Quills and Cushions

(A Ron/Hermione Ficlet, 6th year, during Lavender Brown, Valentine's Day)

Disclaimer: All characters and the world of HP belong to a very nice lady named Joann Kathleen Rowling. Not me, sadly. I just played with them.

Author's Notes: This is Night Patrols from Ron's point of view, the second in the series. And to be honest, even though Hermione is my favorite character... I think this version is just a tad better. Just my opinion though, hehe. I don't think I explained it in my last story, but both of these are while Ron is still with Lavender Brown. However, this is toward the end of their relationship so... Ron doesn't really feel like he is actually with her, and is mostly just too scared to actually break up with her.

Also, sequels have been written… but in my opinion… they are not very good. Well, not as good as the initial story. So until I get a chance to do some major editing, they will be on hold. But they will come someday (it might be 2 years from now, but someday, if you author alert me, you will get an update, lol.)

Ron's PoV

~*~

Ron rounded out of the corner of the hallway with a look on his face that could kill. Transfiguration was completely impossible. Who the hell invented such a stupid subject, anyway? After an hour and a half of McGonagall going on and on about turning quills into cushions, you would think he would have at least managed to make a nice fluffy pillow to smother himself in. But if anything, as the clock ticked by, his quill began looking more and more like it would have to be his weapon of choice to end the misery.

Of course, it wasn't completely just his own his abilities that had him ticked off. No, no, it was that of his classmates. Within the hour, almost everyone had made their quill at least look fluffy and poofy. No one else's writing utensils started smoldering halfway through the lesson. Even his best mate Harry had managed to turn his quill into a pretty blue pillow, with the only a few minor defects in the stitching.

And of course, out of everyone else's cushions, it was obvious whose the best was. Because it was the same person whose cushion (or anything for that matter) was always the best. But today was absolutely awful. The worst. Within only five minutes... five bloody minutes after the lesson had started, Hermione had managed to make a full length satin red pillow out of her quill. So for the rest of the lesson, Hermione was praised by McGonagall and quietly assisted pretty much every other Gryffindor in the room while easily getting her transfiguration homework done during the class. To be fair, she had offered him assistance, too, but although he couldn't remember how she had asked him, he certainly remembered how he had answered,

"If I want your help, Hermione, I'll ask for it."

He also hadn't missed the hurt look on her face when he had said it. She covered it up well, he thought. It was only a second before she had given him the usual bossy, mean look and stormed off to help Harry... but Ron hadn't missed that split second where her face and her eyes looked so... sad. Hurt. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. What made him feel even worse when he saw out of the corner of his eye Lavender smirking. Even though he could tell their relationship wouldn't last much longer... he still wished it was over right now. He'd only been with her to tick of Hermione anyway. And while it had worked, the constant snogging thing got really old, really quickly.

And so Ron did what he did best when Hermione was mad at him. He simply ignored her for the rest of the day. And ignored pretty much everyone and everything that had occurred for that rest of that day. He was only in the Great Hall for a few moments all day, mostly just to grab food; he spent the rest of the day outside the castle practicing his keeping. As it got dark, Ron was forced to re-enter the castle. And he was completely exhausted. As he entered the Gryffindor common room, he set his eyes on one thing... the open couch.

Ah-hah. A perfect way to reconcile with my current hate of transfigured cushions. I'll go take a nap on the pre-made ones...

As soon as Ron laid his face on the couch, he was out cold. And he had a dream...

There were thousands of Quills, all pointing at him and shooting feathers into the air. They marched around him in a circle. Suddenly, there was Harry and Hermione in front of him, inside the circle yet very far away somehow. A deatheater held a large red satin pillow, and out of it he pulled his wand. Ron felt himself panic, as he ran over to them screaming, "HERMIONE! HARRY! HANG ON!" No matter how fast he ran, he was unable to get close enough. Then, the Deatheater on the cushion muttered something and a bright purple spell shot from his wand right at Hermione. The spell seemed to freeze in midair as he saw Hermione's face... filled with a hurt, saddened expression, and looking right in his eyes. Suddenly her mouth opened and she shouted as the spell hit her...

