Author Note: just a little something I wanted to try out, hope you like, please review :) all characters and such belong to the goddess that is JK Rowling.
No-one was fooling anyone; except they were fooling each other. Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead distractedly. He was once again caught between two people who seemed to never be able to make up. It was as though they looked for fights with each other. But that was ridiculous, who searched to fight with someone? Ron and Hermione it seemed.
He scratched his head with the end of his quill and turned over a page in his Transfiguration textbook. The rustling of pages was the only sound in the deathly silent common room. Ron sat to his right gazing darkly out the window into the night and Hermione sat to his left staring blankly at the fire. The fire spat fiercely and the rain hit the window angrily. Pathetic fallacy it seemed.
Eventually he slammed the book shut and said loudly, 'Well?'
Neither of them looked around; they both continued staring in opposite directions, refusing in their irritatingly stubborn ways.
'Fine' Harry said, shoving his books under his arm and stalking off towards the dormitory. They even managed to put him in a bad mood, why were they always fighting and full of friction? He marched up the steps and left the two behind him to sulk alone.
Ron continued to watch the rain make trains down the window. He felt downright miserable, and angry, but most of all he felt confused. He couldn't help himself flying off the handle at Hermione. He never got this angry with anyone else, not Harry nor Ginny not even Fred or George and they knew just how to push all the wrong buttons. There was something about Hermione that stirred up something inside him – like a squirming sensation inside him, which lashed out compellingly towards her, even when he didn't mean to.
A noise started behind him.
His head snapped round, sure that Hermione was going to say something. But still she was gazing at the fire, watching it twist and flicker. As though cemented by something, Ron could not move his head back to the window. Instead, he stopped and fixed his stare on her. His eyes glassed over, taking in every detail: the curve of each hair on her head, the slight crease on her forehead, the blazing colour reflected in her eyes, and the sadness that played over her face as she observed the flames.
"Would you stop?" she said suddenly, breaking the silence but not her gaze.
"Sorry… I…" Ron flushed and scratched the back of his neck idiosyncratically.
Silence fell again until,
"I don't know what you want me to say…" he murmured.
"An apology would be a good place to start," she snorted into the fire.
"I'm sorry Hermione." he replied simply.
"Yeah well, that's not going to cut it this time" she sighed standing up and turning her back to him, smoothing down her robes.
"But, you just, you said…"
"I'm sorry Ron, but you can't expect me to come running back every time you call me a name, or laugh at me behind my back or criticise me, just because you said sorry. And don't make those eyes at me" she finished, not turning round.
For she knew exactly the look he was giving her: his eyes dropped and gazed with such sadness she felt it boring into her back.
"Well you're not exactly faultless" he retorted, knowing all the while it was most untactful.
"Oh good, here we go, the great Ronald Weasley is going to tell me how I am at fault" she folded her arms tightly and fixed her stare anywhere but him.
"Well you say these things, and then you take it back, and you mess with my head and I just don't know what you want me to do Hermione."
"Maybe take some initiative for once." she snapped, turning round and stalking towards him.
He stepped back, a little afraid admittedly, but allowed her to come closer.
"Fine." He spat into her face. "I like you. A lot. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Well, I, I…"
"Oh miracle of miracles, Hermione Granger is silenced."
And then total silence fell. They simply stood. Inches from each other; noses almost touching – they stood. Hermione tilted her head upwards to look into Ron's piercing blue eyes, and he in turn gazed back. He leaned down, and their lips brushed, just a fraction, so slight he could have been dreaming. Then she turned away.
"I, I…"
"Oh Hermione, spit it out." shouted Ron, angry once more. He had been so close: he had even tried to kiss her and had told her he liked her. What more did she want? To be swept off her feet by a knight in shining armour? Well sorry, but this was no fairy tale.
"I think I'm going to go to bed" Hermione said eventually and began to move away. Ron could not believe it. This woman was mad, she must be. She started to make her way off towards the steps up to the dormitory, but small legs like hers were surely no match for Ron's gangling figure.
"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily" and he grabbed her wrist and spun her around so forcefully her body collided with his.
"I like you Hermione, I mean I really like you. And I know you like me too." He almost murmured it, in a dark tone so quiet and serious only Hermione could hear his utterance. "So, so help me, but I am going to kiss you now, because I've wanted this for a really long time, and I've finally got the courage to do what you've wanted me to do, that I'm going to do it, and do it right. 'Be spontaneous' you said, 'act on impulse!' Well impulse has been waiting too long, and it's time to act."
He took her fragile face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers. They kissed fiercely, fighting, pushing and pulling with a sweet yet electric feeling unlike anything Ron had ever felt before. He clutched the back of her thick hair and pushed her towards him, willing her to kiss him forever. She wound her arms around his neck and held on, losing herself in his kiss.
After what felt an eternity they broke apart, pulling themselves back to reality; all they could do, transfixed in the moment, was stare at one another.
About time too, as the rain began to cease.
FIN.