Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
One Wintry Day
"Oof!" Hermione voiced eloquently in protestation. A large snowball had just hit her back, splattering across her jacket and hair.
"Ronald! Where are you?"
How could she know it was he, you ask? Very simply: he was the only one that would do something so immature.
Hermione turned slowly, scanning the Hogwarts grounds for any sign of red hair. When she didn't find any, the young witch couldn't help but wonder where her friend was hiding. She started another circle just in time to see a snowball exactly like the first hurtling towards her. Only this time, Hermione was aware of the impending danger and had time to duck. She could tell by looking at the remains that large, gloved hands had carefully molded the round ball of snow. Hermione also now knew where the snowballs were coming from – a group of bushes by the side of the castle.
She warily approached the greenery, but still couldn't see anybody hiding behind it. When she got closer, Hermione asked the general area, "Ron, you didn't steal Harry's cloak, did you?"
For the second time that day, she let out a muffled "oof!" as a hand was clapped around her mouth and she was pulled beneath a heavy piece of fabric.
Hermione spoke as soon as the warm hand left her mouth. "Honestly Ron, if you're going to throw snowballs at me and then let me know where you are anyway, what's the point?"
"The point was to get you to come over here without attracting attention."
All of a sudden, Hermione realized how close she was to Ron. The cloak wasn't as big as it appeared in their younger days, and it seemed to be shrinking by the minute. If she took just a little deeper of a breath, she could actually smell Ron's unique scent in the winter air. That thought alone was enough to make Hermione's toes tingle.
"So what did you want me for, Ron?"
The whole time his best friend was zoning out, the redhead had been staring at her. Her beautiful, rosy cheeks in the half-light of the cloak, her slightly bushy but now damp brown hair (thanks to him), and the tiny snowflakes that rested on her eyelashes.
"For this."
And without further ado, Ron leaned forward and softly pressed his lips against Hermione's. He lingered there for just a moment, before pulling back.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione."
His secret crush just gazed fondly back with a small smile on her face, before she once again became good old regular Hermione.
"Right. Because spontaneously generating snowballs that fly through the air on their own won't attract anyone else's attention because that's not strange at all."
Ron merely grinned.
A/N: Just my little post-Christmas fic. Actually, it's been done for a while, I just haven't uploaded it. I hope to make this into a series of "One Day" with different words in the blank each time.
Also, if anybody actually cares, I know I haven't updated Quality Time for a looong time, but I hopefully will soon. Meanwhile, I'll try to come up with an adequate excuse.
Please Review! For all fluffiness everywhere?Or snow? Anyway, Happy Christmas/Holidays!