Hi all! I don't own anything.

This is completely AU occuring sometime after fourth year or so. Just something silly I could not stop thinking about. Enjoy.

It all started, rather appropriately, with a lot of staring and very little action. Harry was staring at Ron, marveling at just how obvious he was being at staring at Hermione who, for her part, was rather intensely staring at her books investigating the importance of cauldren insurance or some other such nonsense a good distance across the common room. There was a variety of reasons Harry brought topic up, not the least of which was the realization in Harry that perhaps it looked a bit odd for him to be staring at his friend in such a manner while that friend stared at their other friend. Perhaps is was just general curiosity, but he couldn't help but ask.

"Ron, are you by any chance in love with Hermione?" This did an absolutely fabulous job of ripping the boy's eyes from their friend and turning his facial features a ghastly shade of red.

"W-what? What are you talking about?" He tried to recover with, though his voice was a few octaves too high and he refused to make eye contact.

"Well seems to me that the only reason you'd be staring at her like that was if you wanted to snog her, am I right?" He replied.

Ron did not immediately respond, but decided instead to resume his staring. For a moment, Harry joined him, though he personally could not see the appeal. He loved her like a sister, but there was nothing inherently attractive about Hermione to him. For instance in that moment, her hair had ballooned up from its already considerable size to levels he considered reason to put the owls on alert, for fear they may get trapped inside. Coupled with the ink stains all about her person and general brotherly feelings toward her, he could not imagine her as a viable candidate for snogging.

He was not, however, Ron. When Ron looked at the same image, he saw perfection. He saw a girl that featured heavily in his dreams. The hair was not a mess but instead something he intensely wanted to run his hands through. The ink stains as adorable as the way she wrinkled her nose when she wrote stuff down or when she bites her lip when reading particularly dense material. He could waste many hours staring at this lovely visage and very often did. The answer to Harry's question was quite simple for him.

"You're crazy, mate. Of course I'm not in love with her." Of course, he would never actually answer that question truthfully aloud.

"Then-"

"I'm just watching...t-to...to make sure no one bugs her while she tries to study. You know how she can get, and that Malfoy can be a real git." He marveled at how well he could cover for himself.

"But...we're in the Gryffindor common room. How can Malfoy bug her here?"

"...You know how that greasy ferret can be..." Ron mumbled rather ineffectively, "Hey! Remember that time Moody actually turned him into a ferret? Bloody priceless that! Well, I suppose it wasn't actually Moody who turned him, but still, got to admire it! Speaking of ferrets, I have to go." He stumbled through, picking up his books as he babbled, leaving a rather bewildered Harry convinced that maybe he wasn't in love with Hermione, but certain Ron was probably losing his mind.

That had been a week before break. Everyday since then, there was a rather familiar routine set in place. Ron would spend as much time as possible- and probably more than was healthy- staring at Hermione until Harry noticed and he pointedly looked away, occasionally acting as if he was looking at something else entirely. This had to stop, however, when Peeves began getting the wrong impression about him.

It was a routine that got him thinking. He was not the most perceptive bloke in the world, he knew, but close examination of the daily events had led him to two conclusions. The first, was that Hermione had an incredible lack of attention outside of anything to do with school. Honestly, he'd managed to look at her for over an hour without a single inclination from her to suggest she had any clue it was going on. The second, was this entire thing seemed only to amuse Harry. He was not particularly bothered by his adoration of Hermione. Which either meant he believed to absolute bollucks excuses Ron had used for why he was staring at her (at one point, he recalled claiming to have fallen asleep with his eyes open) in which case the Chosen One was an idiot and they were all screwed against You-Know-Who, or he knew he was lying and absolutely head over heels for their best friend. Either way, he didn't seem like he'd be particularly upset if maybe Ron made a move.

Harry's approval was not exactly a top reason to tell her how he felt. In fact, he couldn't really ascertain why it was he thought it was an issue in the first place, but having it seemed to be motivation for him to get off his arse and do something about the situation. No, the main issue was the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that seemed to insist upon letting itself known every time he ever thought about saying something. It was the feeling that let him know just how bad it would be if she rejected him, or if he was lucky enough to have her, but then break up. It would tear their friendship apart. And what about poor Harry? He would have to be shuffled around like a child of divorced parents, the two of them trying to buy his affection and Ron was not exactly flush with galleons so Hermione would win that in the long run and he would be stuck being friends with Neville or Sheamus or someone equally horrendous.

