It was the trio’s sixth year, and, as usual, Harry, Ron and Hermione had an alarming amount of homework. Well, Ron and Harry did; Hermione had already completed her homework, as was her custom. The three were sitting in the Great Hall on a beautiful Saturday morning, when Hermione started nagging at them about finishing their homework.
‘– and honestly, you’ll both fail your NEWTs next year! And then you won’t be able to become Aurors, or –’
‘Alright, Hermione, we get it!’ interjected Ron angrily. Hermione had delivered this speech no less than twenty times. Unfortunately, it always resulted in the two Gryffindor Prefects fighting.
‘No, obviously you don’t, or you would both be finishing your homework when you get it, so you aren’t stuck in these situations!’
‘Situations?’ Ron asked. ‘And what would these situations be?’ Harry kept his eyes on his bacon and eggs, bracing himself for the explosion he was sure would come.
‘Leaving your homework until the last minute, then having to stay up really late to try and complete it!’ Hermione said scathingly. ‘It’s so aggravating, going through the same thing every time, just to have to lend you mi –’
‘Well, if we always go through the same situation, and it always ends up with me and Harry copying your work, then why don’t you just let us copy it when your finished? It would save us all loads of time.’ Harry closed his eyes tightly. Anyone in their right state of mind would have backed off instantly; Hermione’s hair seemed to crackle with electricity and her face adopted a furious glare.
‘Ronald Weasley!’ Hermione half-shouted, earning looks from some of the other breakfasting Gryffindors. ‘You are a prefect! You are not supposed to copy other people’s work! Besides, I know you can do it by yourself if you didn’t leave it to the last possible second!’
Hermione’s breathing was slightly ragged, and her eyes were reduced to slits as she glared across the table at Ron. Ron, however, was staring at Hermione in disbelief. Underneath the usual rant, he thought he heard a well covered-up compliment. He decided to let it go. After all, it was probably just his imagination …
The three finished their breakfast in silence. Ron had challenged Harry to a game of Quidditch before the training session that afternoon, and they were on their way out of the Great Hall when they heard Hermione yell: ‘Make sure you finish your homework!’
Harry and Ron grinned at each other. ‘We will, Hermione! You should definitely learn to live a little,’ Ron retorted.
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Hermione asked, her face a cross between amusement and annoyance.
Ron half-shrugged and turned around to continue walking with Harry, leaving an obviously confused Hermione at the Gryffindor table.
**********
Harry and Ron came in from the Quidditch pitch at lunch looking extremely windswept. They were talking excitedly about what Angelina might have them do in the practice that afternoon. They had come to the conclusion that it would be a new tactic when Hermione sat down opposite them.
‘I’ve decided I’ll come watch your practice later,’ she said matter-of-factly, while piling mashed potatoes and gravy onto her plate.
‘You’re going to leave your homework until the day after we got it?’ asked Ron incredulously, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
‘Of course not!’ exclaimed Hermione, and Ron looked disappointed. ‘I’ve already done it.’
‘Already done it?’ asked Harry enviously. ‘All of it?’
‘Yes all of it.’ Seeing Harry’s look, she added, ‘I pay attention in class, Harry. With a little research in the library and the proper notes it isn’t difficult to finish your homework quickly!’
The three finished their meal quickly and walked at a brisk pace to the Quidditch pitch. Hermione left them at the changing rooms and she went to go sit in the stands. She watched as they did their flips and turns, and noticed that Ron’s ears turned a deep shade of scarlet whenever he missed the Quaffle. She smiled encouragingly up at him a fair few times when he looked down at her. She hoped she look confident, because she really didn’t feel like that; every time Ron glanced at her, her insides started doing flip flops.
**********
After Quidditch practice, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked back to the castle, Hermione listening to the boys as they talked about the practice. Hermione glanced over at Ron. Ron caught her eye and blushed, turning back to Harry, his ears turning a deep shade of red. Hermione looked back in front of her, a slight blush on her cheeks, but not nearly as obvious as Ron’s shade of scarlet. He’s so cute when he’s embarrassed… thought Hermione. She snuck another glance at him, liking how his hair looked sufficiently windswept. Harry, who noticed this, shot a knowing grin in Hermione’s direction. Hermione only replied with an ‘I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about’ raise of her eyebrows, before turning her head to face the direction of the castle.
