A/N: Vondrakenhof on tumblr asked if I'd ever considered writing a fic in which Ron Weasley eats pizza for the first time which made me want to write a fic where Ron Weasley eats pizza for the first time and also pizza.

Happy belated birthday, Ron! May your day have been filled with all the junk food you could eat.

Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling. I blame the illuminati.

If Hermione had been given a family heirloom as precious as an invisibility cloak she was sure she'd be more careful with it than Harry. As it was, after days of planning the best way to ask him to borrow it, possible bargaining points and payment as well as possessions she'd be willing to give up as insurance should anything go wrong, she was disappointed when he barely looked up from his Cannons book.

"Gimmie a minute and I'll get it for you," he'd said. "Want the map as well?"

"But… Harry, what if I lose it or something?"

He snorted.

"Okay, yes, but-"

"Hermione," he sighed, putting the book down, "the chances of you losing or damaging it don't exist. I know this will have something to do with Ron's birthday - which isn't even until the end of the week, by the way - and I'm struggling with that essay Flitwick's set."

"Hint taken," she'd sighed. "Thanks, Harry."

Now, with the first hints of dawn sneaking through the windows and no one else in sight, Hermione was glad she had the cloak, if only because it kept her warm. As she hurried across the entrance hall, she was extremely thankful she wasn't heading towards the dungeons because her chattering teeth would give her away.

Eventually, she found herself in front of the familiar still life and was tickling the pear as if she did this daily. She stepped through the newly revealed door, removed the cloak and smiled brightly at the mass of house elves in front of her.

They all scowled as if she'd entered the kitchen yelling all of Ron's favourite swear words. Thankfully one elf came flying across the room, his own smile wide enough to make up for his colleagues.

"Miss Granger!" he squeaked, hugging her tightly around the middle. "What an honour it is! Dobby is always happy to see Harry Potter's friends."

"Thank you, Dobby," she replied kindly. "It's lovely to see you again, too."

Dobby beamed at her while the other elves huddled at the far end of the kitchen in the hopes they didn't catch whatever it was that made Dobby behave how he did.

She spent a few minutes exchanging pleasantries with Dobby, doing her utmost to not upset him. Apparently Winky was doing much better recently and even consented to let Dobby spend a tiny part of her wages on her behalf to get her a new skirt. She asked if any of the elves had liked the hats they'd found in the Gryffindor common room but Dobby didn't appear to hear her and changed the subject.

"Miss Granger doesn't normally come here so early. Is there anything Dobby can help Miss with?"

"Actually, Dobby, there is. You see, today is my friend Ron's birthday and-"

"Master Wheezy?" Dobby interrupted, his large eyes going impossibly wider. "Master Wheezy is always so kind to Dobby. Dobby must find him a gift!"

"If you help me, I could say it was a joint gift from both of us?" suggested Hermione when Dobby looked as if he was about to run to his apparently infinite collection of socks.

Dobby nodded, his ears flapping around as he did so.

"Okay so, in the Muggle world, there's a kind of food that I think Ron would love, but he's never tried it. I was thinking, if it wasn't too much trouble, you could make some for him?"

Dobby's face split into a crinkly smile. "Dobby would be honoured!"

"I'll pay you, obviously," she hastened to add, pulling a shirt out of her bag. It was meant for a four year old, but she hoped it'd add a bit of class the Dobby's otherwise… colourful wardrobe.

As she probably should have suspected, Dobby took the shirt from her, eyes watering, as if it were the Turin Shroud.

"Dobby would have helped Miss Granger for nothing," he croaked. "Harry Potter's friends have done nothing but nice things for Dobby and others across the wizarding world. Miss is too kind," he sobbed, trying to thrust the shirt back at her.

Hermione knelt down and put an arm around his shoulders. "Please don't cry, Dobby. I only wanted to thank you for helping me."

Gradually she was able to talk Dobby out of his meltdown by saying he looked very smart in his new shirt and promising to not pay him for the next three favours she needed.

"What is the food Miss Granger wants Master Wheezy to have?" Dobby asked, only hiccuping slightly now.

"Pizza."

She had mentioned on their prefect rounds the other night that, although she didn't like eating it often, she missed pizza. When Ron hadn't heard of it, she'd done her best to explain what it was, but hadn't done a very good job. Ron was now under the impression that pizza was an unfinished pie that contained no gravy and could not see the appeal whatsoever.

Dobby's bottom lip started quivering. "Dobby has never of pizza either, Miss Granger. Dobby has failed-"

Well-versed in elf hysterics as she was, Hermione had spotted the warning signs early and was already rooting around in her bag for a brightly coloured hardback. "Don't panic! I've got the recipe here!"

