Written for hpshipweeks, romione week

Ron Weasley was nervous.

Hands sweating, feet tapping, lip bitingly nervous.

He didn't really understand why – it wasn't like he hadn't been friends with Hermione for years. He'd known her since the age of eleven, grown up with her, and kissed her in the middle of a war.

But this was different.

Ron guessed that it was because he'd never really asked a girl out before. (That is, if you don't count Fleur Delacour in his fourth year, and he certainly didn't.)

Lavender, his only girlfriend, had been the one to ask him out to Hogsmeade, and she'd been the one to instigate their first kiss – rather like Hermione, thought Ron vaguely, and he sighed.

Where was his Gryffindor bravery?

Besides, Hermione was different from Lavender. She was his best friend and a date (if he ever got around to making it happen) could potentially break their relationship altogether... Why did girls have to be so complicated?

But there was no point dwelling on what might happen. He had to try. He had to take the risk.

So Ron turned on his heel, and walked quickly from his room, before he could change his mind.

Hermione was fed up.

It had been two months since the end of the war – since she had kissed Ron for the first time.

Hadn't that meant anything to him? Why was he being so complicated? Did he even like her anymore?

If he still did, why in the bloody hell (to use one of his choice phrases) hadn't he asked her out yet? It wasn't like she didn't understand why he was taking his time – after all, he had lost a brother. She knew that. However, she also knew that Fred Weasley wouldn't have wanted his brother to waste his time mourning, especially when he could be snogging a girl!

Slightly shocked at her own thoughts, Hermione left Ginny's room and walked down the stairs of the Burrow.

Perhaps he just didn't want to go out with her...maybe that was it. Maybe she never should have kissed him during the war.

Either way, Hermione was determined. If he wasn't going to ask her out, she was going to do it.

They bumped – quite literally – into each other on the first floor landing. Hermione was going down to talk to him; Ron was going up to talk to her.

"Ouch!" she yelped as her forehead knocked his chin. She rubbed it, frowning up at him.

He looked down and scratched his jaw. Clearly unfazed, he muttered an apology and then started abruptly. "Hermione? Can I, uh," he ran an agitated hand through his hair, "talk to you somewhere?"

She crossed her arms.

Oh dear, thought Ron, that was never a good sign.

"You are talking to me, Ronald," she spoke, with a raised eyebrow and a challenging look that made Ron attempt to recall if he'd done something to annoy her.

"Erm, yeah, only somewhere more...private would be great." he looked around his shoulder as if expecting to see one of his family members eavesdropping.

A spark of excitement ignited in Hermione's stomach. Maybe this is it, she thought, maybe he's finally going to ask me!

Ron gulped in anticipation as she nodded and beckoned for him to follow her back up the stairs. Why am I doing this again? He thought nervously, she's not going to say yes.

As they entered Ginny's room, Ron pushed the door shut with his foot and motioned for them to sit on Hermione's camp bed together. She complied, and they perched awkwardly on the edge.

He looked at her.

She looked at him.

A pregnant pause passed, and then, "Well?" came the slightly irritated remark from Hermione.

"Well what?" said Ron unintelligently.

"What were you going to talk to me about?"

"What was I – oh, that." Ron chewed on his lip.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes?"

"Well I just, erm, I wanted to know..."

She waited, breath held.

He couldn't do it.

"D'you think I should go back to Hogwarts in September?" he blurted out, and immediately the tips of his ears flushed red and he was indefinitely angry with himself.

Was he a complete coward?

Hermione attempted to compose herself as the disappointment welled up inside her. With it, came more annoyance.

"Well, I don't know, do I?" She spoke in a rude, patronising tone, "Why are you asking me?"

"Erm," Ron pulled nervously at the stray threads on her bed sheet, trying to look at anywhere but her face. How on earth was he going to get himself out of this one? "Well, um, I just thought seeing as you normally give good advice that maybe –"

But that was the last straw for Hermione. He wanted good advice? Well, he was going to get some.

"Good advice? You want good advice?" she gave a derisive laugh, "I'll give you good advice, Ronald Weasley. The next time you want to talk to me about something, don't get my hopes up that's it's something to do with us. Don't lead me into another room to talk about something else. In fact, Ron, the best advice I could possibly give you at this point in time would be don't lead me anywhere. Don't lead me on. If you didn't want to go out with me, you shouldn't have...you..."

She took a deep, shuddering breath and looked away from his horror-struck face. Why did he look so miserable? She thought. He deserves this.

"You shouldn't have kissed me back."

He looked at her and the guilt hit his conscience like a heavy weight. "Hermione..."

"Oh, don't you 'Hermione' me!" she said, the hysteria setting in, a lump forming in her throat. She stood up, and shook an accusatory finger at him. Tears sprung to her eyes, "Why did you have to make this so difficult?"

"Difficult?" Ron spoke, his voice slightly louder, "What the hell am I making difficult?"

"Don't act like you don't know!" Her eyes narrowed, and her hands clenched to form tight fists, "You're being so complicated! If you wanted to go out with me, why didn't you just do it in the typical boy way? It's not like I would have minded, I didn't ask for it to be romantic!"

"Of course I want to bloody well go out with you!" Ron stood up, towering over her. He stepped forwards, "But how was I supposed to know if you even liked me?"

"Liked you?" She repeated incredulously, blinking back the tears, "Ron, I kissed you in the middle of a war, for Merlin's sake! I've been waiting for you to ask me out for weeks, and you haven't, and then you call me in here and I get my hopes up thinking 'this is it, he's going to ask me out', and then you ask me about something completely different!"

"What d'you mean, you've been waiting for weeks? Why didn't you just ask me?"

"Because I thought you didn't want me to!"

"And I thought you were going to say no!"

"Do I look like I'm saying no?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione, of course you don't now! But before –"

"Well, that's it then. I'm asking you right now! Ron Weasley, will you – "

But her words were cut off by Ron's eager lips, for he had gathered that hiding courage and was kissing her now like their lives depended on it. Hermione happily responded, her bad mood had evaporated, and Ron put his hands tentatively on her waist, rubbing small circles into her hips with his thumbs. Their noses bumped as their heads turned slightly and Hermione giggled. Ron smiled against her lips, breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead against hers.

"Hermione," he said, the smile turning more serious, "I'm sorry."

She sighed, "That's okay. I guess things never were going to be simple between us anyway."

Ron shrugged, "We are one complicated couple."

Hermione's heart raced at his words. Couple, he had said.

Ron pulled Hermione into a hug and for once, it wasn't awkward.

There was another pause, and then "Hermione?" Ron spoke into her shoulder, his sound muffled.

"Yeah?" She pulled out of the hug to look at him.

"Will you go out with me?"

"I thought you'd never ask."