Title: Grinning with a Lost Stare.
Author Name: Let Me Breathe AKA Orla-Destiny and Fiery Punk Princess.
Author Notes: OK, this fic, being R/Hr is really a one-time thing for Orla and me as we are both major D/Hr fans (yes, I can hear all you R/Hr shippers groaning and throwing food our way, but stay and read this lousy piece of work!). Crap title, we are aware, but we couldn't think of one and then Avril Lavigne's Losing Grip (I am soooo not a fan of that song. I've heard it too many times! No offence to Avril fans of course as I am a minor one!) and thought "Grinning with a Lost Stare" was OK for this fic as it sorta applies. Keep in mind this is un-beta-ed and took hardly ANY time to right when you review nudge, nudge - wink, wink!!! I hope you all enjoy! ~ Karalee "Fiery".
Disclaimer: Orla-Destiny Randle and Karalee Rowe are legally the creators and owners of everything Harry Potter! HA! We wish . Nah. it all belongs to J.K.Rowling and her various publishes and Warner Bros. And all them lucky, lucky people!!!
Grinning with a Lost Stare
By Let Me Breathe
- ~ * Hermione's POV * ~ -
I sat on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, watching silently as Ron scribbled away frantically on a piece of parchment, stopping occasionally to think about what he was going to write.
"Why didn't you do your essay last night when I suggested, Ron?" I asked, taking in the worried expression that crossed his face as he looked at his watch. "I told you that you were going to have to rush right at the last minute and what are you doing? Exactly that!"
"Hermione," Ron groaned, looking up from his work at me, "why do you have to be such a nag? I know you were right and next time you suggest I do my homework before it gets too late, I'll do it."
"I'm not nagging Ron!" I snap, looking away and studying Harry instead. He was staring deeply into the fire, obviously in thought and, judging by the small smile that curved his lips, good thought.
I often wonder why Ron can't be more like Harry at times. Harry tries his hardest to get his homework done when he can. Harry doesn't argue with me about everything I do or say. Harry doesn't tease me about my brains or my beliefs. Harry doesn't make false assumptions when I do something as simple as write a letter. Harry doesn't get jealous every time I mention the name "Viktor".
Oh, yes, the jealousy factor with Ron. It never ends. I could begin to say the word "Bulgaria" and his head will instantly shoot around and he'll be like, "Yeah, what about Bulgaria?" Or I might be referring to something Viktor once said and Ron would instantly become very alert, narrow his deep blue eyes at me and ask, "Yeah, what did your precious Vicky say?" with the name "Vicky" or "Krum" coming out in a bitter tone full of spite and hatred.
I just don't understand it, but no matter how many times I assure Ron that Viktor Krum and I are just friends, he just doesn't listen or take it in, and he just seems to be getting more jealous with every mention. I just wish that he'd just wake up to himself and realise the feelings that everyone but he, including me, can see he holds for me.
At least Harry isn't that oblivious!
But Ron will never be more like Harry. In fact, that's almost a good thing. Ron just wouldn't be the same if he had any of Harry's good traits. Ron is Ron and I could never, ever ask for something more. I'm not falling in love with a Ron that's partially Harry, I am falling in love with a Ron that is one hundred percent Ronald Weasley and I never want him to change.
There, I said it! I admitted that I am falling in love with Ron and the idea, in a way, freaks me out! I have never, not once admitted my feelings to or for anyone aloud! I never told Harry back in our first year that I had a small crush on him. I never admitted how much I couldn't keep my eyes off Ron at the Yule Ball in fourth year and how much I just wanted to run forward and kiss him when we fought in the common room afterwards. I never confessed to having thoughts and dreams about Ron kissing me and holding me close when all the tension between us first began in our third year. In fact, I have no intention whatsoever in confessing any of that to anyone!
But my feelings for Ron now are really starting to become hard to keep to myself. They are seriously driving me mad - damn teenage hormones - and I can't help but make them more obvious to watches by. I'm constantly saying little things that I know he'll comment on. I'm always attempting to catch his eye and smiling at him. And I also seem to have the tendency of staring at him without even really realising it and getting lost in my complicated thoughts about him and my feelings for him.