Harry laughed inwardly, still continuing his conversation with Ron flawlessly. They are so obvious! The only people that don’t see it are them.
Hermione had a quick dinner, muttering something about needing to look up some fact or other. Harry and Ron, however, stayed in the Great Hall, determined to eat as much as they could to make up for the quick lunch earlier that same day.
‘You know, mate,’ Harry started, ‘you should hurry up with Hermione. If you don’t, somebody might ask her first.’
Ron nearly choked on his dinner. ‘What are you talking about?’ Ron asked, after he had finished coughing.
‘I think you know what I’m talking about, Ron. It’s obvious.’
‘It’s not obvious! It’s –’
‘Oh, so you do admit there’s something to, or not to be, obvious about?’ Harry questioned, grinning.
Ron didn’t answer. He just picked at his mashed potatoes, spooning some into his mouth. Harry laughed in triumph. ‘It’s not funny, Harry!’ Ron exclaimed, looking up from his food, panic in his voice. ‘You’re right! If I don’t do anything soon some other bloke will ask her and then she’ll say yes!’ Ron said, thoroughly panicking now.
‘Ron! Relax. Here, drink this,’ Harry said, offering his best friend a goblet of pumpkin juice. Ron took it, blissfully unaware of the gold shimmer his drink had to it. ‘Just go find her in the library. Ask her. She’ll say yes, to you, and then no one else can ask her! It’s simple.’
‘But Harry…what if she doesn’t say yes?’ Ron questioned, a new reason for his panic. ‘What if she says no? Then what will I do? It’ll be awkward!’ Ron said, clearly not wanting to risk their friendship. He put his head in his hands, whispering to himself.
‘Ron.’ Ron looked up from his hands, looking worried. ‘She’ll say yes.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Well, I could say that I’ve had somewhat of the same conversation with her.’
‘You have?’ Ron asked incredulously.
‘Maybe…’
‘Harry!’
‘Well, if I said yes, I’d be breaking my promise. But I can’t say that I didn’t…’
Ron looked as though Christmas had come early. ‘Well, what do I say? How do I act? Harry, what do I do?’
‘Just be yourself.’
Ron just stared at Harry, as if the suggestion to just be himself was insane. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked.
‘Well, if she fell in love with the real you, then why would you have to be any different?’
‘I don’t know…maybe…wait,’ Ron said, comprehension dawning on his freckled features, ‘Did you say that she…fell in l…love, with me?’ he asked, pointing to himself unnecessarily.
‘Yes, Ron, she fell in love with you,’ Harry said, smirking. Harry bit back a sarcastic remark he was itching to say (‘No, Ron, she fell in love with her other red-headed best friend’). His best friends were head-over-heels in love, and he just hoped that he could be as happy as they were some day. He wished his life was not cursed with misfortune, everyone he cares about being severely hurt, or even dying…
‘Me…’ Ron muttered, bringing Harry out of his reverie. ‘Me…’ he murmured again. Ron shook his head. ‘Thanks, Harry,’ he said, finishing off his mashed potatoes quickly.
‘For what?’ questioned his best friend.
‘For giving me confidence.’
‘Ron, you’re a Gryffindor. You always had that confidence, you just needed to bring it out somehow. Thank Hermione for that, not me.’ Harry paused, quickly finishing his mashed potatoes with Ron. ‘Good luck, mate,’ as Ron stood up, turning to head out of the Great Hall.
Ron smiled. ‘Thanks, Harry,’ he said, leaving Harry at the Gryffindor Table.
Ron walked through Hogwarts’ many halls, his feet just carrying him to the library, his head trying to decipher what he was going to say.
Ron broke out of his nervous trance when he felt his hand touch something cool. Ron shook his head, focusing his head, and say the doors of the library in front of him. Oh Merlin, he thought desperately. What do I say? What if she says no? What if –
But she won’t. Harry said so.
But what if he’s wrong? Ron countered childishly.
When has Harry ever been wrong?
Loads of times! Ron contradicted. In year one, Snape wasn’t the one after the Philosopher’s Stone. In year two, he thought Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin. In year three –
It’s nice to know you think so highly of your best friend, his conscience smirked.
Well, you asked, Ron replied stupidly.
Well, seeing as Harry has been wrong before, I guess you’re on your own now, mate.
‘Just wonderful. Just bloody wonderful,’ Ron muttered.
