Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who wrote reviews on the last chapter.

I know there are a few questions around why Ron is being weird and why Hermione hasn't put all this together sooner. Some of the answers are in the upcoming chapter, but overall, just think of them as idiots in love being stupid (which is why it took years for them to get together in the books).

Thanks for taking the time to read. I really appreciate it!


Chapter 5:

Hermione's voice was lodged in the back of her throat, but her body acted on instinct, not even glancing at his hand as she took it.

He pulled her out to the center of the room, guiding her around as she settled in front of him. She slid her free hand up onto his shoulder as he placed his hand on her waist.

As if the world followed his whim, the music started, and they began to dance.

Just like the other dreams, she seemed to be fully adept to the time period and the era-appropriate dances. They glided across the floor in perfect harmony.

Ron's form was strong yet tender, ensuring every twirl and dip was thoughtful and smooth.

They stared at each other in silence as they glided around the room, and Hermione was sure both were wondering the same thing.

"Are you real?" Ron's hands tightened around hers, a bead of sweat sliding down his neck.

Hermione nodded, feeling her cheeks flush further. Ron nodded back as if acknowledging he was too, and they continued dancing in silence until the song came to an end. Many others joined in as the next song spurred to life, but Hermione was finished.

Ron seemed to read her mind, and they both weaved through the crowd and out a side exit, which led directly to a private balcony.

The balcony was made of Carrara marble, with a low banister circling the entire area in a half-moon shape. This space alone was bigger than her flat.

The forest covered the view below, but above were millions of perfect stars glittering across a midnight blue sky. Hermione took a moment to soak it in.

Ron walked out and sat on the marble bench that outlined the banister and then changed his mind standing back up again as if something had pinched him.

She could tell he was jittery. She was too. Hermione took a few steps forward, then turned back, unsure of what to do with herself.

"So…," Hermione tried, "is this my fantasy or yours?"

"I think it's mine," Ron smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Hermione nodded and took a tentative step towards him.

They stood in silence another moment before both chuckled.

"I'm...uh...just a little nervous," Ron admitted.

"Me too," Hermione acknowledged, rubbing her arms. There was a slight breeze, and a shiver passed over her.

"Chilly?" Ron reacted, pulling off his coat and resting it over her shoulders.

The warmth and smell of him filled her up.

"Thanks," she smiled back, "should we sit down?"

"Sure," Ron responded, guiding her over to a marble bench at the furthest point from the doorway.

They could hear the music saunter out from the ballroom, but neither noticed as they prepared to have the first honest conversation in the history of their relationship.

"I didn't realize you were into Victorian-era balls," Hermione teased, giving his shoulder a nudge.

Ron rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"The Yule Ball…" Ron started, "it reminds me of the Yule Ball."

"Your fantasy is going to the Yule Ball? I thought you were miserable there?" Maybe she didn't really know him at all.

"I was," Ron responded, annoyed. "I just thought that taking you would have made it better…" he tapered off.

Hermione clamped her mouth shut, not expecting that. Ron stood up and paced back and forth, then looked over at her.

"Me?" Hermione asked, pointing at herself as if there was another woman sitting two seats down that she was being mistaken for.

"Yes, you," he returned. "I wish I had asked you...I wanted to go with you," he rephrased.

"But…" Hermione tried, unable to process his response, "you don't like me...like that."

Ron rubbed the back of his neck again and took a deep breath, "yes, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I DO," he said, a little more adamantly.

"No, you DON'T," Hermione argued back, matching his tone and raising it. She was now standing with her hands on her hips as if it was a competition of wills.

Ron stepped up to her and grabbed each of her shoulders, "YES, I DO!"

Hermione brushed his arms away, her face growing red. "I KISSED YOU!" she screeched at him, "I kissed you, and you pretended that it never happened."

Ron took a few steps back to protect himself from her onslaught. She was breathing hard. It felt good to let it out, to finally show him how hurt and angry she was by his actions.

"I know," he breathed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"You know?!" Hermione threw her hands up, exasperated.

Ron pushed her to sit down, but her face continued with its angry scowl.

"I thought you may need time to realize your mistake," he answered, wringing his fingers.

"My mistake?" Hermione questioned, still as confused as ever.

"We were in the middle of battle. We had been camping together for a year. I didn't want you to be...confused."

Hermione stood there in shock, and then her eyes turned to slits.

"Confused?" She hissed. "Is that how little you think of me, that I'm just a child that can't decide for myself who I care about?"

"No," Ron's face froze, realizing he'd wandered into dangerous territory.