With the cookbook open at the correct page, Dobby was able to collect the ingredients and start mixing the dough at an alarming speed.

Hermione rolled up her sleeves. "I'd love to help. Do you need me to do anything?"

Dobby stopped mixing and eyed her over the top of the bowl wearily. Despite being able to stir quicker than any electronic mixer Hermione had ever seen, he didn't have a spot of flour on him.

"Er… Dobby is okay, Miss."

"Oh. Okay."

Within a few short minutes, Dobby had finished making the dough and was attempting to widen the base by copying the instructions in the book. The other elves were peering over at them, clearly fascinated, behind the façade of working. One of them was paying so little attention to his own work that he hadn't realised that he'd been attempting to stir the table.

Brow furrowed in concentration, Dobby managed to lift the dough above his head and began the difficult looking process of throwing and spinning that Hermione distinctly remembered seeing a Blue Peter presenter get horribly wrong when she was a child. Sure enough, it wasn't long before the base had engulfed the tiny elf, giving him the look of a child who'd made their Halloween ghost costume from dough instead of a sheet.

"Dobby!"

"Dobby is fine, miss," came his muffled reply. The dough over his mouth swelled and deflated as he spoke.

The other elves spotted the mess and rushed to assist him, abandoning the breakfast preparations they were barely concentrating on anyway. Once Dobby was free and the ruined dough disposed of, he grinned sheepishly at his colleagues. One of the older elves with a strangely square nose glared at him.

"What is you doing?" he squeaked angrily. "Breakfast is in two hours and-"

"I'm sorry," Hermione jumped in. Hundreds of elf eyes turned to stare at her with ill-disguised anger and she found her mouth had gone incredibly dry. "I asked Dobby to make something he'd never done before. It's my friends birthday today and-"

"Harry Potter?" asked one of the elves Hermione recognised from previous visits. If she wasn't mistaken, it was the house elf who had thrown a spoon at her when she'd suggested Dobby was the future of house elves everywhere.

"Um - no. The other one. Ron Weasley."

The mood in the room shifted immediately. From her vantage point she saw a sea of pointed ears prick up and heard several squeals of excitement. One elf near the back even clapped.

Hermione was somewhat taken aback. She'd thought she was the only one who reacted that way when Ron's name was mentioned.

"H-he's never had pizza before so I thought, because it's his birthday, that he should try it."

She hadn't finished speaking when the square-nosed elf had recovered the book from the table near Dobby and was barking instructions to the rest of the group. To avoid being tripped over by a scurrying elf, Hermione took a step back against a table. Beside her Dobby was smiling, his arms crossed against his chest.

"Master Wheezy is a favourite amongst the Hogwarts house-elves, miss," he explained proudly as a second, bigger pizza base took shape. "He is always very appreciative of our work."

Hermione watched as a crowd of elves had split off from the main group to begin the sauce and frowned. She'd been nothing but kind and had been fighting for house elf rights for over a year now and hadn't made much progress. Meanwhile, all Ron had to do was stuff his face and throw out compliments - usually at the same time - and he was some kind of king in the Hogwarts kitchen.

She couldn't really judge them though. It wasn't like she was exactly immune to Ron's particular brand of charm.

"Excuse me, miss," the square-nosed elf said, holding the cookbook up to her. "Miss' book suggests choosing toppings to maker's taste. What would Miss recommend for Master Wheezy?"

Hermione considered his question carefully. "Well… it's Ron so…"

The elf nodded knowingly. "Everything?"

"If you could."

"But it's my birthday," Ron whined a couple of hours later. "Why couldn't they let me have one day off? One day where I'm not scared to have them out of my sight! My own brothers!"

"I'm sure they didn't mean for it to go off when you opened it," Hermione replied diplomatically.

Ron scowled at her, his eyebrows still a lovely shade of pink.

"Okay so they probably did," she admitted. "But they got you a present at least."

"One day…"

So enraged by the twins' present, Ron walked straight by the entrance to the kitchen for the first time since he'd discovered it and Hermione had to grab his sleeve to stop him.

"The kitchen?" he said while Hermione tickled the pear. "Have you made me a cake?"

Hermione pretended not to notice that he sounded more apprehensive than excited by the prospect.

"You'll see." She stood on tip top behind him to cover his eyes and guide him into the room. Obviously it was move designed purely to enhance his surprise and had absolutely nothing to do with it being a wonderfully innocent excuse to touch his hair.

