A/N: Oh my word! 37 fantastic reviews on this chapter- I feel truly loved! A tremendously large thank- you to...Green Eyes, RedheadedWeasley's2nm, Loku, Sheltielover, N.C.PysChick, Seasonings, LadySimone123, TheDaughterOfKings, Sunflowa, Ronsreallove, AmyChris, aurorasakura16, dancerrdw, fan or your's, raven92269, love3luvfromCes, Pauly-85, brainychic96, aishteru, Nefertiri's Handmaiden, Alli-Baby, daichi, One With A Constant Sugar High, milky way bar, Flair Verona, Eponine Weasley, kitotterkat, angelssidekick, Lost.Somewhere.Out.There, Emma-Lynn, Melly, Moonhawkpebbly, Lucy, Digimon ruler.9, Lara Potter, Miss Court-A-Doo, and last, but definitely not least, the first reviewer on this chapter...suckr4romance81789! Now I have the pleasure of presenting to you loyal reviewers...CHAPTER NINE! Read, review, and most importantly and above all else, ENJOY!
"Yes, Hermione?" the object of my affections questioned.
"I...I..." I stuttered. One look in those bloody blue eyes of his and I completely lost any ability to speak the English language. 'This is ridiculous,' I snapped to myself.
"I..I..."
"You..."
"I..I...like..." For Merlin's sake! The cleverest student at Hogwarts who had faced everything from Death Eaters to werewolves couldn't confess her undying love to the bloke she had known (and fancied) for years. Bloody pathetic is all I have to say.
"Someone," I finished very lamely.
"Someone." Ron repeated, taking a step back and looking at me suspiciously. "Who?"
I cringed. "I can give you a physical description!" I said quickly, trying to salvage the situation, though mentally noting to use non-identifying characteristics. "He's tall, slim yet well-built, muscular, plays Quidditch, has brilliant hair and those eyes..." Ron would seriously have to be one daft bloke not to realize, by the fact that my face was BRIGHT red- even redder than Ginny's when Harry had accidentally heard that she fancied him with a passion- that I was discussing the GIT STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME- him!
Wordlessly, Ron pushed open the bedroom door and then just as quickly closed it when he caught sight of, to him, a very DISTURBING scene- Harry and Ginny sharing a sweet snog. Sigh. The hero also gets the gorgeous girl. Unfortunately, my hero isn't falling for the rather ugly witch with hair that has excessive volume.
"I reckon Harry's lips are nicer than yours," I laughed stiffly, trying to break the tension. "At least, that's what Ginny's going to say. Not that any of us knows the quality of your lips, though." My fake giggles faded as I realized that once again I had said something incredibly stupid and made a total prat of myself.
Silently, he set off on a brisk pace down the hallway and into the loo. I followed him without thinking (something that has been happening more and more frequently- brain, where art thou?).
"Do you mind, Hermione?" he snapped peevishly after he had closed the bathroom door and whirled around to find me standing behind him.
"Sorry!" I said quickly, trying to jiggle the doorknob behind my back and make a stylish exit.
"Sorry for what?" Ron said angrily, taking large steps towards me until we were no more than three inches apart. "For fancying Krum?"
My mouth dropped open. "I do not fancy Viktor!" I said hotly, still attempting to turn that bloody doorknob. "Frankly, why do you care?"
"Because I AM YOUR BLOODY BEST MATE!" he roared, turning the faucet on aggressively and watching the stream of ice cold water splatter against the cracked enamel of the sink.
"I know that, Ron," I let out a huge sigh, sinking to the worn pale blue carpet. I idly fiddled with the stray ends of the black rug near the sink when I felt my wandering fingers touch a piece of paper. Fizzing Whizbees. This was NOT happening.
"What's that?" Ron questioned grumpily, for the time being accepting that I was telling the truth, which, in all honesty, I WAS!
"Oh, nothing, just a spare bit of parchment," I said lightly, failing to keep my voice even.
"Can I see this 'spare bit of parchment'?"
"No!" I said rather defensively, pulling it out from underneath the rug and clutching it possessively to my nightgown. "Er- it's mine!"
"Yours?" A reddish eyebrow was raised.
