It was the moment he had been dreaming of for over a year. Finally, beneath the tree by the lake, he kissed the woman he had liked for almost three years. Hermione Granger - she was everything he had hoped she would be.
"See you later, Ron," she said dreamily as she made her way back toward the school building. He knew he would see her after her next class, but he missed her already.
He waited until she was out of sight, and then he jumped for joy. He had never been so happy, and just that one first little kiss meant more to him than any of Lavender Brown's marathon suction-cup kisses.
Ron stayed by the lake another hour and finally floated back up to the castle. He was walking down the hall toward Gryffindor, when he heard footsteps approaching. Not wanting to be caught with the goofy grin he knew was slathered across his face, he jumped behind the nearest statue. To his surprise, it was Hermione and Padma, and they were deep in conversation.
"...it was so slimey...disgusting even," he heard Hermione's voice tell Padma.
"Did you tell him?" Padma asked.
"No, I was too embarassed. I could tell how hard he was trying. He definitely needs some tutoring..." Hermione's voice faded as the two girls made their way around the hallway's corner.
The grin vanished off of Ron's face. Hermione thought he was a bad kisser! His face blushed scarlet, and he raced to the nearest bathroom. He rested his hands on the sink and gazed at his reflection in the mirror. How would he ever live this down? He liked Hermione so much, and obviously she wasn't going to tell him how awful she thought it was. What was he going to do?
The bathroom door swung open, startling him. To his relief, Harry Potter entered the room. "What's the matter, Ron?" Harry asked. "You look like you've just lost your best mate."
"Worse, Harry. I'm telling you this because I know I can trust you, and I know you won't laugh. I kissed Hermione-"
"That's great, Ron!" Harry exclaimed, clapping him on the back.
"Yeah, except I just overheard her telling Padma how disgusted she was by it!"
"No! Hermione wouldn't say that."
"I heard it plain and clear, Harry. She said it was slimey and she was too embarassed to tell me. What am I going to do now?"
"I don't know, mate. Wait - what if you practiced kissing so the next time you kissed her it was better?"
"I don't think Hermione would like it much if I was out kissing other girls, Harry - practice or no."
"No, you git. I mean practice like a normal kid does - with your pillow."
This confused Ron. "What?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Don't tell me you've never practiced kissing by pretending your pillow was a girl!"
"No...and I have five brothers. I'm sure they never have either."
"I bet they did, Ron. They just didn't tell you. All boys do it. Trust me. It really helps."
"Did you?"
"I still have problems sleeping at night because I think my pillow is Cho," Harry responded with a laugh. "Except now I'm afraid she'll bite me instead of kiss me."
"Ok, mate. If you think it will work. I have to get better at this. I've waited too long to be Hermione's boyfriend for it to end because I can't snog her properly."
With that, Ron left the bathroom and made his way back to the dormitory. Once on his bed, Ron looked around to make sure none of the other boys were in the room. Satisfied he was alone, he picked up his pillow and tried to imagine it as Hermione's head. The soft, bushy curls, the bright brown eyes, her soft lips... Before he knew it, his own lips were buried in the folds of the pillowcase. He didn't understand it. He didn't seem to have any problems kissing the pillow. What could be the fault in his kissing?
His thoughts were interupted suddenly by a loud snicker. Ron jumped off the bed abruptly and found himself face to face with Dean Thomas, who was now laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face.
Ron's face flushed in anger. "What are you laughing at?" he sneered.
"What in the name of Merlin were you doing?" Dean managed to ask through his hysterics.
"Practicing..." Ron murmured.
"Didn't you have plenty of practice, Won-Won?" Dean prodded, alluding to the humiliating nickname Lavender had bestowed upon him.
"Don't make me pummel you, Thomas," Ron growled. "Do you have any better ideas?"
"Well, I used to practice on my hand, and your sister never had any complaints."
"A sight I still have not forgiven," Ron hissed.
"All right, mate. I know when I'm no longer welcome." His eyes gazed back at the pillow. "I'll leave you two alone."
Ron hurled the pillow at Dean, but it bounced softly off the slamming door. He looked down at his hand. It couldn't hurt, could it? He raised his hand to his mouth and proceeded to practice some more. Salty, he thought.
Finally, the growling of his stomach told him he needed to focus on pursuits other than snogging his fingers. He glanced at his clock and realized dinner had started fifteen minutes ago.
He raced down to the common room, which was empty, except for a lone figure curled up on a squashy couch. Hermione.
"I've been waiting for you," she said softly.
"Have you?" Ron asked, feeling his face go red again. He couldn't quite look her in the eye.
"Ron, is something the matter?" Hermione questioned. He had always hated that she could read him so easily.
"Hermione," Ron began, sitting next to her on the couch, "I have a confession to make."
"Oh no," Hermione said. "No good conversation ever starts this way."
"It's just that - well - I heard you tell Padma that you thought I was an awful kisser."
"What?" Hermione looked very confused.
"Yeah, after your class, when you were walking back to Gryffindor. I heard you tell her you thought our kiss was disgusting and slimey, but that you were too embarassed to tell me."
"Ron, I don't know what you're talking - oh..." the understanding dawned on Hermione's face. First she blushed, and then she giggled. "I wasn't talking about your kissing, Ron," she said with a laugh.
"You weren't?" Ron eyed her suspiciously.
"Of course not! Ron, I was tutoring Dennis Creevy in Potions! The potion he was working on exploded all over both of us - and IT was slimey and disgusting. I didn't want to tell him he was getting worse at Potions instead of better, because I can tell he is trying so hard!"
The words took a moment to sink in. "Dennis Creevy? Potions?"
Hermione nodded with a smile.
"So...you don't think I'm an awful kisser?" he asked softly.
Hermione blushed again. "No, Ron. Just the opposite in fact. I really liked the kiss. It was even better than I had hoped it would be."
Ron felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted from him. He once again felt the goofy grin take over his face. "Well it's only going to be better the second time, Hermione. I've been practicing all afternoon."
"What?" Hermioned raised her eybrow suspiciously.
"Nothing," Ron said quickly, and promptly ceased to take her mind off the subject by leaning over and giving her another kiss. He just hoped she wouldn't be able to taste the salt or feathers on his breath.