DISCLAIMER:

This is the last chapter. You'd think I would consider using this for profit when I kept on saying on previous chaps that I won't? HP series belongs to JK Rowling! Story's mine (some part from Rumiko Takahashi..) ,;

Around Their Necks

Ron straightened his dress robe, embarrassed. The way his mother had run to him and hugged him, one would think he was the school's valedictorian, when in fact, he wasn't even close to that. Nevertheless, it made his heart swell with so much pride; it was really a triumph to be able to shout to the world that he has finished school.

"Go look for your friends to say goodbye. We're leaving in a few minutes." He remembered his mum telling him after following his dad who went out to get their newly revived enchanted Ford Anglia.

He scanned the Great Hall for those two faces. Actually, just the one face he had to bid goodbye to, since the custody over Harry was trustfully assigned to their family by the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore, himself. The Boy Who Lived was not to be required to come back with the Dursleys, although he had to be under a guardian's care until he reached a certain age where it would be legal for a young wizard to live on his own and support himself.

Leaving. He sighed so heavily as though he was carrying the whole world on one shoulder. Within a few minutes he would leave Hogwarts for good; They would be leaving for their futures. And Hermione, she's probably be leaving for life. All right, that sounded a bit like she was never coming back…but Ron thought, maybe there was little, if none at all, chance that Hermione wouldn't be snatched once again by Viktor Krum the moment they see each other at Bulgaria.

Bulgaria. He breathed heftily out his nose. Why did Hermione even consider accepting such an offer? There were other better choices. He guessed it only went to show that Hermione likes guys who are…well, everything but him. Although, he couldn't really remember when Hermione ever mentioned about accepting a job offer at Bulgaria.

The redhead was too engrossed with his own thoughts that he accidentally ran into Draco Malfoy and his allies.

"Hey Weasley!" The blond boy shouted that made Ron start to face him. "So, what's it gonna be next for you?" He raised his eyebrows on Ron's undistinguished look, everyone nearby turned to watch.

"What do you mean, Malfoy?" he asked crossly.

"Well, are you going to work for the Ministry as a messenger or just hung yourself with that stupid scarf?" He laughed evilly that was echoed by Pansy, Crab, and Goyle's hilarity. "We know you're poor Weasley, you don't really need a sign for everyone to realize." Malfoy added in between his mirth.

For almost three months that Ron had been wearing Hermione's gift, he had learned to ignore whatever comments he would receive about his scarf. It was a mark of maturity for some, stubbornness for the others, but for Ron, it was a mark of something else only he feels. He gave Malfoy an impish smirk, rolled his eyes, and turned around to walk away. He spotted Hermione on one corner and started to walk briskly to approach her, when suddenly he felt strangled and was pulled back. Everyone started to laugh as he lost his balance, and he could feel the cloth around his neck restraining him from crashing down the floor. He spun around to see Malfoy and his group laughing zealously, even coughing in between as they try to catch up with their breaths. He followed his stare on the direction where the other end of his seemed to have caught into something. One of the holes on his favorite item was stuck with a decoration dangling on the wall. He turned crimson as he marched slowly to untangle his scarf from the ornament. "Blasted!" he cursed the wall under his breath.

All of a sudden, Ron felt being dragged once more. This time, a familiar touch on his hand. It was Hermione, who practically jostled him away the crowd, behind a large pillar on the far corner of the hall. "That's it." she sounded annoyed, "Take it off." The brown-head girl ordered as bossily as she tried to grab her Christmas gift draped around his neck.

"What!" he backed away, completely confused on the way she was acting.

"That's enough. Take that rubbish off!" she still struggled to reach the cloth even when he fought her hands with his.

"I don't want to take it off." Ron argued back, grabbing her by the wrist. "And don't call it rubbish." He said defensively.

Hermione retreated her arms from Ron's grip and stomped her feet childishly. "Ron!" she growled.

He straightened his scarf and dusted it off with his hand, "No. You can't let me." He crossed his arms before his chest as if challenging her to make another move.

"It's not even winter anymore!" she said logically.

And he had to have an answer to that, "But it's not warm."

Then, she looked betrayed, "You said it was!" because he really did when he was questioned once, twice, or who knew how many when he was wearing it during winter.

"I didn't…did I?" He tried reasoning, until he remembered he might have.

