Disclaimer: Obviously, I am not J.K. Rowling so I do not own the characters or etc. If I did, I would live in a luxurious apartment overlooking the Big Ben in London and I would be a bazillionaire. But I'm not. I am living with my parents and little brother in a ranch style home in Arkansas (USA). So, as you can see, I am definitely not J.K. Rowling (as much as I'd love to be). (P.S. What I REALLY would have loved was to be in the movies, but NO, I was a toddler!) Sorry for my blubbering, please enjoy.
Ron sat in the Gryffindor common room fidgeting over his exam notes. It was almost one in the morning, and Harry and Hermione had retired to bed a few hours ago. He still had about three years worth of notes to look over, though he couldn't bring himself to open one more book to look at an even more worn-out bit of parchment. He just really needed to think- to think about Hermione, to think about whatever might be going through her bloody intelligent mind. He couldn't go back to the dorm; Harry could too easily read his expression, his mind, his noncommittal grunts, and his snores. For Merlin's sake, he could read Ron better than Hermione could read her beloved books. Because of this, Ron was pretty positive Harry already knew Ron was madly in love with their other best friend. If Ron had the guts to ask, Harry could probably even help him, but Ron was positive that it was more a girl's thing.
So there he was alone in the common room at one in the bloody morning. That was when the trouble started - when Ron finally changed his life for the better. Okay, sure, maybe it wasn't trouble. It was probably actually really a good thing, but it was certainly going to cause him trouble next time he saw Hermione. It was… a book.
It was the most un-Hermione book he had ever laid eyes on.
He hadn't meant to open it; honestly, it just kind of happened. He'd been sprawled out all over his favorite armchair, which was the one he and Harry always fought over. Of course, they did only until Hermione huffed and plopped in the chair next to them, reminding them how immature they were being. Then when Harry and Hermione grew weary and went to their dormitories, Ron noticed Hermione left her bag under her chair. He, of course, picked it up with the intention of dropping it by the bottom of the stairs, but then he changed his mind at the thought that someone might take it. But then he noticed the spine of a worn paperback sticking out of the top of the bag. He didn't think and out of curiosity, took it out.
It gave him quite a fright when he took a good look at the cover. He thought for a moment that this wasn't Hermione's book at all, but sure enough, her name was written in neat cursive inside the front cover. On the cover were a bloke and a girl, and the bloke had his arms wrapped around her waist. She gazed up at him in that sappy sort of way that his mum and dad looked at each other, or like they do in those movies that Hermione sometimes liked to watch when it was her turn to pick out the movie for movie night.
The girl's short blue dress wasn't buttoned and it was quite low cut. Ron was surprised you couldn't see her bellybutton with how it dipped. Her long auburn curls blew all over the place. The bloke was shirtless, and looked down at her like he was about to kiss her. His red hair looked tousled as well. They were on a beach with the sun setting in the distance and wind blowing just so. Ron's eyes popped out of his head even more when he caught sight of the title,'Ravished', shining inbold red letters.
He knew what it was then. He knew it was one of those trashy muggle romance novels that Fred and George liked to snatched from mum's book pile. They would read dramatically aloud to Ginny and him when they were just little kids not more than seven, at bedtime, while Percy warned that he would tell mum where her books kept disappearing to. They really used to sneak them out. From what he remembered, they were pretty graphic. Then he thought about it, she was a teenage girl and she did have her wild streaks, so it did make sense that her reading probably did, too. She was probably at her time of the month…
Ugh, women…, he thought.
Then he randomly turned to somewhere in the middle of the book and began to read:
'Suddenly, he was right there next to her, tearing at her clothes. The buttons from her dress flew across the beach and she knew she couldn't wear them again. She gave a soft whimper as he rapidly ran his hands all over her. She pushed his leather jacket back and popped his jean button. He pushed her hands away impatiently, taking the jeans off himself and tossing them away, narrowly missing the water. He then began to suck her round…'
He nearly shrieked and slammed the book closed. He felt the blood rushing to his face and his ears heating up. So Hermione was reading a book like… that. Speaking of Hermione…
He heard Hermione's soft footsteps coming down the girl's staircase. Then she came into view, rubbing her eyes and looking grumpy, as though she couldn't sleep; she was most likely too stressed about tomorrow's exams to sleep. Then Ron realized with a jolt that she probably came down when she noticed that she had forgotten her bag. He quickly shoved the book into her back and stuffed it back under the chair, only to realize she was already standing right there in a nearly see-thru pajama top and the shortest shorts he'd ever seen. He had to admit she looked hot.
