"Ron, you just don't understand!"
"What's there not to understand, he's 18 and you're 15!"
"Ron, I didn't visit him this summer!"
"You didn't visit HIM this summer! How thick do you think I am? You didn't visit HIM THIS SUMMER! Then where WERE you when I sent you an invitation to my house over the holiday, eh?"
"I told you, my parents and I went on vacation to Hungary, the ancient wizards there were simply fascinating!"
"You went to Hungary, who goes there? And isn't that right near Bulgaria where Vicky lives?"
This had done it; he'd said the forbidden word.
"You DON'T UNDERSTAND!"
"Well, Miss Know-it-all, why don't you tell me what I don't understand."
"Well, er, um…"
"See, I do understand!" Ron looked very proud of himself indeed, that look of triumph, even if he was incorrect at the moment, melted my insides. Suddenly, I was driven by emotions not knowledge, as I normally rely upon.
"No," I said very calmly, "you still don't understand." That look of triumph that I admired so much, fell from his face. "I may not be able to tell you, partly because I don't understand it myself, and partly because I think I've gone crazy. But all the same, I can show you."
"How can you—" But Ron broke off, as I moved closer to him, so close that I could feel his breath upon me. Ron seemed confused and scared and quickly backed against the wall. "Hermione?" he said in a voice much like the one I had heard on the Hogwarts Express five years ago. "What are you doing?"
"Well, you want to understand, don't you?" I said following him to the wall, he quickly scooted away, but he scooted between a couch and the wall, his mistake.
"Well, yes, but—" Ron broke off again, realizing that I had him cornered and that the only way to get away would requite much effort. I was pleased to see that the room had been completely vacated since Ron and I had started our argument.
"Well, I said I was going to show you, and I'm a woman of her word." I said looking up into his bright blue eyes, I ran my hands through that fiery red hair, and I felt him stiffen at my touch.
"Hermione—" he was cut off again, but this time it wasn't of his own accord, I had pressed my lips against his, I felt above the clouds. He wrapped his arms around my waist and I found myself in what seemed like heaven, I had wanted to do this for so long, third year definitely, maybe even second, and here I was finally, in fifth year acting upon my feelings. Leaning closer still, aching to get closer to him, he suddenly broke away, I opened my eyes and looked at him.
"Hermione, we shouldn't—"
"Be doing this?" I finished his sentence.
"Yes, what will happen to our friendship?"
"How—but what happens when—"
"It won't," I said firmly answering his unasked question. Tired of conversation, I placed my lips upon his again, and if I thought I had been in heaven before, I was greatly mistaken, but once again Ron broke away.
"You really need to stop doing that," I told him, mourning the loss of his lips.
"Hermione," he said, "if we don't stop now I don't know I'll be able to stop later."
"That's fine with me," I told him, and his eyes widened.
"You mean that you really want this, that you're willing to risk our friendship?"
Finding this a very stupid question, I
responded in the best way I knew, I took his face in my hands and said
to him, "Would I be doing this?" Once again I pressed my lips on his, and
slidding my arms around his neck, while tugging at his bottom lip with
my teeth, trying to gain entrance, although hesitant, Ron eventually let
my tongue gain access to his. Groaning at the touch of tongue against tongue,
Ron slid down the wall and sat against the wall, I remained connected to
him, behind the couch. I found myself sitting on his lap, appreciating
the bulge that I found there. Things were going great, occasional stop
for fresh air here and there, until…
"Where are they? The missed dinner, that's so unlike Ron." I heard Harry say from the portrait hole.
My eyes flicked open and I looked at Ron, he seemed not to notice, I tried breaking away, but his grasp around my waist was too strong to get away, not that I wanted to leave, I just didn't fancy having Harry find us like that.
"I don't know Harry." Ginny replied. Still looking at Ron, his eyes suddenly snapped open and he tried standing up.
" 'Mione, I can't get up with you sitting on me," he said in a normal voice. I clasped my hand over his mouth, but it was to late, I stood up and found Harry behind me and Ginny kneeling on the couch looking over the back of it. Ron got up and looked at the smirks on both of their faces. "Bloody hell," he said, and I had to agree with him.
"Ginny, who had October the 29th?" Harry asked. Ron and I looked at Harry and then at Ginny, she pulled out a piece of parchment from her pocket and looked at it.
"My mum did," she said in amazement.
"Well, I guess she would know her kid best." Harry said matter-of-factly.
"What?" Ron asked, "I don't understand."
"Yeah, you seem to have that problem," I told him.
"Hey, you can't tell me you know what they're talking about," he said smirking at me.
"Well, you would be correct." That look of triumph returned, and I wanted to kiss him again, but I wouldn't do so in front of Ginny and Harry. I didn't know how they'd react, but I didn't doubt that they had seen it earlier, however there was always hope.
"You see, ever since third year the whole house knew of your feelings for one another," Ginny explained, "and a pool was started to see who could pinpoint the date that you finally admitted it. Last year the whole school, and outsiders even joined in."
"You mean—" Ron started.
"That everyone knew but you," Harry said,