Note: This story is part of the Dances with Dunces story set, though it may be enjoyed separately. Visit my profile page for recommended reading order.
The asterisk (*) marks something that refers to a detail from another story in the set.

THE MOSSY BOULDER

"Can't we take a break or something? We've been at it for hours!" whined Ron, massaging his neck. Hermione huffed irritably, but looked at the clock.

"Well, I suppose we could take a twenty minute break. After all, we are half a day ahead of our study schedule," she finally conceded after a thoughtful pause. Ron instantly broke out in a smile and slammed his books shut, stacking them on top of each other into a haphazard pile. "Great! Let's go outside." He got to his feet with some difficulty, momentarily bending over to massage his stiff knees. "Coming, Harry?"

Harry yawned vocally as he stretched his arms. "Let's go!"

The three friends made their way to the sunny outside, taking the crisp air deep into their lungs and relishing the warmth of the sunshine. Even Hermione seemed glad to take a break from their study. "Let's go over to the rocks at the cliff," suggested Ron, and the other two agreed. It was too beautiful a day to waste time making decisions.

No sooner had they left the main grounds did they pass Cho, sitting at one of the stone tables in the courtyard entrance. She was alone, immersed in her study. Ron looked over at Harry as they continued walking towards the cliff, smirking when his friend scratched the back of his neck and stole a backwards glance. "Can I catch up with you two later?" Harry finally said, already starting to double back his steps.

"But by the time you do, we'll be back in the common room!" Ron pointed out, taking a bite out of the pear he had pulled out of his robes.

"Then I'll see you back there!" Harry broke out into a jog.

"Harry, wait on!" Hermione called after him, catching up.

"Oh, now what?" Ron muttered, slouching as he watched them from the short distance. He strained his ears to hear what they were saying. He had noticed lately that they had been acting a little secretive, like the night he found them both talking privately at the top of Gryffindor Tower's highest turret.* At the time, he hadn't worried too much about it, but now he was a little curious. He managed to catch some of Hermione's words. "... see you... an hour at...?" Then he saw Harry smile at her in agreement before bounding back to the main grounds.

Ron's stomach did a cartwheel. His arm dropped, smearing some pear juice on his robes. Were they meeting in secret? More importantly, why were they meeting in secret? Questions started to swim to the surface of his mind, but Hermione interrupted their progress. "Let's go," she said, "we've only got twenty more minutes before my appointment with McGonagall and you need to continue studying." She commented on the weather as they walked, but Ron had stopped listening. He was preoccupied with the battle in his head. How was he supposed to feel if Harry and Hermione were seeing each other? He should be happy for them both, he knew, so why wasn't he?

They had arrived under the shade of a boulder so enormous it would've dwarfed Hagrid, and growing all over it was lush green moss. It sat on the edge of the rocky cliff, high above the surface of the Great Lake. Ron absent-mindedly picked at the thick moss, his eyes focused somewhere between the lake's surface and the end of his nose. He was lost in thought, trying to assign words to his churning feelings. He didn't even realize Hermione had stopped talking and was studying his face with a concerned expression. "Are you okay, Ron? You seem kind of distracted." She touched his arm, and the light contact stirred him.

"What?" he mumbled, not feeling particularly motivated to do anything anymore, let alone talk.

"Are you okay?" she repeated. "Do you want to go back and find Harry?"

"Harry? No, er..." He took a deep breath and looked at her with a serious expression that deepened the crease between her brows. She seemed to be bracing herself for bad news. "Can I ask you something?" Ron finally asked.

A relieved smile formed gently on her face. "Sure." Ron could have sworn her eyes actually sparkled as she sighed this, and he could even smell sweet honeysuckle though he knew there wasn't any nearby. He inhaled slowly and deliberately before asking her, "Do you... like him?"

"Who?"

"Harry." Ron held his breath without realizing as he waited for her answer. He watched her closely and saw her eyes narrow in a frown.

"What sort of question is that? Of course I like him. You like him, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Ron retorted. "There's no question about that!" Then he softened, and turned his attention to the small bare patch from where he had picked the moss clean. "But what I mean to say... is that you two have been spending a lot of time together, you know, hanging around... and I wanted to know, just to know, you know... if you, er, like like him." There was a pause, and he almost expected her to yell at him for suspecting something so ridiculous, but he knew it wasn't an idea so completely out of the question. His fingertips were numb from rubbing against the rock, but he didn't care. He needed to look at something that wasn't Hermione. Anything but Hermione.

"Ron," she finally said, "I hardly see how that could be any of your business."

He let out an exasperated sigh. He had expected an answer; a yes or a no. He would be devastated if it had been a yes, but at least he'd know. Instead, she faced him with a maybe. Ron tossed the pear core a little way towards the cliff edge where it stopped, nestled in a tuft of grass. He felt like his insides wouldn't stop squirming until he found a definite answer. "Why not?" he asked impatiently. "My two best friends are meeting each other without me-"

"And you're feeling left out?"

He sighed, deciding to drop his usual irritable routine. He was too anxious to be demanding. "Well, no. Not really."

"Then what is it?" Hermione stared at him intently.

"Just tell me that you and Harry aren't keeping secrets from me."

"No, of course we aren't!" Hermione looked shocked at the idea that Ron suspected such a thing, even offended.

"Good," Ron mumbled under his breath as he rolled a pinch of moss between his thumb and forefinger. He stared at his feet unhappily. He still didn't have an answer and thought he probably would never find out by asking her. It required reasonable skill and tact, neither of which he felt he possessed. He flicked the moss ball onto the turf, wondering if the queasy feeling in his stomach was more fear than jealousy, a fear that Hermione might soon be spending less time with him. It must have been obvious, because no sooner had the thought entered his mind did she ask gently, "Ron, are you jealous?"

Horrified that he had been so transparent, he blurted out, "No! Why should I be?" He picked at the moss even more. He hadn't sounded very convincing. "Look, you were right," he added quickly, "it's none of my business anyway." He stared hard at the boulder, willing his ears to turn back from red. It was agony, standing there by the rocks, wondering what she might be thinking. He felt a tug at his robe sleeve. "Ron," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I thought you had an appointment to go to," he mumbled, eyes still on the boulder.

"Ron."

He turned slowly, reluctantly, to face her. "What?" he asked, looking at her somewhat apologetically, his eyes flitting between her face and other places; the lawn, her hair, the sky... But before he knew what was happening, she had leaned forward on her tip toes and kissed him. His eyelids fluttered shut automatically as he felt her hand slide confidently into his. The kiss was soft, but lingering, and somehow conveyed their profound and unmistakable fondness for each other. Then she pulled away a little, biting her bottom lip with a shy smile. It was infectious. He beamed at her - she kissed him - and for some reason he couldn't place, he wasn't feeling the least bit embarrassed about it.

Still close to him, she whispered, "You're lovely," and with that, she turned, picked up her bag and bounded back towards the castle. Ron wondered if he was imagining that spring in her step. He watched her for a moment before yelling after her, a grin permanent on his face now, "'Lovely?' Is that all?" She turned momentarily and smiled. Too far now to answer, she instead gave a wave, leaving Ron beside the mossy boulder, with a smile so broad and so bright one would think he just earned a place on the Cannons.

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