This is a song fic to "Can't Fight This Feeling" by Reo Speedwagon. I was listening to this song the other day, and I suddenly realized that it made the perfect Ron/Hermione fic, so I had to write it.
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and related ideas belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros. Studios. I'm not trying to make any money off of this, plus I'm poor. Please don't sue me.
center~*~/center
Hermione shifted restlessly in her seat, unable to find a comfortable positioning the hard, wooden chair in the library. But it wasn't the chair that was causing her discomfort. The source of discomfort came from the person sitting next to her: Ron Weasley, her best friend for seven years, her crush for six years, and the source of every tear that rolled down her cheek, every laugh that came from her mouth, and every pause in her heartbeat during that time frame. And Hermione Granger treasured every minute of it. Because with every tear came the heartfelt apologies, with every laugh came more laughter, and every pause in her heartbeat...well, those were useless because Ron had never noticed. Hermione refocused back on her Potions essay. Snape had been particularly snarky lately, and Hermione needed to be extra careful on this essay. Double, triple, even quadruple-checking her spelling, her facts. Making sure that every "I" was dotted and every "T" was crossed. She would give no reason for Snape to mark off precious points. In less than five minutes, Hermione found herself glancing at Ron out of the corner of her eye. It took another five minutes for Hermione to even notice what she was doing. Once she did, however, Hermione let out a loud sigh of frustration. This was driving her crazy! She didn't know how much longer she could go without doing something about this enormous crush (she thought naïvely) she had on Ron.
"Are you okay, Hermione?" Ron asked. "I mean, if you're not okay with this Potions essay, then it's going to be impossible for me."
Hermione smiled at the compliment, though she was sure he didn't mean it as one. "No Ron. It's not the essay."
Ron sighed with relief. "Good. I'm doing poorly enough in his class as it is." There was a brief pause before Ron spoke again. "Then what is wrong?"
II can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show/I
Hermione cursed inwardly, wishing she had never been frustrated enough to make noises about it. She searched her mind frantically for a suitable excuse, but nothing was coming to her. Unless...unless she told him part of the truth. Not all of it, obviously, but enough to make him go back to doing his homework. "Oh it's nothing. Just something that's been bothering me for a while. Do you need any help with your essay?" Hermione congratulated herself on her ability to tell the truth, and then quickly distract Ron before he got any ideas.
"No thanks, but thanks for offering. Now what's this that's been bothering you? It must be serious if you're trying to distract me by offering your help." Ron continued to ask.
Hermione cursed inwardly, again, for Ron's unwavering attention. Why did this have to be the first time that he wasn't distracted by her offers to help him with his homework? "Well...um...you see..." Hermione, again, tried desperately to think of a reasonable excuse. Ron watched her with an amused look on his face, and suddenly Hermione was tired of avoiding her feelings. It was only a few months until they graduated anyway. If he hated her because of it, she could get by for a little longer. "It's something about you, Ron," she admitted at last.
II tell myself that I can't hold out forever
I say there is no reason for my fear
'Cause I feel so secure when we're together
You give my life direction,
you make everything so clear/I
Ron looked taken aback. "Me? What'd I do? I'm sorry for whatever it is. You know I didn't mean it. I was just so-."
Hermione cut him off. "It's not a bad thing, Ron," she assured him. "Just something that's been bothering me more than usual lately."
Ron put his feet up on the table, tipping his chair back. He looked straight ahead for several moments, contemplating what to say next. "Is it a good something, or a bad something?"
Hermione thought for a moment, wanting to give Ron an honest answer, while at the same time regretting her choice to get the feelings out of the way and giving in to the urge to blush madly. "It's a good thing when I get a positive response from you, but it's a bad thing when I think that I'm seeing things that aren't there. Or when something happens that would definitely be counted as a 'negative response.'"
Ron's face screwed up in confusion. "Huh?"
Hermione just smiled, and shook her head before going back to editing her Potions essay. Inwardly, she smirked to herself. Ron really was a very bright person, which made it all the more fun to confuse him. Hermione always tried to do this as often as possible, as it was especially endearing to see his confused look.
IAnd even as I wander I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might/I
Several moments later, when Hermione had just gotten into the rhythm of editing, Ron gently elbowed her in the side.
"Can you give me some examples of my 'responses' so that I can figure out what you're talking about?" Ron asked her. "Since you're obviously not going to come right out and say it."
