A/N: Thank you all for reading!
Disclaimer: I am not rich because of Harry Potter therefore I do not own Harry Potter. (Actually I'm not rich at all……..)
Ron and Hermione entered the dark pub and sat down at the bar. Ron ordered a large firewhiskey, Hermione ordered a small butterbeer. "Oh come on Hermione! We are not thirteen anymore!"
"Ron I don't feel like drinking. Plus I don't feel like drinking alcohol every night." Hermione said looking at her butterbeer and staring at the light brown liquid.
"So," Ron started, tensing up, "have you had a chance to think about the upcoming Ball?"
Hermione felt her skin crawl, as she took a sip from her butterbeer she said, "No, I haven't had a chance to think about the Ball, with everything that's been going on."
"What's been going on?" Ron asked confused.
"Oh," Hermione didn't think about what she was saying, "um… well, what I meant was, you know, catching up with work."
"I thought…" Ron didn't finish his sentence. "Hermione," his voice hardened a little, "are you hiding something from me?"
Hermione was shocked at this, "No, no of course not." She knew that Ron wouldn't drop this so easily. "Take me home, I'm tired."
Ron paid for the drinks and Apperated, not to the girls' flat but to his own.
Hermione looked at the dark brown door with the golden number nineteen nailed to the front. "Ron this is-"
"I know, come in.: he replied coldly.
Hermione walked in tentively.
"Ginny won't bother us here." Ron said, locking the door.
Hermione turned around. "What?"
Ron came close and stared at Hermione. "Hermione, is something going on between you and Harry?"
This is not what Hermione expected. "What?" She repeated stupidly.
"You call today sounding worried wanting to talk to Harry. You are extremely quiet and uncomfortable when we are alone. You always want to get away from me. What's going on?" Ron said looking at her, pleading.
"Ron, I'm not uncomfortable when I'm alone with you. On the other hand I love being around you."
"Yeah," Ron said incredulously, "that's why you-"
"That's why I go on dates with you!" Hermione blurted out.
"Dates?" Ron asked totally taken aback, "You consider them 'dates'?"
"Why shouldn't I?! We are alone, we go out to dinner, to have a drink, you take me to clubs. Why shouldn't it be called a 'date'?!" The tables turned. Now she was the interrogator and Ron the one in the spotlight.
"It's not that, but I thought you thought that we were just out as friends." He answered defensively.
Images flashed through her mind.
Ron in a bathrobe, Ron with his shirt off after playing a round of Quiddich with his brothers, Ron helping Hermione put on a necklace that he had given her on her nineteenth birthday, Ron laughing at something the twins had said, Ron sitting next to her during dinner and his leg gently brushing against hers.
She looked at Ron and threw herself at him throwing him against the door and knocking the air out of him. Ron did not know what had happened until he blinked several times. Without a second thought he wrapped himself around her and guided her towards the couch. She followed not caring where they were going. They kissed for a good deal of time until they had to come up for air.
"Wow." Ron said smiling like a mad man.
Hermione looked up at him; she brushed some hair from his forehead. "I know."
Ron took this as an incentive to continue. They didn't know how long they took but they stayed like that for most of the night.
A/N: You must be thinking "What does the letter say?" And "Finally!" About the letter, I decided to make that the central motivation in the next chapter instead of this so I'm sorry for those who wanted to know what was in the letter. And yes, I know, I took for ever for the last bit to happen. :D!!