"RON!"

Ron bolted up, heart pounding. He wasn't in a chamber, fighting deatheaters. He was in the common room. He looked around the room and laid eyes on Hermione, who was giving him a very stern look. What the hell is her problem!?

He decided to voice his previous though much louder.

"Well, what the bloody hell is it? The Deatheaters better be attacking the castle right this instant or I swear-"

"It's your turn to do patrols, Ron!" Hermione cut him off angrily.

Well the nerve of her! Scaring me out of my wits like that, for night patrol duty. Who even cares if other students are out of bed? If I was smart, I would be as well.

But there was no arguing with Hermione. One of the things he had learned over his many years of being friends with her was that she never lost an argument she had her heart in, SPEW and night patrols included. Ron sighed. He might as well go and help. They were already on thin ice as it was, given the whole… Lavender Brown thing.

"Fine, fine, keep you knickers on. But you're coming with me then." He replied bitterly. If she was going to ruin his night, he might as well make hers miserable as well. He got up off the couch, without making any eye contact with her, and moved toward the portrait hole. It was going to be a long night.

~*~

The patrols were as boring as Ron expected. But he had a distraction. He barely even paid attention to Hermione or the areas he was supposed to be 'watching'. He was thinking about that dream.

You've gone barmy, you have! Getting all riled up over a stupid dream like that. Deatheaters... carrying satin pillow cases, honestly...

But no matter how much he deferred his thoughts, he could not deny that each time the image- Hermione, on her back, body weak, deatheater pointing a wand at her heart- flashed in his head, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his stomach twist.

Ron took a chance and glanced at Hermione. She was looking at her watch. Hopefully that meant they were done. He'd had enough of this. Patrols were stupid. All they had left was the Astronomy tower... and anyone up there at this hour could just stay there for all he cared. But Hermione's voice broke the silence,

"Come on now... we should at least check the Astronomy tower..."

Ron gave her a look. He didn't argue, but he moved to the ladder and began to climb. Halfway up the ladder, he muttered quietly to himself what he had been thinking all night.

"The things I do for you... 'Mione."

If Hermione had heard him, she made no effort to respond. Phhfft. Fine. Like he cared anyway...

You do care, you just don't want to--- what on this Earth?

Ron looked straight ahead. It was a couple. A couple of Gryffindors at that. They looked a few years younger than him... but they were acting quite mature. He stared in awe as they kissed so passionately, it put Lavender's daily snogs to shame.

"See now, that wasn't so hard-" Hermione had just reached the top of the ladder. Ron quickly moved his hand to his lips to cut off her chatter and pointed to the couple.

Yes! This is it. I finally get to see Hermione in action. 'Fraternizing!?' She'll shout. 'Do you know what a horrible example you are setting? And Gryffindors at that!' It'll be amazing. These kids won't know what hit them. And I'll just stand here and watch this all go down…

Ron fought the urge to smile at the conversation going on in his head. Suddenly, he felt a slight breeze hit his hair, and he turned to find Hermione descending the ladder they had just come up, without a word. He hurried after her, and as soon as they were out of earshot, Ron began to ramble, amazed at her. Was she just going to leave them there? Doing… whatever it was they were going to do?

"Wha... I don't get it… isn't the whole point of doing rounds to find people and yell at them for being out of bed? Are you going soft? Why didn't you subtract like, a thousand million points for catching them 'fraternizing after hours?'" Ron felt himself gesturing violently to make his point. He was truly amazed. Hermione would have taken points off of herself for that type of behavior, normally.

Once again, the hurt covering expression from transfiguration had appeared back on her face. She turned away haughtily.

Ron hurried to catch up to her, and rounded on her. This was unfair. She never explained herself. Ever. What does she think I am, I a mind reader? Ron stared at her, confused, and waited for her to explain herself.

