Disclaimer: I do not own a single thing in relation to Harry Potter - it's all JKRowling's!

Note: This fic is being re-posted (under my REAL author name rather then my faulty old one) so you may have read it, sorry!

Of Mistletoe and Feelings

By Kay Elle Hunter

It's hard to believe it's not obvious and that everyone surrounding us is oblivious to the fact I hold feelings for him when I spend nearly every waking hour with him. It's as though they're all too swept up in their own lives to realise that I hold something more than just friendship towards him. I'm amazed, but also relieved that I don't speak his name in my sleep, when I have dreams about him nearly every night. It's becoming almost unbearable for me. My feelings for him, even though I try to cease them, are just increasing with every minute I spend with him, and I'm still unsure whether it's possible that he likes me, too…

Hermione Granger sat comfortably on her bed, gazing blankly at the book sitting open in her lap. It was the beginning of the Christmas holidays of her sixth year. Her dormitory was empty minus her and the only other Gryffindors left in the Tower were her best friends Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Ron was the one person she was avoiding being alone with at the moment, only to prevent the odd squirming that always took place in her stomach at the mere sight of him.

A loud curse from the common room below interrupted her thoughts and she looked over at the open door. "Damn these bloody stairs! Don't they trust us? It's not like I'm going to walk into her dormitory without knocking and see her wearing only her underwear!"

Ron. Hermione was used to his rivalries about the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories not letting boys up when girls can easily access theirs… And his rivalries about everything else for that matter…

"Hermione!" Ron called loudly up the stairs. "Hermione! Come down here! We have a prefect duty!"

Hermione silently cursed and jumped to her feet immediately. She'd forgotten all about the prefect duty she and Ron had been given for the night: to patrol the second and third floor corridors. Looking at herself in the mirror quickly, she gave her hair a quick brush before heading out of the room and down the stairs to the common room, where Ron stood, a lopsided smile on his freckled face.

"Sorry," Hermione said. "I forgot all about it. I hope we aren't too late in starting. Professor McGonagall didn't look happy at all when we turned up at the hospital wing late last week to make that batch of Pepper-up Potion."

"You worry too much, Hermione," Ron said, leading the way over to the portrait hall and opening it. "McGonagall will never know if we're five minutes late."

Hermione narrowed her eyes a little bit. "I do not worry too much!" she stated, sticking her nose in the air slightly and heading on through the hole and out into the narrow hallway. "I just like to be on time when it comes to our duties."

"And everything else for that matter," Ron added in a quiet voice.

Hermione threw him a cold glance as they headed down the hallway, passed a dark tapestry and into another hallway, this one slightly wider. "You say that as if there's something wrong with me wanting to be punctual, Ron," Hermione said. "Do you not like the fact I take things like this seriously instead of acting as though it's nothing if I lose my prefect badge like you sometimes do? Because I've definitely given you enough time to get used to it."

Ron shook his head. "I just think you should lighten up a little bit, Hermione," he said with a shrug. "For your own good. Live life while you can and worry about it later."

"Oh, that's easy for you to say," Hermione spat.

"And that's supposed to mean what exactly, Hermione?" Ron asked, stopping in his tracks.

Hermione stopped as well. "You never take anything seriously, Ron. You just take everything as it comes and never do anything that you really, truly want! I've never known you as someone to really try for something that you want!" She looked at him with an expression mixed with desperation and pity.

"I do so work for the things I want, Hermione!" Ron said defensively. "I practiced and went for Keeper last year and got it!"

"Yes, well, that's one thing out of many things you've ever wanted, Ron!" Hermione said, continuing to walk down the corridor. "What about girls? Are there any girls you like?"

"No," Ron lied quickly, his ears going red as he avoided her eyes. "And even if there was, wouldn't I be gawking at them every time they passed, like Harry used to do when it came to Cho?"

"Well, no, not necessarily, Ron," Hermione said with a small shake of her head. "Everyone's different. They approach the things they like or want in different ways and not always want their feelings to be obvious. Look at Viktor for example. When he was here, and wanted to ask me to the Ball, did he gawk at me? No. He merely sat in the library, the place I was most, and read, waiting until he worked up the nerve. That wasn't obvious at all, was it? So, for all I know, you could be acting a bit like that. Every time you sit in the common room, playing chess or something, you could be trying to get the attention of some girl sitting in a vacant corner…"

"No I don't!" Ron exclaimed. "I don't really need to do that." This last sentence was so quiet Hermione could only just make it out.

