Title: Advent Calendar
Fandom: Harry Potter
Part: Dec 3rd
Pairing: Hermione/Ron
Warning: Het, Fluff
Spoilers: Up to and including OotP
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Remus Lupin or any of the characters or situations herein. JK Rowling owns them. I just write for pleasure and procrastination.
Note: Because it had to be done
Ron shifted nervously from foot to foot before the mirror, running his hands over his red hair in an effort to smooth it into it's already well worn place. Harry, who had been watching this performance for a quarter of an hour now, snapped and dragged him away from the large mirror.
"Ron, you look fine!" He ground out. And indeed the youngest Weasley boy did, filling out his new robes handsomely, his red hair styled into a becoming shape for once. But it didn't stop him from fidgeting.
"Harry, why won't you come along? It'd be easier with you there…"
"No way! I'm steering clear of the Christmas Ball this year! But you and your date have fun." Grinning he ushered him out the door and locked the dorm behind him. With nowhere else to go, Ron trudged down the stairs to the common room slowly, not wanting to bring about the inevitable any faster than he had to. Tonight would be a disaster, a fiasco! He'd just end up making a fool of himself again, or they'd end up fighting without Harry there to stop them. Why had this idea even occurred to him in the first place?!
But still he went and waited at the portrait hole, bearly noticing the white berry's hanging over his head. Shortly, he was joined by a girl in burgundy red robes and hair that was no longer bushy. She smiled nervously at him.
"Ready?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Yeah, you?"
She nodded, and he awkwardly held out his arm to her which she took with a little smile.
"Um… Lets go then?"
"Yes, but umm…" She pointed upwards at the sprig of Mistletoe, a hint of red chasing across the top of her cheeks. He coloured too, but leaned forward to kiss her softly, breifly on the lips. Hermione smiled at him as he pulled away, and he returned it before pushing open the portrait and helping her through it.
"Nice tradition, that one. Don't you reckon?"