He Smiled

Disclaimer: All goes to a certified genius, J.K. Rowling.

A/N: Short and sweet. Inspired by my own insanity and disease of giddiness. Enjoy.

When Hermione woke up that dewy April morning, she felt something different. She knew this day would be The Day. For the past five years, she had been loving slowly, with just afraction of her aching heart. But now, as she woke with a sudden rush of joy, she knew her heart couldn't bare the hiding or it would simply burst. Hermione got dressed and rushed to Ginny's dormitory. The sleepy redhead barely blinked when Hermione sat down roughly at the end of her bed.

"Ginny!" Hermione said excitedly.

"Uh…" she groaned.

"Ginny! Today's The Day!"

"What, Saturday?"

"No, silly!" Hermione leaned closer and whispered the loudest whisper known to mankind, "The Day I tell Ron!"

Ginny sat up so quickly she hit her head hard against Hermione's. She rubbed her forehead and said, "You're serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious!" Hermione said. She wasn't slightly fazed by hitting her head against Ginny's. "I have to! I've waited so long and my heart is just going to burst if I don't let it out."

Ginny smiled. As different as her friend was behaving, she was happy for her.

"Hurry and get dressed!" Hermione ordered. She added with a giggle, "You don't want to miss this day!" She exited quickly and ran into the Common Room as though she were flying. Suddenly, when she spotted Ron relaxing in a scarlet armchair before the fire, she stopped. Maybe today isn't The Day, she thought. She wanted to smack herself. Of course it was The Day. She woke up feeling it. And she already told Ginny she'd do it. So she will do it, no matter how humiliating and devastating it will be. She just…won't do it…yet…

"Hey, 'Mione," Ron said, smiling, once he saw her standing at the stairs leading to the girls' dormitory.

"Haaaa ha ha ha!" Hermione giggled uncontrollably. She knew it wasn't like her at all. In fact, she hated it when Parvati and Lavender would giggle themselves senseless. It was immature and girly, neither of which could ever describe Hermione. She was smart. Sophisticated. Proper. She didn't giggle over a boy.

But this isn't just any boy.

This thought came true to her, but nonetheless, he was a boy. So she straightened up, muttered a bleak "morning" and took a seat in the armchair next to him. The silence was screaming in Hermione's ears. There wasn't anyone else in the Common Room. Ten minutes ago, when still giddy and girly, this would have been her Moment to confront him about her undying love for him. Every little piece of him. His fire-red hair, the handful of freckles that speckled across his nose and cheeks, his tall, strong build. His smile, the famous Ron Weasley grin that crept up the side of his cheek, his laugh, full and hearty, almost like Hagrid. His sarcastic sense of humor, no matter how many times it was used against her, his eyes—

"Hermione?"

She wasn't sure who said it, but once she had stopped daydreaming and wearing a look of a drug addict, satisfied smile and all, her mind snapped back to the Common Room, where Ginny was leaning over her cautiously, and to her right, Ron was sitting in silence with Harry next to him, shaking his head. There were noises around the room, so there must have been more people, but Hermione didn't have any energy left and didn't bother to turn around.

"Hermione, are—are you okay?"

Hermione gave Ginny a look that obviously meant she was very much not okay.

"W—well, would you like to come to breakfast with us?" Ginny asked somewhat nervously.

Hermione just realized how hungry she was. "Yes."

Ginny smiled and led the group out of the Common Room and into the Great Hall. Ginny and Hermione sat next to each other, across from Harry and Ron. Hermione had both dreaded and wanted to sit next to Ron, but she decided, while turning to face anyone but him, across from him was worse. He caught her eyes four times during the meal, causing Hermione to turn as red his hair.

Ginny glanced quickly at Hermione, waiting for something to happen. Hermione glared, as if saying, You think I'll do something right now! Ginny shook her head, no, and looked at her plate. Harry, constantly on the alert, was watching the girls with intense curiosity, but oblivious Ron just ate and ate, not wanting to worry about what actually might be happening two feet away from him that he didn't know about.

Later in the day, Ginny confronted Hermione.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Uh, right now, I was on my way to the loo," Hermione said bluntly.

"No, I mean," Ginny lowered her voice, "Why aren't you doing anything about Ron?"

Hermione glared at her. "Oh, and you think that this is easy? Do you think you can just waltz up to the boy you've loved for five years straight with your whole heart, deeply and truly, and tell him that and not be embarrassed, shy, or cowering in the shadows? Are you telling me it's a piece of cake to confess your true love for someone after five, long years of waiting? Are you asking me to be nonchalant about something that may possibly change our lives forever?"

"Uh, no…but—"

"My point," Hermione said, "exactly."

"Well—you're doing it today, right?"

"Ginny, these things can't be rushed."

"Rushed? It's been five years and you haven't told him! Are you going to wait another five years?"

"No," Hermione sighed. "I—I'll do it today. Just…give me time, okay?"

"Time is impatient, Hermione."

"I—I know. I know."

"But, yes," Ginny smiled, "I'll give you time."

That afternoon, Ginny offered Hermione, Ron, and Harry, to go on a walk with her. Fortunately, they all agreed.