Just like I am right this very moment.
Quickly, I look away and around at the people surrounding us. Everyone seems to be too occupied by the things they were doing to even bother paying attention to me, the oldest female Gryffindor prefect staring dreamily at the male one. However, I did feel one set of eyes on me and, taking another look around at the crowded room, my eyes landed on Harry, whose gaze had ventured from the empty fireplace to take in what mine was set on.
Harry smirked and pointed his head at the doorway leading to the stairs up to the Gryffindor boys' dormitories with a meaningful, yet amused look in his emerald green eyes.
I hesitate before slowly standing, knowing exactly what was coming. Harry stood as well and led the way towards the doorway. I steal one last glance at Ron, oblivious to his two best friends, before following Harry. We reach the third landing before he spoke.
"You like Ron, don't you, Hermione?"
"Of course I like Ron," I said innocently. "He's one of my best friends!" I knew completely well that that wouldn't be convincing, but I really didn't want to admit anything too abruptly.
"Hermione, I know that you don't sit there staring at me for half an hour straight," Harry said, casting me a knowing glance.
"I wasn't staring at him for that long!" I corrected, not resigning completely. We had reached the top of the staircase, where the door into the sixth-year boys' dormitory stood open, and we headed in.
"Hermione," Harry said slowly, "there's no need for you to deny your feelings for him. I swear I am truly over his attitude about his overly obvious feelings for you and I think I'm going to go nuts if something doesn't happen between you two soon! I watch you, nearly every night, staring at him for what seems like forever, obviously lost in thought, a mysterious little smile curving your lips and the occasional flush in the cheeks as you obviously think of something you don't want anyone else to know about. And he does the same. You know he does! You two are truly, like onlookers say, like lovesick hippogriffs!"
I sputtered. "Lovesick hippogriffs?!" I cried. "You have to be kidding me, Harry! Ron and I most certainly aren't lovesick!"
"Who and you aren't lovesick?" asked a familiar voice as Ron entered the room, a suspicious expression on his face.
My face flushed pink quicker than you could say "Damn it!" I looked quickly from him to Harry, whose face was still formed in that same amused expression he had been using when he'd been talking to me. His green eyes glittered maliciously behind his glasses and he slowly made towards the door, not saying a word in his process. Reaching the door, he glanced back at me with a meaningful look at Ron out of the corner of his eye.
Ron watched him leave and close the door with a confused expression on his face. Once the door was closed, however, he shrugged to himself and walked over to his bed and sat down on it. He looked up at me and gave me that lopsided smile that always caused pleasant chills to run through my body.
"So." he started awkwardly. It had been a while since Ron and I had been left alone in the same room together. ". I got my essay done," he finished, looking away.
Schoolwork. It's probably what he thinks I want to talk about.
"Ron," I said nervously, "there's something I need to discuss with you."
Ron looked hesitant. "It not another lecture about me always leaving my homework to the last minute is it?" he stated, "because if it is, I don't want to hear it."
"This hasn't got anything to do with school, Ron," I state irritably. Ron frowned. "It has to with you and me and our . relationship."
"Relationship?" Ron repeated quickly in a would-be blank voice.
"Yes, Ron," I replied, "I want to talk to you about our relationship. I think we should sit down and, civilly, talk. No arguing, no mention of Viktor. Just you and me, discussing . us."
Ron still looked hesitant but obliged by moving a little and allowing me to sit down and join him on the bed, facing him.
"So what do you mean by us, Hermione?" he said.