‘Ron?’ a voice questioned. The voice that had haunted Ron’s dreams for years.
‘Hermione! Hi! Um…’
‘Ron, what are you doing here?’ Hermione asked, her arms laden with numerous heavy volumes.
‘Well, actually, I, erm, came t – to find you,’ Ron stuttered.
‘Why?’ she questioned, turning to walk back to Gryffindor Tower and, somehow, motioning for Ron to follow.
‘Because it’s almost after curfew, and a Prefect can’t be caught after hours, can they?’ Ron replied, falling into step with Hermione.
‘Oh. Thanks Ron, that’s really sweet,’ she said, smiling at him. Ron’s heartbeat starting beating faster, and before he knew it he blurted, ‘Comeforaridewithmeonmybroom?’
‘Sorry? I didn’t catch that,’ said Hermione, looking concernedly at Ron.
Ron cleared his throat before continuing, his heart still racing and his hands starting to sweat. ‘I said, come for a ride with me on my broom?’
‘Ron, like you said, it’s almost after hours. We have to get back the common room,’ Hermione said, turning a corner.
‘Please?’ Ron begged, putting on a puppy-dog face.
‘No,’ replied Hermione, less firmly than she intended to say it. She purposely kept her gaze away from Ron’s eyes, knowing that he would be pulling the puppy-dog look, and she couldn’t resist those big, tempting, blue eyes, that would make any girl melt…
‘Why not?’ Ron innocently questioned.
‘Because…I’m tired,’ said Hermione, faking a yawn. Tired? her conscience scolded. That’s an awful excuse.
‘Look me in the eye and say that, Hermione.’
Hermione spun around, determined to prove to Ron that she was tired. ‘I’m…’ she said, faltering when she saw his baby blue eyes. Damn him, she thought. Damn him and his gorgeous blue eyes.
Ron smirked, watching Hermione having an internal battle. On one hand, she didn’t want to break the rules. On the other hand, she didn’t want to admit that she was scared of breaking the rules.
Finally, Hermione seemed to come up with an answer. ‘Alright, Ron,’ she said. ‘I’ll come with you for a ride on your broom, but you have to do something for me too.’
Ron gulped. Hermione was manipulative. But he’d give anything to spend time alone, with Hermione, under the stars…
‘Ok,’ he answered, sharing her smirk. ‘Name your price.’
‘You can’t ask me for homework help for the rest of the week.’
Ron paled slightly. No homework help? One week of failing classes is so worth this, he thought. ‘Deal,’ he said, discreetly wiping his hand on his pants before extending it to meet hers, shaking on their deal.
With a quick wave of her wand, Hermione sent her books to her dorm room, and turned back to Ron with a mischievous glint in her eyes. ‘Alright, Mr. Weasley, lead the way.’
‘Gladly,’ he answered, leading the way around an approaching corner.
After many peeks around corners, rushed walks through open spaces, and many close calls, Ron and Hermione reached the safety of the outdoors; it was their luck that Filch had left the doors unlocked.
‘Ok,’ said Ron, perfectly audible now that they didn’t have to whisper. ‘My broom’s in the broom shed, so we’ll have to make that pit stop.’
‘Alright,’ answered Hermione calmly. Although she was calm on the outside, she was a wreck on the inside. She hadn’t ridden a broom before, save the flying lessons in first year. And on top of that, she was afraid of heights. Damn Ron and his eyes… she repeated to herself.
‘Got it,’ said Ron, emerging from the shed a moment later with a triumphant grin on his face. Ron felt so much more confident now that he was on known territory: the Quidditch pitch.
‘Great!’ Hermione said, trying to sound cheery.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ron asked, noticing a falter to Hermione’s attempt at a cheery voice.
‘N-nothing,’ she stammered. Like I’m going to tell Ron I’m afraid of heights? He’ll laugh at me!
‘It’s not nothing, Hermione. You’re shaking.’
Hermione laughed shakily, her eyes frequently glancing to the broom in Ron’s hand with apprehension. ‘Hang on…’ said Ron, comprehension dawning on his face. ‘Are you afraid of heights?’
‘No,’ Hermione answered, a little too quickly.
Ron didn’t believe her. ‘You know you can tell me anything, right?’ he asked, his face serious.
‘Yeah,’ she finally replied.