Hermione thought for a moment, wondering if she should tell him. Then she remembered something her mother had once told her. "Men are so clueless," Mrs. Granger had said. "They never notice anything. Why, your father didn't give any hint that he liked me, nor did he understand that I liked him, until after I finally gave up and made these really huge, obvious hints." "Where's your Gryffindor courage now, Hermione? This is why people are sorted into Gryffindor in the first place. Not everyone can be expected to take Harry's role in life," she thought to herself.
"Well, when we were in first year, you saved me from the troll, and helped Harry and I move ahead to save the Sorcerer's Stone. Those were positive responses. And in second year, when you stood up for me when Malfoy called me the M-word and spent all day vomiting slugs for my virtue. That was a positive response. Third year, for the most part, was not good. That was absolutely chocked full of negative responses. Like when you thought that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and then when I wanted to check Harry's Firebolt for hexes. Except for the one occasion when you yelled at Snape when he substituted for Professor Lupin, the entire year was one negative response," Hermione told him.
Glancing over at Ron, she noticed that he still looked very confused. It was almost funny how he didn't know what she was talking about. Key word: almost.
"Fourth and fifth years are by my favorites though. Except for right before the Yule Ball, when you first found out I had a date. And you said, quote: 'Neville's right, Hermione. You are a girl!' That was the only negative response I got in two years. It was absolutely wonderful. But every time you asked me who I was going with instead, I could pretend that offering Harry a date with Ginny so that you could go with me was on purpose rather than convenient. Every time you glared in my direction during the Ball, I could pretend you were just jealous. And then in fifth year, before your first Quidditch match, when I let this something get away from me and I kissed you on the cheek. I turned around before I could see your face, but Parvati told me that you stood there "stupidly," she says, holding your cheek for a moment or two afterwards. Those were all positive responses. And when you bought me perfume for Christmas, that was a wonderfully positive response," Hermione said, feeling jubilant. It seemed like, now that she thought of it, maybe Ron did return this something, and maybe she wasn't the only one. But it wasn't ever too good to get one's hopes up.
IAnd I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I've started fighting for
It's time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars forever /I
However, just as she was trying to get her hopes down, something else did it for her.
Sixth year. Hermione sat stricken, and just as Ron was about to speak, Hermione interrupted him. "And then last year, nothing happened. Neither negative nor positive responses. No chance whatsoever that this something wasn't just in me. Sorry for taking up so much of your time." Then she faked a huge yawn and packed her things, all the while chattering over Ron's attempts to respond. "My goodness, I hadn't realized it was so late. I really should be in bed. You know, we have Transfiguration tomorrow, and I can't be falling asleep in McGonagall's class. That would just be awful."
Then Hermione packed up her bag and turned to leave. But something made her stop. She didn't know what it was, so she said the only thing that came to mind. "This conversation right here is going on my list of negative responses, just so you know." Hermione scuttled quickly out of the library and on up to Gryffindor tower on the seventh floor. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she muttered to herself, running as fast as she could, which wasn't very fast considering the size of her book bag. And not once, from the time she left the library until her head the pillow on her bed, did Hermione hear Ron's voice asking her to stop. Through the haze of the sadness and silent tears, Hermione made a note to herself to add those two things to her list of negative responses.
I'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I've started fighting for
And if I have to crawl upon the floor come crashing through your door
Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore /I
Hermione woke up miserable the next morning, and it took her a few moments to understand why. Once she remembered, it was all she could do to keep herself from crying all over again. "How did I ever think I would be able to make it through the rest of my seventh year without Ron?" she berated herself as she showered, and as she dressed, and as she wearily readied her books for the day. Harry and Ron were waiting for her when she came downstairs, but Hermione brushed right by them and left for the Great Hall on her own. She spent all of breakfast telling Ginny that no, it was not okay, but no, she did not want to talk about it just then.
Hermione sat with Neville during Potions that morning, and it was only her love for academics that kept her focused during class that day. Otherwise, their melted cauldron would have been her fault, rather than Neville's. Their next two classes were Double Divination and Arithmancy, a fact for which Hermione praised all that she considered holy that it would be far easier to avoid Ron if the two of them were on opposite ends of the great castle. The afternoon was much more difficult, with Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures, both of which were classes where Hermione usually sat next to Ron at the end of their three person row. In order to get the seat the Harry usually occupied at the opposite end, in hopes that Harry would sit in the middle if she did, Hermione had to run from Arithmancy. She barely made it there, and fortunately, Harry took the hint.
Everything was going well until Harry slipped a small, folded piece of parchment on to her desk, next to her elbow. '-Hermione' was all it say on the top.
Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall caught them. "Mr. Potter," she demanded. "I will not tolerate note passing in my class."
"It was my fault, Professor." Ron spoke up before Harry could say anything.
