AN: Thank you everyone for your lovely reviews on Petal Picking. Hearing that you all enjoyed it so much really motivated me to finish this little piece. I'm now considering making it a series so let me know what you think! Also big thanks to Rinny for helping me with Ron (the tricky little bugger) and glancing over it for me. Lots of Hugs!

Chicken

I look up from my third helping of dinner when the Ravenclaws in Hermione's Athrimancy class walk in. Quickly, I scan the group for a head of brown curls.

"Harry?"

Harry looks over.

"Do you see Hermione?"

Harry, too, looks over to the door to the great hall.

"No, she probably stayed back to clarify a few things. You know how she is."

"Of course. Sure."

I however, drop my fork and continue to peruse the entrance and then look over to the Ravenclaw table hoping to spot her talking to a fellow classmate. She is not there either. I frown.

"Professor Vector is back. She's sitting at the staff table."

Harry, with a bit of kidney hanging from his mouth, looks to the staff table.

"Maybe she wasn't hungry."

My frown deepens as I look back to my plate and begin to push my food around.

"Why don't you save her some food and go find her."

My head jerks up at Harry's smirk.

"I….um…well…I guess…I could…"

Harry takes a napkin and places a few rolls and some pieces of chicken in it, wraps it up and hands it over to halt my stuttering. Considering the bundle, I stare at it a moment then tuck it away in my pocket.

"Do you reckon she could still be upset about Malfoy?"

Harry ponders the question the moment then shrugs his shoulders.

"Maybe. She didn't seem upset this afternoon. You said it yourself. She has skin as thick of dragon. She's practically a boy!"

I cringe.

"I should go find her."

Harry's face once again forms a satisfied smirk. I wish I knew what that smirk meant. Its constant presence is beginning to infuriate me.

"Well, see you later, in the common room?"

Absentmindedly, I nod my head and stalk out of the great hall. Once I reach the hall, I halt suddenly, expecting Hermione to be standing there. She isn't of course. Bugger. Now, I actually have to go search for her. This is going to require some thought.

My first impulse leads me to the library. More often than not Hermione has skipped a meal in her fervor to finish whatever her project of the week is. The library, during dinner, is empty even of Madam Pince. Damn. There goes my one and only idea. If I were Hermione where would I be?

Well, I am sure that I don't know. It's scary enough at times being in her presence, let alone her head. Why would I want to go there? Like an oaf or Crabbe I stand outside the library. I should just start scratching my head and shrieking like an ape, because about now I feel like one. How could I not know where my best friend would go instead of to dinner?

Then it hits me! I can cheat! Breaking into a run I rush back to the tower, up to my dorm and fall in front of Harry's trunk. Without a thought or any remorse I dig through it. Out come socks and boxer shorts and rumpled shirts…and a crumpled, much-worn picture that looks suspiciously like my baby sister. I shake my head and decide to ignore it. Finally near the bottom, under his invisibility cloak, is the Marauder's Map. Merlin, this thing is a life saver. Now, all I have to do is take a quick peak and my quest is over. And I can get the lukewarm chicken out of my pocket. The smell is making me hungry again. I never really did finish my dinner. Without thinking, I pull out one of the chicken legs and begin to gnaw on it.

While enjoying my snack I glance over the map. Hermione is not in the library. Well, that I knew. She is not in the great hall. Good to know. She is not in castle actually. That is a bit shocking. It's too cold to be outside unless you're playing Quidditch. My head whips back to the map. No, she's not the pitch. At least the world is still spinning.

Finishing the first chicken bone, I pull out the second. Ah ha! There is a little dot hovering near the lake that reads Hermione Granger. Why would she be daft enough to be sitting on a freezing Friday night out at the lake? I guess her skin isn't a tough as Fred and George's awful new dragon hide clothes.

I stuff the map in the pocket that once held the food. Oops. I'll have to take her down to the kitchens later. It'll be alright though, because I will need a snack by then. I grab my cloak and shrug it on then make my way outside.

