Authors Note: Ok, here's a lowdown. This is set in fifth year, after GoF. Ron and Hermione dated, and she really liked him, but he dumped her when a cooler girl (Lavender Brown) asked him out. She never really got over him, but he ignores her. Until now.... ~*Disclaimer~*:I don't own anything. Only the experience I got this idea from. If I owned anything else, I would not be sitting here in my dining room soaking wet and in seriously uncool "cat" pyjamas after school. R&R please! My first fic on my ownio!

I sitting on a desk in Charms Room 1, swinging my legs, waiting for Dean to finish in the loo. Ron walks in, purposefully and to my surprise comes over to me. "I need to talk to you." "Really?" I say, not looking terribly interested, in fact, not even bothering to look up. "Well, a shame, really. Because somehow, I don't want to talk to you." He looks offended. "What? I thought we were friends. What's up with you now?" He's right, we are friends. Supposedly. But he doesn't act like it a lot anymore, in fact, only when he wants to copy my answers. So I do the same with him now. "Yeah, we're friends. I'm busy. I have other people to talk to. Goodbye." These are the words I can practically hear him thinking when I try to hold a conversation with him at school. But he doesn't walk off as I do. He sits next to me on the desk. He clears his throat. "You've got a boyfriend, right? Dean." I look him right in the eyes, eyebrows raised, tone couldn't-care-less. "Yeah. And?" He looks encouraged, for no reason I can fathom. "And...you're having problems. He doesn't want to be serious, does he?" I fold my arms. "So what if he doesn't? It's my problem, not yours." He looks exasperated. "Will you stop being so bloody defensive? All I'm asking is whether-" "Whether what, Ron? Whether it's good? Whether he's my first boyfriend? Whether-Oh god," I laugh, seeing his expression. "Whether I still fancy you? You really are that conceited, aren't you? Get over yourself! I thought that maybe you weren't as big a prick as all my friends said you were-maybe your friends were jealous when they warned me about you. But they were right, weren't they? All there is to you is hot air, a huge ego and no real concern about others. Well, thank god I escaped! And yes, Dean is planning to break up with me. So go on. Laugh. Do you really think your patheticity can affect me anymore?" I stop to draw breath. All the things I've dreamt about saying to his face. Letting it all out. But he's not responding as expected. He's looking crestfallen. "Is-is that really what you think of me?" He asks, so quietly I can barely hear him. "Yes. Well, have you ever given me reason to think otherwise?" I say, more gently this time. "No." This time I have to bend forward to hear his reply. "I don't suppose I have. But-" he looks at me pleadingly with those eyes. Strange, they are. Elf eyes. Green immediately around the pupils, then brown around the edge of the iris. "-But what if I changed? What if I told you-" I gasp. He's not going to say what I think he is, is he? "What if I told you that I-I'm sorry that I hurt you so much." I let a big breath out, slowly, ruffling the hair that's dangling in front of my eyes. "Well," I begin, "Then I suppose I'd accept your apology." "And?" He urges. "And nothing. You don't like me, I-I don't like you..." Hmm. Not as convincing on that last bit. He bends under my hair and looks at my face. We're so close that if I move forward at all, we'll bang heads. He studies my eyes. Shakily, I draw away and pull myself off the table and go to the door. I'm not about to let my feelings come through. knowing him, this is a wind-up, something he'll use against me later. I put my hand on the door handle-and feel a tug on my other hand. I turn and face Ron. He looks like he might burst out with something at any minute. He almost whispers: "Please. Let me tell you something else." Almost tearfully, I shake my head. I wrench the handle down and open the door. But Ron still has my other hand. He pulls me towards him and puts his arms round me. I struggle, not wanting to get involved, because I don't ever want to be hurt that way again, but before I can get away he leans in and kisses me.