Sunlit Garden

            "So?"

            "So what?" she snapped at him irritably from over her shoulder.

            He shrugged by way of answer.  "I…don't know.  So?"

            She sighed, exasperated.  "Ron, what do you want?  Can't you see that I'm trying to read here?"

            "I know," he said, flashing a grin at her.  "I just wanted to...never mind."

            She glanced at him, her attention fully caught.  "What is it, Ron?"

            He studiously ignored her question.  "So, what are you reading?"

            She glared at him, but relented and lifted the heavy book to show him the cover.  "Happy now?"  It was Abacuses and Balances: The Old Instruments.

            "Bloody hell, Hermione.  Is this more light reading?" he queried, prying the book away from her fingers and weighing it cautiously in his hand.

            "No Ron.  It's not.  It's for Arithmancy, which you wouldn't know because you're taking Divinations instead," she answered, trying to snatch the book away from him. Ron grinned and wagged a finger at her, shut the book with an audible snap and held it high above his head.

            "You need to relax," he said to her as she screeched unbecomingly at him.

            "Ron Weasley!  Give that back to me!"

            "What's the magic word?" 

            She rolled her eyes.  "Really Ron, aren't a little too old for these games?"

            Ron shrugged, still holding the book out of her reach.  His eyes were glinting with mischief and he looked absolutely delighted.  "The magic word, Hermione."

            She sighed resignedly.  "Fine.  Please.  Now can I have my book back?"

            "Say it like you mean it," he chided, still unrelenting.

            "All right then.  Please Ron, may I have my book back?" she asked sweetly.  Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm.

            Ron grinned.  "That's better," he said.

            Hermione glared at him.  "I did say please Ron.  I really need that book."

            "You need to promise me something though, before I give it to you," informed Ron after a moment, which had led to another unsuccessful grab at the book on her part.

            Hermione, who was thoroughly annoyed now, snapped, "What?"

            "You have to promise to not touch this book until tomorrow at the very earliest."

            "Why not?"

            "Because I've something to show you."

            She glared at him, but softened when he gave her a hangdog expression.  "Please Hermione?  For me?"

            She rolled her eyes.  "Enough with that Ron.  Fine, fine.  What is it that you have to show me?"

            He grinned unrepentantly at her.  "You'll see.  C'mon, let's get out of here," he said, handing the heavy volume to her.  "'sides, some fresh air would do you some good.  Maybe give you a sense of humour."

            "Ron!  That wasn't even slightly funny!" exclaimed Hermione.

            "Glad you liked it," he smirked before towards the stairs to the dormitory. 

            "Where are you going?" she queried.

            He gave her a confused look.  "To get my cloak of course.  You don't want to freeze, do you?"

            Hermione rolled her eyes.  "I suppose I better get mine as well."

            "Uh…that would probably be a good idea," he replied.  She paused.  "Well come on now, we don't have all day!"

            "I'll meet you down here in five minutes," said Hermione. 

            He frowned at her.  "Don't you dare think about reading your book.  You promised."

            After hastily reassuring him that she wouldn't, and proving her point by shoving the aforementioned volume into her bag, she gave him a quizzical glance.

            "Ron, where do you want to take me?"

            "You'll see.  It's a surprise.  Race you back down here!" he said, and bounced cheerfully up the next few steps.

            Grumbling under her breath, Hermione gathered her things and ran up the stairs to her dormitory to grab her cloak.  In spite of her attitude, she was intrigued by Ron's behaviour, and wanted to find what was behind it. 

            When she came back down, Ron was already there, waiting impatiently for her.

            "Well that certainly took you long enough," he said cheerfully.  Hermione rolled her eyes but deigned not to answer.  When Ron was in a mood, it was best not to provoke him.

            "You're certainly in a cheerful mood tonight," she said, feeling irritated.  He flashed her a charming smile, and she could feel herself soften a little.  Drat him, she thought.

            "I know," he said cheekily.  Before she could think of a reply, he tugged at her wrist.  "Come on, we don't have all day."

            "Where are we going?" she asked, her curiosity peaked, in spite of herself.

            "You'll see."

            Hermione checked her watch and scowled irritably.  They had been sitting here for more than an hour and it was chilly.  It was also growing dark and she still had Transfiguration homework to finish. 

