AUTHOR NOTES: Well, it's Reesie! Yep, I'm back.. well, I've had THE BUSIEST summer imaginable, and now my aunt is visiting next week, which means its been exactly almost a year since I last updated Eyes Behind the Mask..

those of you who have read Eyes Behind the Mask.., im sorri I haven't updated it, but I promise it will be, it's just i had my aunt over, then school became overbearing, with 5 honors/AP/IB courses (same this year) then after all that, I had writers block cuz my brain was crammed with history and math and chemistry that I just forgot what I was gonna write now for the story, but I have written some chapters up, I just have to sit down and type it all up. Which I don't like doing, cuz this room is stuffy and hot. It doesn't get air conditioning.

Anyways, this story I came up with yesterday, when I got my wisdom teeth pulled out and I was feeling miserable and hadn't eaten for 24 hours (doctor's orders, then the pain made it hard to eat). It's just my way of brightening the day and willing myself to laugh at the whole experience.

Just a silly one-shot, Ron is getting some teeth pulled out! Traumatic experience? Maybe not, once he meets Hermione at the dentist office…will sparks fly? Or will teeth fly out of his mouth and across the room?

Enjoy! And please review…

Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's, I own nothing at all in this story, and I've even disowned four of my teeth. Oh well.


"I have to what!" Ron Weasley screamed.

"It's okay, lil bro, we've all had it done," his older brother Charlie soothed.

"Are you crazy? Are you all out of your minds?" he looked around at his family. "With exceptions," he muttered, eyes on Fred and George.

"Ronald, it's going to be alright, you won't feel a thing," Mrs. Weasley said calmly, rubbing his back.

"Excuse me? You're saying that a strange muggle is going to be yanking out four- and I repeat FOUR- of my teeth out of my gums and out of my mouth, and I wont feel any pain at all!" Ron exclaimed.

"Actually, no," Fred interjected the… conversation.

"They take a picture of the inside of your mouth-" George continued.

"And then lie you down-"

"Then wire you up-"

"What?" Ron choked out, taking a big gulp.

Fred snickered. "they stick these cold, almost ice like things all over your body, hooked up to wires-"

"Which monitor your heart, incase your heart accidentally stops beating-"

Ron's eyes widened.

"Then they strap you to the table-"

"So you don't flail about, you know

"Wh-Why would I flail?" his voice trembled.

"From the nerves and terror, of course," George said obviously, rolling his eyes.

Ron's eyes were now the size of bludgers.

"And after that, the doc shoves two tubes up your nostrils-"

"For oxygen-"

"You need to breathe of course-"

"And all of a sudden, BAM! A needle is seared through your arm."

"And just like that, you're unconc-"

Percy cut him off. "You are injected with a drug to help calm your nerves and put you in a deep sleep. That way, you won't feel the pain of the experience. They also give you a shot of Novocain, to numb your oral nerves. You'll experience dizziness and be lightheaded after you wake up."

"If he wakes up," George snickered behind his hand, but shut up quickly after a stern look from Mrs. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley spoke up, "Oh, but you'll be fine, son. No worries. They're just trying to scare you off."

"Are you sure?" Ron squeaked.

"Yes, no worries at all," Mrs. Weasley assured firmly.

Ron looked ready to faint. Scratch that. He did, gracefully landing into the twins' arms.


"Noooo!" Ronnekiens wailed, "You can't make me do this!" he cried as he entered the office.

More like, his dad was dragging him by the left hand, Charlie on his right, the twins pushing him through, and Mrs. Weasley leading them ahead. Bill, Percy, and Ginny were all there for moral support. Poor Ron.

"Look son, no matter what, you are getting those teeth out," Mr. Weasley said sternly.

"Isn't there a magical way to do it?" he whined.

"I'm afraid not," his father replied. Again, poor Ron.

"Maybe you can create one," Charlie suggested.

"All of you, stop it. I've heard that Dr. Mainsher is a skilled, experienced oral surgeon, and you'll be fine. No pain, no worries-"

"No deaths," George coughed. Mars Weasley glared at him. "Don't listen to your brothers, Ron," she commanded as she walked up to the front desk.

