Ron/Daphne.
I know I said these one-shots are unrelated, but I guess I lied a little? We're still in the same happy world of Hogwarts after the Deathly Hallows.
The King Strikes Again
It wasn't love at first sight.
"No, I can't say that it was," Ron admitted to Harry one night in the common room. It was late, no one else was there, and the pair was waiting for Hermione to return from the library.
Harry muttered something.
Ron, thinking he heard him right, crossed his arms and leaned further back, a defensive posture.
"Yeah, yeah. It wasn't love at first sight, or the second. Or the first year. The next six years. But now it's different!" He insisted. He shook his head and a funny smile appeared on his face. "Blimey, Harry, I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's possible. It could happen to anybody."
Harry's jaw fell open. Ten seconds passed. Rather than stating the obvious ("She threw your drink at you and kept talking to Nott"), Harry opted to cheer his friend on this one.
"Do you know what you're going to tell her then? On the train?"
Ron ran a hand through his red hair, which had gotten quite long these past few weeks. "I've been thinking of some things, but none of them have been working."
Harry frowned. "You've tried?"
"Just very recently..." He sighed. "Don't tell Hermione. It's bloody embarrassing."
Two weeks ago
Muggle Studies had just ended. Ron, who was taking his time arranging his book bag, had told Harry and Hermione to head off without him, he'll catch up.
This was the only class where Daphne Greengrass did not have any of her catty friends with her—Pansy in particular. When he was sure to be out of hearing distance from most of the others (the other Gryffindors, and Malfoy of course), he quickly walked up to her. Within a few strides, there she was, her back to him, ignorant of the way his hands clammed up and his left leg felt shaky.
He gulped. Say something, bloody idiot.
She'd pushed all her notes in her brown leather bag. She turned swiftly and almost bumped into him.
Daphne gasped. Her light brown eyes took on a confused look as she stared at him, silently demanding explanation.
"I..." he stammered, badly. "Please."
"What?" She shouldered her messenger bag's strap.
"Go out with... me?"
You. Wanker.
Immediately, her face took on another level of surprise. "Oh!"
"Yes," he said, clarifying his intent.
"Weasley..." she said, uneasily. "No."
"Really?"
"Really." Then she smiled a bright and polite smile. "Bye."
All he could say to her retreating back was a prepubescent-boy-sounding, "Okay."
Harry coughed. "That didn't sound bad at all."
"But Harry! I still like her!"
"But you don't want to be a complete weirdo and freak her out."
"What do I do?"
"Let her, cool off?"
"It's the end of the school year!"
"I don't know, ask Hermione!"
"She doesn't know how to catch girls!"
"Lovely to see you, too, Ronald," Hermione sang, which earned surprised looks from the two. She ignored their glances, and instead turned to Harry. "What are you two hiding from me now?"
A few meaningful looks passed between Harry and Ron.
Harry said, "You know Ron's infatuation with Daphne? Well he wants to act on it."
Hermione directed her gaze at Ron and grinned. "Oh, really?" But she quickly tamped down her shock when she saw Ron's blush turning scarlet. "Did something happen?" she asked plainly. She and Harry knew about Ron at the Slytherin party.
Ron shakily clenched his fist on his knees. "Well, there's nothing really to tell..."
"What made you like her?"
"She's... she's bloody hot."
She waited and then frowned. "That's it?" She turned to Harry. "Is it sad that I'm... not disappointed by his reasoning?"
Harry smiled. "Well. This is Ron we're talking about."
Ron shrugged good-naturedly.
"Well, of course she's also a decent person!" Ron added happily. "She smells like flowers all the time."
Hermione looked at Ron. "You know," she said, putting a finger on her lip, "I have a feeling this'll work out, actually."
Ron's ears turned red. "H-how?"
"It's simple." She grinned, a very sure grin that could only have been procured by prolonged exposure to a certain blond Slytherin.
The next morning, bright and early, Ronald Weasley was found standing in the courtyard. He was wearing a fantastic grin and a goofy light sweater, naturally. Students passed him by, giving the ginger some odd and amused looks.
The seventh year Slytherins always came out in packs. Malfoy led the boys, while Pansy Parkinson (yeah, he wasn't sure why, either) led the girls. As such, it was Pansy pug-face who saw him first.
Pansy wrinkled her nose. "Ew, what's Weasley up to now?"
Daphne saw Ron smiling at her. She froze on the spot, getting shoved at the shoulder by Millicent (who kept right on walking towards the Great Hall).
"Daphne," he called out, ruining any chances of getting away. Everyone stared back at her.
He was standing in the middle of the courtyard. Clearing his throat, he pulled out his wand and tapped. "Accio guitar."
Daphne felt herself blush. He was going to sing in front of the whole school? She waited, uncomfortable but way too intrigued.
Ron frowned. Nothing was going his way (literally). He was two seconds away from making a fool of himself when Hermione, naturally, saved the day. She summoned the musical instrument and zoomed it to his arms. Giving a big thumbs up, Hermione mentally urged Ron to get on with it.
He cleared his throat. Swallowed. He refused to close his eyes. Daphne was staring at him, a wary look in her gorgeous face.
The guitar strapped across his back, left hand at the appropriate chord (the G chord, as he and Hermione'd practiced and found the right key in which to play), his right hand engaged and he heard his voice echo throughout the courtyard.
"I could stay awake, just to hear you breathing!"
Hermione beamed, looking very much the proud mother. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Aerosmith? Really?" he muttered to Hermione.
She quickly nudged her friend in the shoulder. "Oh, shush."
"Watch you smile while you are sleeping, while you're far away and dreaming..."
He concentrated on her. He could hear Malfoy and his cronies snickering in the background. He focused on Daphne. But she wasn't giving much of anything, much less a sign that she liked it.
Her face, her beautiful, shocked face, barely looked shocked. She was as impassive as the song was long.
And then he started playing some really nice sounding riffs. "I don't wanna close my eyes..."
Finnegan, who he'll forever remember as the best guy all around, started singing along in the chorus, and beckoned everyone else to join. Bolstered by the camaraderie and support, Ron started getting into it.
His fingers flailed wildly, but with rhythm, and he slowly made his way closer to Daphne.
Pug-face, whose pug-face was screwed up into distaste, grudgingly backed away as Ron approached within five feet of their little group. And then, like the waves being called back to sea, the other Slytherin girls made way, forming a path for him to follow, a direction of Slytherin green ties that led to her.
This is stupid, Daphne thought, her mind frantic as everyone looked at her. Trust Weasley to put her on the spot like this!
He was closing in on her now, and the thing to do, to embarrass him and not her, would be to run, to flee, to run around and just bolt; she stayed.
And then smiled.
Ron grinned at that, missed a lyric, and then continued playing.