This only made her more exasperated, "Look. If you don't want to spare me from humiliation, would you at least spare yourself? Come on, be selfish, you're used to that." she said, not really thinking of what words would come out her mouth.

He was taken aback. "You're being humiliated! I'm selfish!" Honestly! "As far as I know, I'm the one wearing this scarf and I never told anybody this is from you." But he should not have said that because it wasn't true…not that he intended lying.

"Harry and Ginny know!" she only informed, but with voice higher than it should have been.

"Well…then…just two persons." He was getting more confused, What's her problem, really?

But she continued nagging—he was used to that. "And even if you are the one wearing that, I did not only give that scarf, I was the one who made that too!"

He only continued reasoning—she's supposed to have gotten used to that as well, "Who knows you were the one who made this? It's only Harry and Ginny."

"But it still hurts me! When they tease you and that scarf, they tease me too." She said shyly, but with all honesty.

But he was an insensitive prat—like she always tell him, "Of course not."

"You are so insensitive, Ron!" and she knew how long an argument about his being insensitive would lead to, until eventually they would forget why they were even arguing. She can't let that happen that moment, because, truth be told, Hermione has really had enough of him being humiliated because of her gift. Although, she was quite impressed of how he has been standing up for it. Still, he didn't deserve to be picked on just because he wanted to please her by wearing that hand-made…she wasn't even sure if she'd want to refer to her so called masterpiece a 'scarf'. Hermione jumped forward and grasped a better part of the fabric.

"What are you doing?" Ron was mortified this time.

"I said take it off!" She was pulling it off his neck.

He tilted back, "Stop it, Hermione. You've gone mental!" and pushed her, though very lightly, she stopped.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" He realized that tears were welling on her brown eyes, "You like it that people laugh at something I did." she accused, disgusted. "Oh, look, I'm not Ms. perfect anymore! I'm not a know-it-all, I can't live by that reputation anymore because I don't even know how to make a blasted scarf!"

She's going to cry. She's going to cry and he would need to hug her, or uncomfortably pat her head. Would that be good or bad? He decided he didn't want their class valedictorian to shed tears on graduation day just because of their traditional silly argument. "You do." Ron said assuredly.

"Right." She sniffed, obviously holding back the tears. "Of course." She smiled crossly, and he knew that a sarcastic reply would follow this, "In fact," she raised her voice, it's coming, "you're already wearing the blasted scarf I made."

He rolled his blue eyes, and gave out the longest sigh he could ever muster, but before he could debate back, she had jumped into him again trying to unwrap the scarf from his neck. He was going to stop her, push her slightly once again, but he froze. He smelled her perfume and felt her body so close to him. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she strived with untangling his scarf and she hasn't even noticed. His hands absently made their way on the sides of her slim waist. "Okay." He whispered, being able to maintain a firm voice. It was their dancing position. "Maybe I'd take it off."

She trembled against his touch, slowly turned pink on the cheeks as she realized how awkward their position was. "What?"

"I'd take it off…ifffff…" he let the last word linger, as his eyes got drawn into her. He suddenly wanted to kiss her so bad.

"Ifffff…?" she echoed, sounding really hopeful.

Confess. He heard his voice from his head. "If you would keep your arms around my neck like this…then I wouldn't need a scarf." He heard his voice from his mouth. Did he really say that?

She was speechless, apparently surprised on his declaration. How silly. On second thought, how romantically silly.

Confess. Do it before someone else does. "There's something that you should know, and I've been trying to tell you but everytime I do, something or someone just keeps on spoiling the moment…and no, I can't do this some other time, not specially since you're leaving…not just leaving…for Bulgaria, if one should add…"

"Ron…" she interrupted, wanting to dispute his statement.

He rolled his eyes on her again, "'Mione, shut up." He ordered with a pleading tone.

"I beg…" she was going to protest on how rude it was to tell her off. Not just because they were bestfriends didn't mean he could talk to her that way. She was a girl and he should respect her…blah blah blah…

"No." Not her speech this time, but his. "Just keep your arms where they are and let me finish before you say anything." He warned as she tried to pull away. His stern voice seemed to make her obey. "I've been rehearsing this and I know once you start saying something, my speech might not just make any sense." With that, she brightened up, her eyes were flashing with interest as she anticipated with his rehearsed talk. She was looking at him with so much intensity that his heart suddenly felt like jumping out of his chest, and butterflies were flying around his stomach. He swallowed. Mental blackout! What to say?

