Summary: Yes, another R/Hr fluffy one shot! Ron finally gets up the courage to ask out Hermione. Shocking! I heart reviews, by the way!
A/N: This flufflet came as a result of both an amusing image of Ron asking out Hermione and wanting a way to celebrate Rupert Grint's (plays Ron Weasley in the HP movies for anyone living in a box for the past few years) birthday. Hope you like it as much as I do...Also, I am sorry for the plot discrepancies—I realize Ron turned sixteen in fifth year and this did NOT happen but I just had to have him turn sixteen for this story!
Disclaimer: Not. Mine. But someday they could be! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Happy 16th birthday Rupert Grint 8-24-04!!
The Gift of Giving
Ron stood in front of the mirror in his dormitory, lips set determinedly as he straightened his gold-and-scarlet-striped tie with a decisive jerk.
He could do this. He was going to take matters into his own hands. He was going to use the Gryffindor courage he knew was in him. He was going to walk right up to Hermione, open his mouth, and...
...throw up all over her. He met his reflection's eyes and winced at the look of rampant panic he saw. Oh I can't do this! he told himself, pulling his tie hard enough to draw a strangled gasp from his esophagus.
"You really don't look at all well," the mirror told him sympathetically. "Are you feeling all right?"
No. "Yes. I'm fine."
Watching his reflection carefully, he pictured himself walking up to Hermione at breakfast. Practice made perfect, right?
"Hi, Her-MI-one!" his voice squeaked, a humiliating occurrence that hadn't troubled him in years (well, a couple, anyway).
He tried a deeper voice. "Oy, Hermione." The effect was less than impressive, since he had pitched his tone much lower than the situation warranted and sounded at least three octaves deeper than normal.
Just then Harry stepped in the room. He stopped short when he caught Ron's attempt at manliness, his hand on the door. He blinked. Without a word he turned and walked right back out the door, closing it behind him as he shook his head.
He really didn't want to know.
Ron frowned at the door, then turned back to the mirror, which was giggling hysterically. "Well, you don't have to bloody well laugh!" he exploded, blushing from the roots of his unruly red hair to the tips of his toes.
The mirror controlled itself with effort. "You're trying to impress a girl, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he muttered. He looked at the object askance. "Have any advice, do you?"
"Oh, no! I've been in a boy's dormitory all my life."
"Fat lot of help you are." Ron spun from the mirror and stomped out of the room. Harry was leaning against the wall outside, staring at the ceiling nonchalantly. "Don't. Say. A. Bloody. Word." Ron growled, brushing past his friend and striding toward the common room.
Harry followed close on his heels. "Gonna ask out Hermione, huh?"
"Shut up, Harry."
"Ask her to Hogsmeade tomorrow, huh?"
"Shut UP, Harry!"
"Di—"
"HARRY!" Ron stopped and spun around to face him. Harry backed off, holding his hands up in a sign of truce.
"I just wanted to ask, did you know your robes are on inside out?"
"AAAAGGGHHH!" Ron continued on to the common room in a fury, ripping off his robes and putting them on the right way. Harry shrugged and jogged after him, grinning.
Tomorrow is my sixteenth birthday, Ron reminded himself as he paused in the common room and sank onto a couch. Luckily, Hermione had already gone to breakfast. And this year, I'm giving myself a present.
Harry plopped down next to him. "So...what are you going to say?"
"I don't know." Miserable, he ran a hand through his hair. "Every time I look at her my brain starts bouncing against the walls of my skull and all the air in my body squeezes itself out of my lungs. I just end up yelling at her."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Sounds painful."
Ron sighed. "You have no idea."
"Look, Hermione has been our best friend forever. Just because you suddenly figured out she's a beautiful, intelligent, has great legs—"
"What did you say?" His voice was deadly.
Harry grinned. "Just kidding. Sorry. I like seeing your discomfort. It makes me feel better about myself. Anyway, just treat her the same as you normally do. Actually, maybe not. You can be a little nasty to her."
"Ha ha. Prat." Ron took a deep breath. "Let's go. I'm ready."
"You sure? Just remember, Hermione is your friend. Just go up to her, ask her if she'll go to Hogsmeade with you. Simple."
"What is she says no?" The panic was back, full force.
"Relax, Ron. She won't say no." I think, Harry added silently. He had never understood women, if his fumblings with Cho in past years was any indication.
"Thanks, Harry." Ron clapped him on the shoulder and started toward the Great Hall. "I needed that."
"Good luck, mate!" Harry called after him. Then he realized the common room was completely deserted. He slapped himself in the forehead. Matchmaking between his best friends had distracted him from the important issue of the day. "Wait up! I'm hungry too!"
Ron's eyes swept the Great Hall for a sight of Hermione. Finally his gaze lit on wavy brown hair and he hurried toward Gryffindor table. The girl was chatting amiably with Ginny, one elbow leaning on a pile of books. Ron shoved aside his younger sister and cleared his throat, ignoring her squawk of outrage.
Harry appeared behind him and steadied Ginny with a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry," he explained in a stage whisper, "Ron's going to ask out Hermione."
Ron glared daggers at Harry, but Ginny just said, "Finally." Hermione didn't appear to catch this exchange at all, eyes intent on Ron.
