A/N: originally published on Tumblr Feb 2022
"Come and dance," he added abruptly to Hermione.
She looked taken aback, but pleased too, and got up. They vanished together into the growing throng on the dance floor.
Hermione followed Ron through the crowd, nearly running into him when, without warning, he turned around to face her. They stared at each other as he clenched and unclenched his fists, and for a fleeting moment she entertained the wild thought that he would try to run away. Then, he extended his left hand, palm facing up.
She slipped her nervous hand into his and placed her other on his shoulder, marvelling at his height. She'd always liked how he loomed over her. It made her feel like he could wrap her whole body in his long arms if he wanted to.
The question was, did he want to?
When the weight of his large palm settled on her hip, Hermione couldn't suppress a shiver. The tips of his ears were pink, but he seemed otherwise calm as they began to sway in time with the slow melody of the band.
"So," Ron said, by way of an icebreaker. "I amaze you, huh?"
She laughed, remembering the conversation with the twins from earlier in the night.
"Every day."
She'd meant for it to sound more facetious than it came out, and her cheeks heated as his eyes widened. She cleared her throat, casting about for a change in subject.
"Where's the fire?"
He blinked, not following her non sequitur.
"You were in such a hurry to get me on the dance floor," Hermione prompted.
"Oh, it's nothing."
She cocked her head to the side and studied Ron's shy expression, intrigued. She had just been trying to distract him from her accidental admission, but something in his tone made her suspicious that he had a different answer.
She couldn't articulate why, but she was determined to know it.
"What?"
His ears flushed a deep red. Hermione, unwilling to let the subject drop, waited, letting the silence stretch between them. The gushing love lyrics of the song served as an awkward backdrop to their nonverbal battle of wills.
Finally, Ron sighed.
"I couldn't let him beat me to it," he muttered.
"Who?"
"Krum."
Hermione felt red hot pangs rolling in her gut, and he at least had the decency to look embarrassed.
"Not this again."
"I know," he said, squeezing her hand. "Listen to me, Hermione, I know. But, he sat down at our table, and he told how you 'vunderful' you looked, and-"
She'd heard enough.
"What makes you think I want to dance with him anyway?"
"It doesn't matter."
Hermione was sure the look on her face could kill, and he paled a bit, backpedalling. "That's not what I meant, of course what you want matters, it's just that…"
"What?" she snapped.
Ron paused, staring up at the ceiling. "He beat me to it last time, Hermione. He beat me to…to you. If I didn't get you this time, I wanted it to be because you turned me down, not because he asked you first."
Life with Ron was a rollercoaster, she could say that. The rage that'd consumed her dissipated as quickly as it'd risen, and she regarded him with care, unsure of how to answer.
"Oh."
"I've always wondered…back then, if I'd just asked you to the Yule Ball first…" He shook his head.
"Ron, I would have loved to go with you." Hermione bit her lip. "It didn't seem like you wanted to go with me."
This is the closest they'd ever come to discussing their feelings. It was a delicate balance; she wasn't sure how much more they could dance around the issue.
For the first time since they'd begun talking, he met her eyes. "I didn't know that I wanted to. It sounds barmy, I know, but it wasn't until I saw you with Krum that I realised how much I wished it'd been me. I wasn't about to feel that again today. Not without trying."
She let the explanation elevate her heart, lifting it higher than it'd been in these last few, long weeks.
His ears still looked as though they were on fire, and he glanced away from her, staring at the ground.
"I'm really glad you asked me," she offered, thinking she'd meet him halfway in his confession. "I prefer you over him any day."
He opened his mouth as though to argue, but she interrupted.
"Don't you dare bring up the fact that he's a famous Quidditch player, Ron Weasley. I don't care. I get to make my own choices, and I say that I prefer you."
He'd never quite looked at her before, the way he was looking at her now. She wasn't sure what it meant, though she felt as though a furnace had opened in her chest.
In a burst of confidence, Ron pulled her closer so their hips and torsos were pressed together. She slid her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in his unique scent, something akin to cedar and leather. They swayed, silent for the remainder of the ballad. Hermione didn't mind; she was in Ron's arms, and after waiting for this for so long, it was all she needed.
The next song picked up pace, and being in such proximity to him did nothing to slow the racing of her heart, nor cool the heat of her flushed skin.
"Hot isn't it?" she said, words muffled into his dress robes.
His answering chuckle vibrated through her chest.
"I'm not letting you off the hook yet." She pulled arm's distance away, and his grin was the easy, lopsided type that made her stomach flip. "This is a family classic! Let me show you the steps."
He squeezed her hand and led her to where the rest of the crowd was queueing. She resisted the urge to squeal, instead grinning in a way she was sure could only be described as idiotic.
They'd reached an understanding of sorts, just now, she knew. Maybe it wasn't the end destination, but it was an important stop along the way.
"Ready to learn the Weasley Waltz?"
Ron had to raise his voice to be heard above his brothers, who'd started a rambunctious pattern of clapping and cheering.
She grinned.
"As I'll ever be."