One-Shot: Hermione Takes Ron to Slughorn's Christmas Party

"Ron?"

"Hmm?" Ron glanced up from where he and Harry were playing a little bit of wizard's chess. He froze when he heard who had spoken. She hadn't spoken to him in so many weeks, that he had almost forgotten what her voice sounded like.

Hermione Granger, formerly his best mate, was staring at him with her big, beautiful, brown eyes, and looking quite fetching in a simple top and jumper. She was wringing her hands along the topmost layer, the jumper, in an almost nervous way. Her face seemed to be at war with herself as well, like she was trying to remind herself she was still mad at him, that they weren't speaking, and yet something gentle was also attempting to make its way onto her soft, lovely face.

She looked absolutely stunning. Almost on a habit, Ron glanced about for his girlfriend, Lavender Brown, but she was nowhere in sight. He turned back to take in Hermione, her full, bow lips slightly parted, very pink and very tempting.

He let himself almost imagine that she was his girlfriend instead, except that would lead him down a rabbit hole of soul-searching questions he wasn't comfortable asking just yet. His pride wouldn't allow it.

"What's up, Hermione?" he pursed his lips in a patient smile, and hoping it was also welcoming.

"I…. well, I've been invited to a Christmas Party hosted by Professor Slughorn's group…."

"Ah, the Slug Club," Ron made a face.

To his surprise (and encouragement), Hermione giggled, smiling indulgently at him making a wise-ass crack. Usually, now would about be the point where she would admonish him for being so cavalier and mocking – like she had done when he had spelled out the S.P.E.W. acronym. "Yes. The Slug Club. I've been invited. To their Christmas Party – Harry has to!" She threw this out almost desperately, causing Harry to make a bemused frown. She clearly was nervous. "And we – well, I was… wondering…" She was still ringing her hands. Finally, she lifted her face, her bushy brown hair parting away from it like a curtain as she adorably bit her lip. "…. If you might like to go with me?"

Ron stared at, amazed. Internally, he was holding in a jubilant shout, which he obfuscated by forming a bemused expression of his own. He glanced between his two best mates, Harry eyeing him pointedly, silently nudging him.

"Are you…. asking me to….?"

Hermione took a deep breath, taking one step forward. "Yes," she stated, and he couldn't detect anywhere in her expression that she was doing this out of obligation, or that she was disgusted on what she otherwise might expect of herself on principle and not have anything to do with him, especially when they were fighting, and this row was their worst one yet. They were more or less estranged at this point. "I am."

Ron considered this diplomatically. He would have to choose his words carefully, lest he offend and send her pelting back across that chasm they had let form between them. Oddly, the most obvious flaw he could raise about her proposal to take him didn't even register in his mind.

"Well….. how come you and Harry aren't going together, as fellow members?"

"He's taking Luna Lovegood," Hermione stated unusually quickly.

"Really?" Ron turned his head back to Harry on a swivel. Interestingly, his other best mate seemed to actually be blushing, but said nothing. "But Slughorn wouldn't have let a bird like that into his special little club – crime, that. So I guess non-members are allowed…"

"…. as a date, yes," Hermione supplied.

Ron turned back to her, letting himself enjoy how Hermione's face turned red, in a tell-tale sign that she was flustered. "So this is a date, then?"

"Well, I…. I….. Christmas…. The spirit of the season…." She was spluttering, for once making absolutely no sense, and it was ridiculously cute. Had he had any less sense of honor, Ron might have grabbed her and kissed her pretty little mouth right off, if snogging helped one to better form words. In his still rather limited but growing experience, he'd come to learn the opposite was actually true – Lavender tended to skip the words and go right to the snogging anyhow.

The reminder of his girlfriend made him fear Hermione might realize she was asking out someone who was already spoken for. "Yeah! I'd love to go with you, Hermione!"

Her big, brown eyes expanded until they were wide as moons. "R-Really?" she gasped.