I took a deep breath, rather ignoring his question. "We've know each other for how long? Five and a bit years, since first-year. I can remember our tiny selves back in first-year, bickering over the tiniest things . and that still hasn't changed. It seems to become our favourite hobby - bickering about the smallest, simplest things as people watch on and comment about it. But the tension between us is getting too much, Ron. It's been building, so steadily and rapidly since fourth-year and I fight to work out why when the answer has always been in my head, in my heart. I've always known the answer. But, as I said, this tension is getting too much I can hardly stand it any longer. Every time an argument exits your mouth and is fired at me, I just want to run forward and kiss you and tell you what kind of effect all your words, all your comments, all your jealousy, and all your feelings have on me. It drives me mad knowing, through all the prominent evidence, that you feel the same way and yet I can't act on it until I hear it from your mouth . or feel it from your mouth. There has been so many times over the last couple of years that we have been so close to kissing - prefect duties, over the summer - and then something always happens and I find myself, waiting for the next time."
Ron stared at me, his ears extremely red. I could tell, by the look on his face, that he hadn't expected me to say as much as I did, to admit as much as I did. He took in my expression and hesitated.
"I like you an awful lot, 'Mione," he said anxiously, his voice slightly squeaky. "I wanted to tell you . but I couldn't. I was so scared you'd reject me . I mean, who would want a great git like me?"
"Me," I said and, without a second thought, I lent in and let my lips kiss his softly. I withdrew to look at him carefully, his eyelids shut over those ocean-deep blue eyes that I always seem to get lost in. His cheeks had turned slightly pink amount the many freckles and a goofy, lopsided grin curved his lips.
"That's the first time a girl's ever kissed me like that," he said as he opened his eyes. "Well . besides Luna at the start of the term."
I laughed. "Luna kissed you?" I said. Ron nodded, a slightly disgusted expression on his face. I laughed again. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Are you mad? I didn't want you to think I liked Loony Lovegood!" Ron claimed.
I smiled at him. "Well, I hope she never kissed you like this." And I lent forward until I was almost sitting in his lap and kissed him deeper than earlier, caressing his lips passionately with mine. He kissed me back deeply, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer.
As we each withdrew slightly, I had to admit I was one very lucky girl to be sitting here, in Ron Weasley's arms, having just experienced the most overwhelming kiss (even if it was my first) of my life.
The End
Author Name: Let Me Breathe AKA Orla-Destiny and Fiery Punk Princess.
Author Notes: OK, this fic, being R/Hr is really a one-time thing for Orla and me as we are both major D/Hr fans (yes, I can hear all you R/Hr shippers groaning and throwing food our way, but stay and read this lousy piece of work!). Crap title, we are aware, but we couldn't think of one and then Avril Lavigne's Losing Grip (I am soooo not a fan of that song. I've heard it too many times! No offence to Avril fans of course as I am a minor one!) and thought "Grinning with a Lost Stare" was OK for this fic as it sorta applies. Keep in mind this is un-beta-ed and took hardly ANY time to right when you review nudge, nudge - wink, wink!!! I hope you all enjoy! ~ Karalee "Fiery".
Disclaimer: Orla-Destiny Randle and Karalee Rowe are legally the creators and owners of everything Harry Potter! HA! We wish . Nah. it all belongs to J.K.Rowling and her various publishes and Warner Bros. And all them lucky, lucky people!!!
Grinning with a Lost Stare
By Let Me Breathe
- ~ * Hermione's POV * ~ -
I sat on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, watching silently as Ron scribbled away frantically on a piece of parchment, stopping occasionally to think about what he was going to write.
"Why didn't you do your essay last night when I suggested, Ron?" I asked, taking in the worried expression that crossed his face as he looked at his watch. "I told you that you were going to have to rush right at the last minute and what are you doing? Exactly that!"
"Hermione," Ron groaned, looking up from his work at me, "why do you have to be such a nag? I know you were right and next time you suggest I do my homework before it gets too late, I'll do it."
"I'm not nagging Ron!" I snap, looking away and studying Harry instead. He was staring deeply into the fire, obviously in thought and, judging by the small smile that curved his lips, good thought.
I often wonder why Ron can't be more like Harry at times. Harry tries his hardest to get his homework done when he can. Harry doesn't argue with me about everything I do or say. Harry doesn't tease me about my brains or my beliefs. Harry doesn't make false assumptions when I do something as simple as write a letter. Harry doesn't get jealous every time I mention the name "Viktor".
