"Honestly! You boys"
Hermione, again pacing, rounded on Harry, who was half asleep in one of the worn but exceedingly comfortable chairs that stood in a half-circle around the huge Gryffindor Fireplace. "Are you all dotty, or did I just get lucky"
"Hermione," Harry started, "I can't say I'm not enjoying taking the brunt for the stupidity of my entire gender, but I've got to get to bed - it's quidditch tomorrow." He stood, and laying a kind hand on her shoulder, reassured her.
"You'll work it out - Ron will come to his senses."
Hermione stopped pacing and smiled wanly.
"Thanks, Harry"
"Off to bed, then?" Harry asked on his way to the staircase.
"No -- Ron's got to come up sometime - I think I'll wait for him here." Harry smirked and disappeared up the steps leading to the boys' dormitory.

It was now 2:45 am, and Ron thought for sure that he would be walking into a common room empty of people. Much to his chagrin, however, he walked in to find Hermione dozing in one of the red velvet armchairs .
(She's tenacious, that one. I'll give her that) He thought, admiring her pretty face in the soft flickers of dying firelight. His eyes took in her wavy brown hair, in which he longed to tangle his fingers, her perfect nose which he wanted so badly to nuzzle his own freckled nose against, and her pink rosebud mouth on which he longed to plant so many more kisses like the one they'd shared earlier. An almost-grimace arose on Ron's face when he remembered the kiss, and his eyes sunk closed as a nearly identical thrill raced up his spine at the thought.
(She must've been too distracted by her outrage to jinx me after a stunt like that.) Ron thought dispiritedly. He reached a tentative hand out to touch her smooth skin, and was surprised to see Hermione's eyes open and meeting his own.
"Bloody hell," he said, turning quickly to walk away. Hermione had other ideas, however, and she grabbed his hand and pulled.
"Oh no you don't, Ronald! You're going to sit right here, and we are going to talk"
Ron again tried to pull away, saying "Oh yeah? Maybe you'd rather talk to Viktor"
"We are going to talk, like civilized human beings, Ronald." Hermione overrode him "And unless I'm mistaken, Viktor didn't try to snog me in the hall and then storm away like a child"
Ron had the decency to look abashed, and studied his scuffed, worn dress shoes. "Uh yeah...right...sorry about that, I"
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" She overrode him again, "Unless you're apologizing for being a tremendous prat "
"That IS what I'm apologizing f-" Ron tried to interrupt again, but Hermione continued overtop of him. "-and not asking me to the Yule Ball, or for walking away after a kiss like THAT," she blushed, "you've no reason to apologize"
"Oh, go on then, Hermione - don't feel you need to spare me - " Ron began, sadly and nearly sneering.
"Spare you? From what? From my feelings for you? From what we've both known was there between us for the last three years? Don't be ridiculous, Ron! We've danced around it for so long..." Hermione laid a hand overtop his , and Ron looked up hopefully, surprised to see her eyes glistening. "I'm so tired of dancing, Ron," She finished softly.
Ron stood, a new found hope capering in his eyes like flame. "Oh, surely we could just dance a little more?" He bowed his head and offered her his outstretched arm, eyes barely daring to meet hers from his peripheral vision. Hermione took it and stood, obviously surprised and a little confused. "Well, we never got a chance at the ball, you see." He said as he pulled her into him until they were face to face, his arms around her. Hermione could feel his heart hammering against her chest. "And for that," he said, "I am very sorry." He leaned down to place his slightly-parted lips against hers, this kiss much more tentative than the last. Her eyes closed, she could still feel the breath rushing from him to tickle her mouth, and she knew, however tentative, that in his kiss she could feel every speck of Ron's love for her, there on his lips and in his breath, and in the beating of his heart with hers.
Her hands wrapped around Ron's neck, Hermione danced with Ron to the tune he was softly humming into her disheveled hair, both of them knowing that the real dancing had stopped.