You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This, a harry potter fanfic

You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This

Author's Note: Other updates are coming, I promise. But I had to get this plot bunny out of my head. I heard this song weeks ago and thought it'd make the sweetest Ron/Hermione fic. It didn't work that well as a song fic; it was much better of as an "inspired by this song" but what can you do, right? Right. The song is Toby Keith, "You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This." Ballady and sweet; not his usually upbeat comedy. I think Toby fits Ron particularly well. Unbeta-ed and written in two nights.

By the way, this fic is unfortunately HBP compliant. Which means ships include Remus/Tonks and Bill/Fleur--ew. ew. ew. And, biggest ew of all, slight Harry/Ginny.

But enjoy anyway.

The ceremony had ended and it seemed the reception would never end, though hardly a person seemed to mind that. The food was delicious, above and beyond even the best that the red-haired matron had ever done before. Harry grinned and danced with a pretty cousin of Ron's who he'd met only an hour ago. Fred and George had arrived with Angelina and Katie on their arms. Charlie was chatting with a friend of Bill's; a curse-breaker named Lucinda. Even Percy looked like he was at least attempting to have a good time. And Bill?

Bill only had eyes for his bride.

Harry was not exactly light-footed on the makeshift dance floor that had been put up on the Weasleys' lawn, but after half a dozen songs with nearly as many partners, he was getting better. He had spent for weeks confined at the Dursleys; this was partly by his choice. Even more than knowing that Dumbledore had it in mind, he knew that he needed time to catch up on reading his spells and curses and counter-curses. He needed time to plot out his course of action. He glanced at Ron and Hermione, speaking with Ginny.

Ginny was tending to the youngest guests at the wedding, keeping an eye and often a hand on anyone under three foot tall or five years old. An aunt had offered to relieve her earlier so that she and Harry might dance. They looked at one another and an uneasy moment settled. And it passed. Ginny had shook her head demurely and remarked that her feet were killing her from the shoes Fleur had insisted she wear for wedding. She couldn't possibly dance.

Harry knew it was for the best. He'd been at the Burrow only a few days and would be leaving in the morning. Without her. He couldn't take her. The separation was for the best. Attachment would fade and had already begun in the month he spent preparing for his quest, for want of a better word. As always, Ron and Hermione would be by his side when he left. He couldn't keep them away if he tried, and he had no desire to try. For the moment, all he could do was enjoy the party as best he could.

Hermione and Ron left the Ginny with the children and sat at one of the many mismatched tables.

"Harry looks like he's having fun."

"Well, he deserves it, doesn't he? This isn't going to be easy, you know." A worry line crossed her face.

"Worrying about it won't make it any easier. Remember, Harry told us to enjoy ourselves tonight and face the world tomorrow. He's doing a fair job of it," Ron remarked. He watched Priscella—about six years older than himself and not particularly good looking—dancing with Harry. Harry seemed pleased. Anything to forget the coming hunt, just for a little while.

The worry line didn't disappear.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Alright. Get up."

"Excuse me?"

He stood up and looked down at her. "Sitting here, talking to me isn't taking your mind off what's coming, and I sure as bloody hell don't want to sit, trying to make conversation, while you worry. There will be plenty of time for that later." He extended a hand.

She still didn't move. She didn't even scold him for cursing.

"Do I have to ask? Why do you put me through these things?" He grabbed her hand "Dance with me." It wasn't a question. He pulled her to her feet.

"Are you sure?" She wobbled her on high heels. Her feet hurt.

"You danced with Harry, and Fred, and even Charlie, but you're not going to dance with me?" She hadn't even thought of asking him; all the others had asked her and she hadn't seemed disappointed when he hadn't asked.

"Okay, but I'm not wearing the shoes."

"Fine by me."

As she kicked off the shoes, she became several inches shorter. They walked out onto the dance floor as the song ended and another began.

They danced through several quick songs; Ron was wearing a suit that fit well enough, even it was well worn through in places, and Hermione was in a knee-length white dress, patterned with pink flowers and sleeves with short ruffles. Hermione's temperament had improved when they stepped on the floor and she seemed in much better spirits now. Somehow through the course of their dancing they'd wound up near the center of the cluster of dancers.

The song changed yet again and ballad started. "Do you still want to dance?" Ron asked, a little breathless. He'd tried to keep the embarrassment on his face minimal when they danced; he knew his dance moves weren't very great, but at least he tried. And he wanted to dance with her.

She nodded and put her arms around his neck. The song played on. As they danced, their steps took them from the near-center of the floor and out towards the edge. They slid closer together as one ballad ran into another. Her head fell against his chest.

Ron leaned his chin on top of her head. And so they danced.

Hermione was suddenly aware that her feet weren't on the wooden floor any longer, but on the damp grass. The sun was setting. The scene could have been picturesque. Maybe it was, but no one watched. She looked up at Ron. The moment felt right, and she kissed him.

I got a funny feeling
The moment that your lips touched mine
Something shot right through me
My heart skipped a beat in time

It lasted maybe thirty seconds, and was awkward at first, but it didn't matter. When they pulled away, Ron didn't let go of her. But he did stare at her, eyes wide. Why now? Why when they were going off tomorrow, leaving home without a word? Why couldn't this have been this past year, when they might have enjoyed being happy?

"Well?" she asked. She looked nervous. She'd clearly initiated the kiss, but he had complied. It was as much him as it was her. And it had felt right.

Ron swallowed involuntarily. He looked around him. The party continued in front of them. They could pretend they hadn't kissed. Even that they hadn't danced. But why should they? It seemed so right. He wanted this so much. Scary and exciting and wonderful and…what else was there?

