Not So Innocent VI

by CuteDiva



Previously: Fleur Delacour attempts and fails to befriend a devasted Hermione, who has just realized that she is in love with none other than her best friend, Ron Weasley.



In her weeks of confusion, Hermione found solace only in schoolwork and Harry. She didn't speak a word of Ron to Harry, believing he probably already knew. There was a silent agreement between them not to discuss the matter.



Ron threw himself head-first into Quidditch, practicing for hours at a time, even after practice was over and the team dragged themselves back into the house for cold showers. Harry had been a hesitant leader at first, too shy to flirt with his new power over the team. But gradually, he became more confident, practically working the team into the ground like Oliver Wood's own Mini-Me. Ron accepted the abuse as a challenge, an invitation to prove himself. He wasn't going to settle for being the first underachiever of the Weasley children.



On one rainy day, practice ended a few minutes early. Ron stayed behind, flying through an obstacle course of vines held high in the air that the team had conjured up. The rain pounded at him, drenching his red hair and causing his shirt and jeans to stick to him almost skintight. A small thin figure that was also semi-drenched walked into the pitch.



"Ron!" Hermione yelled. "Ron, come down! I reckon you'll catch a nasty cold in this storm!"



"No gains without pains," he yelled back "I need to work on my Close-Proximity Maneuvering Techniques!"



Deep inside, Ron wanted to come down, to give it a rest, to just pour out everything he was feeling. He realized he didn't need so much practice. He had just been trying to avoid thinking, avoid feeling. He wanted to avoid wanting her, because he'd never felt this way before. It scared him to the point that it almost made him hyperventilate, like a million needles were stuck in his chest. Hermione probably didn't feel the same way, but it would've been even worse if she did. Then what?



"Ron, please, come down," Hermione said, not yelling this time. She was almost pleading.



Ron glided to the ground softly, then stood, not looking her in the eye. His head was down, because he didn't want to look at her. Crap, she looks hot in the rain, he thought, before he could stop himself. After staring at her, he stuttered, "What do you want?"



"To talk. Let's go somewhere we won't catch pneumonia."



They walked into the castle. Hermione shivered from the cold. Protectively, Ron put his arm around her, trying to keep her warm. He realized what he was doing, but he kept the arm there. Hermione shivered again, but not from the cold, but because he was near her. She could smell his hair. It smelled like oranges and cinnamon spices, really clean and fresh like summer but with the essence of winter. They walked into an empty threshold, and sat down on the stone floor.



There was silence. "Um, are you still cold?" Ron asked, trying to breach the eery quiet.



"A little. Ron, about that night in the common room-"



He gulped hard. "Yes?"



"I, um, I'm not sure if I just imagined it, or if this is a real issue, but, I, I mean, we, were we about to, um..."



Hermione was crashing and burning. She wanted so bad to just be able to tell him, to just be able to get it out in the open. This was Ron, her best friend. Her crazy, goofy, ignorant pal. The same boy who had made her run into an empty bathroom crying when she was 11. The same boy who later saved her life. The same boy who jealously tried to protect her, questioning the intentions of any other male who dared look at her, even though he hadn't even realized she was a girl until just last year. All these emotions of anger and happiness and confusion just flooded her at once.



His breath grazed her chin now. He was so close, probably because of the cold. Wow, he smelled so good. She closed her eyes, just enjoying the silence that spoke volumes. She wondered what he was thinking, feeling at this very moment, why his arm was around her so tightly. She leaned forward, not thinking, just feeling something she'd never felt before. It was like her heart was about to explode in her throat and like there was a hole inside it. She was scared, unsure, but determined. She was so sleepy, so tired. She just wanted to stay here forever, melt into Ron and never have to let go.



She leaned even closer, and he closed his eyes too. Neither of them knew what they were doing, but it felt so right, they couldn't bother to question it. More importantly, they didn't want to. Their lips met after such a long wait, after four years of tension and denial of what they both knew. All those unspoken thoughts and secrets just rushed out in that one kiss.



It only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like eternity. And yet, it was too short. Hermione sank back, laying her head on his shoulder, not quite sure what had happened or what to do next. It was so bizarre, so instinctive, even though she'd never kissed anyone before, much less like that. Ron was practically hyperventilating. He was confused, and the moment was just now sinking in. Another freaking silence. After awhile, they both got up and walked back to the common room, not speaking.



"So, um, now what?" Ron asked abruptly, throwing the question out into the air.



"I don't know," Hermione said, looking slightly panicked. "We can't tell Harry- he'll laugh us into the 7th dimension!"



"Well, this is painfully awkward. Let's keep it quiet for awhile, then see what happens."



"That is what's best," Hermione agreed, then mentally hitting herself for her perpetual dorkiness.



"Well, then, um... goodnight."



"Goodnight."



Ron leaned forward and kissed Hermione on the cheek before walking off to his dormitory. She was floating, gliding. Surely I'm dreaming, she thought. She lied down on her bed, though Parvati and Lavender were already snoring. Surely she would wake up, and this incredible fantasy would fade away, and she'd go back to reality. She closed her eyes to dream about Ron. And when she woke up the next day, she realized that the most incredible dream she had had that night was real. For the first time, it wasn't an illusion.



A/N: *sighs* I am so pitifully romantic, aren't I? Heaven knows I'd drop dead if any of my friends read my fanfic. So... what will happen next? Um, I don't know, actually. Suggestions welcome!!