Late Night Love and Brownies

By: Lady Fowl-Potter of the Rings

Disclaimer: I do not own anything!

Authors Note: The idea for this came to me while making brownies one day. Hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed my brownies!

"I'm hungry!" moaned Ron Weasley late one August night to no one in particular. His best friend, Harry Potter, mumbled something beside him. "What was that mate?" Ron asked, not realizing Harry was still asleep.

"Ginny, please!" Harry mumbled, happily, still asleep.

"Mate, if you're dating my sister, could you at least stop talking about her in your sleep," Ron whispered to his sleeping friend as he snuck out of the room they were sharing.

Slowly Ron made his way downstairs to the kitchen to find something to eat, careful to avoid the squeaky steps.

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"Oh Harry!" Ginny Weasley exclaimed, fast sleep. Luckily for her, her roommate, Hermione Granger, couldn't aim her pillow very well when she was half-sleep.

"Why?" Hermione thought, "Why must I put up with this? I thought them getting together would be a good thing!" Her stomach grumbled, interrupting her thoughts, "Gosh, I thought I'd eaten enough tonight to hold me until school! Oh well, to the kitchen it is then." And with that she set off down the stairs.

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"Roast beef? Nah. Mashed potatoes? Nope. Carrots? No thank you! Bloody-"

"Who are you talking to, Ron?" Hermione interrupted.

"Aaaaaah!! Hermione, you scared the bloody crap out of me!!"

"RON!"

"Sorry 'Mione. Why are you here?"

"I was hungry ... and your sister woke me up, talking about our dear friend Harry in her sleep, again! Why are you here?"

"Same thing. Only it was Harry talking about Ginny, not the other way around, of course!"

"Of course," Hermione said, giggling, "So what is there to eat?"

"Nothing! Unless you're looking for roast beef dinner, that is."

"How would you like some brownies, Ron?"

"I'd love some, but we don't have any."

"Are you willing to wait a little more than half an hour to have the best brownies you've ever tasted, topped with the best chocolate sauce you've ever had?"

"Yeah!" Ron said eagerly.

"Well, let me go get the recipes, and then we can start."

Ron watched her as she walked across the kitchen, thinking she was crazy to try to get him to cook.

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Ten minutes later, he was beating eggs and wearing an apron, of all the things in the world.

"At least we're here," Ron mumbled to himself, looking around the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, "If we were at home, the only aprons would be Mum's frilly ones."

"What was that Ron?" Hermione asked as she came out of the pantry.

"I was just saying something to myself, that's all."

"And what were you saying to yourself?"

"That girl could get anything out of me," Ron thought before saying, "I said I was glad we were here and not at my house, because the only aprons there are Mum's frilly ... things."

Hermione started to laugh like crazy.

"What in bloody hell is so funny?"

She was laughing so hard she didn't get mad at him, but did manage to say, "You ... in your mum's apron!" before starting to laugh again.

"I'm glad you find it so amusing," Ron said sarcastically.

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"Well, now we wait," Hermione declared as she closed the door to the oven.

"How long will it take?" Ron whined, his stomach grumbling.

"Likely about 25 minutes. What do you want to do until then?"

"Snog you senseless," Ron thought before saying, "How about a game of chess?"

"Anything else?" Hermione asked.

"No," Ron lied, remembering his thoughts from a few seconds before.

"Fine, go get your chess set."

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"Hermione, you've improved!" Ron declared 20 minutes later, "How'd you get so much better?"

"I played with my dad a lot over the summer. I figured I should at least get so I can beat Harry or Ginny, because I know I'll never beat you. Your turn."

Ron studied the board closely, forgetting her compliments. He moved his queen, and said, "Check!" just as a timer started to beep.

"The brownies are ready!" Hermione exclaimed as she jumped up from the table and opened the oven door.

"Are they really ready?" Ron asked suspiciously as he got the chocolate sauce out of the refrigerator.

"Yes. Done to perfection."

"Just like the cooks who made them!"

Hermione chuckled. "You really think so?" she asked.

"I know so!" he said confidently.

"Well, Mr. Perfect, can you be the perfect official sauce put-er-on-er?"

"Well, Miss Perfect, only if you can be the perfect official brownie cut-er-out-er!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and started to cut the brownies. She put two big brownies in each bowl, and Ron put two big spoonfuls of sauce on top of each of the bowls. They each picked up a bowl and sat down at the table.

Ron took his first bite.

"Hermione, I love you," he said around a mouthful of brownies and sauce.

"What did you say?" Hermione said, knowing the answer perfectly well.

"I love...your brownies?" Ron said, turning red to match his hair.

"I love you too, Ron."

"You do?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Let's see ... in third year there was that whole Time Turner thing, and in fourth year-"

"Shut up!"

"Only if you make me," Ron said in a sing-song voice.

"Okay, I will," and with that, Hermione kissed him.

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When Fred and George came downstairs to get an early breakfast in the morning, they were greeted by an interesting sight. Ron and Hermione had their heads on the table, fast asleep with aprons on. They had chocolate lip prints on their faces, and a chess game and two bowls of brownies sat forgotten on the table.

"George, I think we may have major blackmail potential here," Fred whispered to his twin, as he snapped a photo of the sleeping pair with his handy pocket camouflaged camera (Weasley Wizard Wheezes – 2 galleons!)

"Yeah! If we ever need the help of little Ronniekins or Hermione, all we have to do is threaten to spill the beans on their late night love and brownies!"

With that closing remark, the twins grabbed the bowls and had a very sweet breakfast (but not in the kitchen).