"Well?" she persuaded, "My arms are getting weary, you know, you've grown so much…plus the fact that people are staring." Both of her statements were true. He was a lot taller than her that her arms were stretched full-length just to grant his request to keep that position, not to mention awkward. And people indeed started staring. All were looking pale as ghosts in shock. Who wouldn't? Ron and Hermione, the bickering pair of Hogwarts standing in front of each other with Hermione's arms around Ron's neck and his on her waist. What has gone wrong with the wizarding world?

You're a Gryffindor. You have asked her to the ball. You have given her the gift. Now, you're not going to let this moment pass and meet her someday and realize that it's too late. "I love you." Well, that was a bit abrupt, she almost had missed it. Or maybe she really had. She was staring back at him, chewing on her lips as if still waiting for him to spill. "Say something?"

Her brows furrowed. "That's it? You've been rehearsing that?"

Oh, that explains. "Well, not that exactly. Should've been a little longer, but at least that's the bottom line. Just don't make me take the scarf off or you'll have to hold me like this all the time. I love this scarf. It makes me feel that I'm special to you. I mean, you bought something for Harry and Ginny last Christmas, but you made one for me. I feel extra special, because you never really made anything for anyone…except for the elves, but that doesn't count, or at least I refuse to count that. I hope I'm not taking you completely by surprise with all these…"

"No. I got used to it." Oh no. He knew Viktor had always been sugar-tongued with her right from the start. Before someone else does, yeah right. She smiled on the look on his face. "I've been imagining this maybe as long as you've been rehearsing."

And it took a while until he finally absorbed what she meant. "You knew?"

"What's with the surprised look? You always said so yourself, I'm a know-it-all." She raised an eyebrow on him, and he was speechless for a few more moments, "What?"

"I'm torn between keeping the scarf and letting you go." Of course he knew which was better, but she was obviously getting tired.

"You said the scarf was as good as this." She shrugged.

He frowned. "But you're going away."

"Says who?" she looked surprised.

He curled his lips as if saying that he's not buying the expression she just pulled up "You're training in Bulgaria."

"Am I? Have I accepted an offer as such? I don't quite remember. You didn't accept anything on my behalf, did you?"

"You mean to say…" his eyes were widening in clear pleasure as the confirmation he wanted to hear could be just a word away.

"Nope."

He grinned and pulled her closer, "Staying?"

"Like this?" she looked thoughtful, "Tempting offer."

"Biting the apple?" He asked playfully.

She smiled weakly, "Ron, I did accept an offer to train in Alaska."

"Alaska!"

"Well, it's far from Viktor, to say the least."

"Unobjectionable. But, 'Mione…I just…I just confessed. We're supposed to live happily ever after." Or so that's what muggle fairy tales say. Shouldn't she have a strong belief on that since she's a muggle?

"It's just for six months."

"Six months! I won't even last a day without you." The words just slipped from his mouth, and the tip of his ears went red as he realized what he just said.

"Summer vacations are two months. We've had about six since first year and I see you alive." She reasoned but was completely amused all the same.

"Can you last six months without me?" What was with him suddenly being coy with her?

"It'll be a struggle but your scarf would help me on that." Well, she was responding in the same way.

"Don't flirt with another guy." He said worriedly.

Her laugh was trembling...as though confused whether to take him seriously or ridiculously. "What! Don't flirt with other girls!"

"All right. For six months, it's scarves around our necks…but after that…"

"Arms?" she guessed, as her fingers played with his hair on his nape.

"No."

She gave him a confused look, "What then?"

"Around your neck," he leaned closer, "I'd give you kisses."

"Ron!" she pulled her arms off him and teasingly slapped his shoulders. But deep-inside, both were longing to start counting the days off until the end of the sixth month. Kisses around the necks? That should be extra nice.

AUTHOR's NOTE:

Finally! I hope you liked it…It was completely fluff, but I'm not very sure if it met your expectations (if you have set one, that is.)..reviews please..

And I would like to thank the following people who have devoted their time following this fic and giving extra effort of hitting the tiny button below and typing heart-warming reviews…I really appreciate it! I hope you'd also take time to read and review my other fics and the ones to come (I'll be posting a new one soon, hopefully.) And for those who have checked my other fics, thanks a bunch!

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