Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends do not belong to me. Alas if only, imagine the wicked things I could do if I owned Ron. ;)
Summary: your typical guy and girl best friend love story. Ron falls for Hermione, his best friend since grade school and in order to save their friendship he places her on blind dates with all the wrong men. So what happens when the one guy who's right for Hermione is the one pushing her away?
Incognito Love
One Turn Me On
Hermione Granger, graduate student of Cambridge and top-notch lawyer at Kerry Spink, was having minor issues with her stove that had yet to be solved.
"You sodding piece of shit, turn on!"
Ah, the wonders of a lawyers' ever so vast vocabulary.
That being said, she violently pressed every knob on the appliance, ignoring the distressed calls that any sane person would've long ago acted upon. However, Hermione was infected by the common cold, dubbed the hormone wrecker by the wrecked herself. Having this excuse, she was most certain it was alright to go as far as arguing with a cheery pink colored stove. Between each hoarse scream of 'turn on you pathetic excuse of a stove' was another twist on a miscellaneous knob that in fact had nothing to do with even starting a flame. Finally exhausted from the mini tantrum she was having, Hermione graciously dumped her weight onto a tattered rocking chair that she had so lovingly named Ann at the tender age of five.
"Sorry Ann…"
Hermione ignored the fact that she was, again, talking to inanimate objects. Leaning comfortably into Ann, Hermione rubbed the bridge of her nose, a bad habit she had picked up young, and glowered at the battered stove.
Where's Betty Crocker when you need her?
Hermione decided to disregard the fact that Betty Crocker dealt with ovens, not stoves. Certainly if she could bake a cake then she could turn on a gas stove.
So caught up in the staring contest with the stove and the rubbing of her nose, Hermione nearly missed the shrill ringing of her phone. She glanced with sluggish eyes at the distance between the phone and the rocking chair, a good ten footsteps, and decided the world was better off without having to witness her in her crabby state. Not to mention Hermione was all together drained from her lack of kitchen skills, especially when it concerned turning on a stove.
A pink stove, none the less.
The scowl deepened, and Hermione was about ready to leap a surprise attack on the unsuspecting pink stove until a voice happily interrupted.
"Mornin' sunshine!"
Hermione winced.
"I know you're there so pick up the damn phone 'Mione."
She remained silent wearily gazing between the telephone and the mocking stove.
"Hermione! Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, Herrrmiooonnneee!"
Before the voice could erupt into an even more colorful array of high and low notes, Hermione picked up the phone and snapped into it.
"Ron you twat, what do you want?"
Ignoring the nasty comment, Ron merrily chortled.
""Mione, you sound somewhat sick, must be the ghastly hoarseness in your voice."
Ron grinned, pleased at hearing Hermione squawk indignantly.
"Gee thanks Ron, you know just what to say to flatter a girl."
"Nah, only when it concerns you sunshine."
Hermione could feel a small smile work its way onto her lips. That was the way it had always been between her and Ron, the best of friends ever since first-grade and she had laughed at him for his large feet and he had laughed at her for her buckteeth. (During nap-time Hermione had secretly crawled towards him and bit him with her 'funny beaver teeth'.) Of course over the years braces proved to be most effective and Ron eventually grew in proportion with his big sized feet. And along with these drastic changes, Hermione was positive she'd never meet someone that she could argue about fish sticks like she could with Ron.
"-nd since you're ignoring me I think I'll make a quick stop at that lovely dump that you call an apartment. See ya sunshine!"
Hermione blinked.
What!
She finally hung up the phone after thirty seconds, feeling rather stupid.
The nerve of that man!
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and went back to rubbing at her nose, renewing the redness of the skin. Deciding there was no helping it; she made her way over to her stereo and played the CD that was currently residing inside it. Soft music made its way throughout the spacious living room and Hermione smiled her consent. Suddenly Hermione felt light-headed and fatigued, quite certain it was the side affects of being sick.