            They were seated on a bench in the outer Herbology garden.  Ron was watching the sky closely.  She had no idea what they were here for, so she let her gaze wander around, ticking off the names of various plants randomly.  Moonshine, Baby Moonvines, Moon Roses…goodness, they're all moonflowers.  She frowned; what was Ron up to?  She had always prided herself in being one of the brightest students of Hogwarts, but even she couldn't figure out this elusive puzzle.  The full moon isn't supposed to come out for another few days or so, so they shouldn't bloom, she thought, puzzled.  A cool breeze fluttered by. She shivered and clutched her cloak more tightly.  Ron glanced at her.

            "Are you cold?" he queried.  He sounded concerned, but she could hear the amusement beneath his words.  She sighed and rubbed her arms underneath the material, letting silence be her answer.  She was annoyed.  She felt him move beside her, and before she knew what had happened, his cloak settled over her in a blanket of warmth.

            She glanced at him, surprised.  He had never done such a thing for her before.  "Thank you, but aren't you going to be cold?" she queried.

            His face was slightly pink, and the tips of his ears were red.  It was rather cute, she decided.  "I'm fine," he insisted.  He steadfastly refused to look at her, but was scanning the sky.  Curiously, she glanced up as well and watched the stars blossom lightly in the sky with him. 

            "Shouldn't we be getting back by now?  They're probably wondering where we are," Hermione said worriedly.  Ron shook his head distractedly.

            "I told Neville that we were going to be late tonight.  I said you were helping me study for OWLs." 

            Hermione gaped at him.  "And he believed you?  I thought Neville had more sense than that!"

            Ron shrugged.  "I don't think he believed me, but what was he going to say?"

            She considered the answer for a moment and snapped her mouth shut.  He did have a point after all.  She clutched his cloak closer to her small frame.  She liked the way it smelled.  It was indefinably Ron. 

            She paused to consider that thought.  She had never denied her own feelings for her friend, and had always been quite aware of his for her.  She wasn't quite sure of whether or not he had known about hers, but was fairly certain that he did.  They engaged in a bit of harmless flirting when no one else was around.  It was always in fun, and never serious, but there were times when she wished that it were serious.  It would take a huge burden off of her, if anything.

            "Ron, you're shivering," she chided him when she noticed a tremor go through him.  He shook his head adamantly. 

            "No I'm not.   Keep the cloak," he insisted.

            "Ron, don't be silly.  I'll be fine without it.  Take it," she demanded, shrugging out of the heavy material and draping it back on his shoulders.  The fabric pooled around him on the stone bench, and the twilight gave him an enigmatic air.  She laughed at the picture it made.  Ron was not one for mystery.  He was too…honest.

            "What's so funny?" he asked, turning on her with a scowl on his face.  She bit her lower lip.  She had forgotten that he didn't like to be laughed at.

            "Nothing," she said quickly.  Ron glared at her, and she held up her hands in a defensive gesture.

            He growled.  "You better tell me, Herm.  Or else."

            "It's Hermione.  Honestly, you should know better than that—Ron!" she shrieked.

            He had pounced on her and was tickling her mercilessly.  She gasped, trying to writhe away from his clever fingers.  When he finally stopped, one of his hands had entrapped both of hers in a firm grip, and the other was placed threateningly on her stomach.  "What was so funny?" he asked again, his eyes alight with mischief.

            "If I tell you, you promise not to do that again?" she asked warily.  He grinned unrepentantly at her.

            "No."

            "Then I'm not telling."

            It took a few minutes of tickling, but she finally admitted her defeat.  "You looked so funny," she said in between gasps.  "The cloak looked so ridiculous on you for a moment that I couldn't help but laugh."

            Ron looked hurt and let go of her.  "You thought I looked ridiculous?"

            "No, it wasn't you," she said hastily, trying to placate him.  "Honest."

            "Then what was it really?" he asked. 

            She sighed.  "Nothing really."

            "Honest?" he asked.  Hermione nodded firmly.

            "Honest," she replied.  He flashed a grin at her, and she felt something inside of her flutter.

            "Good," he replied, and promptly resumed tickling her.

            "No fair," she said in between spurts of laughter.  "You promised."

            "I did no such thing," he protested.  He stopped his ministrations, but didn't release her.  Rather, he pulled her in closer to him and draped his arm around her waist.  Satisfied that he wasn't going to tickle her again, she leaned against him, enjoying his warmth.

            "What did you bring me here for?" she asked after a few moments of silence.  She glanced at him, and was surprised to see that he was beet red.

            "Well…I wanted to show you the garden, but I don't think the moon is coming out tonight," he said, embarrassed.

            Hermione couldn't help feeling touched.  "That's very sweet of you Ron, but the moon doesn't come out for another three days or so," she said gently.

