Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. JK Rowling created them. (All hail JKR!)
Grow Up!
Ron's Point of View
As usual, at this time of the day, the Common Room looked truly amazing. All the lights were put off, and the only source of light was comming from the four fireplaces that were situates in the corners of the room. You'd think that the Common Room is a bit small for all the students from years one to seven. But the thing is that the Common Room was bewitched so that no matter how many students there were, they would always fit in it.
Most people were finishing off their last-minute papers due the next day from all different subjects, but most of them from their most hated class – potions. No one in their right mind would actually do the assigment the same day it was given. Well.. there was one exeption, but now, she was doing something completely different.
She was sitting, right there, in her favorite spot. In that big, gold-red armchair, near the fireplace. She was still knitting those little hats for all the House Elves that work in Hogwarts. She was getting better, but they still looked like woolly bladders to him. Although he didn't say it out loud. Oh no. She didn't give up on her SPEW 'project' as he called it. He watched her from the very end of the Griffindor Common Room. He always did it. It was like a habbit of his. Just like some people have to fix their hair or something every hour, he had to watch Hermione. He thought she was very pretty, as the moonlight and the light of the fire fell opon her hair and face. It was the absolute perfection to him. She had long, curly, brown hair, large, brown eyes and red, soft lips. Lips that he'd very much like to kiss. As he tought of that, she just bit her lower lip. She always did that when she made a mistake (which didn't happen very often) or when she was worried (that happened much more often). She must have made an error, knitting her hat. There was a pile of them, lying on the floor near her feet. She was going to leave them around the Common Room, for the House Elves to pick up, so they would be free. Poor Hermione. He still didn't have the heart to tell her that the only Elf that picks up all of her hats is an already freed Elf, Dobby. She always seemed so happy when she saw that the hats have disappeared, and that just made his day.
He loved her. More than he loved anybody else. He would do anything for her. He'd even knitt those hats, if she'd ask him to. But why would such a beautiful, smart, brave girl - no. Not girl, woman. Yes. Woman. Why would such a wonderful woman want somebody like Ronald Weasley? He didn't have anything to offer her. He hated seeing her disapointed, but loved to help her when she was in need. Like a couple of days ago. Harry had gone off for another Detention with Professor Downhill. He and Hermione were alone in the Common Room, without counting the exeption of 30 other Griffindors. She had sent a letter to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures before, and had recieved a reply from no other than McNair. He had refused the whole idea of SPEW, saying, a bit rudely, that House Elves don't want freedom nor the right to decide what kind of treatement they need. And also that only a stupid fifteen year old girl could come up with an idea like that, and that she had to be even more stupid since she still tought, at the age of seventeen, that the idea was still good. She was pretty down with that. She was practically crying her eyes out. And he hated to see her cry. So he stayed with her, trying to comfort her, until she felt better.
He sighed and took his eyes off Hermione. He knew he should get over it. Just... drop it. He knew Hermione didn't feel the same thing, he felt for her. I mean, she was beautiful, he was not. She was smart, let's just say he wasn't very bright. She was always happy, he was whiny and sometimes grompy. He only knew how to make her laugh. But anybody should, and would, know how to do that. You don't need to have a big talent to make a joke. The last one he told her was: Did you hear what happened to the ferret that was on the toilet seat? It got pissed off. She laughed her head out at that. He loved her laugh. It was like music to his ears. He shaked his head, as if he was trying to throw away all his toughts about his Hermi— no! Not his. —about Hermione. He gave her one last look and went to the Boys Dormitory.
Hermione's Point of View
All that time while she was knitting her hats, her toughts stayed with a certain red-head. She was always thinking about him. Ever since the Fourth Year, well, maybe since the very end of the Third. Before he was very childish, never took anything seriously, always joked of everything. But it was that that cought her attention to him in the first place. She loved his jokes. Not so long ago, he had finally grew up. He changed. He became more serious about something. She could see it in his eyes. But he still was his funny self, whenever he could, he joked of anything. Even of Voldemort. He finally stopped saying You-Know-Who, but Voldemort or (what else) U-No-Poo. She smiled. The tought of Ron always made her smile. But why would somebody like Ron, would like an ugly know-it-all, in a more than 'just a friend way'. She sighed. She looked at the spot were Ron was sitting earlier. Now it was occupied by that complete ass McLaggen. She decided to call it a night.
"I'm going to bed Gin. You commin'?" she asked Ron's sis, Ginny. She didn't notice that she was watching her and Ron all night.
"When are you going to tell Ron what you really feel? I see the way you look at him, when you think nobody's watching and how—" she said, but couldn't fininsh, because she was interupted by Hermione.
"How about never? He doesn't feel the same thing for me and if I'd tell him, it might just ruin our friendship. " She said and ran upstairs to the Girls Dormitory. She decided not to lie to Ginny about her true feelings, since she aparently guessed them already.
"And what if he does?" Ginny said to herself in a whisper.