Well I'm sure taking a small nap before Ron gets here wouldn't hurt much.
With that in mind, Hermione slowly made her way to her cream colored couch and curled on it, yawning contently before soft snores filled the room.
Ron could feel the familiar warmth spread through his chest as he caught glance of Hermione's apartment. Parking his car, he nervously grabbed the bouquet of three long stemmed sunflowers and jogged to the elevator.
Why the hell are you so nervous Weasley? It's only 'Mione.
Ron knew better.
Sighing noisily, he waited with mix feelings for the elevator to arrive on the twenty-seventh floor.
Is it just me or is this elevator taking longer than usual?
All fingers pointed to Ron.
With a small 'ding', the elevator doors slid open, slower than Ron approved, and he made his way to door 2708. Hand poised before the door, ready to knock it off its hinges, Ron paused changing his mind. He bent down on all fours, realizing how absurd he must look at that moment, and grabbed the spare key under the worn out welcome mat.
You are too obvious Hermione.
A smirk graced his lips at the thought of Hermione's reaction to his 'treasure hunt'.
You-what-how-but-simply impossible-bloody hell-RONALD!
Ron chuckled and quietly opened the front door, getting ready to surprise his beloved Her-
Whoa, whoa back up pal. Since when has Hermione belonged to you? Snap out of it, you prat.
Ron had made his way deftly through the kitchen and so far there was no sign of Hermione anywhere. He frowned slightly but a predatory grin made its way onto his face. Ron never gave up on a game of mouse and cat. Or was it cat and mouse? Or perhaps it was-
Before Ron could continue his musings, he stumbled upon the living room where Hermione was currently dead to the rest of the world. He paused in the hallway, transfixed at the way one stubborn strand of hair was sliding down her ivory cheek and how her adorable little nose was slightly redder than the other parts of her heart shaped face. Ron smiled at this; she had probably rubbed her poor nose to insanity, again. Ron's attention was soon drawn away to the way her chest lightly heaved up with every breath she took and he turned redder than Hermione's nose when he realized what he was doing.
You're no better than any other pervert out there.
"Ron?"
Hermione's sleepy voice interrupted his inner-battle and soon Ron's blue eyes and his attention were completely focused on her. She met his gaze and Ron inwardly admired how wonderfully warm her hazel eyes were. Finally Hermione broke off the staring first by yawning and rubbing her eye tiredly. She gave him a small smile and Ron couldn't help but blurt out,
"You're ridiculously beautiful, you know that right?"
Hermione turned pink at his words, but gave him a playful smile.
"And you're just plain ridiculous looking but you don't see me yelling it for the whole world to hear."
Ron weakly chuckled along, but could feel slightly dismayed at her words.
She thinks I'm joking. How could she think that? Can't she see how numbingly gorgeous she is?
Before Ron could mourn about this further Hermione spotted the sunflowers behind his back and squealed.
"Ronald Weasley, those flowers better be for me or else I'll be forced to tickle you."
Ron faked a mask of horror and let out an anguished groan.
"No! Hermione, my sunshine, my love, how could you?"
Hermione simply let out a battle cry and leaped on Ron before he could fully comprehend what was going on. He let out a wounded cry and attempted, though it was a very weak attempt, to get out Hermione's clutches. Hermione merely scoffed and began tickling him until tears began to trail down his cheek and Ron finally made a peace sign.
"Alright! I give in, the sunflowers are for you milady."
Ron thrust the flowers towards her. Hermione looked slightly disappointed at how soon he had given up but gladly took her well won prize. She examined the sunflowers then looked down at Ron who was still lying on the ground, wheezing from the tickle attack. Hermione smiled fondly down at him and lightly kicked him.
"Oh get up; I didn't get you that bad."
Ron childishly stuck out his tongue and slowly got up, groaning.
"I think you broke something…"
Hermione waved a hand in the air carelessly as she found a vase, amazingly, large enough to hold the three stemmed yellow monster.