"It's Valentine's Day." Hermione said to him simply. Ron's gaze never moved from her eyes, as she went on to explain, "So I didn't see anything… did you?" she finished simply, and spun back around to walk back to the common room.

What! That's completely unfair... bonkers! Wait... Valentine's Day? Is that why everyone has been holed up around each other all day? Uggghhh. I really need to start checking the calendar more often. Must be why Lavender tried to give me chocolate today was well. Oi. She is going to be so mad at me tomorrow… although I don't really care, if I'm lucky, maybe she'll break up with me…

Ron had no choice but to follow Hermione, wordlessly. What was he supposed to say? Was she telling him she was mad at him for not saying Happy Valentine's Day? Why would she even want him to say that? She knew he... well, he wished her a good Valentine's Day in spirit, without him saying it. Right?

Or then again... maybe not.

"'Mione?" He began quietly. No response.

"Er…'Mione?" He tried again, louder this time. He jogged up in front of her to block her path. Suddenly, she snapped out of her trance-

"Huh?" Hermione said.

Ron felt himself take a deep breath. He realized he did feel bad about how he had been today, and for not wishing her a good Valentine's Day, if that was what she wanted. Lavender, well, he couldn't bring himself to care enough to resolve that one tonight, but no matter how ticked off he was at Hermione… He tried to steady his voice as he said, hesitantly, "Sor- sorry." The words felt so unfamiliar on his lips that saying them was like piecing together a strange puzzle.

"Huh?" responded Hermione again, rather confused. "Sorry? Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything wrong; you have no need to be sorry-"

Ron rolled his eyes and looked at her, suddenly feeling very awkward. "That's why you were mad at me right? Because I didn't wish you a good St. Valentine's Day?" That was the reason wasn't it?

Isn't that just great... the time you try to go and apologize, she wasn't actually mad at you. Ron Weasley, you will never understand women.

Ron thoroughly agreed with the voice in his head. Hermione seemed to as well. Or at least, he seemed to have hit a nerve.

"Mad? Who said I was mad? I'd have to be stupid to think that something like that was worth getting upset over, and it's not very rational at all and-"

Ron turned away, mid speech. He gave up. "I don't understand you at all Hermione. One minute you're all mad at me, not telling me why, then I try to figure out why, and then I try to apologize and you tell me you aren't. I just don't even-" Ron finished, hands raised exasperatedly, with a look on his face. He couldn't explain himself at all. Couldn't she just for once quit being such a stuck up and tell him what the bloody hell she was thinking? Stop with all the crazy puzzles and metaphors. Hermione's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Er…" said Hermione, sounding unsure of herself, "but… oh! If I was mad, which I wasn't of course, I would say thank you for apologizing. It was rather nice of you." Hermione finished the last part quietly.

Ron felt his heart pick up a few million beats. Did he? Did she? He understood completely what she was saying. He found himself thinking that maybe she ought to talk in opposite statements like that more often. "Really? Would you? I mean- you would?" He began excitedly, but quickly masked his excitement. This was the first time in months she had said something that nice to him… well, sort of said to him, anyway. Hermione, however, had already gone back to her customary state of annoyance she seemed to be assuming whenever she was with him.

"Yes, I might say something like that. Now come on, or we'll be getting absolutely no sleep tonight, and I have an Arithmancy exam tomorrow."

Ron began to walk once again with Hermione. Something was still hanging in the air. Something that was playing with his heart. Suddenly he struck upon it, and burst out,

"Why'd it bother you?"

"Huh?"

He obviously needed to clarify a statement like that. But how?

Don't mess this up, Ron. Don't. Talk slowly.

"I mean, um, don't get mad-- but why did you want me to say Happy Valentine's Day to you?" Ron tried as slowly, clearly, and politely as he could manage. He heart seemed to stop. This was it. If she could just finally admit to him-

What do you want her to admit? You can't even bring yourself to understand it...

