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Hermione was lying in bed, impatiently waiting. Caressing a small piece of parchment, thinking over what was written.

His response to her request for a late night meeting in the common room. One word, a keen punctuation and 2 letters. So little to view but so much to think over. When she read it, her brain produced Ron's voice, he sounded enthusiastic which made her smile. Also of note was the kiss he used to sign off. Just being polite in response to her own or did he want to send her that x regardless?

She'd written her invitation during Potions class, as soon as she'd seen him arriving late looking dreadful. It had remained in her pocket for hours while she deliberated whether or not to give it to him. At that time of the day her note had read
'Common room catch up? 11pm? H.'
Eventually she decided to just grab the bowtruckle and do it. Before dinner she hastily took the note from her pocket and added a little x after the H. It felt monumental to her, adding that last character, but this was Ron, he wasn't exactly known for picking up on her subtle flirtatious hints.

Nervous with her decision she'd eaten her dinner as quickly as possible, so as to be ready to leave before anyone else. She passed the note across the table to him as discreetly as possible then announced a return to the library. She was sure Harry had noticed her note, but thankfully he didn't interfere and returned to his treacle tart. She always liked that about Harry, he never got involved in prying or gossiping into personal relationships. For goodness sake he barely seemed uncomfortable dealing with his own feelings, never mind anyone else's.

Hermione had gone to the library, she picked her favourite desk at the back near a tall stained glass window. There was always homework to do these days but this evening she'd find it hard to concentrate. It was eerily quiet even for the library but then everyone was still at dinner. The door creaked open and purposeful footsteps entered, drawing closer to her secluded spot. Her view was obscured by a ceiling high bookcase but she caught glimpses of red hair bouncing between the shelves.

Nerves bubbled in her stomach and she looked down to her homework before he appeared around the end of the aisle. She didn't want him to think she'd been sitting waiting for him. She felt his presence at the edge of the desk and saw his hand slide into her peripheral vision, it retracted and a rolled up piece of parchment remained. Lifting her gaze, she found him staring down at her with that attractive lopsided grin he had and…then…unbelievably bold…he gave her a cheeky wink, turned and left. Without uttering a word. Her heart skipped a beat when he'd winked at her. That was probably an understatement, it might have been a mild stroke. He was so tall and handsome and simply cheeky, how was it that he could totally disarm her? She loved when he was like that. The footsteps faded and the library door creaked shut, she started to breathe normally again gazing after him.

A daydream formed in her mind…instead of leaving after that sexy wink, he'd leaned down, lifted her chin and kissed her gently on the lips. She would have obviously responded eagerly, encouraging him so that without breaking the kiss he'd pull her off her chair to stand. As he's so much taller than her he'd have leaned against the library desk, maybe pushing her homework and quill to the side. She wouldn't have cared if he tossed the whole lot on the floor. He'd have pulled her body in between his legs, she'd be surrounded by him. The kiss would get passionate. She'd have ran her fingers through his gorgeous red hair, down his cheek. She'd have explored his body however she pleased, his kiss being the ultimate permission she needed. A hand could run across his chest, his biceps, down his spine, around his waist, up his muscular strong thighs. He'd pull her tightly into him, she'd press her body against him in the hope of conveying how much she wanted this. He'd touch her too, one hand in her hair while the other roamed freely over her. Over her neck which he might pause to kiss or suck urgently, down her side around over her backside for a brazen squeeze, he would reach down past her skirt hem to the exposed skin of her leg. She imagined his hands rough but warm, lingering when he made skin on skin contact. He'd slowly inch upwards to her backside but underneath the cover of her skirt. She would grind into him, desperate to give her approval and making sure he wouldn't stop. He'd respond by moving both hands to cup her backside.

The thought of him touching her cotton panties was making her flustered, there was a yearning in her underwear which she chastised herself for. She needed to stop this fantasy before they were both naked and she was losing her virginity in the middle of the restricted section. She had to physically shake her head to break out of the reverie. Imagine if he could read her thoughts like Snape had done to Harry. Embarrassment burned in her chest, red and hot. Imagine if anyone read her thoughts. She laughed to herself, they would get quite the shock. She doubted Ron nor any other would suspect her brain so easily conjured sordid thoughts of her best friend. She guessed most people would classify her an asexual bookworm, how wrong they were.