"Don't be daft Ron, you're fine. Maybe a tad out of shape but there's no helping that."
Hermione shot him a mischievous smile and Ron gasped, appalled.
"I'm deeply offended Miss Granger. Are you saying my figure is not to your liking?"
Ron instantly reddened when Hermione slowly examined him, her gaze leaving him feeling rather vulnerable. She smiled a lazy smile and sauntered over to his still figure until her head was placed directly under his chin and huskily breathed into his ears,
"What I am saying, Mister Weasley is that while your figure may prove quite pleasing to others, I'm afraid it does not reach to my standards."
Ron wasn't sure whether he was more delighted or distressed at the fact that Hermione Granger was actually flirting with him. Ron decided he was much more distressed. How on earth was he going to hide his feelings for her when she was acting so bold? How on earth was he going to hide his affection when he enjoyed how bold she was acting? Ron inwardly moaned; he was without doubt, doomed.
Unable to resist any longer Ron pulled her firmly against him, silently thrilled at how her body felt so perfect pressed against his and murmured quietly,
"Well Miss Granger, I'm afraid you have deeply insulted my masculinity and for that you owe me a favor."
Hermione tipped her head back to give him a questioning look and slightly cocked her head to one side.
"Is that so?"
Ron was positive that if he didn't answer her question soon he would be tempted to ravish her with her soft rose colored lips, just begging to be kissed. His grip on her arms slightly tightened as he tried to cling onto the last remains of his sanity. Giving Hermione a shaky nod the next words came out too harsh for Ron's liking.
"Yes, dance with me 'Mione."
Her name came out as a plea and Hermione gazed into his deep blue eyes. How many times had she found herself lost in those gorgeous eyes of his? More than she felt comfortable with.
"There's no music on."
Ron grabbed the stereo's control from off the table and pressed on, the music once again starting from track one. Ron smiled as he heard the singer's melodious voice drift softly through the room.
"Norah Jones?"
Hermione just gave him an impish grin.
"What can I say? She's a woman after my own heart."
Ron made a noncommittal sound and wrapped one arm around her waist, the other clutching rather possessively at her slender fingers embracing them in his own. He placed their hands on the left side of his chest, just so that maybe she would feel the rapid beating of his heart. Hermione gave into the sensations and placed her head onto his shoulder, inhaling the radiating scent of soap mixed with pineand the musky smell of a warm summer eve. It was absolute heaven.
Like a flower, waiting to bloom
Like a light bulb, in a dying room
I'm just sitting here, waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on
Ron could feel his heart contract painfully at how close Hermione was to him. He wearily laid his head atop of hers, a soft scent of flowers after a summer's storm assaulting his nose. Without noticing, Ron buried his nose into Hermione's hair and inhaled how nice she smelled. He groaned quietly.Nice was most definitely an understatement.
What am I doing?
Like the desert, waiting for the rain
Like a school kid, waiting for the spring
I'm just sitting here, waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on
Hermione was currently contemplating the same thing and moaned miserably at how a simple caress on her back made her feel weak in the knees.
Watch yourself girl.
My poor heart, it's been so dark
Since you been gone
After all you're the one who turns me off
You're the only one who can turn me back on
No man should dance this sinfully well.
No woman should smell so good.
Shit.
My hi-fi is waiting for a new tune
My glass is waiting for some fresh ice cubes
I'm just sitting here, waiting for you
To come on home and turn me on
Turn me on
Author's Note: woo wee! I'm finally finished with chapter one, and hopefully you found it to your liking. I'm sort of a newbie at this, obviously, so go easy. Well you probably know what I'm going to ask next (more like grovel). Please, please review! It would mean a lot to this lowly writer. woo wee! I'm finally finished with chapter one, and hopefully you found it to your liking. I'm sort of a newbie at this, obviously, so go easy. Well you probably know what I'm going to ask next (more like grovel). Please, review! It would mean a lot to this lowly writer.