"Bloody hell, yes!" Ron beamed at her, genuinely, a ray of hope flaring to life in his chest. Slughorn might be a nepotistic git, but if this was Hermione's way of extending him an olive branch, then he would bloody well take it. ….. He'd missed her.

Besides, it wasn't as though Lavender was likely to find out, at least until well after the party was over, and they were all away from the castle anyway. And at any rate, it wasn't as though Ron could go with his girlfriend – she wasn't in the Slug Club either.

"B-brilliant!" Hermione stuttered, still seeming to be at a loss for words. She smiled weakly. "Pick me up here in the Common Room Christmas Eve?"

"Sounds great!" Ron grinned. Hermione now full-on beamed, then scampered happily up the steps to the girl's dormitory.

"Hermione?"

She glanced back. Ron smiled, hoping she could see how sincere it was. "Thank you for asking me."

She grinned in return and flounced up the steps. Ron turned back to Harry with a content smile on his face…. only to find his King knocked over on the chessboard.

"Checkmate," Harry smirked.

Ron didn't even care at this point. "I'll get you back, Potter – and when I do, you'll tell me how you asked Luna Lovegood to a dance!"

Harry turned beet red, and mumbled at Ron to shut it and just play.


Ron knew he should have gone to Madame Malkin's and gotten a better set of dress robes.

Not that he would have had the Galleons to spare – he would have asked Harry, if he was desperate enough. Except he'd had close to no time to get ready; Hermione had asked him to the party the week before Christmas Eve. As it was, he would have to make do with his hand-me-downs from his Great-Aunt Tessie. They were maroon, and clashed horribly with his hair, which he had done his best to neatly comb. He fiddled with the cufflinks.

A clack of heels on the stair made him pause and glance up.

An angel who looked like Hermione rounded the corner. She was in a soft pink dress that reminded him of the one she wore to the Yule Ball two years ago, though this one was far more under-stated. Her chestnut hair was sleek and shiny, tumbling down in ringlets, rather than the bun she had taken it up in two Christmastimes ago.

"Wow…." He breathed, then realized he had spoken aloud.

Hermione's cheeks turned the same shade of pink as her dress. She ducked her head shyly, a radiant if also bashful smile on her face. "Thanks." She gestured to him helplessly after a brief lull of silence. "You…. look nice as well."

Ron smirked. "You're sweet, but you don't have to lie. They're from…"

"…. Your Great Aunt Tessie, I know," she finished for him, her grin now cheeky.

He blinked at her, then chuckled. "You've heard it before…."

"Hmm," she demurred coyly, teasing - but not, he noted, in a malicious way. "Harry might have mentioned it." She glanced about. "Speaking of, where is he?"

"Already left to collect Luna," Ron jerked his thumb towards the portrait. "Do you know in almost six years, I've never had a reason to wonder where Ravenclaw Tower is? Poor bloke has to cross the whole blooming castle just to fetch her!"

"He and Luna might beat us there yet, so…." And here, she offered him her arm, a blindingly bright smile on her face. "…. Shall we, good sir?"

Ron laughed, looping his arm through hers. "We shall, madame."

Hermione smirked prettily at this, and they left through the portrait hole.

Ron couldn't resist stealing glances at her as they went along. If Hermione noticed, she never let on.

"Are…. are you using that Sleekeazy Hair Potion again?"

Hermione touched her brown hair, secretly pleased that he noticed. "You like it?"

Ron nodded to her, his throat suddenly dry. "Much. Though you look cute however you where your hair."

Hermione blinked dumbly at him in astonishment. Did… did he just call me cute?