"Oh, so what then, Ron?"

Hermione watched him, daring him to continue this line of conversation.

"I just wanted you to be sure and not change your mind later…."

Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron continued before she could get a syllable out.

"And I'm glad I did, because I was right, wasn't I?"

Hermione shook her head, baffled. "Why would you think that?"

"Cameron Baker," Ron exclaimed as if that explained everything.

"What about Cameron?" Hermione asked, her hands pressing firmly against the marble bench.

"Ginny said you started dating Cameron at Hogwarts," he continued, frowning.

"Your point being?" Hermione asked, now understanding a bit more of the situation.

"You realized things weren't as serious for you, so you found someone better than…"

"Better than what, Ron?"

Ron bit his lip, his face scrunched as the words came out.

"...better than me."

The words hung in the air, and Hermione deflated. All of her anger was sucked out of her. It was difficult to see Ron in pain because of her. To see how both their insecurities kept them from communicating with one another. Despite Ron avoiding her at all costs, she had to acknowledge that she could have resolved this ages ago by having an honest conversation with him.

Hermione cleared her throat, and Ron looked up at her.

"Yes, I went on three dates with Cameron. He was nice, friendly, and showed me attention when I was feeling lonely. I did that because after ten months of us no longer talking, I figured I should try to move on."

Ron's body was hunched over, dipping lower and lower with every word she spoke.

"But, after three dates, I realized it was useless," she sighed. Ron glanced up, and she smiled back at him. "I didn't want anyone else...the only person for me is you."

Ron jerked up in his seat, surprised by the last statement.

"Me?" he returned.

"Yes." Hermione nodded as if she had just confirmed a complicated Runes question. "You."

"No…," Ron responded, shaking his head.

"We're not going to do this again, are we?" Hermione asked.

Ron smiled and reached for her hand. "I suppose not."

There was another long silence as they digested the information.

"Mione," Ron cleared his throat.

Hermione nodded, her breath catching in her throat. They were so close to something that she could almost taste it.

"You're the only one for me too," he breathed. "You always have been, and...I love you."

Hermione didn't move, didn't breathe as she tried to comprehend what he'd just said. The words she'd fantasized about for ages were actually coming out of his lips, even after all this time.

"I love you too, Ron."

Hermione could see Ron's face coming to life as if he'd just been given the answer to the meaning of the universe, and he pulled her up into a standing position.

His coat fell off of her shoulders, but neither noticed as they were staring into each other's eyes.

He snaked his hand into her curls, and without hesitation, pulled her in for a kiss. As their lips touched, fireworks went off in the distance, but neither broke apart as fireworks were also going off in Hermione's mind.

His touch was soft, and the pressure as their lips pressed together was magical. Hermione couldn't tell if it was because the dream heightened these emotions or because they were both finally connecting.

After a few minutes of learning each other's touch and taste, they pulled apart, though their foreheads were still pressed together.

"I could get used to this," Ron sighed.

Hermione hummed her appreciation in response.

"Though…" Ron perked with a devious grin, "maybe you would prefer a massage in ancient Egypt instead?"

Hermione's eyes widened in embarrassment. She playfully smacked him and pulled away, taking a moment to think of her response. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn't sure how forward she should be. The feeling of finally being honest with him was intoxicating, and all she really wanted to do was tell him what she was thinking.

"You know what I really want, Ron?"

"What's that?" Ron teased.

"I don't need a fantasy at all. I just want you to take me to my bedroom and shag me senseless."

Ron's eyes grew to saucers, and Hermione was about to take it back and pretend it was a joke, but Ron interrupted her with another kiss, this time more forceful and passionate.

She lost herself in him, until everything faded away.


Hermione woke up with the birds chirping and light shining through her window. She stretched her arms and shifted in bed.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, she shot up, realizing what had occurred in her dream. It had to be real, right? She and Ron? It wasn't just a fantasy of hers that everything worked out?

Hermione sat there clenching her comforter, unsure of how to solve this predicament. Should she go over to his flat to ask him, or would she look like she'd lost her mind?

Hermione was interrupted by a loud banging on her front door. She scuttled out of her bed and grabbed for her fuzzy slippers before pacing over to the entryway and opening the front door.

There, in only his flannel pajama bottoms, was Ron, standing at her apartment door, using his hand to hold himself up against the door frame as if he'd just run the entire way here. His chest was firm, and his rippling abs made her throat go dry.

He looked up at her with a dark and irresistible expression.

"Hi, Ron."