DISCLAIMER: I am supreme ruler of all that is Bananas. I don't own Harry
Potter though. There aren't Bananas in it. Pears, yes, but no Bananas.
A/N: No idea where this came from. Oh well, please R&R!!!!
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Hermione had always been one to weigh her options; you know, the pros and cons of every situation. She used logic, and reasoning, her wits and her knowledge. She relied on her learning and her smarts to make the right decision. She tried never to rely on chance.
Now was not one of those times. For almost a year, Hermione had been struggling with her feelings - more specifically, her feelings for a certain red-haired debonair that she knew.
She'd spent countless hours late into countless nights trying to figure it all out. Had her friendship with Ron turned into something more? Had her feelings grown from a simple camaraderie, to love? And, if it had, did he feel the same way?
She'd tried to reason with herself. Of course he didn't, they were best friends, nothing more. But she still had that nagging feeling that something else was there. She resolved that there was only one certain way to find out. She would have to ask him.
But how to ask him? What if he didn't feel the same way? She could just imagine it. The rejection, the mockery, the tears, a ruined friendship . . .
So now, as she sat on the grounds of Hogwarts over lunch hour, she was still was unsure. Would she tell him? Would she not? Did he love her? Or did he not . . .
Idly, Hermione picked a couple of the daisies growing beside her as she sat cross-legged on the ground. She remembered an old muggle game she'd played when she'd been smaller.
She picked a petal from the flower in her hand.
"He loves me." She remembered their second year. Malfoy had called her that horrid name; and Ron - Ron had stood up for her, belched slugs for her!
She pulled another petal. "He loves me not." The year before. 'She's a nightmare, honestly!' Hadn't he said so? And hadn't he backed it up in later years?
Another petal. "He loves me." In third year, when Snape had filled in for Professor Lupin. Ron had yelled at Snape in her defense. At Snape! Whether that had been crazy or stupid or both, he'd done it for her. . .
More petals. "He loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not." She'd wanted so much for him to ask her. But he never did, instead choosing to drool over Fleur. She'd waited and waited. Finally, someone else had asked her - Viktor Krum - and Hermione gave up. Who was she kidding, why would Ron even want to ask her, except as a . . . a last resort?
A few more petals. "He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me." She knew she loved him. No one could have imagine how she'd felt when he'd sacrificed himself during Professor McGonagall's giant chess game. No one could have imagined how she'd felt when she'd seen Ron, standing up to Sirius Black on a broken leg, to protect her and Harry. No one could have imagined how she'd felt when she'd seen him at the Yule Ball with Padma. No one could have imagined how she felt everyday, when he looked into her eyes, knowing he may never be hers.
Hermione glanced down once more at the flower in her hand. There was only one petal left. Only one.
Struggling to keep a tear back, she pulled the final petal from the flower and let it float softly to the ground.
"He loves me not."
Memories of their every argument flooded her, every time they had ever fought. She regretted each and every one.
Ron didn't love her. They'd only ever been friends, and that's what they'd always remain. Hermione had made her decision. She couldn't tell him. Why risk what they already had?
Hermione wiped a tear from her eye. She let what remained of the flower fall to the ground. She glanced down at her watch, and realized with a start exactly how much time she'd spent outside.
Standing she turned, prepared to head to class. But something was blocking her way.
"Ron!" Hermione cried, surprised to see him. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough," he said. He held out his hand, and opened it. Lying there was a flower petal. Hermione took it, and looked at him questioningly.
"He loves you," Ron said simply. He grinned his lopsided grin, his ears turning slightly pink, and Hermione couldn't help smiling too. Before she knew what was happening, Ron had pulled Hermione close to him. He kissed her softly, hoping for all it was worth that it was the right thing to do.
Hermione's knees grew weak. She kissed him back, and all her reservations disappeared. He did feel the same as she did!
The bell rang inside the school, signaling that they had only five minutes to be in class.
Hermione smiled up at Ron. "We're going to be late," she said, grinning.
"I don't mind," came the reply. Ron put an arm around her shoulder, and slowly led her into the school.
And it was then that Hermione realized that maybe some things should be left to chance; that not everything can be solved with reason and logic.