They reached the dungeons. Slughorn greeted Hermione enthusiastically, got Ron's last name wrong and admitted them both. Once inside, Ron could see Harry and Luna dancing with each other at arm's length, like a couple of first-years. Despite this, Luna – her blonde hair curly – was smiling in complete contentment. On the completely opposite side of the hall, Ron noticed that tosser Cormac MacLaggen slouched in a chair, though the git now shifted a little straighter in his seat as he now stared at Hermione. Ron glowered at him before deliberately shifting his arm lower from where it was still intertwined with Hermione's to slip about her waist and tug her flush to him. He heard, felt her let out a gasp of surprise.

"Ronald! Honestly, what are you….?"

"Come and dance with me?" he whispered along her earlobe, his breath tickling her there. He thought he heard her breath hitch again.

"Oh, erm…. Yes, all right," she stammered, smiling weakly, and looking terribly flushed. Ron guided her expertly out onto the floor, his one hand still at Hermione's waist – it now helped as he turned her into him, and she almost subconsciously rested her one hand one his shoulder before her free palm laced its fingers through his own. She was staring down at what little space remained between them, and even with the strain of the soft violin in the background, he thought he heard the beautiful witch lose her breath yet again.

They began a slow, charged but competent waltz. Hermione lifted her chocolate-brown eyes, her lashes fluttering a little into Ron's almost smoldering gaze. He couldn't help it if his grin was just on the edge of smug – he wanted to make damn sure MacLaggen was watching.

"Umm…. You dance divinely," Hermione finally praised, listing for something to say. She didn't know how she found words when Ron was staring at her like…. like…. "Those lessons with McGonagall fourth year must have paid off…"

Ron actually laughed graciously, before spinning her out and then back in. "That's probably it. Merlin knows I didn't do much dancing at the actual Ball."

"With Padma, you mean?" Hermione eyed him curiously.

"Is that who I took?" Ron clapped a hand to his forehead, not entirely facetiously. "Bloody hell, I'd forgotten…"

They both giggled. During a small, lulling silence in which they stole glances at each other before looking just as quickly away, Harry and Luna glided past them, almost completely unnoticed, though they did hear the pretty Ravenclaw girl admonish lightly:

"Harry, couldn't you at least turn me around or something, like Ronald…"

"Don't talk, I'm trying to count," Harry murmured, his hazel eyes trained resolutely at his feet.

Ron smirked. "And there's someone who didn't retain all those Yule Ball dancing lessons….."

Hermione smirked and shook her head. "Poor Harry."

Another awkward pause. Ron decided to take a deep breath and leap.

"Can I ask you something?" In the moment before she answered, he dipped her, causing Hermione to gaze up at him in something close to wonder.

"You…. you can ask me anything," she stuttered.

"….. Did you kiss Viktor Krum?"

In the moment after he asked it, at how some of the brightness in her features was snuffed out, he feared she might pull away from him angrily, even storm off in a huff. It must have taken great restraint on her part that she did neither. "Who told you that? And why do you ask?"

Ron blinked. "Ginny. We got into a row, yeah, and…"

"Ginny told you?" Hermione gaped at him. "That was supposed to be in confidence!"

"So, it's true, then?" Ron stared at her. Hermione couldn't help it. She turned her face away, even as she scolded herself that she shouldn't feel ashamed. It had just been one kiss, and quite an informative one at that – enough for her to know that she hadn't wanted the Bulgarain Quidditch player like that, flattered as she had been by his attentions, at a time when Ron hadn't wanted to see that she was a girl. Even so, she felt strangely…. unfaithful somehow.

"Yes," she whispered. She actually felt a tear forming behind her eye. She shivered when she felt Ron's paw of a hand caress her cheek, turning her face back to his. His impossibly blue eyes were burning, but not with anger. "As to your second question…. I asked because I…. I care."

She frowned at him, both amused and bemused. "About who I snog? Being a bit presumptive, are we?"

Hermione was impressed by how he met her jousting banter square on, his gaze still intense enough that it nearly made her swoon. "Yes. I think where the people that matter most to me are concerned, I'm allowed to be a bit presumptive."