Oh, yes, the jealousy factor with Ron. It never ends. I could begin to say the word "Bulgaria" and his head will instantly shoot around and he'll be like, "Yeah, what about Bulgaria?" Or I might be referring to something Viktor once said and Ron would instantly become very alert, narrow his deep blue eyes at me and ask, "Yeah, what did your precious Vicky say?" with the name "Vicky" or "Krum" coming out in a bitter tone full of spite and hatred.
I just don't understand it, but no matter how many times I assure Ron that Viktor Krum and I are just friends, he just doesn't listen or take it in, and he just seems to be getting more jealous with every mention. I just wish that he'd just wake up to himself and realise the feelings that everyone but he, including me, can see he holds for me.
At least Harry isn't that oblivious!
But Ron will never be more like Harry. In fact, that's almost a good thing. Ron just wouldn't be the same if he had any of Harry's good traits. Ron is Ron and I could never, ever ask for something more. I'm not falling in love with a Ron that's partially Harry, I am falling in love with a Ron that is one hundred percent Ronald Weasley and I never want him to change.
There, I said it! I admitted that I am falling in love with Ron and the idea, in a way, freaks me out! I have never, not once admitted my feelings to or for anyone aloud! I never told Harry back in our first year that I had a small crush on him. I never admitted how much I couldn't keep my eyes off Ron at the Yule Ball in fourth year and how much I just wanted to run forward and kiss him when we fought in the common room afterwards. I never confessed to having thoughts and dreams about Ron kissing me and holding me close when all the tension between us first began in our third year. In fact, I have no intention whatsoever in confessing any of that to anyone!
But my feelings for Ron now are really starting to become hard to keep to myself. They are seriously driving me mad - damn teenage hormones - and I can't help but make them more obvious to watches by. I'm constantly saying little things that I know he'll comment on. I'm always attempting to catch his eye and smiling at him. And I also seem to have the tendency of staring at him without even really realising it and getting lost in my complicated thoughts about him and my feelings for him.
Just like I am right this very moment.
Quickly, I look away and around at the people surrounding us. Everyone seems to be too occupied by the things they were doing to even bother paying attention to me, the oldest female Gryffindor prefect staring dreamily at the male one. However, I did feel one set of eyes on me and, taking another look around at the crowded room, my eyes landed on Harry, whose gaze had ventured from the empty fireplace to take in what mine was set on.
Harry smirked and pointed his head at the doorway leading to the stairs up to the Gryffindor boys' dormitories with a meaningful, yet amused look in his emerald green eyes.
I hesitate before slowly standing, knowing exactly what was coming. Harry stood as well and led the way towards the doorway. I steal one last glance at Ron, oblivious to his two best friends, before following Harry. We reach the third landing before he spoke.
"You like Ron, don't you, Hermione?"
"Of course I like Ron," I said innocently. "He's one of my best friends!" I knew completely well that that wouldn't be convincing, but I really didn't want to admit anything too abruptly.
"Hermione, I know that you don't sit there staring at me for half an hour straight," Harry said, casting me a knowing glance.
"I wasn't staring at him for that long!" I corrected, not resigning completely. We had reached the top of the staircase, where the door into the sixth-year boys' dormitory stood open, and we headed in.
"Hermione," Harry said slowly, "there's no need for you to deny your feelings for him. I swear I am truly over his attitude about his overly obvious feelings for you and I think I'm going to go nuts if something doesn't happen between you two soon! I watch you, nearly every night, staring at him for what seems like forever, obviously lost in thought, a mysterious little smile curving your lips and the occasional flush in the cheeks as you obviously think of something you don't want anyone else to know about. And he does the same. You know he does! You two are truly, like onlookers say, like lovesick hippogriffs!"
I sputtered. "Lovesick hippogriffs?!" I cried. "You have to be kidding me, Harry! Ron and I most certainly aren't lovesick!"