I reach the lake quickly. My long legs coupled with the need to get Hermione and in from the cold urge me forward faster than my normal gait. The sight of her however, hunched over and shaking almost bowls me over. Regaining my footing, I close the space between us. She doesn't look up. She doesn't move beyond the heaving of her shoulders. Bloody hell! She's not so much cold as crying. Cold I could have dealt with. Tears are a much trickier business. Deciding to deal with the cold anyway—she must have been out here for a couple hours now—I drop my cloak on her shoulders then sit next to her. Now I'm cold, so I sit close to her trying to gain some of my warmth back. All I get though is a whiff of her hair and salty tears. Expertly, I ignore the flip-flop my stomach does.

"Hermione, why are you out here? It's freezing."

Now that I'm sitting next to her I see the white petals on the ground. The half picked daisy. When did daisies grow here in the winter? When did they grow near the lake period? There are crumpled tissues, too. My eyes turn to her puffy and red eyes. I feel a pain my heart. She tries to turn her head from me, embarrassed, but I reach up gently so as not to startle her and wipe away the tears still falling down her cheeks.

"What's wrong," I whisper. "Is it what Malfoy said today?"

"No."

I wish I could tell if she was lying. I settle for stroking my thumb back and forth across her splotchy cheeks. It always made me feel better when Mum would do this for me so I figure it would work on Hermione. I should probably also say something reassuring. It was a lot easier earlier today when I thought she was a boy.

"Oh, well good, because you shouldn't listen to him. Harry and I would never let anything happen to you."

"I can take care of myself. I am the cleverest witch of our generation!"

Whoa, I don't think I have ever seen her this hysterical. Not even back in third year when I accused her of killing my rat. I mean her cat of killing my rat. Or in fourth year when she was so adamant that Harry and I resolve our issues. But it's the desperation and despair that eats at me. I hope I didn't do anything to put her here. Trying desperately to make it better, I attempt to pull her to me. Stubborn as she is, Hermione won't let me.

"Tell me what's wrong."

She ignores my question.

"How did you find me?

I hold up the Marauder's Map and she nods at me. Again I try to pull her to me and this time she lets me. I can feel her capitulation like the physical destruction of a wall. What happened that has so bruised her?

"Hermione, please, what are you doing out here?"

"Playing childhood games."

I look at the petals again.

"What game?"

"It's a Muggle thing. You wouldn't understand."

I pull her tighter to me. Maybe if I can keep her talking we could get in from the cold.

"Indulge me."

Further trying to pull her out of her shell I take my hand and rhythmically brush my thumb across the back of it. It must have worked because she keeps speaking.

"Little Muggle girls, just like young witches, are very whimsical. When they like a boy they will often take a flower pull the petals off."

I always knew Muggles were nutters.

"Why would they do a mental thing like that?"

"Don't interrupt."

There's my Mione. Wait! Mione! Where did that come from? She's still explaining however, and I end my inner dialogue to catch up.

"As she pulls the petals off she repeats he loves me, he loves me not until she gets to the last petal. Whichever she says on the last petal is what she believes is true."

Oh. That sounds like something Ginny would have done over Harry when she was eleven. Then I remember the picture in Harry's trunk and I swiftly turn my head to the ground to banish the thought of my little sister and best friend. On the ground, I once again see the flower petals. Wait! Petals? Plucked flower? Hermione loves someone! I quickly count the number of petals lying lonely and run through the rhyme. She was on he loves me. But who? Think, Ron! Think!

I think I must be dying because my life begins to flash before my eyes.

Hermione on the train.

Hermione petrified. I was at such a loss while she was comatose. If Dumbledore hadn't canceled our end of the year exams I would have failed. I hadn't done any homework in months.

Hermione throwing herself at me in third year. At the time, I squashed the contentment I felt holding her in my arms and awkwardly tried to calm her tears. Then I pushed her away and convinced myself that she was still bossy Hermione who was always level headed, who never showed emotion because it wasn't practical.

Hermione in fourth year spending time with me and giving me small, private smiles. Saying no to going with me to the Yule Ball. While I did not know it at the time, it was more than just disappointment that I felt. It was rejection. And I never wanted to feel it again so I pushed my feelings further down and channeled them into hating Krum

Hermione in fifth year and the dance we did around each other. Hermione lying deathly still at the Department of Mysteries and afterwards bandaged and in pain. I still wake up in a cold sweat some nights and have to stop myself from sneaking to her dorm and reassuring myself she is still alive.