"Well, considering you're a good friend of mine, I felt it was at least courteous for you to remember the holiday." Hermione started.

Ron had been expecting an answer like that. But he had been hoping for another. But he couldn't stop himself from feeling slightly hurt when she had said it out loud. Reaffirming the whole… 'we are just friends' thing.

Why would we not be just friends? I am dating another girl right now.

Even as the voice of reason commented on the situation, he wished that maybe, just for one second, Valentine's Day luck would help him out. Throw him a bone. Shoot her with love's arrow. Anything.

Obviously not.

"Why?" she burst out suddenly, and happily. Ron shot her a confused look, and she suddenly changed her pitch. "I mean, why- did you think it bothered me?"

Ron stopped walking. Oh no. Answering these types of questions is dangerous...

Speak carefully, Ron!

And so, he started stuttering out every word of denial that came to his mind.

Ughhhh.

"I just- you usually take off points- and maybe- but I guessyouwerejust being nice- but don't take that the wrong way-I just-"

Ron stopped. She looked hurt now. Which was what always happened.

Ahhhhh. This is getting ridiculous. We play each other to a point, but then neither of us are brave enough take it to the next step and be honest. Neither of us wants to be the one to ruin our friendship...

They had reached the common room entrance. Things were just as awkward and quiet as they were when they had left. Hermione looked as though she was ready to kill him, and Ron couldn't get away from this disaster of a day fast enough. He whispered the password quietly, and hurriedly crawled through the portrait hole. He walked over to the nightstand where he had placed his books and broom before he had fallen asleep.

And that was when he made the mistake. He cast one final glance at Hermione. She was almost over to the staircase now. And she looked like she was ready to cry. His stomach clenched angrily, mad at himself for making her feel that way, and mad at her for testing him with this stupid holiday. The dream flashed before his eyes. He could see himself this time, the expression on his face as he watched Hermione about to be-- he couldn't even think it. He quickly shook his head and ran over, barricading the girls' staircase with his body.

"You're mad at me again?" Ron asked... he didn't know what to say. He couldn't apologize again, that had gone quite awfully last time. But he had to try... something.

"No... I'm not." Hermione said through clenched teeth. Her face looked sad and tired. And so Ron gave up. He couldn't do anything else. He couldn't handle all this emotion. His normal style of 'avoiding the issue' wasn't working tonight, and neither was his new, "try and fix the issue' approach. And that left him… out of ideas.

"Well... if you aren't mad..." he began, turning his body away from her, ready to forget this night with a nice twelve hour slumber.

Suddenly, he felt a warm hand holding his arm back. He felt a shock run through his arm, and he quickly spun back around to face her. She was blushing. He could feel his face grow hot.

Just from her grabbing my wrist? I must be mental.

"You…er…it's just…you… still… still never wished me a Happy Valentine's Day?" Hermione finished it as a question. Which left him with a question. Or lots of questions. Mostly of them beginning and ending with Hermione's new favorite word today.

HUH?

He knew she could jinx him into next Christmas if she was mad enough at him. But he had to make her understand. If he couldn't explain himself with words, he would just have to try another way to show his sincerity. He noticed as Hermione dropped his, trying to be casual about the contact. But he had caught on. Physical contact seemed to work with women. Look at Lavender.

No, don't think of Lavender now. Think of Hermione.

It was impulsive, he knew. He reached up and used both of his hands to grasp her shoulders. His father had always done that when he needed to convey something important. And he needed to. So, in an act of all out bravery in his mind, he placed and kept his hands there and looked directly into her eyes.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Hermione." Ron said, carefully.