Hermione had many fantasies about Ron finally making a move. Finding themselves alone in the library was an absolute favourite of hers. Why oh why didn't he just do it already? She had moments of absolute certainty that he wanted to but they never materialised. Sighing, feeling dejected but also uncomfortably concupiscent she tried to return to her homework. Looking down she was startled to see the piece of parchment he'd left on her desk. Gods how does he do that!? How does he make her forget about everything and everyone in existence? She grabbed the note.

Definitely! R x

It made her heart swell and she couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the evening. It was pathetic to admit that she was living for these one to one moments with Ron and there was going to be another! Tonight!

She stayed in the library for another hour forcing herself to complete her transfiguration essay before heading to the fat lady's portrait. The quidditch team were huddled in a corner talking last minute tactics for the upcoming game so she'd settled in the armchair next to the fireplace and pulled out a book. After the match briefing Harry, Ron and Ginny joined her at the fireplace and they spent the time chatting. Slagging off Snape, Trelawney, complaining about the amount of homework being set and Ginny's upcoming OWLs, discussing the latest howler that poor Seamus had received. They were all trying to cheer Harry up who was devastated to be missing the match the next morning.

Hermione made her excuses and disappeared up to the girl's dormitory. She'd showered and spent way too long thinking which pyjamas to wear before hopping into bed to wait until 11pm.

This would be the first time they'd scheduled meeting up alone, the first time had been a random encounter, the second a bit more deliberate but this third time was premeditated. Almost like a date, Hermione felt giddy at the thought and silently made her way downstairs.

"Hey" she whispered as she approached the back of the sofa from the girl's staircase. He was already downstairs and openly gawked at her crossing the common room, she couldn't tell it that was a good sign. She'd opted for shorts and a t-shirt. The castle was warming up coming into spring and the fires were still being lit in the rooms, so shorts was acceptably attire right? Who was she kidding? The fantasy of him touching her bare skin was what drove her to pick the outfit. Maybe she'd been too forward with her choice but there was no going back now. He looked a bit shocked.

"Hi" he croaked and gave a small cough like he'd lost his voice. She sat next to him and took in his own grey pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. His top was tight over his chest and upper arms, a combination of being slightly too small, over washing and the fact he'd developed some proper muscles from all the Quidditch over the last two years. He looked good, better than good.

Before she could be distracted or it could turn awkward she decided to get to the point. She'd waited for an excuse to get him alone and she had a perfectly valid topic of conversation planned. "How are you?" she asked.

"Good. How are you?" He answered tentatively.

"I'm worried about you." she stated matter of factly.

"You are?"

"Yes. You hardly ate anything at dinner, which is so unlike you and I saw you running off to the toilet after transfiguration. By the time you made it to potions you were positively green." She was genuinely worried about him and knew this wasn't a conversation she wanted to have in front of Harry. Ron wouldn't admit was debilitated with nerves in front of his team captain and best mate and Hermione didn't want Harry to hear what she had to say.

"Oh…err…yeah just the usual pre match nerves. You know?" He was starting to flush with embarrassment but she couldn't let him off that easily.

"It's the Slytherins and that stupid song isn't it?" she asked, feeling indignant anger rising. Of all the horrible things Slytherins had done, singling Ron out and composing a whole song with the sole purpose of chipping away at his fragile self-esteem really did make her blood boil.

"Yeah and the rest…Ravenclaws are as bad at the moment. And yeah I hate that bloody song."

"Are you vomiting?" he winced at her direct question.

"Yeah a bit"

"That's a fairly extreme reaction to nerves Ron." He shrugged and dropped his gaze. Gods he looked so sad and embarrassed, she wanted her favourite Ron from the library back but this conversation had to be had. And it had to be done tonight. Sometimes she felt her heart could break for him. She wanted to reach out and stroke his face or hug him. But as usual, approaching the line between friendship and more was easy, crossing it was a whole other matter. So she held her hands to herself.

He put up such a front, loveable sidekick seemed to be his persona. Always making sure everyone else was looked after and injecting humour into any situation. But tonight she wanted to make sure he was ok. The horrible things she'd said and done when they had fallen out had been replying in her mind. She'd a guilty conscience.

"I…umm…wanted to tell you that I…that I…think you're a really great quidditch player. I love watching you. I know I said something horrible while we weren't speaking about liking really good quidditch players. It was spiteful. I was…trying to hurt you. I didn't mean it and I'm really very sorry." She stammered.