Hermione here before me. Her heart broken and lying before me as petals plucked from a wayward daisy. I know I am thick but how could I have been so blind? To her? To myself? I make a decision and feel a fire kindle in my heart and work its way to blaze in my eyes. I pull her so close that she is in my lap now. I don't even notice the cold anymore but just the heat of her in my lap. I take her other hand and say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Hermione, he loves you."

The hope swimming in her eyes blooms into recognition, then pure joy. More tears begin to fall down her face but through them she laughs. I can't help but laugh as well; it's better than blubbering like a baby to release all the emotions.

"I thought you thought I was a boy."

I groan. Only Hermione would bring that up at a moment like this. I rest my forehead against hers.

"I lied."

"Ron, you shouldn't lie."

I kiss her. It's sloppy and very wet. We have trouble getting around our noses and trying to find where to put our lips. Not at all like the dashing, breath-taking experience I expected it to be. But it's our first so it is perfect. Plus, it shuts her up.

"Ron…"

"Hermione, no more admonishments. I'm trying to sweep your off your feet here."

"We're sitting down."

I chuckle, huskily.

"My sweet, rational Hermione who spent her entire day sitting outside mangling a defenseless flower, I have just admitted to myself and you that I'm crazy about you indulge me a little."

She smiles and gives me a quick peck on the corner of my mouth.

"It has been a day for indulgences."

She leans in again to kiss me, but I don't let her get too far. Her face falls, and she looks hurt. I rush to explain.

"We need to go inside to continue this. You have my cloak, and I'm freezing."

"Oh!"

She jumps up and attempts to wrap my cloak back around me needs a little help in settling it around my shoulders. I pick up her bag for her and she puts her books away. Finally, I offer my arm and with an adoring grin on her face she takes it and snuggles into my side. We walk back in silence until we reach the great hall and my stomach grumbles. Then I remember the chicken.

"Oy! I forgot. Harry and I saved you some chicken and biscuits from dinner."

"Thank you! I've only just realized how hungry I am."

I begin to steer her down to the corridor with the fruit painting. I pull out the empty napkin with a few biscuit crumbs in it. When did I finish the other chicken leg and the biscuits?

"Well, see the thing is…I already ate them."

She glances up at me, incredulous.

"Ron!"

"Sorry, Mione, but I got hungry looking for you. I had to walk all over the castle. And it was in my pocket and smelled so good…"

I peak over at her waiting for another lecture. She isn't frowning or even gearing up for a good tongue lashing. She has the most radiant smile on her face, and she reaches over to grab my other hand. We stop in the middle of the hall, a couple portraits down from the entrance to the kitchens.

"You called me Mione."

"Yea, um…sorry about that."

"No, I like it."

Her grin becomes infectious, and I know I'm standing there smiling like an idiot. I can't help it though. She inspires goofiness in me. Without warning, I swoop in for a kiss. She responds, and I can tell that practice makes perfect because our second kiss is much better than the first. I even manage to not stab her with my nose! Thank Merlin, Hermione enjoys studying so much. We'll get this kissing thing down in no time.

"Well, I like you."

And my sappiness continues as I spout confessions of like. To keep her from noticing the red inching up my ears I pull her in for another kiss. I'm so glad Fred and George left school last year. That and Harry's not around. Oh…Harry…I pull away from the kiss.

"Ron? What's wrong?"

"Harry."

She frantically looks around and drops my hands.

"Is he here? Is he in trouble?"

"No. I'm just…Well, I…"

Bright as she is, Hermione instantly gets what I am trying to say and indulgently smiles at me.

"You're worried about how he's going to take us."

I nod.

"Well, why don't we tell him and find out."

I gulp.

"Ok. But first, while we're here and all, I think we should get you some dinner."

I try bringing it up as nonchalantly as possible, but she sees right through me.

"How can you possibly still be hungry?"

I shrug and reach out to tickle the pear.

"I'm a growing boy, and I need nourishment. Plus, I still think you need something to eat."

"Ok. But then we go talk to Harry. He's our best friend—we can't lie to him."

Begrudgingly, I agree. However I plan on standing behind Hermione when we tell him. I don't fancy having to defend myself when I tell Harry that I've been kissing the girl he considers a sister. Maybe I can bring up the picture in his trunk…