A/N: I own nothing, if I did, well then I'd be some kind super J.K.R./Shakespeare author, and I would probably be like the happiest person ever!! But since I am not, I don't own anything. My name isn't in any American or British household, and my work is not being turned into a movie. But if I do say so myself, if I made a movie out of this It would totally rock!!

Late winter's Night Dream

Ron's socked feet padded heavily down the boys' dormitory stairs and he stepped drearily into the common room rubbing his temples with the base of his hands, his eyes closed in frustration. He heard the alarmed speak of furniture springs and looked up.

Hermione sat bundled in a bed comforter on the couch and a small stack of books sitting faithfully close by. Her face held a small hint of surprise; she still had a slight cold, so her nose was still pink and her mouth always slightly open. Her hair was oddly pulled into a sleek bun and fashioned with a chip, rather then its usual frizzy bush, Ron was so accustomed to. He had so many questions stocked up in his mind to ask her, but this was the first that flopped out of his mouth.

"What are you doing here?"

"Lavender won't shut up," her voice was accented with congestion, she glanced over to him slightly interested, "you?"

"Same thing," he said in exasperation as he walked over to her, and flung himself into the space beside her feet.

"What has she given you some kind of device to talk when ever she wants, and now you hear her whine all the time?" Hermione's inventive sarcasm was not taken so lightly.

"Merlin No!" Ron looked mortified at the mere idea, "I keep having this dream that I break it off, but then she turns into a sphinx and eats me!" Hermione tried to hold in her mirth, "Don't laugh those dreams can really freaky, the last one I wasn't wearing trousers!"

"Break up with her already!" Hermione urged through the laughter.

"Don't you think I want to?" Ron snapped.

"Well, you better do it soon," Hermione warning sing-songly, "It was all I could do to over hear her saying something about you taking her on an amazingly romantic date for St. Valentine's day."

"What, I thought that passed while I was in the hospital wing? I thought I was safe!" Ron seemed on the verge of hysterics.

"Don't worry, Ron, Harry and I aren't going to let that harpy do this to you any more," Hermione pouted sympathetically, "but you've got to admit, it's your own fault for letting this get so out of hand, honestly why Lavender?"

"Why MacLaggen?" Ron countered.

"Touché," Hermione muttered, and looked away from him. There was a second of silence.

"What's the occasion?" Ron asked, for the sake of conversation.

"Hmm?"

"Your hair… it's smooth, it's never like that."

"Oh, no, no it's not special, it's wet," she corrected, "I took a shower, to get away from Lavender. When I came back she was still jabbering, so I just came down here," she then added meekly, "but thanks for noticing."

"Bit of silly thing to notice," Ron stared out into the fire dying before them, "What are you reading anyhow? I'd have thought you'd study enough in the day time."

"Their not school books Ron, I read these to relax."

"So you read school books to be stressed and these to relax," Ron connected the

dots incredulously, "As odd as it sounds it seems to suit you."

"Thanks," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"So what is it?"

"Shakespeare," she said shortly but pleased he asked.

"Oh, which play?"

"Mid—Ron you know Shakespeare?!" she was awestruck.

"Yeah," He assured her, secretly disgruntled she thought he didn't know any

famous muggles at all, "I've never read any of it," he then quickly clarified, "dad thought

it might be fun to see a muggle cinema picture, Hamlet was playing."

"And you liked it?" Hermione's eyes were shining to find this different part of

Ron.

"Hamlet kept talking to himself, that got kind of boring," he frowned at the

memory, "But the plot was pretty cool and the gore was wicked. Then another time mum

took me to see Romeo and Juliet with her and Ginny. That was not pleasant; I had to leave the theater when I kept calling Romeo an idiot."

"You think so too?"

"Yeah, I didn't get to see the end, but mum and Ginny were crying when they came out so I didn't mind missing it." He shook his head of the thought, "So what'd that?"

"Midsummer Night's Dream, sorry, no gore."

"Oh, so no one dies then?"

"No, it's a comedy, so everyone really just ends up married," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Uh-huh, well I'll let you get back to it," Ron made to get up.

"Well I just picked this up when you came in, you could stay and I could you it to you," she tried for a casual tone but added quickly, "Besides I'm sure it's a much better option then being eaten by Sphinx Lavender in your knickers over and over again,"

Ron cringed when he remembered his nightmare, "Well, when you're right, you're right."

"And I'm always right."

"Just start reading," Ron smirked,

"Act I…" she began.

By the third act Ron was asleep, by the second scene, so was Hermione.

Ron opened his eyes. He expected to wake up to the common room ceiling. He started in bemusement at a star strewn sky bordered by young tree tops. He sat bolt up; he was sitting on a mossy bed of forest floor. Ron wasn't even in the school robes he fell asleep in that night, but Greek linens with armor over. He looked to his side and jumped in surprise of the strangest thing he'd ever seen. Sitting starry eyed and transfixed on Ron was Hermione. She sat on her knees in a Greek toga as well, that flowingly fell just at the bottom of her thigh. Her face glowed and was lightly made up. Atop her head was a wreath of flowers, and ribbons that ran down through her hair. It was not wet in a clip nor was its ordinary bush of curls, more of a median between the two. She was stunning in the moon light.

In a natural wordless moment, they leaned toward each other, eyes closed, and lips met in a short magnetic kiss.

A/N : Sooo? trust me it gets better that was only the exposition!! Tell me whats one your mind!! REVIEW PLeaSe!