He liked someone. Hermione felt a great amount of jealousy build up within her towards the person he liked. Why couldn't it be her?

They went silent, Ron's ears still extremely red. He kept casting sideways glances Hermione's way, wishing she had never brought the subject of him liking someone up.

They headed down several staircases until they reached the first of many corridors that were on the third floor. The silence between them was only broken with the soft sound of their feet hitting the stone floor. Ron's ears regained their natural colour, but it didn't stop his thoughts from rapidly swimming around inside his head, causing a great amount of confusion to well up within him.

He liked her, that was for sure, but how would she react if he ever told her or she somehow worked it out? Would she ever speak to him again? Would she ever see him in the same way? Would she ever feel the same way about him?

His last thought turned his confusion into that of doubtfulness. Hermione was smart, clever and mature; she would never feel the same way towards him. Never.

Beside him, Hermione was silently aware of the way Ron kept casting looks at her out of the corner of his eye, causing a tiny smile to appear on her lips. She gave a small laugh.

"So, who is she, Ron?" she asked, knowing quite well that what she was asking was very unlike her.

Ron stopped mid-step and looked at her, his ears becoming bright red once more. "No one," he muttered. He avoided all eye contact with her and she frowned.

"I know it's none of my business, Ron," she said with a small sigh. "I just – well – I've always felt you tell me less personal things than Harry does and it makes me feel you don't trust me and I like to think that I am a trustworthy person. I never tell anyone Harry's or Ginny's or –"

"I trust you," Ron said, his ears turning dark crimson. "I just can't tell you."

Hermione frowned and sighed again. "Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I should've known better than to ask, anyway. It's your own private business. I know I don't feel comfortable telling anyone who I have feelings for…"

"You like someone?" Ron asked quickly, looking at her abruptly.

Hermione flushed pink and looked away. "Yes," she said quietly. She carefully stared at the ceiling above his head rather than at him himself. She followed the lines of flashing Christmas tinsel with her eyes, absently counting the small gold baubles hanging above them.

The silence was awkward as Ron stared at Hermione as she took in the decorations around them, letting out a soft sigh.

"I love Christmas," she said softly, continuing to look at the decorations above them. "The snow, the fairy lights, the tinsel…" Her eyes landed on a small bunch of white berries and leaves hanging directly above Ron "…the mistletoe…"

She flushed even pinker in the cheeks and looked back down at Ron abruptly, who was still watching her through his sapphire blue eyes. He didn't seem to have heard anything of what she had said.

"Ron," Hermione said, getting his attention and feeling an odd jolt in her chest, "you're … you're standing under mistletoe."

Ron looked up and quickly made to move but Hermione stopped him immediately, feeling quite nervous. "Don't move, Ron," she said, biting her lip. "It's bad luck if you move from under mistletoe without receiving a kiss. You could even be cursed if someone's placed a Spiritual Charm on it."

Ron looked down at Hermione and slowly understood what this meant. He looked from Hermione's chocolate brown eyes to her lips, which had turned a darker red than usual due to her biting on the lower one. He looked back up into her eyes, feeling extremely nervous and having a hard time swallowing.

"Well I – we should probably – er…" he stammered. "Just a – er – quick one, then."

Hermione straightened up, looking very anxious as she looked into his nervous eyes. He was so much taller than her that it felt almost awkward.

Ron slowly brought his lips down to settle on hers in a soft, slightly shaky kiss. At the contact Hermione felt a shiver run through her and slowly pulled away to look at him. He looked back, struck in a state of awkwardness and unwanted confusion. He had to tell her. He just had to.

"You're the one I like, Hermione," he said, looking away slightly as he turned pink around the face, disguising the freckles that spotted it.

Hermione smiled and delicately turned his chin so he was looking at her again. "And you're the one I like, Ron," she said, her smile not shifting.

Ron gave a lopsided smile and bent down again so his lips rested on hers again, this time kissing her more deeply as she wrapped his arms around his neck.

The End