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Please Review!!!! Thanks so much!!!
. : * PDT * : .
A/N: No idea where this came from. Oh well, please R&R!!!!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione had always been one to weigh her options; you know, the pros and cons of every situation. She used logic, and reasoning, her wits and her knowledge. She relied on her learning and her smarts to make the right decision. She tried never to rely on chance.
Now was not one of those times. For almost a year, Hermione had been struggling with her feelings - more specifically, her feelings for a certain red-haired debonair that she knew.
She'd spent countless hours late into countless nights trying to figure it all out. Had her friendship with Ron turned into something more? Had her feelings grown from a simple camaraderie, to love? And, if it had, did he feel the same way?
She'd tried to reason with herself. Of course he didn't, they were best friends, nothing more. But she still had that nagging feeling that something else was there. She resolved that there was only one certain way to find out. She would have to ask him.
But how to ask him? What if he didn't feel the same way? She could just imagine it. The rejection, the mockery, the tears, a ruined friendship . . .
So now, as she sat on the grounds of Hogwarts over lunch hour, she was still was unsure. Would she tell him? Would she not? Did he love her? Or did he not . . .
Idly, Hermione picked a couple of the daisies growing beside her as she sat cross-legged on the ground. She remembered an old muggle game she'd played when she'd been smaller.
She picked a petal from the flower in her hand.
"He loves me." She remembered their second year. Malfoy had called her that horrid name; and Ron - Ron had stood up for her, belched slugs for her!
She pulled another petal. "He loves me not." The year before. 'She's a nightmare, honestly!' Hadn't he said so? And hadn't he backed it up in later years?
Another petal. "He loves me." In third year, when Snape had filled in for Professor Lupin. Ron had yelled at Snape in her defense. At Snape! Whether that had been crazy or stupid or both, he'd done it for her. . .
More petals. "He loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not." She'd wanted so much for him to ask her. But he never did, instead choosing to drool over Fleur. She'd waited and waited. Finally, someone else had asked her - Viktor Krum - and Hermione gave up. Who was she kidding, why would Ron even want to ask her, except as a . . . a last resort?
A few more petals. "He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me." She knew she loved him. No one could have imagine how she'd felt when he'd sacrificed himself during Professor McGonagall's giant chess game. No one could have imagined how she'd felt when she'd seen Ron, standing up to Sirius Black on a broken leg, to protect her and Harry. No one could have imagined how she'd felt when she'd seen him at the Yule Ball with Padma. No one could have imagined how she felt everyday, when he looked into her eyes, knowing he may never be hers.
Hermione glanced down once more at the flower in her hand. There was only one petal left. Only one.
Struggling to keep a tear back, she pulled the final petal from the flower and let it float softly to the ground.
"He loves me not."
Memories of their every argument flooded her, every time they had ever fought. She regretted each and every one.
Ron didn't love her. They'd only ever been friends, and that's what they'd always remain. Hermione had made her decision. She couldn't tell him. Why risk what they already had?
Hermione wiped a tear from her eye. She let what remained of the flower fall to the ground. She glanced down at her watch, and realized with a start exactly how much time she'd spent outside.
Standing she turned, prepared to head to class. But something was blocking her way.
"Ron!" Hermione cried, surprised to see him. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough," he said. He held out his hand, and opened it. Lying there was a flower petal. Hermione took it, and looked at him questioningly.
"He loves you," Ron said simply. He grinned his lopsided grin, his ears turning slightly pink, and Hermione couldn't help smiling too. Before she knew what was happening, Ron had pulled Hermione close to him. He kissed her softly, hoping for all it was worth that it was the right thing to do.
Hermione's knees grew weak. She kissed him back, and all her reservations disappeared. He did feel the same as she did!
The bell rang inside the school, signaling that they had only five minutes to be in class.
Hermione smiled up at Ron. "We're going to be late," she said, grinning.
"I don't mind," came the reply. Ron put an arm around her shoulder, and slowly led her into the school.
And it was then that Hermione realized that maybe some things should be left to chance; that not everything can be solved with reason and logic.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Please Review!!!! Thanks so much!!!
. : * PDT * : .