This is it; she's going to kill me. It's a good thing I don't actually own anything, because I never had a chance to tell Harry to take it all. Wouldn't want Fred and George to get everything…

"and... um... a very Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Ron." Hermione added, breaking his train of thought. Her tone of voice, Ron decided, was the sweetest tone he had ever heard her talk in. Suddenly his heart sped up as he looked at her face. Normally, Hermione gave him an expression of cold intensity, one he didn't want to meet directly. Here she was though... shocked and blushing. She looked... absolutely beautiful. Almost nervous, and it barely registered but... did she glance at his lips? His brain wasn't thinking anymore. She looked radiant with the fire glowing behind her.

She also looked rather uncomfortable.

Ron shook his head to free himself of the thoughts he was having. He had a girlfriend. Hermione didn't like him. She liked big tough experienced men, like Krum and McLaggen…

Ron almost choked on the thought.

And that's when he looked at his hands, only to notice they were still placed on her shoulders. He quickly let go, scared of what she might say or think if she left them there. He stared at her. He had no idea what to do.

Luckily for Ron, it was Hermione who broke the silence.

"Ron, I definitely don't—" she paused, nodding her head slowly to him. Ron listened closely, feeling his own eyes widen in sudden realization of what she was saying, "but if I did want to thank you for doing patrols and wishing me a happy Valentine's Day right now…I would probably not have any idea what to say, or where to begin. So I would probably just run off to bed and give you a quick hug-"

Ron didn't even give her the chance to finish. He had been waiting for this invitation. He stepped forward and moved his arms around her body. Pleasure and warmth shot through his body for the first time all day, and the feeling almost made him almost jump back. He let go quickly, as soon as he felt her loosening the hug. No need to ruin it by clinging onto her.

Even if I want to just hold her...

Her warm brown eyes held his for a split second. Ron barely noticed. He was still reeling from shock, as he stepped aside from the staircase. It was just a hug. Why on Earth did he feel... like that? He had snogged Lavender until he couldn't breathe, and on occasion had done a bit… more. But never, ever, had he received the shock he had felt from that simple, brief, innocent contact he had just had with Hermione.

The same Hermione who was running up the staircase now. They had been so awkwardly on edge since the whole Lavender thing. Well, before then too, but now it was... like they both expected something from each other. He had never liked Lavender at all... actually...she was just a pretty distraction to get him to stop thinking about the fact that Hermione didn't like him… and come to think of it...

I only went out with her because I was so ticked off at Hermione.

So jealous of Hermione.

So... in love with Hermione?

Ron cleared his throat, an idea popping into his brain. "'Mione?" He said shakily, quietly. He tried again, this time calling up his normal tone.

"Hermione?

"Yes, well, what it is Ron?" she answered, sounding rather annoyed at having to be bothering with him again this late.

"Sorry, it's just that, um, can I do the patrols tomorrow night?" he asked quickly. He breathed in and out slowly, trying not to let his heart spin him out of control.

"Well of course you can do them. They are part of your duties as a prefect, you have to do them, you don't need to ask-"

"No,-" said Ron very quickly, cutting off her rant.

Damn it, Ron, explain yourself better than that!

"-I meant, with you." he added emphasis to the last word. If this wasn't going to work, he didn't want to regret not having tried.

Suddenly he heard her voice, although he could almost not believe it... "Of...of course you can. Now… go to sleep Ron." He heard the door click shut. Ron felt his brain go crazy.

Yes. Yes. She said yes. I mean you technically didn't ask her out or anything, so it's really no big deal, but maybe... on these patrols... maybe we can finally... Finally do what, exactly? You have a girlfriend…

Ron gathered up his things and descended down into his dormitory. He thought back over the recent events, almost confused. Why could he suddenly not stop thinking of her? Hermione's hurt, sad image had been replaced. Now, the one of her eyes looking into his, her beautiful curly hair glowing, and her face flushed with a strange mixed expression of surprise and sadness and exuberance took its place. But why did these images keep filling his mind? He had seen Hermione on a regular basis all his life. He had always thought she was very pretty, but why was this image now keeping him awake?

You know why, you git.

Because you wanted to kiss her back there.

And you know she wanted you to do it as well.