It was the sort of feeling that made him unable to speak, for fear all the crazy would pop out at once and he would lose his shot anyway if Hermione were to be in close proximity if such an event occurred. It was the sort of feeling he could not get rid of as he and Harry boarded the train to return to the Burrow for break, found a place to sit, and awaited Hermione's arrival in the compartment. Without her there clouding his judgment he could say beyond a shadow of a doubt this would just be a terrible idea. There was too much at stake. They would remain friends.

With that, she entered the compartment and gave both boys a warm smile which Ron tried to return, but his own smile had the consistency of a man with a squirrel in his pants. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice and he was able to recover his original thought process. Remain friends....The good of the many...Too complicated. Then she did something so incredibly heinous, so impossible to resist.

"Hello Ronald."

She spoke.

Screw it. I'm going to tell her. He decided. Of course, there was one thing that was certain. He was going to need some help.

----------

Unfortunately for him, he happened to be going home for the holidays with Harry and Hermione. That meant his options would be fairly limited to his brothers and Harry. Just the idea of telling any of them made him sweat an inordinate amount and cause slight disgust in Harry who switched his seat to that beside Hermione when the sweat became unmanagable. There would be mocking, there would be laughter, and most importantly of all, there would be very little good advice.

He could wait until they returned to school, but then his resources were not much better. He recalled the night previously had not gone well for Dean and Sheamus, who were trying with much failure to pull Padma and Lavender, who seemed unable to contain their derisive laughter in the face of pick up lines involving brooms and cauldrens and the ever present "are you sure you haven't put a spell on me?" line.

No, on the whole waiting would make all this much worse. He would be in such close proximity to Hermione all week anyway, he may spill his guts on accident if he waited too long. At least this way if he was going to do it, having a properly laid out plan would give him a slightly better shot at the whole thing. So his only option was his brothers. Maybe Ginny if he was desperate, but knowing her she would blabber the whole thing to Hermione anyway.

Obviously telling his mum or dad was out of the question. The mocking was one thing, but the cooing and declarations of joy from his mum would be unbearable. As they reached his home and he unpacked his bags, only to find a rubber spider in his sheets, he knew Fred and George were a ridiculous choice as well. When he was more mature than them, they couldn't be a good choice. Percy was obviously a no, seeing as how they weren't speaking with him anyway and Charlie wouldn't be home for Christmas this year.

Then it hit him. Bill. Wonderful, marvelous older brother Bill. First in the family to get engaged, and to a Veela no less! He would know what to do. Even before he bagged Fleur the man had no trouble in the women department. There was no one better to tell him how to win over Hermione. It was a satisfying thought that kept him up in anticipation for his return home the following day.

The next problem after that was actually getting him alone. After a good hour of evaluation from their mum on his weight, his hair, his job, his fiance, and every single second of his life since the last time she saw him, Bill was fairly preoccupied with Fleur and chatting with the whole family and Harry and Hermione. Ron felt like the petulant younger sibling trying to get the older brother's attention and failing rather miserably.

He decided he would jump him. Perched on the steps, he would grab him as he tried to move upstairs and talk to him in private finally. Of course, for the first hour or so, no one did actually come. He was about to abandon the cause when he heard footsteps, and quickly grabbed the person. Without so much as a glance their direction he headed upstairs and turned around to see a bewildered Harry behind him.

"Ron, what are you doing?" He asked.

"Argh. I wasn't trying to take you up here." Ron sighed. Harry took a quick glance around and saw they were in Ron's room.

"Were you maybe trying to take Hermione up here?" He asked cheekily.

"What?" Ron asked, shocked, then angrily, "Don't be a git."

"Come on, mate, just admit you fancy her!"

"I was trying to!" He exclaimed.

"So you admit it!"

"Of course I do you ignorant sod I just said I did!" But Harry was not listening. He was doing a celebratory dance of victory in his head.

"This is brilliant. I knew it!"

"Shut it!"

"You were going to tell her now?"

"No, I was going to tell Bill."

"Why him?"

"I thought he could give me some advice on how to tell her."

"Wait right here."