"Who and you aren't lovesick?" asked a familiar voice as Ron entered the room, a suspicious expression on his face.
My face flushed pink quicker than you could say "Damn it!" I looked quickly from him to Harry, whose face was still formed in that same amused expression he had been using when he'd been talking to me. His green eyes glittered maliciously behind his glasses and he slowly made towards the door, not saying a word in his process. Reaching the door, he glanced back at me with a meaningful look at Ron out of the corner of his eye.
Ron watched him leave and close the door with a confused expression on his face. Once the door was closed, however, he shrugged to himself and walked over to his bed and sat down on it. He looked up at me and gave me that lopsided smile that always caused pleasant chills to run through my body.
"So." he started awkwardly. It had been a while since Ron and I had been left alone in the same room together. ". I got my essay done," he finished, looking away.
Schoolwork. It's probably what he thinks I want to talk about.
"Ron," I said nervously, "there's something I need to discuss with you."
Ron looked hesitant. "It not another lecture about me always leaving my homework to the last minute is it?" he stated, "because if it is, I don't want to hear it."
"This hasn't got anything to do with school, Ron," I state irritably. Ron frowned. "It has to with you and me and our . relationship."
"Relationship?" Ron repeated quickly in a would-be blank voice.
"Yes, Ron," I replied, "I want to talk to you about our relationship. I think we should sit down and, civilly, talk. No arguing, no mention of Viktor. Just you and me, discussing . us."
Ron still looked hesitant but obliged by moving a little and allowing me to sit down and join him on the bed, facing him.
"So what do you mean by us, Hermione?" he said.
I took a deep breath, rather ignoring his question. "We've know each other for how long? Five and a bit years, since first-year. I can remember our tiny selves back in first-year, bickering over the tiniest things . and that still hasn't changed. It seems to become our favourite hobby - bickering about the smallest, simplest things as people watch on and comment about it. But the tension between us is getting too much, Ron. It's been building, so steadily and rapidly since fourth-year and I fight to work out why when the answer has always been in my head, in my heart. I've always known the answer. But, as I said, this tension is getting too much I can hardly stand it any longer. Every time an argument exits your mouth and is fired at me, I just want to run forward and kiss you and tell you what kind of effect all your words, all your comments, all your jealousy, and all your feelings have on me. It drives me mad knowing, through all the prominent evidence, that you feel the same way and yet I can't act on it until I hear it from your mouth . or feel it from your mouth. There has been so many times over the last couple of years that we have been so close to kissing - prefect duties, over the summer - and then something always happens and I find myself, waiting for the next time."
Ron stared at me, his ears extremely red. I could tell, by the look on his face, that he hadn't expected me to say as much as I did, to admit as much as I did. He took in my expression and hesitated.
"I like you an awful lot, 'Mione," he said anxiously, his voice slightly squeaky. "I wanted to tell you . but I couldn't. I was so scared you'd reject me . I mean, who would want a great git like me?"
"Me," I said and, without a second thought, I lent in and let my lips kiss his softly. I withdrew to look at him carefully, his eyelids shut over those ocean-deep blue eyes that I always seem to get lost in. His cheeks had turned slightly pink amount the many freckles and a goofy, lopsided grin curved his lips.
"That's the first time a girl's ever kissed me like that," he said as he opened his eyes. "Well . besides Luna at the start of the term."
I laughed. "Luna kissed you?" I said. Ron nodded, a slightly disgusted expression on his face. I laughed again. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Are you mad? I didn't want you to think I liked Loony Lovegood!" Ron claimed.
I smiled at him. "Well, I hope she never kissed you like this." And I lent forward until I was almost sitting in his lap and kissed him deeper than earlier, caressing his lips passionately with mine. He kissed me back deeply, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer.
As we each withdrew slightly, I had to admit I was one very lucky girl to be sitting here, in Ron Weasley's arms, having just experienced the most overwhelming kiss (even if it was my first) of my life.
The End