"Would ya look at that, Ronnie?" Fred grinned maniacally, pointing to a jar on one of the shelves. "Ashes of Problem Patients," George sniggered and Ron backed away and went to stand with his mother.

"Are you here to see Dr. Granger?" the lady at the front desk asked.

Yes, that's it! Dr. Granger, it was. This is my son Ron. He needs his wisdom teeth pulled out."

The lady chuckled at Ron's horrified expression. "Alright, come back here and I'll have his assistant take some X-rays."

Ron nodded and followed. One glance behind him, mouthing 'I love you' to his family, and then he passed through the doors. X-rays? Sounds dangerous… she led him to a room with big machines and in the corner was a pretty brunette fixing some buttons on a scale, her back to him. The lady left, closing the door behind her.

"Okay, so first-" the girl turned around, "Ron?"

"Hermione?"

They stared at each other for a good minute or two.

"What are you doing here?"

"I work here. My dad is-"

"Dr. Granger! Duh, how many Grangers do I know?"

Hermione smiled. "So you're pulling out a tooth?"

"Four, actually," Ron said in a would-be-brave voice.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked.

"Erm… I guess… are you sure I'll wake up after it's done?" he asked timidly as he stepped onto a platform.

Hermione adjusted his chin on the holder as she replied, "Of course you will, Ron."

"Oh. Okay."

"You're not… scared, are you?" she asked slyly. "Wait, hold still for about 15 seconds," she ordered, stepping aside as the X-ray machine rotated around his head. Ron's facial expression was one of pure fright. Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Really hard.

"It's not funny!" Ron exclaimed. "They're- they're putting me under," he lowered his voice, with specific emphasis on the last 3 words. Raising his voice again, "Who knows what'll happen? Go wrong? Will I be asleep? Or fall into a deep abyss of oblivion! What if your dad goes crazy and falls into a teeth pulling frenzy, and I wake up toothless? How will I ever EAT again!"

Hermione chortled even harder. "Ron-" she choked out, "honestly, you'll be fine," she soothed, regaining control of herself.

"But-"

"Trust me. I'll be there the entire time" she told him, rubbing his shoulder. "I'll watch over you."

She led him to the 'consultation' room. "You will?" Ron looked at her timidly.

"Yes, I will," she answered as she checked his weight and height. "Whoa!" she exclaimed suddenly.

"What?" Ron jumped, scared that something might have gone wrong.

Hermione looked up at him in… wonder and amazement? "You're 6'2"? You weren't that tall last time I saw you, were you?"

Ron puffed out his chest proudly. "Does it matter? I'm tall now."

She grinned, shaking her head. "Okay, so my dad is working on another patient now, he'll be here in 10 minutes or so," she told him.

"Great," he sulked, sinking into an armchair. Hermione sat next to him.

"Don't worry Ron," she grabbed his hand, rubbing the back of his palm.

'Mhm. Ok," Ron said distractedly, looking at their hands.

Hermione looked down and pulled away quickly, her cheeks turning red. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I didn't mind," he said, grinning lightly.

Hermione cleared her throat. "So, how's summer so far?"

"It's been pretty good. Yeah, just hanging around the Burrow, playing Quidditch, it's fun, I guess," he said, twiddling his thumbs. "How about yours? Go anywhere yet?" he looked up at her. (or down.. he IS taller than her, right?)

"Well," she began nervously, trying to keep a steady gaze into his eyes, "I was going to visit Bulgaria, you know, to see Victor?"

"Oh," was all Ron said. "So why didn't you go?" he asked conversationally.

"His team is on tour," she answered hesitantly. "Ron, you're okay with that? I mean, when I told you this, I expected you to blow up at me," she looked at him, "Or is it the nerves of the procedure that's messed with your brain?" she added jokingly.

Ron leaned back. "No, it's not that," he sighed.

"You wouldn't mind me going to Bulgaria to see Victor?" she asked incredulously. "You mean you're cool with that?"

"I've come to terms wit it," he replied dejectedly.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "Huh?"

