Title: The Prefects' Bathroom
Rating: PG
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Summary: Hermione had always known that she would have to make the first move…
A/N: My first ever Harry Potter fic (ta-daaa!) enjoy!
The Prefects' Bathroom
It started innocently enough.
Hands barely grazing each other over a textbook, brown eyes coyly raised to meet a pair of startled blue gazing back. Standing just a little more closely than normal, allowing shoulders to brush each other gently, enjoying the frisson it aroused, wanting more while hardly knowing what "more" entailed. Heady, sweet as wine.
Hermione had always known that hers would have to be the first move; Ron was too unsure of himself and his possible reception to try to touch her. So she attempted to be subtle; tiny teasing touches accompanied by long glances and parted lips.
She ended up being far too subtle to alert Ron to her state of mind.
Changing tack, Hermione formulated a plan: she would engineer a situation whereby Ron and herself were alone, and then she would get closer and closer until he would have to see what everyone else (including Harry) had figured out long ago – their pairing was as inevitable as the sun rising in the morning. Being Hermione, she planned meticulously, drawing diagrams and consulting textbooks.
Ron thought that she had a problem with her inner ear, because she kept "losing her balance and falling on to me, bloody 'ell, Hermione, you should get that seen to."
It was enough to make a witch scream in frustration.
In a last ditch attempt to hammer her message home into Ronald Weasley's incomparably thick red head, Hermione locked him into the Prefects' Bathroom with her and refused to let him out.
"Have you gone mental or something?" Ron asked, edging towards the door with a slightly wild look in his eyes.
"Ron, how long have we known each other?" Hermione replied, heading him off purposefully and standing with her arms folded.
"Eh? About six years now, I reckon. Why?"
"In all those six years, you've never fancied me? Even a little bit?" Hermione blushed scarlet as she spoke, dropping her gaze to the floor.
Ron shuffled uncomfortably, his face matching Hermione's in colour.
"Well, yeah, I mean you look really… nice."
"Nice? That's all I get? Nice?"
"Well, nice and, you know, pretty. I like your hair."
Hermione raised her eyes in amazement, one hand going to the head of curls that nothing seemed able to tame.
"You like my hair?" she all but whispered, searching his face for some sign that he was joking.
Ron was looking more and more uncomfortable, eyes darting about the room, searching for an exit from the situation. Hermione took one small step forward, raising her hand to lightly touch his arm. Ron jumped as though he'd been stabbed.
"What's this all about, Hermione?" he asked, confusion and something Hermione couldn't quite name darkening his eyes.
"Well, since you like me and I like you I thought…."
"You like me? You mean you fancy me? You fancy me?" Stunned incomprehension flitted across his features.
Taking another small step forward, Hermione nodded, raising her hand again to touch his arm. This time, Ron didn't pull away. Taking this as a positive sign, Hermione took a deep breath, squared her chin and leaned in towards him. Ron, being Ron, had chosen that moment to do exactly the same and their faces met with an audible bump. Giggling, Hermione pulled back and stuffed her knuckles in her mouth.
"Why are you laughing?" Ron asked, concern written across his face.
"I'm not laughing at you! Maybe we should start again…."
This time, Hermione leaned in and gently touched her lips to his. After a moment, Ron responded, arms encircling Hermione's waist as he eagerly kissed her back.
A rattle of the doorknob brought them back to earth.
"Is someone in there?" Came the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy, "only you've been bloody ages and if you don't come out I'm breaking the door down."
Sharing a conspiratorial glance, Ron and Hermione walked hand in hand to the door, Hermione unlocking it with a flick of her wand.
"It's all yours," she said to a stunned Malfoy as she marched past, enjoying the look on his face.
"That was worth it for the look on Ferret's face alone," Ron mused, staring at his and Hermione's linked hands with something akin to awe.
Hermione smiled at him, tightening her grip on his hand.
"I think that next time we should go somewhere a little more private than the Prefects' Bathroom…"
"I dunno, 'Mione, it'll always have a special place in my heart…"
Flowers do bloom in the oddest of places.