This is a kind of fluffy oneshot about Ron and Hermione. Hermione asks Ron one night what his ideal mate would be like, and finds that she is nothing like the woman that Ron describes, and the same happens when Ron asks her about her ideal mate. Just a cute little fic, please read and review.
It's A Pity I Have You
The common room was curiously quiet. Hermione looked up from her essay for Ancient Runes, and took in an empty room. She had been so absorbed in her work; she hadn't noticed that everyone else had gone off to bed. She jumped as a resounding snore interrupted the silence. Her parchment, book, and quill fell to the floor with a soft thud. Sighing she gathered up her things and placed them on the small table ahead of her.
She turned and focused her view on the pale redheaded boy asleep in an armchair next to hers. His eyelashes fluttered in his sleep, and his gangly limbs hung over the arms of the chair. He twitched as another loud snore escaped his lips. Hermione smiled fondly. He may not be perfect- in fact he was far from perfect, but he was finally hers.
After years of coming to terms with her feelings, they were together. It sounded so strange to Hermione still, even though they'd been together for months. For so long, Hermione had been on her own all her life, and she had prospered that way. She was an only child. She'd always lived up to her own expectations.
And now she had someone that she really cared about. She never had her mind pervaded by someone so much. She thought about Ron all the time… she worried about his comfort and happiness… and knew she'd do anything to make him happy.
On many occasions, Hermione would wonder and worry about what Ron really saw in her. They were exact opposites, with different views, and interests, and personalities… in fact they had close to nothing at all in common. She wanted to be perfect for Ron. But she didn't know what he considered perfect to be.
Ron jerked awake, muttering something about mops, and disturbed Hermione's thoughts. He blinked sleepily and looked over at Hermione. "What are you still doing awake?" he murmured softly. Hermione shrugged.
"Essay. Everyone's gone," she replied, looking around the deserted common room. It was littered with trash, candy wrappers, parchment, and food. She sniffed reprovingly as she thought of the house elves that would have to clean it all up. Ron stood up and stretched, lengthening his slender body.
"Well, I'm going to bed. I can't take much more studying. I'll see you in the morning," he said with a small smile as he bent down, placed a hand under her chin and kissed Hermione softly on the forehead. She smiled and she felt warmth spread from the spot where his lips touched her forehead all the way to the tips of her toes.
"Wait," Hermione said suddenly, grasping Ron's hand in her own. Ron looked a little surprised.
"What's the matter?" he asked in a concerned voice. Hermione opened her mouth, trying to ask him… but she couldn't find the words. It was such an awkward question to ask your boyfriend. She just clutched his fingers in her own, and felt embarrassment flood her face. Ron knelt down in front of her so he could look into her eyes. "Are you okay?" Hermione nodded, even though she knew that this was a lie.
"Can I ask you a question?" she blurted, cursing at herself for sounding so stupid. Ron raised his eyebrows, but nodded. Hermione took in a deep breath and said all in one breath, "Whasyouperfecgirlike?"
"What are you saying? You sound like Harry when he stuffs his face at breakfast," Ron said, a smirk appearing on his lips. Hermione scowled.
"I said, what's your perfect girl like?" she asked again in a low voice. She let go of her hold on Ron's hand, and dropped her gaze to her knees. Ron gaped at her for a second, and then sat down on the floor in front of her, legs crossed indian style. He considered her for a moment.
"Why? This isn't a trick question is it… to see if I'm cheating on you or something? Because I'm not Hermione, and I'm actually appalled that you would even think-"
"Ron. Shut up. This isn't a time to be smart with me," Hermione said sourly. At this statement, Ron chuckled.
"'Mione, any time's a good time to be smart with you. It provides me with such entertainment," he said with a lopsided grin.
"It's not a trick question. I'm just curious-," Ron raised his eyebrows skeptically, "No, really it is just curiosity. Please just answer it? I promise I won't get mad or anything. Scout's honor," Hermione said solemnly, raising her pointer and middle finger up in a salute. Ron's expression became even more confused.
"Scout's honor? What's a scout? It's something untrustworthy, isn't it?" he asked, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers, trying to replicate the movement that Hermione made.
"It's a muggle saying Ron," she said in an exasperated tone, slapping his hand down, "Just answer it."
"Oi, violence! Well, I'll only answer it if you promise to answer what your perfect guy is like. Then, I'll answer your bloody question. Scars honor," he said, raising his pointer and pinky finger up, and placing them on his forehead. Hermione rolled her eyes, and slapped his hand down again.
