No, no, no! this is all wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! Hermione was standing in front of her closet which was half empty due to the fact the most of her clothing was thrown half-hazardly throughout her bedroom.
An extreme understatement would be to say that Hermione was extraordinarily nervous. Her palms were sweaty, her breathing ragged, and her hands shaky. Although all these particular ailments were due to the fact that she was going to meet one Mr. Ronald Weasley for dinner in under two hours, the nervousness had multiple layers.
On the surface, her nervousness was caused by her clothing dilemma. Hermione had purchased a whole new wardrobe when she decided to change her identity. She had clothes for every occasion, all very stylish and trendy (or so the sales lady told her), yet nothing seemed to be right for tonight. Hermione had not been on a date in a very long time. Her small town did not offer very many options, and the fact the largest cities where people her age would hang out was nearly three hours away- a trip she was not willing to make. Therefore, Hermione had no idea what to wear. Not to mention that fact that this was not just any date with any guy.
This was, technically, Hermione and Ron's first date. Ron, the guy she had loved since as long as she could remember. But Ron thought she was Julie Ranger, his little sister's friend from the States, who, for some reason he could not understand, he felt an amazing connection with. And without more of Ivan's Identity Ilixir she would only stay Julie until 10 o'clock that night. What a shock it would be to Ron to one minute be speaking to Julie, and then the next minute Hermione has suddenly situated herself in front of him. So, Hermione needed to make sure this was a short date.
Of course her identity being exposed was the largest factor in her nervousness, and the most terrifying. Knowing her future was in danger, Hermione formulated a plan. Not a very good plan, she realized, but under the pressures at the time, it was as good as she could do. Her plan was, simply, to get Ron to hate her. She would be an awful date- rude, overbearing, condescending- anything to have him kick her out within an hour or two of arriving.
As she was devising the plan in her head, her eye caught a flash of red in her closet. Reaching for it she puled out a strapless, A-line mini-dress. Nothing too scandalous, yet still one of those 'knock 'em dead' dresses.
She looked it over for a moment, pondering. Just because I trying to get him to kick me out doesn't mean I can't do it while looking fabulous, does it? she thought. After approximately another three seconds of pondering, she promptly carried the dress into the bathroom, and continued to get ready.
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At precisely 7 o'clock Hermione was ready to apparate to Ron's doorstep looking utterly stunning in her red dress, and matching red pumps, which after having been on less than ten minutes she recalled, quite painfully, why she had stopped wearing them. Her hair was perfectly coifed, and her makeup was glamorous, but not overdone.
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She arrived at his house with every intention of carrying out her plan. For all of the 2.5 seconds it took Ron to answer the door she was prepared to be completely uncouth and horrendously boring- really, she was. But when he opened the door and flashed her his trademark grin, and she saw his fiery red hair in correlation with an emerald green shirt and canary yellow tie, all hopes of her plan being effective came undone.
"Hi," he said with his grin. "You look...wow."
"You look...wow, too," she responded playfully, also grinning.
After all the years, Hermione could still make Ron blush. She loved making him blush. She loved that he could make her blush just as much. He could also quite easily make her go weak in the knees, as he demonstrated with his next words after he had led her inside to a candlelit room.
"I hope you don't mind but , I really wanted to get to know you better so I figured, that I could cook, and we could have a quiet evening here. You know, good food, good company?" he seemed nervous about the idea, as though she would not accept. He continued when Hermione stood motionless and silent looking at the candle illuminated table with a vase of pink roses on it, her favorite flower. "If...if you really want...we could...i mean...we can go out somewhere. It wouldn't be a big de-"
"No," she cut him off. "Sorry, it's just so...perfect. Really. It's just perfect." She gave him a small smile, hoping he could not see the tears that were trying to well up in her eyes. This was something the Ron she knew would never do. It was amazing how he could be so like he was before, yet at the same time so much more mature and adult. He was confident, yet his reaction to her silently looking over the room proved he also need reassurance. This mature Ron was not 'better' than the old Ron, just different. Still perfect to Hermione.
"Oh, okay. Good then," he looked relieved. They stood in a uniquely comfortable silence until Ron realized that they were only staring at each other. "Uh, uh...here, why don't we get started." Ron pulled out her chair, she sat, and he pushed it back in. "If it's okay, we'll start with salad, then I have a vegetable soup, and the main course is pasta in a red sauce. Oh, and chocolate mousse for dessert." He bagan putting salad on her plate, but Hermione could not help looking at him in awe. "What?"
"You cook? Like, real cooking- more than microwaving?"
Ron blushed again and nodded. "My mum taught me a few things before I moved out. She knows how utterly helpless I would be without home cooking, and I supposed didn't want me over at the Burrow to eat everyday, so she taught me a bit, and it turns out I wasn't as hopeless as everyone at first thought. Do you cook?"
Laughing, she replied, "No. Cooking is most definitely not something I can do. For some reason my toast always burns, and no matter how hard I try, water just won't boil for me."
Ron also laughed, "Well, I'm sure you have many other talents."
She shrugged, replying, "I have some."
"Tell me about them. Tell me all about you."