Harry quickly left the room with far too much spring in his step, leaving Ron feeling rather strange. Harry knew now. And had taken it well. A little toowell if anything. Of course, he wasn't aware of the heady debate that was "Ron and Hermione" in the Weasley household. He wasn't aware of the years spent between each family member declaring how obvious their affection was to one another. The years declaring it all a lost cause because the two of them were so clueless. He wasn't aware that the moment Harry sprinted out of the room back to the bottom floor he shouted for all the room to hear:

"Dear Merlin it's finally happened. He's become self aware!"

It took little more than that for chatter to erupt in the room, the only exceptions being a confused Fluer, who was too new in the family to know what they were talking about, and Hermione, who was equally confused, but torn between finding out what all the commotion was about and continuing her reading on Arithmancy. Luckily for the room, books always won out, and they were able to reestablish control before she realized they were talking about her. Harry motioned for Bill, and without hesitation he, Fred and George joined Harry in Ron's room.

"Bloody hell Harry? Did you send an owl out to the whole block too?"

"Calm down little brother," Fred soothed.

"We are here to help." George added.

"So you're finally going to tell Hermione how you feel?" Bill asked.

"Finally? I've only just now started having feelings for her."

"Right." The four boys doubtfully said in unison.

"Are you going to help or not?" Ron asked testily.

"Alright, alright. Calm down. We need to start brainstorming." Bill replied.

"Think this whole thing out." George assented.

"Strategize." Fred confirmed. There was a long pause as they all thought about it.

"Couldn't he just....tell her?" Harry pointed out rather obviously. In unison, the Weasley boys, including even Ron, laughed at the poor boy.

"Harry, mate, no offense but don't you think if you were any help on the matter I'd have asked you how to tell her and not these guys?" Ron pointed out to Harry.

"Yeah, didn't you make Cho Chang cry when you first kissed?" Fred asked through giggles.

Normally, the moody boy he was, Harry would have blown up at the boys, possibly even launching a few spells their way. However this time he merely smiled and backed out of the room in what looked like defeat. In reality, he was slinking off to Ginny's room for an impromptu make out session with his secret girlfriend. Though Ron, had he been paying attention to anything besides the back of Hermione's head, would have been able to tell they had been dating for quite some time, as it was, none of her brothers had realized the two of them had been dating. Frankly, despite the mocking of his normally tragic love life, he was all too happy to have the Weasley family living in ignorant bliss on the matter. Unfortunately, this particular make out session was cut short when Ginny asked mid-kiss:

"What are you thinking about?" To which he replied without thought:

"Your brothers." and was rather forcefully kicked out of the room and, given no other option, returned to the brainstorming session in progress.

"...You've got to show her who's boss straightaway." Was the gem of advice he found Bill spewing upon his return, "Take her in your arms and just show her how you feel."

"I don't know," Ron mulled it over, "Is that really the right tactic with Hermione? I don't think-"

"Look, trust me on this. Girls love it when you take control," Bill assured him, "No matter how she may act on the outside." Looking around the room Ron was met with nodding heads of approval, save Harry, who seemed to be shaking his head rather vigorously the other direction.

"Alright, I'll do it!" Ron agreed and left the room with confidence.

Though Harry could not imagine this possibly going well, the three Weasley's seemed quite proud of themselves so he allowed them to pat themselves on the back. Of course as far as Harry knew, combined, Fred and George had one second date in their lives; a stat they were quite boisterous about but which Harry suspected was not their deciding, but rather the girl's. Then there was Bill, who did in fact have a Veela fiance, but who also spent most of his time bending over to her beck and call. He was hardly the one in control. Rather than point this out to anyone, however, Harry found it much more entertaining to watch Ron work along with the rest of the boys.

The first time Ron ran into Hermione, almost immediately and just outside his room he was so shocked he could not actually speak, let alone confess a life-long love. Whether it was nerves or just a genuine surprise to find Hermione in his home, despite the fact that he had invited her, been there for over a week, and spoken to her already three times that day (it wasn't even after noon yet) was unclear, but regardless he could not say a word. In fact all he could do was stare, moving his mouth a bit like a fish and darting his eyes around the room, leaving Hermione a bit confused as she walked away.

On his way to the kitchen, a whole twenty seconds later he was once again shocked to find Hermione there. Again, he was off his considerably abysmal game, but was at least able to recover enough to send a smile her way, which she returned. Unfortunately, he did not really have a plan further than that. Panicking, Ron wanted to make sure she pictured him as a man in charge, a man who knew what he wanted.