"Hermione...er..." He coughed into his fist and looked over his shoulder at Harry and Ginny, who were both smothering laughter. "Can I...talk to you?" She nodded. "Over here?" He grabbed her hand unceremoniously and dragged her into a corner of the hall, making sure no one could overhear them. Friday antics being what they were, no one paid the least amount of attention.
"Ron, what on earth is all this about?" Hermione demanded. She tugged at her hand. Just realizing he was still holding it, he dropped it as if she burned him and blushed.
"Uh. Hermione?" His planned speeches and mirror practice flew right out of his head. "Well, I wanted to..."
"To what?" Her arms were folded and her foot tapped the floor impatiently.
"Ask...Hogsmeade...you...me..." he said, rather lamely.
"You want to go to Hogsmeade with me?" she clarified, an odd look in her eyes.
Ron nodded, swallowing past the tightness in his throat and meeting her eyes with some difficulty. Please say yes. Please!
"Ron, we go to Hogsmeade together all the time."
He was going to have to actually say it this time. "No...what I mean is, do you want to go to Hogsmeade with just me? Not Harry. Just...me?" Just him? His advertising skills left something to be desired.
Her foot stopped tapping. Her arms dropped. "You mean...like a date?"
"Yeah. Yeah, a date."
Hermione had to force her heart to stop racing. He had finally figured it out. It had taken forever, but he had finally figured it out. "Yes." She said primly, not willing to let him know how excited she was.
"Yes, I'll go to Hogsmeade with you."
His mouth had dropped open in surprise. Did he really think she wouldn't want to go? Hadn't she made it obvious enough? Shaking her head at the thickness of boys, she brushed past him.
"Come on, Ron, or you won't have time for breakfast before classes start."
Ron stood in front of the mirror once again the next morning, smoothing down his hair with one hand and tugging at his shirt with the other. It was cold, even for March, and he was forced to tug on one of his truly awful Weasley sweaters to fight the weather.
"She said yes," he informed the mirror haughtily, rubbing at a speck of dirt obscuring some of the freckles on his cheek.
"Obviously." The mirror shot back, still sounding hurt from Ron's stormy outburst the morning before. "Good luck with that, then. Bloody women will only break your heart."
"What do you know?" Harry asked the mirror sardonically as he came up behind Ron. Looking at his friend, he gave him a reassuring smile. "How does it feel to be sixteen?"
"Bloody terrible."
"You'll be fine, but you better get going before Hermione gets impatient." Ron paled.
"What are you going to do while we're...busy?"
"Dunno. Poke about the Quidditch shop, I expect. Don't worry about it."
Harry pushed him toward the stairs. "You'll have fun. I promise."
Ron met Hermione at the bottom of the stairs. She looked adorable in a blue long-sleeved shirt and jeans, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. She smiled at him. "Hello."
"Uh. Hi."
Ron cursed himself. If he didn't get his act together, the day was going to be miserable.
He didn't know the half of it. First they had visited Zonko's and Ron had bought her a flower only to have it turn into a plastic rat as soon as she touched it. Then he had bought her a butterbeer and spilled it on both his sweater and on the ground. Throughout the entire day he'd been clumsy and stupid. He stuttered, he blushed, and generally make a clown out of himself.
Defeated, he stopped by a bench on the roadside and turned to Hermione. "Do you want to sit down?"
"Sure." They sat and Ron hunched over against the cold, staring at his feet.
"I'm sorry I'm such a bad date."
To his surprise, she laughed. "Ron, you're being ridiculous. Look at me." He did, looking so sheepish she laughed again. "Look. I like you. A lot. You're my best friend."
Ron who had brightened at her first sentences, deflated. "Hermione, you're my best friend too, but..."
She held up a hand. "Hold on, Ron. But, I also see you as something more. I have for a long time." A soft smile curved her lips. "I thought you'd never figure it out."
"I...I mean...uh..."
"Same to you." Suddenly she looked shy and anxious. "I am right, aren't I? You do like me as more than a friend?"
Ron nodded vigorously. "You have no idea."
She blew out a breath, and Ron realized that the entire day she had been just as tense as he. He grinned. "I've been acting like an idiot, haven't I?"
"No. But, since we know each other so well, don't you think we can skip the awkward first date stage?"
He laughed. "That's my Hermione. Always practical."
Hermione blushed a little at the endearment 'my' and smiled at him. "Practical?"
She suddenly lunged forward and pressed her lips onto Ron's. The kiss drew out, until finally they parted for breath, dizzy but blissful. Hermione's eyes were a little unfocused.
They heard a distant shout from one of their schoolmates, telling them to hurry up. It was time to go back to school.
Ron took a shaky breath and stood. Hermione stood with him and they began to walk back towards the school in silence. "Hermione?"
"Hm?"
"Do you...you know...um...want..."
"Do I want to be your girlfriend?"
"Yeah. Do you?"
"Absolutely." The two glanced shyly at each other, then looked forward again. There was more silence, but it was comfortable instead of heavy and awkward. Ron's mind was still tumbling over his absolutely perfect day when Hermione snuck her hand into his own. They continued on their way, hands tightly wound together, completely at peace with each other for once.
This, Ron thought, is the best bloody birthday present I've ever given myself.