            She laughed when he said something uncomplimentary under his breath.  It was so like him to miscalculate even something as simple as the phases of the moon.  "Maybe this is a sign that you should take Arithmancy rather than Divinations," she teased.  "It'd teach you how to count the days, at least."

            He scowled at her.  "I resent that.  She grinned cheekily at him. 

            "I know.  That's why I said it," she said before snuggling closer to him. 

            "I suppose we better go back then," he said grudgingly after a period of silence.  Hermione shook her head hurriedly.

            "Let's not.  I like it out here, and it's terribly stuffy in the common room," she insisted.  Ron didn't answer, just pulled her in closer to him.  She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder, content to watch the moonflowers.

            "We should come back in a few days.  You know, when the moon is out," she said teasingly.

            "Be nice," he growled.  "I did try."

            "I know, and I'm glad you did," she said, turning her head slightly to face him.  He was looking at her already, she realized, and felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment when she realized that.

            "Really?" he asked.  His face was a few inches from hers.  She could feel his breath and see the freckles on his face, even in the dark.

            She bit her lower lip.  "Really," she whispered.

            They stared at one another for a few moments, and then, as one, turned away in embarrassment.  She felt him withdraw his arm and nearly made a sound of protest.

            "I think we should get going then," he said after a moment of embarrassed silence.  She didn't reply, but stood up anyways, brushing her robes off, just in case.  He followed suit, and they made their way out of the garden quietly.

            They walked back slowly, not exactly sure what to say.  They had taken the shorter way, she noticed.  

            "We should come back in three nights," she said.  Her voice sounded odd to her.  Ron glanced at her curiously.  "I'm sure the garden would look lovely then," she added. 

            He smiled sweetly at her, and she felt like melting.  "It'd look like a sunlit garden," he said cryptically. 

            "Why?" she queried.  "Wouldn't it be a moonlit garden?"

            "Becauseifyouretherethenitdbeasunlitgarden," he said very quickly, turning beet red.

            It took her a moment to decipher his words, but when she did, she felt her cheeks turn pink.  Impulsively, she grabbed one of his hands and tugged him to a stop.  He glanced at her questioningly, but she didn't release it just yet.

            "Let's go back.  To the garden I mean.  I don't feel like doing homework."

            He stared at her incredulously.  "You?  Not feel like doing homework?"
            She glared at him.  "Do you feel like going back or not?" she said more brusquely that she had intended to.  He shook his head, and with their hands entwined, they walked back.

            They found their bench quickly, and resumed their former positions.  The stone seats had barely cooled from their brief absence.  This time, she had her knees folded up and her right arm was hugging them close to her.  Her left hand lay entwined with Ron's.  His right arm held her tightly at the waist, and she sighed in contentment.  She wasn't cold anymore.  She felt warm.

            "This is nice," she said dreamily, laying her head against his shoulder once more.  She felt the answering weight as his head drooped against hers, and for the next half hour or so, they talked about unimportant things.  Voldemort, their Transfiguration homework, Harry, the Order of the Phoenix, and so on.

            Hermione checked her watch quickly and was shocked at the lateness of the hour.  In fact, they shouldn't even be out this late.  "We better get going," she said reluctantly.  "It's nearly ten, and everyone must be wondering about us."

            Ron made no move to argue, but she felt his own unwillingness.  Slowly, they dragged themselves to their feet and walked hand-in-hand back to the Gryffindor Tower.  By unspoken accord, they had taken the long route, and miraculously, hadn't bumped into Filch but they had to hide behind a statue hastily to avoid the oncoming onslaught of Mrs. Norris.

            The Fat Lady surveyed them and their linked hands.  They hastily disengaged them, but it was too late.  Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and when Ron gave her the password, she winked at them.  "Had fun dears?" she asked cheerily.  Hermione flushed for the umpteenth time that night. 

            They scampered hastily back into the Common Room, closing the Fat Lady behind them.  The common room was empty; it really was late. 

            "Well…I guess we better get going then," Ron said. 

            Hermione paused, and before her resolve could crumble, tiptoed and kissed him lightly on the lips.  "Good night Ron, see you tomorrow morning," she said softly and ran up the stairs, blushing all the while.

            She couldn't help but wonder what the sunlit garden would look like.

Notes:

Happy Birthday Killiko~!  Or belated, rather.  Hope you have the best year ever, and you're the funnest Chunky Monkey ever~!  We will dominate the world, yes we will~!

Title taken from a song off the Utena soundtrack.  I love this song.

Ugh, don't really like this fic, but it's pure sap and waff.  It's rather trite as well.  Not to mention plotless.  Oh well.  Live with it.  XD