"Hey Hermione?" He managed with as much authority as possible.

"Yes, Ron?" She replied. He was, however, not a man with a plan.

"What?"

"I don't know. You were going to ask me something..." She offered.

Short of a long list of curse words, Ron's mind went blank. He could not remember asking her a question, let alone what the question was. Were he on the top of his game, and not trying to do something as difficult as talk to a girl he fancied, he may have been able to come up with a question. A simple "How are you?" would have sufficed. Even "I'm sorry I lost my train of thought, may I get back to you later?" would do.

"No, I didn't." would not.

"Yes. You did."

"No, I think you have things mixed up here, Hermione. Weren't you going to ask me something?"

"No..."

"Yes..."

"Are we done here?" Hermione sighed.

"I don't even see why you're still standing here."

"Because you're blocking the doorway."

"Oh..."

Moving out of the way of the door Ron hoped he was not red enough to cause alarm in anyone. Then of course he realized that, aside from himself and Hermione, his siblings and Harry were the only ones there and even if it was an emergency, they would probably take plenty of photographs before doing anything to help him anyway.

The rest of his day followed the same track. Every now and then he would either pluck up the courage to sidle up to Hermione or accidentally run into her and disaster would ensue. Sometimes it would be the locale that bothered him- beside the bathroom just as she exited was probably not the most romantic of places. Other times, it was the mood of the room- he came close once to saying something beyond "Hello" when Fred and George burst into the room and immediately pantsed him and he was forced to exit, trousers around his ankles, from the room. Though they later claimed they weren't aware Hermione was present, the twins were anything but sympathetic and in fact insisted they were saving him from saying something stupid. Though it was probably true, Ron made a mental note to kill them later.

Though these were issues that impeded him from doing anything to get Hermione's attention and telling her how he felt, it was in fact Ron's own brain that stopped him from doing what he planned. He just could not find it in himself to do something. He was scared, he knew. Scared of rejection, scared of ruining their friendship, and most of all scared of just how strong he felt about her. It was that reason that had him standing just outside the room, watching Hermione reading beside the fireplace. The amount of time spent in that same spot was not measured, though if asked the four boys who were sitting on the steps beside Ron waiting for him to do something would say a bloody long time, but eventually, Ron braced himself and entered the room.

"Er..Hermione?"

"Yes, Ronald?" She replied in a completely disinterested, totally engrossed in her book tone.

For a normal person, complete disinterest among another person would deter further action. Ron was proud to say he was no normal boy. If anything he gained confidence ill fitting his situation and with some force, wrenched the book from Hermione's hands and tossed it aside, just barely missing the fireplace. In an instant Hermione was up, but before Ron could wrap his arms around her waist and plant a kiss that would make her swoon in his arms on her lips she was, much more realistically, screaming.

"What on earth is wrong with you Ron?!"

Flustered, Ron decided to skip the whole kiss and go directly to the speech he had prepared in his mind. The one that told her about how long he's pined for her, about how he could contain his love no longer and had to let her know how he felt. He quoted poetry. It was quite a lovely speech actually.

"Er, I, Uh" Unfortunately the unbridled terror of an angry Hermione left him without words.

"Ron, that is a very valuable book you nearly chucked into the fire. I cannot believe you would be so uncaring about someone else's property!"

"I, er-"

"Well what was so important that you had to destroy books to get my attention?"

Ron continued to emit sounds from the throat that vaguely sounded like words, but concentrated most of his energy on slowing backing out of the room as Hermione continued to give him a death glare, hand twitching a little too closely at her wand. Once out of the room, he heard the laughter from the stairs and felt himself go even redder. Of course, Bill, Fred, George, and Harry sat in heaps on the steps, extendable ears in hand relishing in his failure.

"Sod off you gits!" Ron declared as he moved quickly up the stairs and back to his room to die.

"No, come on now," Fred soothed.

"Just means we have to go to plan B." George pointed out.

"And that we're all plenty sure who's going to be wearing the pants in the relationship," Harry could not help but point out.

"Anyway," Bill intervened before Ron could throttle Harry, "We were thinking maybe a gift might persuade her to your arms and such."

"Merlin knows it won't be your charm..." Fred decided to offer.

"Or looks..." George added.

"Or personality..."

"Or smell..."

