It was a cold winter's morning in Gryffindor Tower. The birds had hidden away deep within the Forbidden Forest, only disturbed by whatever seemed to dwell within. The sun rose slowly, melting the snow from the branches. Flooding in through a slit in the curtain, the sun illuminated the red head of Ron Weasley, who screwed up his face in sleepy annoyance. Owls hooted outside, further disallowing any chance of a lie in. Groaning with desperation, Ron flung the duvet to one side, yawning widely, his arms stretching to the heavens. He was alone, the three beds of Harry, Neville and Dean gathering dust. Each of his roommates was at their respective holiday haunts. Ron had opted to stay behind to catch up on OWL revision for January. His brothers and sister had bid him farewell a few days ago, their cheery voices still ringing in his ears. Plodding up to his bedside chair, he snatched his dressing gown off the back and slipped it on, grumbling at the cold air that had seemed through the stone walls. Hurriedly trotting downstairs, he came across a lit fire, which was presided over by Dobby the house elf. Ron yawned heavily, causing Dobby to turn around.
'Oh, Hello Ronald Weasley, sir. It's a pleasure to see you, yes it is' Dobby bowed low, his long nose brushing the threadbare carpet.
'And the same to you, Dobby' Ron replied, sleepily. 'You haven't seen anyone else around have you?'
'No, sir. Dobby has not, sir. Dobby did see Miss Granger leave to go to the Library last night and when I checked her room, her bed was empty, so it was' Dobby said. 'She must have been gone all night, she must' Ron paused at the mention of Hermione's name.
'Thank you, Dobby' Ron said, turning quickly back up the stairs. After a quick shower and hair wash, Ron reappeared, donning his usual festive sweater and made for the exit. Dobby bid farewell, as Ron lunged through, into the castle. It was evident that Ron had a little crush on Hermione. It didn't take a genius to see it. Even Hermione was aware of it, yet she made little fuss about it, seeing it as more of a phase, rather than a serious thing. This, naturally had a very adverse effect on Ron, thought being a thick skinned individual, he hardly showed his discomfort. This had only helped Hermione's ignorance of his true feelings. But he had picked his time wisely. Hermione was always here for Christmas and considering this year was OWL year, there would be no exception. Being the dashing Casanova he was, Ron would use the study session as a chance to get her on her own, confess his love and live happily ever after.
At least, that's how it went in his head.
Ron slunk into the nearly deserted Great Hall. Taking a seat on the Gryffindor table, he grabbed the nearest slice of toast, buttering it feverishly. He hadn't much time to spare, knowing Hermione was a fickle girl, who preferred to be on the move. But considering it was Christmas, he half expected her to relax. If Dobby was to be believed, he was surely mistaken. This meant his next stop was the Library, after his hasty breakfast. Not even bothering to rest the toast on his plate, Ron made for the exit, toast in hand, his front slightly dotted with crumbs. This was it, the start of one of the best days of his life. The day he finally told Hermione Granger how he felt about her. What was the worst that could happen?