Author: Woodface
Summary: Well, it's not much, but it's R/H.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. If they were, would I *really* be writing fanfiction?
A/N: This is my first fic and I'd be really greatful to everyone if they'd review. I know it's short (more like microscopic) but I like it this way. and I also didn't know where it was going (That sounds so pathetic, doesn't it?) And I'd just like to say cheers Kate (aka Rin Berry, you should all *so* go read her stuff even if you don't like R/H) for finally making me get up off my lazy butt and write something.
Hermione glanced at Ron, sitting in the common room, just 3 feet away from her, challenging himself to a game of chess. Why didn't he realise just how much she liked him? She liked everything, from his personality to his looks. Admittedly, she wasn't one to think about looks but when great one are sitting there in front of you, staring in your face, you just can't ignore them!
"Helooooooooo?" Someone said sarcasitcally, a certain red haired, freckled someone, sitting in front of her, staring her in the face. "Anyone in there?"
"What?"
"You kinda weirded out there for a minute."
"I did?"
"You did." Ron said, looking pretty concerned. "Anything wrong?"
Yeah, she thought, actually there is. It's you. "No, nothing."
"Sure?"
"Yeah."
"Well, OK, just... take it easy. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you." Ron stood up, and helped her up too. Their hands touched, and Hermione felt a spark of something... had Ron felt it too? Obviously not, he was looking perfectly oblivious. "Dinner?" he asked.
"Sure." They walked down to the hall and sat at the table, waiting for Harry to come back from Quidditch practice. He'd been chosen as the new cpatian now that Quidditch was back on. Having no Quidditch the year before had seemed to get everyone even more excited and hopeful for a great Quidditch season this year. Harry had been swamped with practice, trying to get the team back into shape and ready for anything.
While helping herself to lasagne, Hermione tried to make conversation.
"So.... who are you going to take to the dance this Christmas?" she asked, and then immediately regretted it. Why had that come out of her mouth? The Christmas ball was two days away, of course he'd already have a date! Dammit!
"Well..." Ron began, looking srangely at her, "I was planning on taking someone special this yeas and asking them before anyone else did. Even though it's only a few days away, there's still loads of people without dates..." Hermione held her breath, desperately hoping it would be her. "I'm taking Lavender." he said. When he saw the look on her face, he quickly fixed what he'd said. "No, I'm only kidding! Don't worry! Breathe! I'm taking you, stupid. That is," he added, "If you'd like to come." Hermione couldn't believe it.
"Me?"
"Yeah, you. Would you like to come or not?"
"Wow... I'd love to!"
"Great," Ron grinned, "I guess that's sorted then." Ron felt the tops of his ears become that oh-so-familiar red. He quickly poured a glass of pumpkin juice to hide his embarrassment.
Hermione ate slowly, mulling over the fact that he'd finally asked her out. This was great!
Ron, on the other hand, ate as fast as he could, embarrassed, but secretly glad that she hadn't had a date already. Yet again he'd left it too late to ask her, and had very nearly repreated his peformance from last year. But everything was OK, she was his date and his dress robes didn't have frills. He quickly finished, stood up ready to go, and kissed Hermione on the cheek.
"Thanks for saying yes," he whispered, and walked out with long, quick paces.
Harry passed him on the way, trailing mud everywhere. When Ron didn't say anything, Harry rushed into the hall to dinner to find out what was wrong.
"What was that?" He asked Hermione. She smiled to herself.
"Nothing special." she replied, reching for the apple crumble.
I told you it was short. You should have believed me. And I also told you to review. Please? ::tries to use innocent puppy dog eyes to get everyone to review::