After another fifteen minutes of this, Ron had no option but to also point out that he also didn't have any money to pay for such a gift. Without hesitation, however, Fred and George offered to front him some galleons. They claimed it was to help him bag his future wife and out of brotherly affection, but Ron doubted that was truly the case. However, he was in fact out of money and did think there was a good chance a gift would help the matter so, feeling rather like a man signing a deal with the devil, Ron accepted their money and went off to buy a gift.

After hours of searching though, he realized that he knew far too little about gift giving. Sugar quills, though he knew her favorite flavor, did not scream romance, nor did the countless books he knew she had her eye on which all seemed to feature the word dismemberment in it somewhere. Jewelry he knew was not right, he remembered her saying something about not liking necklaces and such trinkets. Chocolates were not her favorite type of candy, it would seem too generic to give her that. So instead of getting her something that wasn't absolutely perfect, he slumped down on the streets of Diagon alley, wanting Firewhiskey more than anything in the world. Not long after that, he was joined by Harry, who put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

"No luck then?"

"Nothing seems right! What do you suppose I do?"

"Mate, I've seen you go into every store here, you still couldn't find anything?"

"I guess I don't know her as well as I thought I did..."

"You know that's not true. You know her favorite candy, all the books she wants, you know more about her than I do! That doesn't come from nowhere." Harry reassured him.

"No," Ron said, still dejected, "It comes from years of friendship. Maybe that was all this was meant to be."

Before Harry could convince him otherwise, Ron rose to return home, no fancy gift in hand, but instead the overwhelming melancholy that came with realizing perhaps the love of your life just doesn't think you are the love of theirs. If that was the case, Ron decided, he would still rather be friends with Hermione than nothing at all. So when he arrived home, he slumped himself into the couch beside Hermione as she wrote something on a long piece of parchment. Though he greeted her, she did not lift her eyes from the paper. Ron closed his eyes and sat, listening only to the sound of her quill scratching on her parchment. If this was all friendship was, he could live with it....

...Of course, the sound of her quill was getting quite loud...

...In fact, it sounded like she was tearing the paper with each move...

...If he wasn't mistaken, that was the sound of a quill being crushed in someone's hands...

"Dear Merlin Ron would you just do it already!" Hermione suddenly shouted, surprising the boy.

"Hermione, wha-"

"I have been waiting all bloody day for you to say something to me and you are just going to sit here silently?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're in love with me!"

"How did you know?!"

"Ginny heard you and the rest of your brothers talking about your plans earlier."

"Ginny told you?" He knew she would find a way to blabber about it!

"Well, not exactly, she was mumbling something about Harry fancying your brothers more than he fancies her under her breath-"

"I do not!"

"-And the rest sort of slipped out. I may have overheard. That's not the point! The point is-"

"You were waiting for me to tell you? Does that mean you wanted me to tell you?"

The room went silent. There were several reasons for the silence. It was a silence of three Weasley brothers putting two and two together and realizing that sneaky git Harry Potter was secretly dating their sister...or in love with them... in either case not a good thing. It was the silence of Harry trying to escape the room of older and stronger brothers and hoping vaguely that it was really Neville all along who was meant to be the Chosen One because he was not going to live past this night to fight Voldemort. It was the silence of Ginny, Arthur, and Molly coming home from shopping at the best and worst moment, depending on who you asked, and finding this scene before them. Most importantly of all, however, it was the silence of two people realizing they were in love and, wonderfully, with each other.

Years later it would be described by all members of the family as "One hell of a first kiss" to anyone who asked. Of course, most people who received the story of how Ron and Hermione first got together were not actually asking about that. Usually this story came as a response to one of two questions. The first, and more common being, "Why is Ron naked atop the roof?" The answer to this question, luckily, is found in the second question which was, "Why is it a bad idea to accept money from Fred and George?"

It was also the story Ron always fondly thought of as he sat atop the roof, completely starkers waving to anyone who happened to pass by the Burrow. Sure, he knew it was a bad idea accepting the money for the gift from Fred and George and not expect some sort of retribution such as this. Sure, it was completely ridiculous for them to force him to sit atop the roof once a year every year for every galleon they gave him. Sure, he hadn't even used the money to buy a gift that day. Still, Ron did not mind because he knew the moment he stepped back into the house his lovely wife Hermione would be waiting for him with clothing and another hell of a kiss.

Comments? Suggestions? Review!