Grrr. I had escaped to the loo a few days earlier in search of a private place to think and write, free from inquisitive witches (Ginny and Mrs. Weasley) and a wizard that absolutely drives me buggers (Ron). Now, let me share something with you. I may be able to write, in Ron's words, "bloody brilliant" essays, but when it comes to poetry, I'm no match for Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Frustrated by a certain adorable redhead, the second my favorite eagle quill had touched the parchment as I sat on the closed commode, the words had poured out of me like Butterbeer. I had been rudely interrupted by loud pounding on the door with some choice words that clearly indicated that none other than the object of my affections had to take care of some rather urgent bodily functions. Obviously, not wanting him to watch me exit the loo with parchment in my hand (I could only imagine his incredulous reaction "Doing homework in the bathroom?") I had quickly hid it in the first logical place, promising myself to retrieve it later. Only, as distracted as I'd been for the following days (!#$ you, Ronald Weasley!), it had escaped my mind. Trust me- this was most definitely not something I wanted those brilliant eyes of his to see. There would be very serious repercussions.
Eyes of cobalt blue, lips of red,
My sexy Ronald is a redhead.
Muscular, tall, toned, and slim,
I ache to throw my arms around him.
With an adorably freckled face and a lopsided smile,
Ron Weasley is a bloke I've fancied for quite a while.
Loyal, courageous, intelligent...sigh...
If he ever rejected me I'd simply die!
"Just a list I made a few days ago. It can get rather boring at times in the loo, as you know. I was constipated." For Merlin's sake, why do these highly embarrassing sentences keep pouring out of my mouth at such an alarming frequency?
"Constipated." Ron snickered. Hmmph. I'm sure Ronald Weasley is much too good to have ever had any of the problems we mere mortals experience once in a while concerning our digestive systems.
"Yes," I challenged him, my eyes asking, "do you have a problem with that?"
"So, can I read it?" He asked would-be casually.
NONONONONONONO! And did I mention...NO!
"You really wouldn't want to," I stalled, cursing that bloody red tinge that was rising on my cheeks at a disturbing rate. "Anyways, I have to go now and...and...and..."
Using my unusual loss of words and my being momentarily stumped (I was still trying to think of a reason as to why I just had to leave the loo that very instant) to his advantage, in a split-second Ron had effectively blocked my path out by utilizing those excellent Quidditch reflexes of his.
"You're not going anywhere, Hermione," he said huskily, "Until I'm finished with you."
I shivered as the full implication of those words hit me.
"Um, okay?" I barely managed to squeak.
"Oh, not like that!" Ron said in a rush, the tips of his ears and also the majority of his neck, face, and Godric-knows where else on his body during a delicate shade of red. "I mean, not unless you want to! Bloody, that didn't come out right. What I really mean is..."
"I understand, Ron," I said soothingly, easily silencing him by placing a finger to those tender lips of his. A more appropriate (er, naughty) response would've been to leap into his arms and passionately snog him for twelve and a half minutes. Clearly, however, that would not be a good course of action to pursue at that moment, so...moving on.
"Give me the letter. Now!" the beginning-to-get-cross redhead demanded at his attempt of sweetly.
"Nope," I said firmly, relishing the idea that we would very soon be involved in a heated quarrel. And who knows where that could lead to? (i.e., Ron turning his passion to other things!).
"Hermione," he said, exasperated. "Don't make me physically extract that list from your hands."
Teehee. That could be interesting. I had a vision of Ron fiercely pinning me to the wall, violently trying to grab the poem- but in the process devouring...oops, getting off the topic here.
"I'd like to see you try," I purposely instigated him, rising gracefully off the floor (those five years of ballet Mum forced me to take years ago really do come in handy sometimes!).
"Oh, you would?" That bloody lopsided-grin will be the end of me.
Panic seeped through me as I wondered what state my mind was in as I dangled the paper in question inches away from his hands. He simply could NEVER, EVER see this literary masterpiece.
"Actually, I wouldn't," I hastily corrected myself, stuffing the parchment in the only really safe place- down the front of my nightgown, underneath which I had luckily left my bra on from the night before. (In a houseful of men- all right, maybe four living there full-time- Percy, Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Harry, I figured there could be some potentially embarrassing situations involving my chest- better safe than SORRY!) (A/N: By the way, I am in no way hinting that Percy or Mr. Weasley would hit on Hermione- I am talking more along the lines that the nightgown is not that thick and thus some stuff could possibly show). Parchment safely tucked in the valley between my two mountains, the elastic of my bra holding it in place since I obviously can't pull off what some voluptuous spies did during one of the Muggle wars and tuck secret documents in my bosom, I smirked ever-so maturely back at Ron.