Professor McGonagall snatched the note off Hermione's desk. "Indeed Mr. Weasley. Perhaps I should just read this out loud to the class, so that in the future, you will refrain from passing notes. Anything you say to Ms. Granger in the future should be done outside of class." Professor McGonagall unfolded the note, cleared her throat, and began to read out loud. "Hermione, I'm really sorry. I tried to respond the way I really wanted to, but I was in too much shock. I never thought you would say that. There's too much to say in a note, so could you please meet me in the library after dinner. Please? -Ron."
Both Hermione and Ron were a deep shade of red, for similar, yet different, reasons.
"Don't get your hopes up, Hermione," she thought furiously to herself. "Remember what happened yesterday?"
Professor McGonagall just smiled knowingly. "Ms. Granger, do you mind if I perform a small charm on this? I believe several of the staff members owe me a few galleons."
Hermione turned an even deeper shade of red as she nodded. Professor McGonagall quickly performed the charm, which Hermione looked up later. Apparently, the charm was designed to make and send immediate copies to all the persons the caster mentioned. Afterwards, the note was returned to her. "I do hope, Ms. Granger, that you will deign to meet Mr. Weasley in the library as he has requested." And then class continued as normal.
IMy life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you
I've been runnin' round in circles in my mind
And it always seems that I'm following you [boy]
'Cause you take me to the places that alone I'd never find /I
That is, class continued normally for everyone except Hermione. It was near impossible to concentrate, and Hermione did try. She tried to pay attention very hard. But Hermione had never before realized how hard it is to concentrate when adolescent troubles are on the mind.
What does Ron want?
Don't get your hopes up.
What did McGonagall mean by it when she said the staff and faculty owed her money?
The questions tumbled around in her brain, despite her efforts to take notes on turning quills into parchment. Eventually, Hermione gave up. She would get the notes from Harry, who she noticed was taking them for once. Even if the notes weren't very good, she could always go to the library and do research to supplement them. Somehow, Hermione had the feeling that Professor McGonagall would understand. Care of Magical Creatures and the free class before dinner drug on like nothing had ever drug before. Hagrid had given her a wink during class, and Madame Pince had actually given Hermione a pass that would get her a "Free Signature for Access to Any Book in the Restricted Section." Not only was Hermione highly confused by all the looks the teachers were giving her, it was even impossible for Hermione to remember the charm used to make copies. Not that she'd ever admit to it. Finally, it was time for supper. And while Hermione had expected that to drag on as well, her nervousness had just the opposite effect. Dinner had never flown by faster than it did that day.
IAnd even as I wander I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might /I
Hermione was the last one to leave the Great Hall, and when she finally did leave, all the teachers were watching. It was more than a bit unnerving. "It's going to be alright, Hermione," she told herself. "Just take deep breaths. You must achieve a Zen-like calm. Just remember what the book said...." It took Hermione almost twenty minutes to make the walk to the Library. Upon her entrance into the book-filled room, Hermione looked around the room for Ron, albeit not very hard. "I guess he's not here," Hermione remarked to herself almost as soon as she stepped foot in the room. She turned around to leave, planning to head back to the seventh year girls' dorm in order to finish her homework. She was about to turn the corner to head back to Gryffindor Tower when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
"Hermione, wait!" Hermione turned and waited for Ron to catch up. "You said you'd meet me in the library," he stated once he'd caught up and they'd continued walking towards the Fat Lady.
"I didn't see you," Hermione replied.
Ron snorted. "I saw you. You weren't looking very hard."
Hermione blushed. "Well...I...." She couldn't think of anything to say other than the truth. "I didn't want to get hurt again. If you're just going to explain why you don't understand, or can't offer me a positive response in return, I really don't want to know. I can think up reasons all by myself."
Ron stopped and stared. "How can you actually think up reasons? There aren't any reasons!" he insisted.
Hermione stopped as well, looking at him incredulously as she turned around to look at him from the little bit she'd traveled without him. "I think you're confused, Ron," she said softly.
IAnd I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I've started fighting for
It's time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars forever/I
Ron shook his head and came up to stand near her. "Try me. Tell me; what do you think would be a reason for me to not send you a positive reaction?"
Hermione swallowed, not allowing herself to look at Ron's face. But she didn't need to. She could imagine every freckle that brushed across his wonderful nose. Hermione could see in her mind's eye those beautiful, red lips contrasting starkly to the pale skin of his face. She knew every detail of the clear blue of Ron's eyes, the fiercely guarded gates to his soul that she'd never been able to decipher. And somehow, Hermione knew that if she looked into them right now, she'd be allowed past those gates. And Hermione was afraid of what she would see. Oh Hermione knew at this point that Ron would not reject her, and that he had come to do something. But what exactly that "something" was, Hermione couldn't be too sure.
