table they were sitting at, causing it to wobble dangerously and causing Hermione to cast him an incredulous look.
And then he did something even he didn't expect.
He held out his hand toward Hermione, who arched an eyebrow. "Want to dance?" he asked with a nervous chuckle.
Hermione crossed her arms. "You're about two years late."
Ron's face fell.
Hermione grinned and took his hand, almost causing Ron to start in surprise. "But," she said reasonably. "I suppose it's better late than never."
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A/N: Reviews are greatly appreciated, so thanks in advance! This is just random one-shot fluff so don't be expecting any more to it. Oh, yeah-- Potter & Co. do not belong to me.