She was suddenly feeling terribly hot, to the point where she felt the urge to fan herself, and all the quicker before she did something rash. Such as….. "Good heavens. Concerned over who other girls are kissing, Ronald? Whatever would Lavender think about this?"

A swooping feeling of hope actually dipped through her chest at the same moment Ron dipped her, and Hermione let out a tiny yip of surprise even as she got a good look at the….. sadness in his eyes. "Lavender and I….. we're…."

Hermione pursed her lips in a grin of apology. "I'm sorry if I broke some….. decorum in asking you ahead of your girlfriend…."

"Don't be," Ron clipped across her. "Anyway, Lavender and I….. I….. I don't think she'll be my girlfriend much longer…."

Hermione felt dizzy, lightheaded. "Whyever not?"

She froze at the way he heatedly gazed into her eyes, and they both swayed to a halt. "You know why."

Hermione gulped, her throat dry. "Ron, I….."

A hand at her waist interrupted her, followed by Ron being jostled roughly out of her arms by a very lustful MacLaggen. "Scram, Weasley – I'm cutting in!"

Hermione bared her teeth in rage and shoved him away from her hard. "Not on your life, MacLaggen…..!"

MacLaggen snarled and reached for her. "You little…. I'll show you some resp-!"

SMACK.

The fist flew out like a blur, slamming into the side of MacLaggen's face and sending him sprawling several feet and down to the dance floor with a crash. Hermione drew both hands to her mouth to stifle a gasp as shouts went up. Brown eyes huge, she turned to see Ron shaking out his clenched fist, though his face showed no signs of unclenching, where it was contorted with rage.

"Don't you ever touch my girl again, you tosser, or I'll kill you! I don't care how drunk or hard-up you are!"

"Ronald!" Hermione cried out, sounding stunned, mortified and impressed all at once.

Professor Slughorn suddenly materialized next to them, frowning in pompous disapproval. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weatherby – I'm going to have to ask you to leave!"

Hermione gawked at the professor for a moment, then with a scoff, took Ron's hand and flounced out of the party in disgust. She barely noticed Harry send her an awkward grimace and half-heartedly wave as she and Ron stormed out.

Neither Ron nor Hermione stopped until they were halfway up the first flight of stairs in the Great Hall, where they both collapsed to the steps.

"Thrown out by that pompous windbag – how humiliating!" Ron bemoaned.

Hermione snorted tightly. "Yeah – I've really got to stop ending my nights here after a dance…."

"What do you mean?" Ron shifted up from where he was slouched against the steps to peer at her.

Hermione turned to look at him sadly. She actually didn't blame him for not knowing, though she probably could have. She'd been angry with him then, for good reason, but now she was too tired to be angry with him. Not even about Lavender. She didn't want to fight with Ron, not anymore – these past several weeks apart had been agony. To watch him with Lavender and all the while think, That should be me that he's kissing! That should be me he's saying those sappy, lovey-dovey things to….

"Hermione?" She shuddered when she felt Ron's fingers brush her cheek, catching the teardrop from where it was blazing a trail down her face.

"When….. after we rowed following the Yule Ball, about… about Viktor…." She breathed in deeply, voice breaking at the painful memory. "I spent about an hour after you and Harry went to bed just sitting on these steps and crying my eyes out."

Ron looked thoroughly ashamed with himself. "I'm sorry," he finally got out. "For everything. For Krum, for Lavender, all of it."

"I hope that rather blanket apology doesn't include punching MacLaggen," Hermione smirked wetly. "I can't believe you walloped him for me…."

"To defend your honor? I'd do it again," Ron growled. "I'll always care for…." He stopped himself, started again. "Sod it, I'm always going to love you, Hermione – no matter what. And I'm sorry…." He breathed in. "And I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like that was something…. you had to earn."

She gazed at him in utter amazement, her heart melting. She gulped. "Don't let Lavender hear you say that," she reminded him for the second time. Her voice was only a whisper.

