Whoo hoo! Emo R/Hr DH story!!!

Disclaimer: Buddy, if I owned these guys, I would be lounging in some posh French villa answering interview questions, not babysitting my psycho brother.

It was late. Too late for someone who needed an excess amount of sleep the next day. For, tomorrow, I was to be leaving with Harry and Ron to 'save the world'. I didn't want to cry; I'd done enough crying the past few days. Crying for Harry, mum and dad, myself, and the Weasleys… I had done enough crying.

Yet…

Perhaps my body thought I hadn't shed enough tears. They fell, thick and strong, drenching my pillow. They was not just for myself, mind; Ginny was losing Harry throughout this. Ron was losing his family. My parents weren't positive on who they were. But I did have reasons to cry for myself, so I did.

I heaved my slightly shaking body out of the little cot, wiping my eyes on my sheets. I knew I had to be strong. Deep breaths, deep breaths…

I stood, pulling on a robe. Slipping carefully past Ginny's bed, I gently creaked the door ajar walked into the hallway. Tiptoeing into the bathroom, I flashed my wand over the little candle in it's stand in the corner and dipped my hands into the bucket of cool water. Splashing some over my face, I rubbed my hands over my neck and glanced into the mirror.

I wasn't pretty. I certainly wasn't pretty with my hair frizzled up and my eyes all puffy, my tears red and streaked with wet. So why did Viktor like me? He told me himself that he came to see just me.

And why did Ron like me? Yes, I knew he liked me. It was so obvious, the way he flirted. And that book Ginny confiscated for me… Very funny.

Of course I had the same one, only it was 12 Foolproof Ways to Woo your Wizard. It contained many hairbrained schemes that I had attempted many times, but didn't like. 'Ask him to help you on your homework' and 'Giggle with your friends while glancing pointedly', were out of the question. Firstly, because I was the one that usually had to do the tutoring, and secondly, all of my best friends are boys. Including the one I liked.

I could always hook up with Lavender and Parvati, but they were too ditzy for my taste.

Frowning, I scooped my hair up into a little ponytail on the back of my head. Letting loose a few strands, I tried to go for 'sexy schoolgirl'. Failing miserably. Twisting it up onto the top of my head, I did the sort of pout they do in 'Witch Weekly', and almost laughed aloud. It was official; I was not pretty, sexy, gorgeous, beautiful, or even pleasant. I was a troll.

Suddenly, a tantalizing smell hit my nostrils. Eggs, with ham and spices and ketchup and cheese…

I had the abrupt desire to munch on these little morsels.

Then I began to wonder; Who on earth would be making scrambled eggs at (I consulted the little clock on the wall) 1:00 in the morning?

Probably just Mr. Weasly, or Bill, maybe, just having one of their very masculine midnight cravings. Dad used to do it all the time…

I swallowed the waterworks at the mental mention of my dad. Just walk, walk, down all the crooked stairs…

I entered the dimly-lit kitchen to meet the sight of a tall redhead's back. But it wasn;t the tall redhead I had expected. Not at all.

"Ron?" I said, and my voice shook. He turned, concern filling his sleepy blue eyes. I realized with a small burst of hilarity that I must sound and look pathetic.

"'Mione, why're you up? What's wrong?" He took a few steps forward, holding out his arms in a questioning sort of way.

I laughed wetly and folded myself in his arms. His chest was bare, and felt surprisingly nice against my wet cheeks. "I-I'm all right. Just…reminiscing, a bit. And… thinking about tomorrow." He imitated my laugh.

"Me, too. God, you look awful. I mean… not that you look awful, you just…" He trailed off, tensing up, as though waiting for me to slap him and run away, simply because he had insulted my pathetic looks.

"It's fine. I know I look terrible. Not that I don't always look terrible, but tonight, I really am a sight." I heard my voice drop in slight disappointment in the end. I was a teenage girl, no matter how hard I might try to oppress it. It was instinct to feel crappy about my looks.

Ron startled me by lifting my chin up with two fingers. "'Mione," he said, capturing his eyes with mine. My surroundings turned to incoherent blobs. "You do not look terrible. You never look terrible. Never have, never will." I smiled up at him.

"And this is coming from someone who looks closely?" I asked, internally wondering if this were true. Suddenly, his face was was much closer to my own.

"Yes." He said, pain entering his voice alarmingly quick. "Yes, I have really looked."

My heart sped up about 50 beats. His big, warm hands gently cupped my face, and I barely felt it as he slowly closed the distance between out faces.

Fire exploded in her heart as they kissed. (A/N: changing persons is a strategy I learned yesterday. I think it's cool.)

I thought I was to explode with happiness as he kissed me. I was not experienced in this area of expertise, and Ron was. I couldn't breathe; I didn't care. God, Viktor had been nothing. Let him go and elope with Harry, for all I cared now.

He began to deepen our embrace as he gently pressed me up against the wall. Not knowing exactly what to do, I slid my hands around his neck. He made a tiny noise, suggesting pleasure. He was tangling his hands in my hair, messing it up further.

Now I know what Ginny means when she talks about Harry.

And then it was over, my few moments of pure bliss, gone. He pulled away, looking at me in wonderment.

"We should go to bed." He said, a bit breathless. I managed a little noise I hope conveyed my agreement. He slowly turned, heading for the stairs.

Leaving me to eat my eggs, and to yet again contemplate about the next morning.

But this time I had no time for tears.