A/N: This story is for aliasagent over at LiveJournal who requested R/Hr fic on her Holiday Wishes wishlist. I had one version written and...my computer ate it. So please let me know what you think of this one, okay?
"Ron?" A heavily accented voice inquired. Ron turned as a hand tapped him on the shoulder to see Fleur standing in front of him, head on one side. "A dance?"
Ron swallowed. Fleur had been dancing with each of the Weasley brothers, in no particular order, and apparently he was next. He could feel his ears going red.
"Sure," he began, "I'd lov--"
He stopped mid-sentence. A ways behind Fleur he had spotted a very familiar figure glaring a truly frightening glare. If it was anyone but Hermione he might have labeled the look jealousy. As it was it could perhaps be loathing. Fury. Severe annoyance.
"Er, save me a dance?" He asked, turning what he knew must be crimson. Fleur gave a light, amused laugh.
"But of course." She said, and swept on to the twins, who were standing together by the buffet table.
Ron strode over to Hermione, annoyed.
"What was that?" He asked.
"What was what?" She replied.
"The evil eye you were just giving me."
Hermione turned slightly pink.
"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about Ron."
"Come on Hermione."
"I honestly don't know--"
"You and Fleur are all chummy now, right?" He interrupted. "Now that she cried all over Bill? You and mum both stopped being nasty to her after that. So that can't be what it was about."
"That you were going to dance with Fleur you mean?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"Yeah." Ron replied, staring at her, annoyed and perplexed. "So what is it? You've just decided to shoot me death glares every time you spot me?"
"Ron, I wasn't --"
"Right, okay then. Fine." Ron said, annoyed. Fleur was standing on the edge of the dance floor, chatting with a few of the wedding guests. "I'll just go get my dance --"
"Alright, I was!" Hermione blurted quickly. Ron turned back around on the spot and raised an eyebrow.
"Right. Why?"
"Oh, honestly Ron, no reason! I was just -- Oh never mind!"
Ron heaved a sigh and raised his eyes to the heavens. "No reason?" He asked, speaking slowly as though perhaps Hermione herself was a bit slow.
"Yes." Hermione said, turning pinker still. Ron had a growing, anticipatory, nervous feeling in his gut that he tried to ignore and blame on to much wedding cake.
"Fine then!" Ron said. "No reason! So I'll just go dance with her --"
"She's dancing with George now." Hermione pointed out immediately. Ron turned and saw that this was indeed true. He heaved a sigh and turned back to Hermione.
"Er, it was a lovely wedding wasn't it?" Hermione asked tentatively. Ron glared at her.
"If you're going to try and make small talk you could at least tell me why you were trying to put a hole in me with your eyes two minutes ago."
"Honestly Ron, you're being ridiculous, I was not--"
"Oh just shut up if you're not going to tell me!" Ron said angrily.
The pair sat in huffy silence for a few minutes, watching the couples twirl by on the floor. Ron wondered, vaguely, why he was even still standing here with Hermione.
"It's lovely music." She tried again. He glared at here, she cast a bewilderingly annoyed look at him, and they both went back to their respective silences.
Finally the last few strains of music played and Ron heaved an inward sigh of relief. He hadn't even taken a step when Hermione blurted out from behind him, "I just think it's stupid how completely infatuated you are with her!"
He didn't have to ask who "her" was.
"Come on Hermione!" He half-shouted, forgetting to keep his voice low as his anger mounted. "She's my brother's wife! My sister-in-law! The new bride! I thought it was polite to dance with the bride! I was trying to do the polite thing! Isn't that what you always want? For me to be polite?"
"The polite thing, Ronald, would be to ask me to dance!"
There was a sudden, ringing silence. Ron felt his ears go alarmingly red, and saw Hermione turn a very bright shade of pink. He looked at his feet, his gut squirming.
"Sorry." Hermione said very quietly. "Sorry, you're right. That would absolutely be the polite thing to do. You should go."
"Er, Hermione," He said slowly, feeling his ears go redder still and his stomach start squirming in double time, "d-did you...I mean, if you wanted...erm, what I meant was... look doyouwantodancewithme?"
"Oh," said Hermione, beaming, "I'd love to."
A/N: I've been wanting to write a story were Hermione was going, "Come on you idiot, get it together." And here it is! I mean, she isn't screaming it, but come on, it's there! Right? Tell me what you thought! Actually I might revise or add on to this one later, as it looks like it would be a fun thing to explore. :)