Taking her face in his hands, Ron drew her close, tilting her head up. His mouth was but a hair's-breadth away. "Sod Lavender."

"But why on Earth would you – would we….?"

Hermione didn't finish, as Ron's lips suddenly met hers in a kiss that knocked the breath from her lungs. He kissed her full on the mouth, intensely at first, and then easing back so that his lips were ghosting over hers lightly; they both closed their eyes at the touch. When she didn't pull away, Ron went back to pressing a little harder and they both moaned softly. After a beautiful ten seconds he pulled away and they opened their eyes to stare at one another.

Without warning, Hermione let out a small squeak, pulled him closer by his collar and gently probed her tongue into his mouth. With an exhale of pleasure, she let her lips part and petal open against his, like a flower bursting into full bloom, and she hummed in bliss, her fingers weaving into his auburn locks. "Hmmmm... Mmmmmhmmmmm..." Gasping and sighing they explored each other, their passion growing deeper the longer they kissed.

Eventually they broke free, needing to breathe more than anything else. Ron backed up to the wall and leant against it, drunkenly.

"Blimey," was the only verbal response he could offer.

"Blimey," Hermione agreed with a smile as she got her breath back.

She giggled when Ron proceeded to tug her fully onto his lap, audaciously enough that she was nearly straddling him, and kiss her again. Hair a mussy mess, her face flushed, Hermione sank into the kiss and trembled with triumphant glee when Ron dared to cup her breast with his palm.

Sod it. She tugged him behind the statue of the One-Eyed Witch where they proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of one another.

It was the best snog of Hermione's whole bloody life.


Meanwhile, back in the party, Harry and Luna were still dancing awkwardly.

"I can understand why you don't want to hold me too close, Harry; the Nargles can bite if too people are pressed together too tightly. But they don't break the skin, so I wouldn't mind…."

Harry tossed his head in frustration, mostly at his own impotence. Luna's soft voice and her smile – which had, in a first, become progressively more strained through the night – faded as he growled:

"That does it! Am I the Chosen One or aren't I?" With that, he took Luna by her waist and pulled her close, so that she was flush right up against him. "Let the Nargles do what they like with me, woman! I don't want to hear another word about them, or I'll…."

Luna stared at him, appearing a little shocked at his vehemence, but also thrilled too. "You'll do what?" Harry took it as a challenge.

Sweeping Luna into a dip, he smashed his lips against hers in a bruising kiss. He heard, felt Luna gasp, and then hum in pleasure into his mouth as her silky arms glided up his shoulders, and her fingers sank into his hair as she dared to kiss him back.

They embraced and held and snogged each other like that for several minutes until Luna let out a tiny whimper. Harry quickly lifted, swept her up out of the dip and he and Luna broke apart, their arms still wound about each other. Both were panting and flushing, and ignoring completely the wolf-whistles and catcalls from the other guests who had witnessed the whole display.

"Well…." Luna huffed breathlessly, licking her kiss-swollen lips. "That was quite dramatic!" Then, she smiled at Harry beatifically. "I knew you could do it," she praised him, eyes and voice tinged with pride. Meeting Harry's piercing hazel stare, she blushed crimson, prattling. "At any rate, the Nargles must have really gone to your head…."

"Want me to kiss you again?" Harry growled huskily, and it didn't sound like an idle threat.

Silver orbs expanding as large as moons, Luna swallowed dryly. "Yes, please," she squeaked. And when Harry yanked her back into his arms and kissed her again, snogged the living daylights out her, Luna triumphantly flung her arms around his neck, tangling her soft fingers once again into his untamed black locks.

When Harry forced her willing mouth open with his own to twist his tongue about hers, Luna gallingly felt all the wet dampness flood her knickers under her canary-yellow dress. Sod it. She hiked her leg up and hooked it around his torso, dragging Harry by his waist off the dance floor and behind the wall tapestry.

They continued to snog back there for the rest of the night.