There's a different feel about you tonight
It's got me thinkin' lots of crazy things
I even think I saw a flash of light
It felt like electricity

He looked at her. Her hair was it's usual mess; made messier still by several songs spent dancing. Her dress suited her. It was more feminine than anything she usually wore, but not provocative or anything of the sort. Merlin, she looked beautiful to him. He wanted to avoid talking, to kiss her again until she couldn't breathe and their weren't words left. But what good would that do?

He didn't want to hurt himself any more than necessary. If that was just a caught in the moment thing, an accident, an I'm-sorry-I-don't-know-what-I-was-thinking thing, he never wanted to think of it again.

His voice was hoarse. "Hermione…" There was so many things to say, how could he say them. Pressing his forehead to hers, he looked at her, pulling her further from the dance floor under a tree. The last rays of sun shone through the branches. Why did she have to spoil everything by doing exactly what he secretly wanted? "Don't do this to me," he whispered, a tad harshly.

"Do what?"

You shouldn't kiss me like this
Unless you mean it like that
Cause I'll just close my eyes
And I won't know where I'm at
We'll get lost on this dance floor
Spinnin' around
And around
And around
And around

"Why did you kiss me?" He needed to know. He needed to know now. If she didn't mean it as anything more than an accident between friends, he needed her to say it now and be done with it.

He felt like it was fourth year again. Fourth year the way it should have been if he would have the guts to ask her when he should have. He saw her everyday. He could have been alone with her at anytime, and there certainly times when he had been. And yet he never asked. And now they had to go into the world and be adults in the morning.

He could just stand here and dance with her all night, and pretend, but that would hurt worse than anything else. He needed the truth now, painful or not. But he couldn't stand just listening to it. He needed a distraction; she wasn't speaking quickly enough. He started dancing with her again; she didn't protest. He shouldn't be trying to distract himself, or her. It would only make things worse. It had to have been a mistake or she would have spoken sooner.

They're all watchin' us now
They think we're falling in love
They'd never believe we're just friends
When you kiss me like this
I think you mean it like that
If you do baby kiss me again

Ron looked around. A few curious glances had turned their way, but the majority of the party was still enjoying itself. Tonks and Remus were dancing, and Tonks gave him the thumbs up. Harry, sitting at a table and talking to Charlie grinned at him. Even Ginny looked pleased. Mrs. Weasley, had she been able to stop fussing with the refreshments or take her eyes away from the newlyweds, would have likewise approved.

He was slightly horrified. They all knew what he wanted, and they thought he had it. They were watching with knowing eyes. Why did they all have to know? Why didn't Hermione say something? Why didn't he say something? He took a deep breath and pulled her closer; they started to dance again.

Everybody swears we make the perfect pair
But dancing is as far as it goes
Girl you've never moved me quite
The way you moved me tonight
I just wanted you to know
I just wanted you to know

He whispered to her. Maybe it was a little melodramatic, but he couldn't help it. It was how he felt. "Hermione. I—" There weren't words. "I don't care about you the same way I care about Ginny or Harry. It's different. If…if you feel the same…as I do. Kiss me again. Don't say anything. Please." His voice pained. His emotions were usually more on his sleeve than he ever wished them to be. But he couldn't help it. Subtlety was not one of his strong suits.

Hermione looked up at him.

Kiss me, please, kiss me, he thought, helpless against thinking anything else.

She kissed him.

He hoped it wasn't a lie, and kissed her back. As they kissed, they danced.

Tomorrow would be tomorrow, but tonight was tonight. Tonight nothing mattered except himself, the dance floor, and Hermione. What else could he do? There was no other escape; none he would have chosen at any rate.

And at the moment, just for this one moment, he wouldn't have it any other way. He closed his eyes.

They're all watchin' us now
They think we're falling in love
They'd never believe we're just friends
When you kiss me like this
I think you mean it like that
If you do baby kiss me again
Kiss me again

Ron sighed. Tomorrow could take care of itself tomorrow. He didn't care what anyone else thought at the moment. He almost didn't care what he thought for that matter. His entire attention was on Hermione. He couldn't stand the thought of being "just friends" any longer. He wanted to have a steady rock to hold on to like he was now. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to freeze this moment for all time.

At Ron's sigh, Hermione looked up at him. "Do you need me to repeat my answer?"

He smiled. "Yes, please." If you mean it like that, Hermione, kiss me again. And again. And again…

Ginny watched. Except that Ron looked a little like a stunned deer (or maybe a stunned giraffe), the two of them seemed happy. She knew they would leave in the morning. The three of them. And she might not see them again. She'd said her goodbyes already; she wouldn't try and stop them or turn them in.

All she could do was pray for them all to return as unscarred as possible. Scars didn't have to be flesh to be real. She knew that.

"Gin-gin!"

She smiled at the freckle-faced boy at her knee. His arms were outstretched. She picked him up and held him, resting some of his weight on her hip. This wasn't so bad. She could stay home for a while. Just because she wouldn't be traipsing across the countryside didn't mean that her heart wasn't with them, or that she wouldn't be doing everything she could to help.

Harry also watched his friends with interest for a moment. Things seemed to be going well. Hopefully they would talk after they finished their snogging. Starting their trip with unspoken tension would do no one any good. For now, all that needed doing was a bit of relaxing. Their plans were made and wouldn't be delayed. Still, they weren't leaving until morning.

A girl walked by and he offered to dance with her.

Author's Note: If you enjoyed the fic (or the song for that matter) leave a review and I'll appreciate it muchly.