Author's note: This was a challenge that my awesome friend Skittlehog issued! It was a very interesting one, but quite difficult actually… so I hope it is written to your satisfaction! I enjoyed writing this one, so here it is!!

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Length: one-shot

Genre: HUMOR! Romance

Era: Hogwarts

Rating: 15 plus, T, R…

Guidelines:

1. Really get inside Ron's mind

2. Twins make an appearance ("words of wisdom")

3. The color yellow

4. Dancing (not a dance, just dancing)

5. Hermione drags Ron into doing something he only does because he really likes her.

6. Tension lol (not yet together)

7. Something that has to do with food goes wrong.

This was especially hard because I'm a girl, and to get inside a boy's mind, and that boy being Ron… well, I hope you like it!

This is first person POV, with Ron narrating! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing that belongs to JK! Uh… I'll send her the unidentified yellow jiggly substance, for bonus points, you know.

Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z

Unidentified (but edible!) Yellow Jiggly Substance

A pinch of salt. Done.

A dash of pepper. Done.

A finger-length of mint leaves. Done.

A tbsp of paprika.

…………"What the bloody hell is a tbsp?!" I yelled at- well, at no one in particular.

I'm alone, so… yeah.

This is nuts. Insane. Completely stupid and… pointless.

Well, not pointless. It's worthwhile. I'm not doing this for no reason. There is a reason. It's really, really important… stop laughing!!

And what the hell is a tbsp?!

Why am I doing this?! I don't know.

No, I DO know.

It's all Hermione's fault!!

See, today….

Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S Z S

We were sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, on the couches… all red and comfortable and warm… by the roaring, toasty fire… where was I?

Oh yes.

Hermione.

She was sitting across from me, reading a book. Like always, bloody Hogwarts: A History for the umpteenth time. She should try it upside down for once; stir things up a bit.

Well I remember thinking how cute she looked with the fire dancing on her face, reflecting across her cheeks…

I swear I lost it. I just buried my head in my arms and repeatedly pinched my arm to the point that Hermione raised her eyebrows at me and asked me if I was feeling sane today. I just stared in response, like a lovesick idiot.

It was ridiculous.

She rolled her eyes and stood up and left. My depression kicked in.

…. as did Fred and George, into my personal bubble.

I'm serious, 3 feet means 3 feet!!

… Did I mention I'm not feeling sane today? Hermione was right. (As always.) And no, I did not down a bottle of firewhiskey.

Anyways, Fred and George were pestering me about love and romance, to the point that I got up and left.

The rest of the day was bloody awful. I couldn't even talk to Hermione without blubbering nonsense like a fool.

In Transfiguration, we sat next to each other as usual, but didn't say a word. I kept staring at Hermione all through class. I singed my hair three times and turned Seamus into a frog, but that's not all.

…Did I mention Hermione makes a cute reindeer? Yeah, she does.

"It was an accident, I swear," I'd told her.

She just shook her branch ears, narrowed her angry eyes at me, and lifted her hooves. Not the response I wanted. McGonagall transfigured her back after much scolding.

"Ronald Weasley, I don't know what is up your butt today, but you'd better get over it!" the human Hermione huffed and left.

"I swear I didn't mean to!" I yelled after her, though it was useless.

In Potions, she kept giving me odd side glances, and every time I caught her eyes, we'd both blush and look away.

Oh man, it was awkward. Lunch was the same story. Harry kept poking my shoulder and nodding towards Hermione, who was playing with her food.

And she was quiet; her eyes were downcast… Okay, this was bloody insane.

She must have cast a charm on me. Yep, that's it. It has to be. When else would I notice these things? I never do! Fire reflecting in her eyes? Quiet demeanor, playing with her food, eyes downcast?? I need to look away. Busy myself. I need to calm down and breathe.

No, scratch that.

I need professional help. Desperately.

SSSSSS

"Ickle Ronniekens has lady trouble?" Fred and George chuckled.

I didn't have the time nor the patience to deal with these strangers. In the strange sense of the word. "I'm serious guys, what should I do?!"

"You should woo her-"

"Romance her-"

"Sweep her off her feet-"

"Quite literally! It's easy, you just-"

George grabbed hold of Fred's waist, and Fred rested a hand on his twin's shoulder and batted his eyelashes at him.

"Oh baby!" Fred said in a falsetto.

George winked at him and began twirling him and leading him across the room.

Just the sight of them made me want to gag. And gauge my eyeballs out. And yet… the idea of dancing with Hermione? It had potential…

Just then, George led Fred into a dip, and they both fell over in a painful heap.

… or not. Scratch that.

Well?" George asked, breathless.

"No way," I said.

Fred huffed, and they sat on either side of me.

"Okay. No dancing. No problem-" Fred began.