Having been busy all morning with sneaking back to bed and breakfast, Hermione hadn't had chance to check the pizza has survived being cooked by a small army of house elves. Even now, she couldn't see over Ron's shoulder. When had he grown so tall? The kitchen was quieter than she'd ever known it, almost silent in fact, so she took this as a good sign.

"Surprise!"

Hermione jumped to Ron's side as she removed her hands so she could see his reaction. She wasn't disappointed; he was standing, open mouthed, at the elves gathered around the central table, smiling proudly at him. In the front was Dobby, holding the biggest pizza Hermione had ever seen.

"What is that thing, Dobby?" Ron asked, moving forward to smell the plate.

"It is a pizza, sir," Dobby replied. "Miss Granger asked Dobby to make it for you and the other elves helped."

"Right. Wow." Ron blinked. "Thanks, guys," he said to the room at large and, if possibly, their smiles widened. "This is that pie thing you were on about the other day, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "Made fresh this morning."

"Dobby doesn't want to interrupt, but could Master Wheezy take the pizza."

It was only then that Hermione noticed the poor elf's legs were shaking and the beads of sweat gathering on his brow. Ron hastened to take his load from him and Dobby nearly sank to the floor. Who knew how long he'd been stood there in position, waiting for them to show up? Hermione pushed her guilt aside as she saw Ron pick a slice up by the crust between his thumb and forefinger.

Every living thing in the kitchen waited with baited breath as Ron nibbled the end of the slice. The square-nosed elf from earlier was even biting his nails.

"Say something," Hermione said in what she hoped didn't sound too much like pleading.

Ron's eyes, still framed by pink eyebrows, snapped to her as he chewed.

"This - is - incredible!" he enthused, shoving half the slice into his mouth. "'ere's 'eese an' 'et-up an' ausig-"

"Please chew," Hermione said, definitely begging this time. If he choked to death now she wondered if it would be some comfort to Mr Weasley that his youngest son had met his end braving a Muggle delicacy.

Rather than listen to her, Ron swallowed the contents of his mouth in one audible gulp. "It's all the best food in one place! Why have you kept this from me?"

"I thought you would know about it!" Hermione laughed nervously as Ron demolished a second piece, smearing sauce around his mouth in the process. Even with his jaw working over-time to chew the food he'd managed to fit in his mouth, he still looked amazing, his eyes alight with excitement and hair still ruffled from where she'd touched it.

Hermione wondered briefly if she'd lost her mind somewhere between the troll and now, but decided she didn't care. Ron was licking his lips.

"Did you make this, Dobby?" he asked.

"Dobby and the other elves, sir," explained Dobby. "Is it satisfactory, Master Wheezy?" The poor elf was practically shaking with trepidation.

"Satisfactory? It's the best thing I've ever tasted! Dumbledore needs to give you a pay rise - or, um, more work?" he added when the other elves gasped.

Without warning, Dobby jumped up onto a stool in order to fling himself at Ron. Thankfully Ron was able to move the pizza out of the way before Dobby was clinging to his neck and sobbing into his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around his tiny body to secure him and chuckled.

"Bloody mental," he mouthed at Hermione over Dobby's shoulder as he gave it a pat. "Hey, Hermione - does Harry know about this? We should take him some!"

"I'm fairly certain he does," she answered as Ron tried to eat the pizza directly off the plate he was holding up his mouth while Dobby still clung to him. "Besides, it's your present."

"'Spose," Ron mused around a mouthful. "Thanks, Hermione."

"Happy birthday, Ron."

Hermione smiled as Ron gently let Dobby down and offered him a slice. This only led to more tears and indistinguishable squeaks of gratitude from Dobby and bewildered comfort from Ron. For someone who grew up with very little it was easy to impress Ron by splashing money on his birthday presents, but Hermione knew he was more than that. Before, when she was younger and hadn't fully understood Ron's situation and bought expensive presents, she found he'd try and work out how much she'd spent and sulk if he found out. She'd thought it had meant he was spoilt or materialistic. Now she knew it came from something more like guilt that he could never spend as much on her. Taking the time to plan something like this for him meant he didn't have to worry about any of that.

Ron trying to console Dobby, still munching on pizza and only making it worse by adding more compliments, said more about who he was than his bank account, family or his clothes ever could. Hermione often wondered when her life had become a parade of oddballs, frequently starring a house elf in a tea cosy who was willing to do anything for his friends and boy who couldn't keep his shirt tucked in for more than three minutes and had won her heart without trying, but she was very glad that it had.

Thanks for reading!