Hermione was caught off guard by his seriousness. This aspect of the new Ron would take some time to get used to. Hermione found herself taking Ron's spot as the comic relief. "How is that fair? I tell you everything about me, but learn nothing about you? That wouldn't be polite."
Ron genuinely laughed at this, "Well then how 'bout we compromise. We'll switch off asking questions. I'll ask you one first, then you ask me one. And we'll keep going until we find out everything about one another."
"Okay. Sounds like an intriguing idea. So what, Mr. Weasley is your first question?"
"Hmm...well. I need to make sure it's a good one."
"And why is that?"
"Well, my question will be setting the bar for all following questions. Set it too low and we may never reach an appropriate height- we may get bored. But set it too high, and we won't be able to surpass it and all our time will be spent thinking of questions of equal merit."
Trying to keep the same false seriousness Ron was wearing, Hermione played along. "That is a lot of pressure put on you. I'm glad I don't have to ask the first question."
"Oh, you should be. I figured it would be more gentlemanly to give you the second question, which is why I took the job f the first."
"I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
Suddenly the serious Ron came back, "I can think of ways," and just as quickly (while Hermione looked down blushing), the old Ron came back, "but that's for later. Right now, I have thought of my first question."
"I can hardly wait to hear it."
"Then wait you shan't. Are you ready? You may be shocked at it's bar setting ability."
Hermione, still playing along, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and then looked back at Ron determinedly. "Ready."
"What were you like in school? I don't know anything about you before we met yesterday."
"Well, first let me congratulate you on the truly inspired question."
"Thank you," Ron bowed his head a bit, dramatically accepting her praise, making Hermione laugh.
"And to answer your question, I was smart- top of my class. I wasn't exactly outgoing, but I had a few close friends, and talked friendly with most people. I was definitely not a girlie girl, but I have no ability in sports whatsoever, so I also wasn't a tomboy. Basically I was pretty much confident in myself, and would stick up for my friends and beliefs no matter the cost. I also think I was a good influence on people. You know, getting them to keep out of trouble and finish their studies."
"You were a know-it-all."
"Uh...no, I most certainly," she look at Ron's cockeyed expression and could not continue without laughing, "Okay, okay. I was a know-it-all. But it was for everyone's own good."
Ron continued to laugh good-naturedly as Hermione continued speaking, "Don't laugh so haughtily, mister. Now it's my turn to ask you a question."
"Ask away."
"If you could do one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?"
"Ha! You think that is a hard question? Not even close. I'd play Quidditch."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "You would play Quidditch for the rest of your life?"
"Yes. Yes I would."
"That's quite boring if you ask me."
"But I didn't ask you. You asked me. And that is my answer."
Shrugging in defeat, Hermione responded, "Fair enough."
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Once dinner ended the two found themselves sitting on Ron's sofa, still playing the question game.
"Okay, okay," said Hermione, "What is...what is...your...favorite color?"
"Your losing your touch, Julie, but I'll play along. My favorite color is Cannons orange. Okay, my turn." Ron pondered for a moment, thinking hard.
"Well?"
"Okay, but remember you have to answer. Those are the rules."
"Oh dear, I'm afraid to hear what the question is."
"Do you date a lot?"
Hermione was, once again, caught off guard by Ron. "Well...no. Actually, I...I really haven't found anyone in particular who I've wanted to date, and I'm so busy with work and such..." she trailed off and her voice got quieter. "I just don't have much time."
Ron seemed to be truly taking in her response. Feeling awkward, Hermione spoke, "Okay, so, same question to you."
"Huh?"
"Do you date a lot?" In the background Ron's grandfather clock chimed once.
"You can't ask that. I just asked you that question." A third time.
"I believe you made this game up and therefore there are no real rules." A fourth time.
"Well, now there is."
"Well, my question would still be grandfathered in."
"Fine...no. I don't. For the same reasons as you...lack of time. And other stuff..." he trailed off as the clock chimed an sixth time.
Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that she (Hermione, not Julie) was the other stuff. "Other stuff like what?" she did not even notice the eighth chime in the background.
Ron gave her his grin, and replied, "That would be another question, and it's my turn." The ninth chime chimed.
"Okay my question is..." the tenth chime chimed.
Suddenly Ron's face contorted with confusion as he looked at Hermione.
"Ron? What's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly.
"What...what happened to...i don't...Hermione?" he struggled to get the words out.
A look of horror dawned on Hermione's face as she snapped her head toward the grandfather clock which now read 10:00. She gasped and fought back tears. She had lost track of time. What was she going to do? Looking at Ron, she wordlessly jumped off the couch and ran towards the coat rack to get her purse and quickly apparate away, never to be seen again.
Just as she was about to apparate, Ron grabbed onto her arm, and she took them both away from Ron's house, and right into her kitchen in Juliet, Iowa.
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A/N: Hehe! Cliffy of sorts. I noticed not many people reviewed the last chapter, maybe because it was so short. I hope all my previous reviews are still sticking with the story, and I hope you and all new comers to the story will review this chapter and tell me how you feel about it. I really, really, really hope to have the next chapter up tomorrow since I'm on spring break this week and have time. The next chapter will explain why Hermione's been on the run. Sorry that this has taken so long. I really appreciate all you that read and review!