"Just come up with something else-"

"Something better-"

"Something she wouldn't expect-"

"Do something she'll love-"

"Work for it-"

"Like what?" I asked. This was getting on my nerves and getting me nowhere.

"Look. Ron. Little brother. Oh innocent one. Inexperienced one. Naïve-"

"Get to the point!!" I yelled.

"What Fred is trying to say is-"

"Women are like pancakes," Fred finished.

"…. Huh?" What in bloody hell? Why does no one believe me when I say these two are nuts? Insane? Abnormal? Not related to me? Trust me, I'm not nuts. Anyways-

"Women are like pancakes," he repeated.

I snorted. "What, they're not good unless covered in butter, syrup, and whipped cream?"

George winked and hooted. "That sounds kinky."

Fred put on a straight face. "Yeah. But no, that's not why."

"Okay…"

George patted my shoulder. I don't need pity!! "Don't worry. You will be enlightened."

"You'll realize soon what we mean."

"What you mean," George pointed out.

"No, we," Fred corrected.

"Fred? I don't even know what you mean."

"Neither do I."

"Lovely," I said, rolling my eyes. "Now any real help?" I asked.

"That was your help."

I glared at them.

"Or you can cook for her."

"I don't know how to cook!" I cried.

"Exactly."

"Unexpected."

"Genius."

"She'll love it."

"Ta ta!" They waved.

…. And they left.

…. And that's why I'm now wondering, what in bloody hell is a tbsp!!

"It's a tablespoon, in the drawer!" a voice said.

Oops, I guess I yelled that out loud. Wait! Who answered me? I turned-

"Hermione!!" I clutched my heart. "You're early!"

"Sorry, I was anxious. I got your note-" Yep. I sent her a note, saying to meet in the Room of Requirement at eight.

But it's seven, bloody seven, there's a reason I said eight and not seven, I need time! TIME!!

"Uh- I can leave and come back-" she turned to go, eyes downcast.

Damn, she's sad. Not a good start… "No!" I caught her wrists. "Stay. I'm not done though."

She nodded and sat in a chair that appeared out of nowhere. (Hey, it's the Room of Requirement. It does that.)

Damn, now I have to find a tablespoon and deal with Hermione being here early. Bloody great. So I set to cooking.

After much explosion and taste testing gone wrong (chocolate cake is not supposed to taste like spinach) I was able to concoct some sort of… edible... substance. Unidentifiable, but edible. At least, I think it is. I hope it is. I desperately hope it is.

I brought the first tray out, fully intending to set it on the nicely set table. I approached Hermione; she smiled at me. I promptly tripped over the rug and fell. Food flew everywhere: the walls, the chairs, the floor, Hermione.

"Umm… you can have mine," I mumbled. Hermione nodded and I could tell she was trying to hold back her laughter.

Great. Go ahead and mock me. Laugh. Scoff. See if I bloody care.

I went back to the kitchen, bright red. Purple, even. Damn Weasley blush.

My second attempt to impress her with my divine cooking skills was… also scary.

She poked the… jiggly… substance. "Is it supposed to be yellow?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course not!" I said. "It's just- just- I don't know," I muttered, sighing.

She nodded and pushed her plate away from her.

"I'm sorry," I said desperately. "I just wanted to do something for you, but I didn't know what! I mean, you're so amazing that I didn't think anything would be good enough for you… and there was the fireplace, and- and- the awkward- and then the reindeer, and Fred and George, and the dancing- and mmph!"

I couldn't finish my long, pathetic attempt at an apology because Hermione's lips were on mine. I was shocked, but kissed back. It was way better than I imagined.

It was amazing.

We pulled away after a few minutes.

"Oh Ronald!" she cried. "You could have just told me how you felt."

I gaped at her. "You.. You mean that's all I had to do?" Why was I suffering all day then? I could have bloody-

"Yes! Athough this meal was an, erm, nice effort."

And then she hugged me. Boy this cooking idea was bloody brilliant!! (Though I am never doing it again.)

We started to clean up when I remembered I had a tart.

Yes I, Ron Weasley, had baked a strawberry tart, covered in whipped cream. And yes, laugh all you want, but I'm the one with the girl, while you're sitting there and channeling your pining through my pitiful love story.

Sorry, that was uncalled for.

Still… I've got my love! Finally.

Back to the cake. Hermione prodded it with her knife and it was too late.

It exploded in her face.

And before I could laugh, her lips were on mine in a berry-ish kiss. Our arms wrapped around each other in a creamy tangle. Her lips tasted of strawberry syrup and whipped cream… and suddenly I understood what Fred meant.

Women are like pancakes. They taste good with syrup and whipped cream.

A/N: Yes, silly, I know. I hope you liked it though! No flames please.

Review please and tell me what you thought?