Disclaimer: I do not own anything that seems remotely familiar. That all belongs to the great J.K. Rowling.

The Object of My Affection

Ron Weasley gazed into the crackling fire, watching as the embers exploded onto the bark. Outside, thunder and lightning cracked as well, causing him to shiver. Thunderstorms were not his favorite things. Next to spiders, they were the second thing he feared most. He tried to focus on his homework, a four-foot essay on the uses of moon-worms in potion-making, but found his thoughts to be completely occupied by someone with a large quantity of bushy hair, who would probably be reprimanding him at this very moment if she knew that he had delayed his homework this far.

Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of his year. The smartest witch of the century.

It wasn't like he planned on falling in love with the bushy-haired witch. There were so many other girls at Hogwarts that could have won his heart, so many other girls that were wonderful. However, none of them possessed Hermione's brilliance, her resourcefulness, the way she chewed on her bottom lip when she was in a deep problem, or how she fingered her hair when she was busy. The truth was that he never felt this way about any girl, except for Hermione. And now, in his last year at Hogwarts, it was too late to turn back.

He hadn't confessed to Hermione his love. He hadn't even told Harry Potter, his best friend, his feelings about their other best friend. It would be awkward. What if she didn't love him back? Then, it would be all chaos and confusion and he would end up losing her. And he never wanted to lose Hermione. Never. He would much rather just stay friends with her than to lose her by doing something stupid.

Coped with his preoccupied thoughts, he failed to realize the object of his affections staring at him from a distance. Hermione Granger had wandered down to the common room after failing to fall asleep. She too, detested thunderstorms and had decided to warm up a bit by the fire. Hermione smiled slightly to herself when she realized Ron was also by the fire. She shuffled towards him, Crookshanks close behind her.

"Hey Ron."

The red-head jumped about a foot. When he realized that it was Hermione, he blushed the famous Weasley red.

"Hermione! What are you doing down here?" He asked, hoping that he sounded suave.

"I couldn't sleep. Thunderstorms make me nervous, so I decided to warm up by the fire. I didn't expect to find company so late at night. What are you doing down here?" She asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Oh. Same. I couldn't sleep, so I decided to whip out some homework." He replied nonchalantly. He tried to push his essay away so that she wouldn't see, but Hermione was too quick for him. She read the title, her forehead crinkling dangerously.

Hermione sighed. "Ron, you know you should do your homework when it's assigned to you. You shouldn't put it off this far. When are you ever going to learn?"

Ron was irritated. "Hermione, just because I'm not as smart as you doesn't mean I have to follow your way of doing things. I find my way to be effective for me."

"But if you keep delaying your work, it'll never be satisfactory. You always get D's on your work!" She reprimanded.

"For your information, I don't always get D's. Last week, I got an O on my Charms paper, and the week before that, Professor McGonagall gave me an A." He said, hoping that this would stop Hermione from berating him.

"You got an O?" Hermione asked, startled by this new piece of information. She didn't recall Ron telling her this before.

"Yeah." He mumbled, looking down, embarrassed.

"Why didn't you say so before? I never remembered you telling me you got an O."

"Well, I was going to, but before I could, you said that you got three O's on each of your essays for History of Magic, Charms, and Transfiguration, and I only got one... I didn't want to say anything afterwards. After all, what's the big deal with me getting one O after you got 3? I'm never going to be as smart as you, Hermione." He looked down at his paper.

"Ron...you don't have to be as smart as me. Books and cleverness and O's... those aren't important. I only possess the qualities that can get you through school. You possess the qualities that will get you through life. Loyalty and braveness... Ron, you may not know this, but I've always admired you for being so brave- when you faced the troll for me in our first year and when you sacrificed yourself in chess, when you faced Aragog so that you could find out more about the Basilisk, or when you fought off those Death Eaters- you didn't have to do those things but you did them because that's the type of person you are. You protect those you love, and you would never let them get hurt. I know I can always count on you Ron, for being there. You're the sweetest person I know." She blushed as she finished, not daring to look in his direction.

Ron gazed at Hermione with wide eyes. Did she just call me brave? It seemed like a dream to him, watching as Hermione's face turned bright red. Smiling, Ron leaned forward and touched Hermione's chin, making her look up. Then, he bent down and kissed her. He obviously put everything he had, every ounce of feeling for her, every last vestige of passion and every shred of frustrated love, into that kiss, as if he were trying to burn whatever it was he felt out of him. She melted, completely under his overwhelming and intense love for her, and pressed her hand against his chest, drawing in breath once when necessary.

Ron never finished his Potions Essay that night.

FIN.