"That was bloody unfair," he complained. "Using your gender to your advantage."
"I can think of many ways you could use yours," I grumbled in reply and retreated to the refuge of my bedroom before he could fully comprehend my remark.
"You're engaged in a battle of the hearts," Ginny informed me solemnly.
I snorted. "You make it sound as though it's some terrible disease." I pulled on one of my favorite shirts, a powder-blue tank top (Merlin, it feels SO good to be free from the confines of those bloody robes!), and studied myself critically in the cracked mirror.
"A little on the skimpy side, dear," it wheezed. "And comb that hair."
"Just what I need- an ancient mirror giving me beauty advice," I groaned, rifling through the old wooden dresser in an attempt to find a pair of shorts that would reasonably match.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't call it an ailment," she pointed out. "Just a dilemma of the heart that you and Ron have to work together to solve."
"You should be the one to talk," I sighed dramatically, zipping up my worn and slightly-tight-at-the-waist jean shorts and flopping back onto my unmade bed. "I don't take advice from witches such as you who have no problem whatsoever. The object of your affections just waltzed right into your arms and held you in a passionate embrace- after you were found guilty of spying on him in the shower!"
Narrowing her eyes, Ginny stared at me suspiciously. "Just how do you know what unfolded between me and Harry?"
"I reckon it's obvious," I smirked, now sitting up and starting my daily hour-long wrestling match with my dark brown, curly rebellious tresses. I'd only been trying to get details out of Gin for the past ten minutes. "I'm not a kiss and tell person," she'd pointed out.
"Your brother saw you two snogging through the door," I told a wide-eyed Ginny. "And for the past ten minutes, you have been sitting in a daze on the floor, with one leg in and one leg out of your pyjama bottoms. Your eyes are glazed over and you are wearing a huge, goofy grin. In addition, your face is flushed and your lips are swollen. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you and Harry were doing some serious snogging. "
"Oh, Hermione!" she suddenly burst. "It was WONDERFUL!"
"She can talk!"
"He's an EXCELLENT, FANTASTIC, BLOODY BRILLIANT, AWESOME, WONDERFUL, STUPENDOUS...(she went ON and ON!)...kisser!"
I broke in gently. "I get the idea, Ginny. You really don't need to give me a list of fifty adjectives that describe his kissing technique. I assume you enjoyed yourself?"
"Enormously." She practically moaned. Dear Godric.
"I can't take this any more!" I suddenly screamed, beginning to frantically pace around the room.
"What?" Ginny asked, still on her "Harry-high."
"You get to be attached to the lips to the object of your affections for Merlin-knows how long, while my bloke is too DAFT to realize that I bloody fancy him! I have to do something- and NOW!"
"Seduce him." Ginny was finally regaining her senses (er- maybe not!), although she was still on cloud nine.
"Excuse me?" I put my hands on my hips and gave her a piercing glare. "Hermione Granger does NOT know how to seduce anyone, and does NOT wish to seduce anyone.
"You wish Ron would seduce you." A large wink.
"That's besides the point." I let out a huge breath. "Anyways, could you imagine what would happen? I'd walk into his room, wearing a skimpy, revealing outfit, and his eyes would burn in agony of seeing something so disgusting and disturbing."
Ginny tutted. "You have an excellent figure, Hermione," she said rather kindly.
"Oh, yes- no chest, no definition whatsoever- I reckon I could be one of those bloody models in those rubbishy magazines Parvati and Lavender always have laying around," I snapped sarcastically.
"Back to the seduction topic," she steered me away from my self-woes. "Do it in a subtle way."
I chortled. "No matter how daft you may believe your brother to be," I snickered, "I highly doubt even he would not notice a living, breathing person of the female gender clad in provocative clothing."
"No, not that kind of seduction," the redhead witch sighed. "What I am talking about is little actions- accidentally brushing your hand against his, touching his leg, fluffing his hair, saying he looks adorable..."
I simple stared at her as though she had a huge, slimy goober dangling from her nostrils. "You have GOT to be kidding me," I said weakly. "I can barely say three words to the bloke without making a bloody idiot of myself- how to you expect me to successfully flirt, or in your words, seduce him?"
"You'll start at breakfast." Ginny's tone indicated that her word was final. Oh, Merlin. What did I ever do to deserve this?
