Summary: "Maybe that was the taste, Ron pondered, feeling slightly intoxicated. The taste of books, flowers, and candy…Ron loved candy. He loved Hermione, too." A short oneshot on Ron's fantasizing of sweets and Hermione Granger. Set in mid-HBP, somewhere.

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Afternoon Confections

Rasielle

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"Ron, these gifts are wonderful, and I love them, but it isn't my birthday or anything special. Why on earth are you even bothering to get me flowers, of all things? And why are you staring?" Hermione demanded impatiently, that familiar little furrow between her eyebrows.

Not missing a single beat, Ron smiled a half-smile, took a step forward, and closing the distance between them he planted a firm kiss on Hermione's mouth, not waiting for her to protest or fight. After a heartbeat of struggle, he felt her relax. Deliciously dizzy, he soon lost himself in her scent, the sensation of books, flowers, candy…

Candy? Odd. He never really saw her eat candy.

Candy…

"Candy? Candy! Ron, candy again?"

And that was that.

Ron blinked and stared around; everything was spinning into focus again. In front of him lay a pack of sweets looking too brightly colored to be edible. Seated across from him, Hermione was snapping, as usual. Candy, Ron wondered vaguely. He smiled a little.

"Is that all you ever buy? Besides Dungbombs, of course, but those are hardly any better! Really, Ron, I even wonder if you will mature – it certainly doesn't look like it, does it?"

Ron shrugged and pushed some mint-chocolates toward her. Surprised, Hermione stared at them and shot him a disapproving glare. Maybe that was the taste, Ron pondered, feeling slightly intoxicated.

The taste of books, flowers, and candy…Ron loved candy.

He loved Hermione, too.

She gave him a frown and stood ready to leave for her regular trip to the library, muttering something about big-eared prats not paying her the least bit of attention; like a cat, she stalked off out of the Great Hall. Ron watched her go, wondering if she took the candies.

He looked at her previous seat; indeed, the candies were gone. Ron's grin broadened.

"Mate," Harry said, a condescending smile twisting his lips. "You've got it bad. Lucky, though, that she didn't see you stare. Her parents are dentists. I dunno if she'll eat them."

"You think?"

"But she likes mint-chocolates."

Pausing, Ron considered this. She'll eat them, he decided, thinking back on his daydream. Maybe it was a vision of some sort, a premonition?

Ron didn't even listen to a word Harry said, while he jabbered on about the new broomsticks on display in the Quality Quidditch Supplies window. You know what? Ron thought to himself. I'll make it a premonition. This afternoon, maybe? Although I don't think I'll get her flowers.

No time for that.

"Ron, are you listening to me? Oy, Weasley, you romantic sop… why don't you just tell her? It'd be good for the both of you."

Ron snapped to attention. "Tell her what?"

"You know what I mean. Why don't you?"

"I… don't know."

"Well, you should. Girls like Hermione like dramatic gestures. Remember Lockhart? Merlin, Ron, you can give him a run for his money – didn't know you could be such a swooning git."

Inwardly, Ron smiled. He wasn't a swooning git before – he never recalled being romantic at all – but there was just something about Hermione… "Call me sentimental."

Harry raised his eyebrows and chuckled softly. Ron was never sentimental. And Hermione knew that just as well as any other Hogwarts student.

Ron tuned out again. She likes mint-chocolates? I hope she eats them. That probably was a vision… I could shame Trelawney like this!

This afternoon, maybe, after she had eaten them?

But did Ron have the courage to do this? Why, bloody hell, of course he did – he wasn't in Gryffindor for nothing! It was just… Hermione was so different, you know, so special… he didn't want to bloody mess up whatever it was he'd end up doing. He just really hoped she'd taste like candy, like in his daydream. He loved candy.

Harry had begun talking once again, this time about his suspicions on Malfoy's whereabouts in Hogsmeade. No chances of the talk turning to Hermione, again. Ron didn't bother to pay any attention. He was too busy envisioning his scene for the afternoon, too busy getting lost in the taste of books, flowers, and candy all in one; too busy trying to remember how good her dream-kiss tasted, everything he loved about her and could ever love about any girl in general, how peculiar it was that her lips were shaped just perfectly for his – almost like a puzzle piece – and how funny it was that he liked mint-chocolates too…

This afternoon, then?

Oh, definitely.

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Afterthoughts: Oh, that made me smile. I know Ron should be a bit more insensitive and… tactless, but I've given him feelings. I know; the world needs me. Heh, he's just matured, people. Honest. All men have got a romantic side; it just takes that one, special person to bring it out. Oh, and where in HBP this is, I don't know and care. That said and done, I welcome feedback.