Not only that, but her confidence levels were ebbing at an all time low. She needed Ron to boost her confidence. "I'm a know-it-all," she whispered.
"I'll always be able to count on you to know an answer, and if you don't, I know you have the drive and motivation to find out what it is. Being a know-it-all tells me what kind of motivation you have to thrive in the wizarding world. You want to succeed, and you know how to do it. You're achieving your goals, and that, Hermione, is an admirable thing to do," Ron told her in a voice that was equally soft.
Hermione was stunned, but tried hard not to show it. Did Ron honestly feel this way?
"Try another one, Hermione," he said, truly wanting to know her insecurities when it came to him.
"I...I don't want to ruin our friendship. If I have to choose between our friendship and...something else, I'd choose friendship every time. It would be hard, but I'd always have you there," Hermione replied softly.
"Hermione, nothing can destroy our friendship. Voldemort's been trying for six years, almost seven, and he hasn't done it yet. What makes you think Harry will let anything that happens between us affect The Trio like that? What we have goes beyond mere school children feelings, and you know that. We have the potential to last forever, Hermione," Ron reminded her.
Hermione berated herself for her own stupidity. Of course he was right! Ron watched her closely, slowly invading her personal space, making her back up slowly, until she hit the wall.
"Something tells me you're saving the worst for last," Ron said with a small grin. "Tell poor Ronnie. He promises to make it better."
Hermione couldn't help but let out a small grin, before reverting back to her morose state. Then she blushed when she remembered her biggest concerned. It was really so very trivial. But Ron's pleading tone made her say it anyway. "I'm not pretty enough."
Ron guffawed loudly, until he noticed Hermione's serious _expression. "Blimey, you're serious, aren't you?"
Hermione looked at the ground, silently admiring their shoes. Ron sighed. "Hermione, I love your bushy, brown hair. It reminds me of chaos, and when you put that hair potion in it, I remember that all problems can be worked through," he said, tucking a strand of said hair gently behind her ear.
"I love your beautiful skin. It's just the right shade. Not too dark so that you'll contract that skin disease you're always lecturing me about, and not so light that people will think you're a redhead who's died her hair," Ron told her, running his fingers over her cheeks, as if tracing the shape of her facial structure.
"I love your cute button nose. It reminds me of innocence, and the way that we should be looking at the world, even though the chance has been stolen from us," he added, tapping her nose with the end of his index finger.
"I love your deep chocolate eyes," Ron whispered, lifting her chin with his left hand, encouraging her to look at him. It was impossible to refuse the silent request. "Every time I look into them, it's as if you're sharing a piece of yourself with me, whether you want to or not. And I love how I'm the only one who gets that insight into your heart." Ron's eyes, those deep blue eyes she could never get her mind off of, the same eyes that had unknowingly spent hours watching her, had glanced away every time she looked his way, lest she notice, those very same eyes had Hermione captivated. Even if she had wanted to, there wasn't a way Hermione could have looked away. Ron took a step forward, nearly eliminating all space between the two.
"I especially love your ruby red lips. Their perfect shape has caused me hours of agony as I tried to ignore their actions. I spent hours at a time watching them, memorizing everything they did. Did you know that you lick your lips approximately 15 times every day? And did you know that every time you licked your lips, I wanted to walk over to you, and demand that you stop because it was driving me crazy?" Hermione licked her lips. Ron chuckled. "That makes 17 times today. And now I'm going to do something I've wanted to do for a very long time."
Then he closed the small gap between their bodies, and kissed her. It was like nothing Hermione had ever experienced. It was both hot and cold, both chaste and passionate, both innocent and loving. The kiss did not last very long, but that hardly mattered to the two seventh year Gryffindors. They were both smiling when each pulled away for want of breath.
I'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I've started fighting for
And if I have to crawl upon the floor come crashing through your door
Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore/I
"I think I'm going to put this conversation on my list of positive reactions," Hermione told him, grinning. Ron just laughed and kissed her again.
THE END
center~*~/center
At least, I think it's the end. I currently have no plans for another chapter/sequel/thing, but if there is an overwhelming demand, I may try and rack my brain for SOMETHING.
Thanks to:
My best friend in the whole wide world, MJ (ff.net name: Foags)
And my wonderful beta-reader, KP (ff.net name: TheMan-EatingDustBunny)
You guys are the best! Reviewing brings more stories (maybe even with real plot *gasp!*), rewritten stories, and good karma.