‘Yeah, what?’
‘Yeah, I’m afraid of heights.’ Hermione promptly found her shoes quite entertaining.
‘Well, we will just have to get you over that, won’t we?’ Ron said, smiling mischievously.
Hermione’s eyes widened in fear. ‘No, Ron, no…’ Hermione said, taking cautious steps away from the advancing Ron.
‘No, what?’ Ron asked innocently, taking slow steps toward Hermione. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘Of course I trust you!’ Hermione said hastily. ‘I –’ Thump. Hermione hit the wall of the broom shed. She looked up with terrified eyes at Ron, whose blue eyes were shining with triumph.
Hermione began shaking her head frantically, closing her eyes. She was still shaking her head when she felt Ron’s soft touch on her arm, slowly leading her away from the broom shed. Hermione opened her eyes to see Ron smiling encouragingly at her.
Before Hermione knew it she was standing in front of Ron’s broom. She quickly paled. ‘Go on,’ he said.
Hermione threw a terrified glance at Ron before she shakily picked up his broom and carefully mounted it.
‘Now push off firmly.’ Hermione looked angrily at Ron before attempting his command. Needless to say, her fear of heights was justified. She got three feet in the air before paling even more. She screamed and - thump - fell off the broom.
‘Hermione!’ Ron yelled, hurrying towards her. ‘Are you ok?’
‘Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s not try that again, shall we? Let’s just go back to castle…’ Hermione got up, her face red, and started walking back to the castle. Why do I have to make an idiot of myself every time I’m with him?
‘Hermione!’ Ron called, jogging to her. He looks great when he runs, Hermione thought, biting her lip nervously.
‘W-well, if you’re a-afraid of heights, I-I c-could…’
‘You could what, Ron?’ Hermione whispered.
Ron cleared his throat nervously. ‘I could ride with you,’ he said, his heart thumping wildly. I’d bet my broom she can hear my heart beating right now…
‘S-sure,’ Hermione answered, redder than an apple. Thank goodness it’s night, she thought.
The Prefects walked awkwardly together to where the broom lay, abandoned. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m dong this, but a broom? Why do I have to be afraid of heights? Why can’t he just take me to Hogsmeade or something?
Ron coughed, bringing Hermione back to reality. ‘O-ok,’ he stuttered, his heart beating faster. ‘You can get on the front, and I’ll get on the back…’
Ron watched as Hermione mounted the broom again, more uncertainly than last time; moonlight splayed across her delicate, scared features. She’s so perfect. So beautiful. I have no idea what I did to deserve her. Ron walked apprehensively towards the broom, climbing nervously on behind Hermione. He reached in front of her, grabbing onto the broom handle.
He’s so warm, Hermione thought, her knuckles white from gripping the broom so hard. And he smells perfect. Just like freshly cut grass. It must be from all the Quidditch he plays…
Ron’s breathing increased as he drank in Hermione’s simple, yet intoxicating, scent. She smelled like…strawberries. Yes, strawberries. Probably her shampoo… thought Ron.
Ron shook his head, dismissing his thoughts. ‘So, um,’ he started, his voice cracking. Ron’s ears burned crimson as he cleared his throat and tried again. ‘Put your feet flat on the ground so you can push off.’ Ron lowered his longer legs so Hermione’s could comfortably reach the ground. ‘On my count, push off hard. Ok?’
Hermione nodded stiffly, her face chalk-white.
‘Alright. One, two three!’ Ron shouted, pushing off firmly. Hermione screamed, shutting her eyes tightly.
The wind screamed past them as the broom shot upwards. Hermione kept her eyes clamped shut, afraid to see how high up they were.
‘Hermione, open your eyes!’ Ron screamed, partially drowned out by the wind. Hermione fervently shook her head. ‘Alright then. But I’m letting go of the broom now, and it would be a shame for us to die now, especially when Harry needs us.’
Hermione’s eyes snapped open just as Ron released the broom from his grasp. The broom jutted downwards, and kept falling, picking up speed. Hermione screamed, tearing her hands away from the broom, and grabbed onto Ron’s cloak. ‘Hermione,’ Ron explained calmly, shouting over the screaming wind, ‘you know you have actually have your hands on the broom to stop it from falling, right?’
