Disclaimer: Any recognisable material belongs to Jo Rowling. The plot, however, belongs to the author who posted this.

Story title: Close Enough.

Written by: TeahWeah

Date started: 9th February 2006. Completed: 9th February 2006.

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"Close enough"

That's what you said to Krum. Krum. Hot stud Quidditch player who probably gets twenty girls in his bed in less than a week. I'm just assuming... I mean, with a fortune like that, how many girls would refuse to go to bed with him?

Imagine if I called you 'Her-my-own-ninny'? What would you do? Kick me on the shins? Or maybe hex my arse off? The latter sounds more convincing.

Great! I'm rambling to myself in my head as if you're here. I'm losing it.

Feck, I'm not sure why I'm doing this. I shouldn't even be sitting here waiting for you to come. I shouldn't have sent you that letter saying that you should meet me at this restaurant. Circe, this place is too fancy for the likes of me. They even serve bread sticks. Breadsticks! I've eaten five of them so far. They're not that good though but I think they'll help me calm my nerves. So far, five bread sticks aren't enough to calm me down. Maybe a sixth helping will do it?

I'm munching it now.

…

Nope, sixth helping doesn't do the trick.

So, I'm looking at my watch and you're two minutes late… maybe I should just sit here and plan what to say. I admit I'm getting a bit sweaty with all of these tensions.

I'm thinking to myself as if I'm channelling my thoughts to you. This is horrifying.

I admit I never took a second glance to Hermione Granger the first time we met. What with all those bushy tangles on her head that never seem to tame. And I never liked how she acts like she's superior than Harry and I. Never. But after the troll incident, I guess first impressions are always proven wrong. Hermione wanted to be friends with us. She needed friends. She's not the type who would hang out with Lavender (cringes) or Parvati talking about the new hot stud (Krum?) in the wizarding world's show business.

No, that's not Hermione Granger.

Hermione Granger is the girl who would stand up to what's right, regardless how bad her hair looks. Hermione Granger care more about her grades than she does about blokes. Hermione Granger care more about what teacher's think of her than what Slytherin have to say about her compiled together into a book called 'Guides to Handle an Annoying Muggle Born'.

That's Hermione Granger.

I'm not sure what exactly attracted me to Hermione in the first place. Sure, our friendship was always bumpy and rocky and we have the occasional fights but there are always that chemistry that burns between us that goes unnoticed. The only person who detected this burning beacon between us is Harry. The only problem is that he never mentioned it to any of us.

Harry knows our frisson even if I never told him. Harry knows our feelings even if Hermione glued her lips together. That makes him a true friend.

Enough about Harry; as if he doesn't get too much attention these days. Love the bloke as I do, Harry does not need more attention than he already has. Especially in this little story I'm making up in my head.

Note to self: Ron Weasley, write a book. This thing in your head sounds good.

So, it was three days when I went and saw my brother and my sister-in-law sitting together. Fleur was on Bill's lap, kissing his face whenever Bill cracks a joke or two. I have to admit, Bill is ghastly when it comes to making jokes. That's the brother I have to look up to? Uh… no thanks in the being-funny-department.

There was something I saw between them that day that I never seen before. For a fact, I know that Bill and Fleur were always slobbering saliva whenever Mum and Dad aren't around. Except this time, they weren't exchanging spit with each other. Which is unusual.

Turned out it was their wedding anniversary. Hooray. They've been together for five years. Then Bill told me that I should start a move on in tying the knot with someone. The only problem here is I don't have a girlfriend. I know who I want to marry though but fact is I never went out with Hermione. I never even kissed her but I know that I want her as my wife.

I mean, come on, no one can tolerate Ron Weasley longer than Hermione Granger does.

The question is: why?

Why do I want Hermione as a wife, as my lover and worse of all: as someone I want to spend the rest of my waking and dying life with?

The question is complicated and so are the answers. As I said to myself just not, I know we have a lot of bumpy roads together. I always thought that friendship as ours will never go to another level with the arguments we kept throwing at one another. We will stay friends forever, I used to think in our fourth year. Best Friends Forever. BFF as the muggles called it. But BFF is stupid. I would rather be Husband-and-Wife-Forever. HAWF. Pronounce it: hawf.

Like Hermione's spew.

It took me until I was fifteen to know that Hermione understands me the way others doesn't. She knows all the things we've gone through together with Harry. Well, Harry knows too but Harry gets more attention than us.

People always describe us as the Dynamic Trio. Harry has the bravery but he's always in the spotlight. That's probably one thing that made Harry's situation different from ours. Hermione has the books. I have the spirit.

Harry Potter, valour. Hermione Granger, smarts. Ron Weasley, heart.

I want to share my heart with the person with the brain.

Hermione understands me. She knows the situation I go through. The only crisis is that she overlooks subtle hints. She likes the cryptic codes. That's Hermione.

I was blind. I was stubborn in our sixth year to neglect her like that. We could have had something beautiful for a long time. Hermione is never straight forward with her feelings. So am I. It's not exactly romantic to just blurt out: "iloveyoupleasemarryme" in front of someone you love.

Not romantic at all.

Somehow, seeing Fleur and Bill and hearing what Bill suggested really gave me a smack on the face. Am I not a man? I fought six Death Eaters once during the war. Why am I frightened to tell Hermione my feelings?

I should have a new start. I like being the head in the Auror's office. I really do. But I'm missing those finer things in life. Finer things like starting a family. Sure, I don't know much about the female species. I have a younger sister but I'm not going to start treating Hermione like she's my sister. I'm not going to rub off the way I treat Ginny to Hermione.

Yes, I love Hermione Granger. I do. Everyone knows it except her. Everyone knows that it's written on my face but the only dilemma here is the two people involved are oblivious of their feelings for each other.

I know I'm thick but seriously, how can Hermione miss the fact that I love her? HOW?

Again, I'm not sure why I'm doing this: Sitting here in a fancy restaurant, helping myself to the twenty-something breadsticks already. I just asked the waiter to refill the damned thing a few minutes ago.

A part of me tells me that I should run now because I've been waiting for fifteen minutes for you. However, my arse is practically glued to this chair and it would be funny if I stand up with a chair attached to my buttocks. Not exactly fetching. Not only that, I feel as if someone nailed my feet to the floor. I just can't move. I don't want to run away anymore.

I need that new start in life. I want a turning point. A turning point with Hermione.

Merlin, there you are now; standing on the edge of the doorway asking the reception for my table. My goodness, I have no idea what to do now. My brain has stopped functioning but these words I'm thinking just keep on going and going.

You just spotted me. Should I run or should I stay?

Wait… your hair isn't bushy.

You're smiling. I think that's a sure sign for me to stay here.

Plus, I don't want the little velvet box in my pocket to go a waste. It took me a lot of money to buy you a perfect one.

I'm ready for confessions now.

"Thanks for coming, Hermione. I have something important to ask you"

And of course, she said 'yes' to the black velvet box he gave her.

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Author's Notes:

-This story is rambling-driven. The only reason why it's that way is because I always see Ron as someone who stops being concise whenever he's nervous. In other words: Rambling is his nervous habit.

-If reviewed, thank you very much.