CHAPTER FIVE: I KEEP IT TO MYSELF

Hermione leaned against a tall tree growing proudly beside the make-shift dance floor, empty glass of punch in hand. Her eyes cast about the entire Weasley yard, happily taking in witches and wizards talking merrily and laughing. Despite the fact that miles away or hidden halfway around the world, Voldemort and his Death Eaters were busy plotting and planning, Hermione knew that this was what everyone needed. Death and sad endings had been coming more and more often, bringing down the general morale of everyone in the wizarding word. People were giving up in despair and Hermione's eyes narrowed and flashed. But this – this right here was what everyone needed to see. Because even after endings, there will always be beginnings. Bill and Fleur were starting a new life together, despite the shadows darkness tried casting over them. Seeing this would give everyone new hope, a reminder of what they were really fighting for. They were risking lives and sacrificing, not only to stop Voldemort from his evil works and warped thoughts, but they were doing it because there was more to live for. There would be joy, and happiness and new life.

Sighing contentedly, Hermione set her glass down on a nearby table and looked around for Ron, who had offered to get her a new glass. She wondered if she would be able to convince him to dance with her once. It had been so long since Hermione had attended a festive event and she quite liked to dance.

Her eyes finally landed on a shaggy mane of ginger hair and her stomach gave an unexpected lurch as she recognized that it was Ron. Resting a hand near the glass she just set down, she allowed her eyes to roam over Ron as she had not been able to do so before when she was in such close proximity to him.

He leaned against the bar that had been set up across the yard in a casual smoothness that she knew he had no clue he possessed. Hearing him complain earlier about having to wear a tuxedo, she smiled, silently thanking Fleur in her mind for making everyone in the wedding party do so. The tie he struggled with for so long, now hung loosely at his neck, his one hand tucked nonchalantly in his pants pocket, while the other dangled as his elbow leaned on the bar, waiting for the drinks he'd ordered. Ron swung his hair out of his eyes as he talked and laughed with Fred and George only to have it fall back over his eyes once again. Hermione resisted the urge her hand had felt to lift and brush the hair aside so that she could see more of his electric blue eyes as they crinkled and sparkled with animation. Catching herself, Hermione forced her eyes away from Ron and mentally shook herself. What was she doing? That was Ron she was goggling at! Hermione chastised herself.

I looked at you a thousand times
This time when I looked at you there was something new
How could I be so blind?
We shared our secrets in the dark
And though we were only friends
I don't know when this feeling changed within my heart

Glancing up again, she saw that Ron was now heading towards her, drinks in hand. With his tall frame and easy manner, he strode across the yard, weaving his way in and out of people while nodding and smiling at those he knew. Suddenly, Hermione was unsure of what to do with her arms. She felt slightly inconspicuous sitting there. She crossed her legs and changing her mind halfway, uncrossed them again. Feeling heat creep up her cheeks, she finally tucked her legs under her chair and clamped her elbows down hard on the table, wincing slightly at the force she hadn't meant to take.

Normally, she prided herself on being open and direct. If she disagreed with something, then she would say so, just as Professor Trelawney had learned earlier in the years. If Harry was being stupid or thinking things that weren't true, she never hesitated to tell him so and never failed to tell Ron the same as well. Now all of a sudden, butterflies were having a ball in her stomach and she was scared that Ron would read everything she was feeling in her now panicking eyes. She couldn't ever let him know, he would just laugh at her, wouldn't he?

Baby, I keep it to myself
I'm falling in love with you
The harder it gets
'Cause you don't know the love I'm feeling
I keep it to myself
I'm falling in love with you
I don't wanna push you away
'Cause no one makes me feel like you do

Hermione finally managed a semblance of a smile as Ron handed her a new glass of punch and took the seat next to her. Feeling uncomfortable in the silence that followed, Hermione struggled to thing of something to say and gave up by taking a large gulp of the fizzing pink concoction in her glass. The bubbles invaded her nose and throat, and her eyes widened as she struggled not to spit out her drink all over Ron.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ron asked in alarm as he saw her wide-eyes and rapidly turning purple face. He jumped from his seat and began to wallop her on the back, thinking she was choking on something. Hermione finally managed to gulp down her drink, the fizziness burning painfully down her throat.