Even Hermione couldn’t escape this logic. She slowly removed her hands from Ron’s clothes and fastened them around the broom handle. Out of fright, she jerked the broom handle down, making the broom fall faster. Ron’s reflexes had his arms reaching out around Hermione’s waist, making sure she didn’t fall.
‘Pull the broom up,’ Ron yelled, starting to worry about crashing.
Hermione used what strength she had left to right the broom, narrowly scraping the tops of the trees they were flying over.
‘Wow,’ Hermione breathed, finally enjoying the view. ‘It’s…beautiful.’
Ron smiled. ‘Yeah.’ Like you.
Hermione steered the broom over the forests, lakes, and general scenery around Hogwarts, admiring all the views she couldn’t normally see.
As Hermione urged the broom faster and slower – with her phobia of heights diminishing with each minute – her hair flew back, falling in Ron’s face. Ron grinned goofily every time he caught a whiff of her shampoo.
Hermione’s gasp brought Ron crashing back to reality. ‘What?’ he questioned.
Hermione lifted her hand, intending to point, but the broom fumbled and she quickly regained her composure.
‘The stars, they’re stunning,’ she whispered, nodding to the Heavens. Ron looked up and was shocked by the beauty. Even from Ron’s frequent outings on his broom, he had never seen stars as striking. They were scattered all over the night sky, twinkling here and there are Hermione steered the broom over different patches of land and water.
Hermione suddenly tipped the broom forward, causing Ron to reach out and hug her from behind. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, very aware of how close Hermione was to him.
‘I wanted to watch the stars,’ Hermione said simply, her cheeks reddening.
‘Oh,’ Ron said, removing his hands from her waist. He put his hands above the broom handle, just in case Hermione had trouble landing.
Ron was patient as Hermione took several small dips down and leveling out the broom, finally reaching the ground. Hermione jumped off quickly, leaving Ron to tend to the broom. ‘Ah,’ she sighed, jumping up and down. ‘Home sweet home.’
Hermione turned to smile at Ron, but he was busy putting the broom away in the broom shed. Even from the back Hermione noticed how deliciously windswept his hair looked.
Hermione sighed as she lay down on the grass, staring up at the stars. It was breathtaking. If only the wizarding world wasn’t at war…things would be perfect.
‘What are you doing?’ Ron asked, plopping down on the grass beside Hermione.
‘Star gazing,’ she responded. ‘I find it relaxing.’
‘As well as reading big books, doing homework, and telling me and Harry off for something…’ Ron laughed, ticking the choices off on his fingers.
‘Well I wouldn’t have to tell you off if you both didn’t do such stupid things all the time!’ Hermione retorted.
‘It was a joke, Hermione!’ Ron exclaimed, watching as Hermione huffed and went back to looking at the stars.
Ron rolled onto his side, gazing at Hermione. ‘I’m sorry, Hermione,’ Ron said, breaking the silence. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me?’ he asked hopefully.
Hermione rolled over, facing Ron, so that their faces were only inches apart. ‘Yeah,’ she admitted, nodding her head. ‘I forgive you.’ She smiled.
Hermione made to go back to stargazing, but found she couldn’t break eye contact with Ron. Is he getting closer? Hermione thought. She could clearly see the freckles on his nose. He is getting closer. Hermione could count his eyelashes. Do I want him to get closer?
It’s too late now, she thought, closing her eyes as she felt Ron’s soft lips smother hers. Hermione kissed him back, savoring the tingling sensation that shot through her body. It was as if her entire body was on fire…
Hermione broke away first, needing oxygen. She opened her eyes to see Ron smiling at her, breathing heavily.
Ron finally broke the gaze, leaning back on the grass, looking up to the Heavens. Thank you, Merlin, he thought. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but thank you.
To Ron’s immense surprise, Hermione rested her head in the nook in his shoulder, snuggling up close to his warmth. She smiled warmly at him, her eyes sparkling.
Hesitantly, Ron reached over and put a hand around Hermione’s waist, pulling her closer. Hermione nodded, sensing his insecurity. She looked up and smiled at Ron, who grinned widely back, pulling her closer.
‘Thanks,’ she muttered, tilting her head toward the sky.
‘For what?’ he asked stupidly.
‘For everything,’ she replied simply. ‘For being…you.’
Teach Me How To Live by Niamara
Chapter Notes: I've had this story on my compute for a while, and I've finally decided to upload it! Yay me?
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, as usual.