While strolling around the lake, Hermione's mind raced. She thought of how she could ever tell Ron how she felt about him. She wondered what he would say, think, and most importantly: feel. She was scared he'd laugh or give her a confused or disgusted look. She was afraid she might not have enough time to get to the point that she loves him, or maybe she will just back out of it completely. She knew she had to do it. She had to for the feeling she had when she woke up that morning. She had to for his sweet, blue eyes, his Weasley grin, his laugh, his—

Hermione had just realized that Harry and Ginny had escaped at some point of their stroll and she was now walking—alone—with Ron Weasley. In the middle of an April afternoon, with the wind blowing and the birds singing. She smiled to herself, but at the same time frowned at her girly romantic dreams. It wasn't like her. It wasn't like her at all. She hadn't decided if this New Hermione had been hiding underneath Bookworm Hermione for the past five years and only burst out that morning from too long of being locked up, or if this New Hermione really was brand-new and no one had ever met her or heard of her until Old Hermione decided to do something about Ron. Which, at the time that these thoughts wereracing around her New brain, would have been a perfect time to do so. Ginny and Harry had left, and Hermione made a mental note to thank Ginny.

"So, Ron," Hermione said nervously.

"Yes?" Ron said without turning to face her.

Hermione decided that was bad, that possibly he was distracted. She tested him. If she said nothing and he was distracted, he wouldn't say anything, just continue walking. If she said nothing and he wasn't distracted, but he didn't care, he would say "yes?" again without facing her. If she said nothing and he wasn't distracted but did care, he would turn to face her to say "yes?" again. Old Hermione was surprised by New Hermione's sudden knowledge of boys. Maybe it was the fact she had been best friends with two of them for six years. Whatever it mattered, Ron turned to her and said, "Yes?" once again.

Hermione wanted to hug him. "Uh," she scratched her elbow, "uh…"

Ron was still watching her as she stumbled over a tree root poking out of the ground and fell flat on her face. In her girly and romantically cheesy dreams, Ron would have caught her. In her awkward and depressingly true reality, Ron stayed still as Hermione crashed to the ground.

Ron knelt down next to Hermione's still body. She hid her face shamefully into the ground. "Uh, Mione?" he asked, shaking her slightly.

Hermione groaned in her utter humiliation.

This worried Ron, for whatever paranoia might had been sweeping over him. "Are you alright?" he demanded.

Hermione sighed. She pushed her head off the ground and spat out some dirt and grass and possibly a bug. "I'm," she said, "fine."

"Oh, okay," Ron said, sitting down onto the ground.

Hermione was now not only completely humiliated, but devastated for his uncaring selfishness. She could had been mistaken, but she was sure that he didn't care his best friend had just tripped over a tree root and fallen face-first into the ground all because she was too distracted in coming up with a way of informing him that she had happened to be madly in love with him for the past, oh, five years. She made a mental note to hurt Ginny very badly.

"You alright?" Ron asked carefully.

Hermione smiled deeply inside of her. "Yes," she said dreamily. "I, uh, actually have something to tell you."

Ron looked seriously at her. He waited.

Hermione waited. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her throat felt dry and her hands were sweaty. She wiped them on her pants. "Uh…it's kind of…hard to say…" she finally mustered.

Ron cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Hermione was still lying on the ground and assumed she looked like an even more disaster than normal, but Old Hermione stayed with her there and didn't care. She sat up and didn't bother to pluck out the leaf she could feel was sticking straight out of her bushy hair. "Well…" she started.

Ron nodded to show he was listening, waiting.

"Promise me something quick."

"Okay."

"Promise me you won't freak out when I tell you this."

"I promise."

Hermione sighed and looked down at the ground. She pulled a bundle of grass out of the dirt. She couldn't bear to look at Ron anymore. His eyes were killing her emotionally. She sprinkled the grass onto the ground. "Okay," she decided. "Um, I guess there's no other way to put this than saying…that…I love you."

Old Hermione was screaming to stare at the ground. Stare, stare, stare. She couldn't look up. She couldn't meet his eyes. She didn't want to know what he was thinking or doing. New Hermione was bursting through her heart. She wanted to wrap her arms around Ron and hold him tight. She wanted to know what he wanted. So Hermione looked up.

She about died on the spot.

Ron was smiling. Smiling! New Hermione attempted to use her New Boy Knowledge to analyze this and figure out what he was thinking, but her heart was racing too fast for her mind. She loved that grin. She loved everything about it. And not just that it came from the boy she loved, but that it crept up the side of his cheek, and how his perfect, pale pink lips formed just the right shape to be sexy and cute at the same time. Hermione realized too late she was staring at his lips, but she didn't mind what came from it. Ron reached forward and held her chin, pulling her closer and closer. He closed his eyes; she closed hers. New Hermione found herself reaching towards him and finding his broad shoulders for her arms to relax on as her hands cupped his neck. Ron held her face in his hands and leaned close enough for their lips to touch. Hermione felt his smile against her lips and she melted in his arms. Pulling back, both pairs of cheeks beat red, Ron was grinning broadly.

"I love you, too."