She was tired, but not tired enough to miss the fact he had just hid something in her bag."What're you doing, Ron?" She asked before looking at her bag and realizing what he had seen. "Oh, that's- uh, that's Ginny's she- uh, left it on my, uh, bed yesterday." Her brown eyes tried to avoid his and she shuffled nervously on her feet. He could tell she was lying and softly laughed. Unfortunately, this was not really a good move as her temper flared instantly.
"What? Why are you laughing? I'm telling the truth. I swear!" That made Ron laugh even harder.
"Oh, stop Hermione. You are a terrible liar! Ginny reads stuff sort of like this, but not this extreme! She wouldn't read this if Voldemort himself tied her down and used the cruciatus curse on her! She wouldn't read anything that- ahem- interesting." Instantly, he received a good smack on the head with the book in question. "Ouch! Hey, sorry. Okay? I honestly didn't know what it was so I-"
"You took it out of my bag and read it, completely invading my privacy!" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and looking up at Ron. He at least had the decency to look ashamed; he began wobbling on his feet, which Hermione found… cute.
"I said I was sorry," he mumbled, looking like a little kid apologizing to his mum for stealing from the cookie jar. "Besides," he smirked again. "I think we both know you're just upset because I discovered what you've been reading during your- uh, period." He chuckled.
"Ron!"
And with that being said, he took the book from her hands and opened to another page and began reading aloud dramatically.
"C'mere." He hooked a finger under her chin, guiding her face to meet his, and then proceeded to kiss her, softly, slowly, wonderfully, as if to reassure her that he was telling the truth. That he'd always be there, and always love her, and she was the only thing on earth that really mattered to him."
He looked down at Hermione again, only to realize that as the moments went by, her face grew redder and redder- and for some reason, his did, too.
"I still can't believe you read these." He mumbled, trying to break the awkward silence that has been swarming them for the past few moments.
She then collapsed in the armchair behind her and huddled her knees up too her chest, mumbling something into them and she looked up at him. He felt like he would faint when he saw her brown eyes glistening, on the verge of tears.
"I said, 'Maybe I wouldn't have to read those if someone would make my life more… interesting.'" Her face was about the color of a tomato now. He looked down at her incredulously. She wasn't saying what he thought she was saying- was she? The only thought he could respond with was,
"Well, I'm pretty sure Vicky could help you with that, don't you?" He said bitterly, with that mischievous smirk of his. Her embarrassment turned to fury in two seconds flat.
"God, frikkin', bloody hell, Ronald!" She yelled so loudly that she could have awoken the entire castle. She seemed to realize how loud she was being, because she lowered her voice, if only marginally, for a moment for the next bit. "I said I wanted someone to make my life more interesting, Ronald! By that I meant you!" She jabbed her tiny finger into his chest. "What could you not understand about that? I have tried and tried and tried to be subtle about it, but someone can't get it through their thick head that I know you like me! I like you, too! I'm pretty frikkin' sure I'm bloody madly in love with you, and you just stand there all this time staring at me like I'm in a zoo! You're just so bloody thick all the time that-"
She was cut off as he urgently pressed his lips against hers, running one large, pale hand through her hair and the other one lifting her smooth, bare leg around him. Before he could, she'd already wrapped her other leg around his waist and was gasping for air. Then she proceeded to press her own lips to his feverishly, and he lowered into the armchair behind him, right by the glowing fire. She straddled over his lap and nearly pinned him against the back of the chair, running her smaller hands through his red hair, trying to get as close to him as humanly possible. He slowly slid his tongue into her mouth, which she graciously invited. When they finally broke the kiss for air, Ron smirked down at her and murmured,
"So you want me to make your life more interesting?" He grabbed her bum with his hands. "That shouldn't be a problem."
Author's Note: Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Just so you know, I am in desperate need for a beta so if anyone is up for the job, please let me know ASAP! I got the idea from a wonderful one-shot I read and this chapter was a lot of what was in it, but I cannot remember what it is called so if anyone knows, please tell me so I can properly thank them. I am taking it in an entirely different direction, though, and if you like riddles and mysteries and romance and angst and etc. then you may like this. But I am still QUITE young and I enjoy critique and any type of feedback. Although I will not state how young I am, I will say this: I write all the time, but I have no clue if I am any good at all, and I love to do it. I stay up every night until the wee hours of the morning reading and writing and I have gotten the Good Writer's Award multiple times at my school. Please tell me if I am good or not and some tips. I would really enjoy hearing from you. I am also very nervous about this. I know you are probably getting annoyed at my venting and explaining so thank for reading and PLEASE review!