"Yes, yes, I'll answer it too. Go on," she snapped. She felt that this already wasn't a good idea. She could tell that Ron's perfect girl wasn't going to resemble anything like her. But she needed to know.
Ron screwed up his face in thought. "Well," he began slowly, "She'd be beautiful, very beautiful. She'd probably be part veela with long, silky gold hair. She'd have a great body, and every guy that saw her would be jealous that she's with me," he paused for a second, staring at Hermione. "Are you sure you want me to keep going?"
Hermione unclenched her fists, and tried desperately to stop the thumping of her heart. She nodded starkly.
"Well alright," Ron said, looking a tiny bit scared. "She'd be a fantastic cook. She'd cook me whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. She wouldn't be over-emotional like most girls. She'd love Quidditch, and of course, she'd support the Canons," Hermione rolled her eyes, but Ron continued, "She'd laugh at all my jokes, and be loud and outgoing. You know the type; she'd dance on tables at bars and such. She'd always be having fun, and she'd live in the moment. She'd accept me for me, and wouldn't lecture me all the time. We'd always agree on everything, and of course," he added with a gleam in his eye, "She'd be an excellent snogger."
Hermione felt the happiness and warmth drain out of her body. Ron had just explained a woman that was the exact opposite of her. His perfect woman was someone who didn't possess any of Hermione's qualities. Hermione tried to keep her face neutral, and her features relaxed.
"Well it's your turn now," Ron said simply, obviously not aware that he just stepped all over Hermione's heart.
She was simply not what Ron wanted.
She drew in a deep breath and tried to imagine her perfect guy, and tried to push images of Ron out of her head. "He'd be smart, of course."
Ron snickered. "No surprise there," he quipped.
"Do you want to know or not?" Hermione asked crossly. "He'd be very deep and intellectual. We'd have conversations about things like muggle literature, and Ancient Runes. He'd be handsome, but not cocky. He'd be an excellent dancer, and would be a talented cook. He'd have goals, a career, and a steady income. He would be very neat with his appearance and lifestyle. He'd be very refined, the kind that goes to dinner parties and such. He'd be responsible and he'd always respect me. He'd see life in a practical way."
She looked at Ron, who didn't say anything. He smirked and said, "Well you just explained a person the complete opposite of me. It's a pity he doesn't exist in real life, isn't it? Then you wouldn't have to stay with me," he said. Obviously he thought this was funny. Hermione didn't see the humor in it.
"And you explained someone that wasn't like me at all!" Hermione exclaimed desperately. She leaned forward and buried her head in her hands. "What does this mean? Are we not meant for each other?" she muttered miserably. She felt angry at Ron for liking someone so different from her, and for laughing about it. Then she felt idiotic for getting mad at her boyfriend for "liking" someone that didn't even exist. Ron pulled her hands from her face.
"What? Are you crazy? Of course we're meant for each other, you're just being silly. Besides, that woman doesn't exist anyways," he said soothingly, stroking her light brown ringlets.
"Are you saying that I'm second best? That if you met this girl you would leave me?" she demanded angrily, pushing him backwards so that he ran into a table. Ron shook his head resolutely, and jumped off the ground.
"Of course I'm not saying that," he said, offering his hand to help her up. She took it grudgingly and he pulled her up so that they were face to face. "C'mere," he said warmly, pulling her into his chest. Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be pulled in, even though she was telling herself she should not give in this easily. Even though she felt irritated by Ron, and maybe even a little bit betrayed, she couldn't help noticing the way that the soft material of his robes tickled her face, and how comfortably warm they were.
"If you met the man of your dreams, would you leave me for him?" Ron asked quietly. Without a moment's hesitation, she shook her head against his chest. She would never do that. Even though Ron didn't know anything about Ancient Runes, and he was one of the messiest people she'd ever met.
Ron pulled away from Hermione.
"You know who I would leave my perfect woman for?" Ron asked. Hermione's face clouded over. She was upset, and he was here talking about supermodels or something. It's like he just wanted to rub it in.
"Who?" she asked aggressively. Ron turned bent down and started rummaging through his school bag.
Wonderful, so he keeps pictures of other girls in his bag. Hermione thought darkly. Ron stood up again, something clutched in his fist.
"This is her," he said, showing Hermione what was in his hand. Hermione looked at what he was showing her, and saw a girl with curly light brown hair that was a little bushy…
She blinked. He was holding a mirror. She was looking at herself.
Hermione stood there, trying to sort it all out in her brain. So he would leave the perfect woman for me… but I'm not his perfect woman? Why would you do that? It doesn't make sense. She shook her head slightly and stared into his hopeful eyes.