"You really didn't mean it?" He asked, looking hopeful.

"Well I mean, I do like really good quidditch players, but that category doesn't exclude you and when I said it I intimated that it did exclude you and that was wrong. I knew you were listening and I was trying to rub it in about McLaggan." She admitted. Stopping short of explaining she wanted to make him jealous. Which was ridiculous, you can only make someone jealous if they like you in the first place. Rather than succeed in making him jealous all she'd really done was be as horrid as the Slytherins and gave his confidence another kicking.

He didn't say anything so she continued. "I wish Harry had let me in on what he was planning on doing to you. It was a stroke of genius. If I'd known, he was only pretending I'd have agreed it was a great idea. I got caught up thinking you were both cheating and it appeared that I didn't have confidence in you. I'm sorry for that too. But Ron my point, and there is a point, is that once you get past your nerves you are truly incredible. You don't need Felix to play well. That match against Slytherin proves it. You have nothing to be nervous about. And don't worry about that stupid song, Gryffindor will be singing our version" He still didn't look convinced.

Thinking what would he do to make me smile? She gulped and decided making a fool of herself was the way to go. She reached over and pulled his hand into her lap holding it in both of hers. As much to spur her own confidence as to comfort him. "I'll be singing our version." And she softly sang the first few lines of Weasley is our King before laughing. Merlin, what is wrong with me she thought. What has this boy got me doing!?

Ron looked a bit dazed, he was staring where her hands were clasped around his but she didn't want to let go. The connection felt like an anchor grounding her to him.

"You will?" And there was a glimpse of Ron she wanted to see. His face softened and smiled.

"Of course I will. I always do."

"That means a lot Hermione. Thank you." Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the sound of him speaking her name and he started to rub his thumb across the back of her hand. She looked down to watch, it tickled.

"I hate seeing you in such distress. I want to say it's only Quidditch but I know that won't work." she giggled and rolled her eyes. "So the most important thing is that you know your worth as our keeper. You're a valuable member of that team, they can't do it without you." She wanted to reassure him, hoping to convey an unspoken message through their joined hands. That she thought he was amazing and she was completely and hopelessly in love with him.

Ron gave a look that indicated he was about to argue this point. "No really Ron! They can't do it without you. That match against Hufflepuff was a disaster. They need you. Even more so since Harry can't play."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it."

"Good. I hope you've listened to every word. I hope you take it in and know that I believe in you. Quell your nerves and set out to do what you did against Slytherin. I believe in you. I'll be watching…and singing." She laughed softly and she was just babbling now. "But it's late, you need sleep before the match. We'll go down to breakfast together tomorrow, yes? I want to see you eat something before the match and please try to keep it down."

"I don't really know what to say. I didn't know you were this keen for Gryffindor to win the cup."

"Ron, you know I'm not. This conversation isn't about Quidditch, not really. What I'm keen for you to do is have confidence in your abilities, confidence in yourself and I don't want to see my best friend making himself ill over misplaced self-doubt."

"Ok, I think I get it." He smiled.

"Good. Now to bed." She wanted to stay up with him for hours, until day break, talking and holding hands but she wouldn't be held responsible for the keeper falling asleep on his broom. There would be more evenings she hoped optimistically. She really really hoped but she promised herself he'd have to make the next move. If he wasn't interested in her she couldn't…wouldn't keep pursuing him indefinitely.

They walked to the bottom of the girl's dorm staircase together which was silly really, it was only a few paces from the sofa and she knew the way obviously. But she was glad for a few more moments with him.

"Best of luck tomorrow Ron." she whispered in his ear as she reached up to hug him. He wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her flush to his body. She could feel his hands on the naked skin of her back where her t-shirt had ridden up. He drew more ticklish circles on her skin which felt incredible. She smelled spearmint on his breath. He suddenly pulled away so she let go and took a step back. But before either of them could move she stood up on her tiptoes again and bravely kissed his cheek. If that wasn't a massive hint she didn't know what else she could do. Possibly screaming 'I love you' in his unsuspecting face but she didn't think her ego could ever recover from that.

"Goodnight Ron." She smiled at him and ran off upstairs before she could see his reaction. Trying to hide the red blush rising in her own cheeks.