"Nothing," his cheeks tinged pink.

The door opened, and Dr. Granger walked in, wearing a white coat. "Hi daddy!" Hermione greeted happily, stepping aside so the doctor can see his patient.

"Ron! You're Hermione's friend! Just saw your parents outside. Whole family actually, quite a lot of red hair!" he chuckled, showing off perfectly straight white teeth.

"Here's how it works," Dr. Granger showed Ron the X-ray of his teeth, showing him which teetch they were pulling out, all the while Ron staring in amazement at this muggle teck-now-logical thing that was rotating around his head a few minutes ago, but is now a picture of his teeth. Cool.. he thought. "Then we'll just put you to sleep and then you won't feel a thing, until you wake up and it'll all be over with. With your teeth, it'll go smoothly.

"How exactly will you be pulling them out?" Ron asked.

"Oh, well just stick a few dynamites in your mouth," he replied seriously. "Mini bombs," he added at seeing Ron's confused expression.

Ron turned blue. "You're joking, right?"

Hermione and her dad laughed. "Of course, we won't put actual bombs in your mouth," his tone turned more serious, "But you will be really sore, so I suggest mushy foods oNLY for the next week or two, and no contact sports, especially that game with the brooms that Hermione's told be about, Quibditch? None of that for 4-5 weeks, or you may break your jaw, since it will still be very sensitive."

Ron nodded.

"Well, that's all. Everything is being prepared now, and I'll be back in about 5 minutes."

"Uhm, Ron, what did you mean when you said before, you've 'come to terms with it'?" Hermione asked as the door closed behind her dad.

"Do you really want to know?" he stood up, pacing the room.

"Yes, I do."

"Okay, I'm fine with the fact that you might go to Bulgaria. I'm fine with the fact that you like Victor Krum as dating type material. I don't care anymore that you're attracted to Kurm, cause I have tried too bloody hard to get you to like me. But since I've realized you'll never like me like you like Krum, I guess I've given up," he nearly yelled, sitting in the patient's chair and breathing heavily. "A bloody waste load of time," he muttered, burying his head into his hands.

Hermione stood there frozen. He liked her? Just kidding, she knew he may like her, but she wasn't sure. Honestly, she wasn't that oblivious. "Ron? Ron, look at me," she gently pulled his hands from his embarrassed face.

"I understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore and to stay away from me. Like pulling out a bad tooth or something," he groaned.

Hermione grinned. "Ron, you are not a bad tooth. And just for the record, I like you A LOT more that I like Victor Krum."

Ron looked up, surprised and delighted, "You do?"

"Yep," Hermione replied simply, and then leaned in and brushed her lips with his. They held the kiss for a few seconds, and Hermione leaned away, clearly embarrassed, as could be seen from her pink face and shy expression.

Ron sat rooted to the spot, eyes huge, mouth hanging slightly open, obviously flabbergasted. (  isn't that a cool word!) "What was that for?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, I can't kiss you after the surgery; you'll be bleeding all over the place!"

"Eww," Ron's face contorted in disgust, but he quickly replaced it with a goofy grin. He tilted his head forward and kissed her again, this time longer and with much more passion than before.

They pulled back, breathing slightly heavier. Ron looked dazed (in a happy way).

"How do you feel?"

He looked into Hermione's eyes and replied, "Like there were dynamites set off in my mouth."

Hermione beamed.

At that very moment, Dr. Granger walked in accompanied with two nurses. "We're ready for you, Ron," one of the nurses said, with a reassuring smile. To Ron, who had forgotten all about the procedure, he looked like a crazed lunatic. He gulped, glancing behind him at Hermione, who nodded her head as if to assure him once more that he would, indeed be alright.

As he headed to the other room and sat in the big chair, he took another gulp. "They're putting me under!" he whispered in a terrified voice to nobody in particular.


Author notes: Well, what did ya think? Please be a dear and review for me! I would love to hear what you say. Doesn't really take too long to write.

And if I get a good amount of them, I'll update Eyes Behind the Mask.. I've got the next chapter all typed up! Just waiting for reviews…