"I don't get it Ron. Why would you leave your perfect woman, for me, someone who is the exact opposite? I just want to make you happy…" Hermione said sadly, wringing her hands. To her surprise Ron laughed and placed a gentle hand on her cheek.
"The perfect woman wouldn't fit into my arms the same way you do, Hermione," he said sincerely, his eyes twinkling. Hermione gazed up at him skeptically, but felt her doubts melting away as he pulled her into another hug. She smiled at the way he ran his hand through her hair and down her back. "Her hair would probably be annoying after awhile too," he said matter-of-factly. "And I know it wouldn't smell as nice as yours," he whispered.
Hermione pulled away a little to look up at Ron's face. She pushed a back a piece of his fiery red hair, and said, "My perfect guy wouldn't make me laugh like you do," she said. As a smile graced Hermione's face, a huge grin placed itself on Ron's. "And I rather like the way your hair sticks up in back when you wake up every morning. I bet Mr. Perfect's hair would never do that," Hermione said, winking at him.
"Ms. Perfect would probably end up leaving me for Harry anyways."
"Mr. Perfect probably has very dull dinner-party friends anyways."
"I expect dancing on tables gets pretty old after awhile. And she'd probably fall and break her hip or something of the sort."
"Harry wouldn't like him at all."
Hermione was relieved at their little bout of joking. But suddenly, Ron's smile slid off his face.
"You know," Ron began seriously, "You make me the happiest out of anything in my life. Even Quidditch," he added earnestly. "We may be opposites. And we don't agree on a lot of things… or much of anything… like your ridiculous obsession with freeing the house-elves-," Ron cut his thoughts short at the dark look in Hermione's face, and hastily said, "But you amaze me. You're everything I'm not, and when I'm with you… it's like I'm a complete person. You've shown me that I can be whatever I want too, and I can do whatever I like. When things are going terribly wrong, you keep me grounded," he paused for a second, his eyes concentrating so intently on Hermione's that she thought that he was trying to bore into her own brain. He shuffled his feet awkwardly.
"The best thing about being with you is, you're a strong person. You don't need to be with someone, and you don't need me. You aren't Ms.-Perfect-Veela, who needs me to be with her and fawn over her," he paused, and smirked, "You certainly aren't like Lavender who needed me attached to her mouth every second of the day. It's that you don't need me, but you choose to be with me over every other guy. That's what makes you special above all other girls in the world," Ron finished, placing a soft hand on the back of her neck.
Hermione closed her eyes. She wanted to keep this moment with her forever. She felt the worry and doubt slip cleanly from her mind. She was finally assured that she and Ron were meant to be. She knew that what Ron said was true. They were complete opposites, and that's what made them so perfect for each other. They fit like puzzle pieces.
They had petty arguments, they had none of the same interests, and they didn't think alike at all. Logically, their relationship should've been a cataclysmic disaster.
Yet, they were happy.
And that, Hermione reasoned, was perfect for her.
Ron placed his other hand on Hermione's cheek, stroking her soft skin. Then he descended his lips upon hers, and Hermione felt her body warm instantly at the touch. Hermione closed her eyes and entwined her arms around Ron's neck. She felt a warm tongue slide across her bottom lip and opened her mouth a little, allowing entrance.
Their tongues met in a warm entanglement. The kiss was delicate, Ron's tongue gently caressing her own. Hermione sighed in contentment, her heart feeling lighter than it ever had before. Ron pressed his hand into Hermione's back, pulling her in deeper. Hermione felt all coherent thought fall away, and all that mattered was the warmth that Ron's lips were resonating through her body. She wove her fingers into the back of Ron's hair and nibbled gently on his bottom lip. Ron smiled, breaking the kiss.
"I don't care if she is part veela. Ms. Perfect would never be able to kiss as well as you can," Ron said definitely, resting his forehead on Hermione's. Hermione beamed and tenderly ran a finger across his lips.
"Scouts honor?" she asked seriously.
"Scouts honor," Ron replied with a sharp nod of the head.
"You're such a liar," she teased lovingly, burying her face into his neck and inhaling his scent.
"I could never love anyone else as much as I love you," Ron breathed into her hair, kissing the top of her head. Hermione turned to face him, taking in his radiant eyes, his rosy cheeks, and the sweet smile on his face.
"I know, you prat. And even though you're nothing like my ideal mate, I love you too," she said, laughing.
"It's such a pity that I have you," Ron said fondly, tilting her chin up with his hand.
"Yes, and it's a pity that I got stuck with you," Hermione replied, smiling innocently.
And with that, he pulled her in for another kiss.