"Ow, Ron! Stop it! You're going to break my shoulder blade or something!" She choked out. Turning the same shade as his hair, Ron stared at her face once more, making sure that she wasn't really choking and sat back down in his chair.

"Well what are you playing at, then? Downing the glass like it were pumpkin juice or something," Ron cried irritably to mask the rest of his embarrassment at going overboard when he thought that Hermione was choking.

"Thanks anyway," Hermione finally said, feeling a tug of something she couldn't identify at Ron's obvious discomfort. "If I had actually been choking, I gather you would have been a great help." She assured him. Ron smiled at her in thanks and she commanded the butterflies in her stomach to stop their conga line as she strained to hold his clear gaze.

'Come on, Hermione. You can have a nice, normal conversation with Ron. He's your best friend. He smiles at you all the time. Just ask him to dance.' Hermione mentally coached herself. Decidedly, she put her glass down, grimacing as she once again exerted too much effort as the liquid sloshed over the sides of the glass. Quickly wiping her fingers on a nearby napkin, she stood up and faced Ron, who looked up at her from his seated position.

"Come on Ron, we're dancing." She commanded, trying her best to sound like her usual bossy self, hoping that Ron didn't hear the slightly high squeak of her voice when she said his name. She quickly hid her surprise when Ron stood immediately and followed her to the middle of the dance floor.

As they finally stopped and stood to face each other, the quick, catchy tune that was playing suddenly gave a loud screech and stopped. Looking around, Hermione saw the twins at the music table, George distracting the wizard manning the equipment while Fred hastily punched at buttons. Immediately, a soft, musical note filled the open air and slow music wafted around them.

Hermione watched in trepidation as Ron's eyes widened and she feared that he would stomp off the dance floor. Instead, she nearly hiccoughed when he took her hand (she hoped it wasn't frightfully sticky from the punch she'd spilled) and holding her waist, he pulled her closer so that they were flush against each other, swaying gently in time to the music.

I dream of you all through the night
Holding you tenderly right here with me
Wrapped in my arms so tight

Hermione's mouth opened and closed against the soft fabric of Ron's tuxedo jacket. Outwardly, she hoped she looked the picture of calmness because inside her emotions raged about, arguing amongst themselves. 'Tell him. Hermione Granger. I order you to tell him right now.' A high-pitched voice bossed in her right ear. 'Are you kidding? Don't you do it! Don't you do it!' Another voice shrilled in her left ear. Shaking her head to clear the voices, Hermione stared up at Ron as he bent his head closer to hers. "Alright, Hermione?" he whispered, his breath tickling her earlobe and neck and she firmly commanded her knees not to buckle. "Hmm? Oh yeah sure, I'm completely and totally fine," Hermione said quickly, lowering her head to break the eye contact Ron effortlessly commanded.

No, she wouldn't tell him. How close had she come earlier that year, by inviting him to that Christmas party. How he had disappointed her after by allowing her to see him snogging Lavender Brown? Shaking her head sadly, Hermione told herself that if he had really felt the same way about her, he would have come to the Christmas party with her instead of turning into Lavender's Won-Won.

But when I start to tell you how I feel
You tell me 'bout someone new who's right for you
If you only knew my love's for real

Hermione let out a silent breath as she felt Ron's arms tighten around her and she gingerly laid her head against his chest – broad from hours of Quidditch practice. If she couldn't tell him how she felt, she would at least allow herself to enjoy this dance. Being in his arms like this was the closest she would get to her dreams and Hermione marvelled at his touch. At his nearness. She would die of embarrassment if he ever laughed at the feelings she was feeling for him, but at the same time, she couldn't risk losing his friendship, as she knew it would likely happen if she ever revealed to him what she was truly feeling.

I wonder if you feel the same way I do
Then we both could be together forever
So why do I hide all my feelings inside
When I know you're the only one for me
The deeper that it gets
The harder that I fall

Carefully drawing herself ever so slightly closer to him. I'll just keep it to myself, she thought wistfully, and dreamily, Hermione closed her eyes.