Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings, or situations from the Harry Potter books. Ideas from "A Christmas Carol", of course, come from the book by Charles Dickens.
Christmas Morning
I awoke to a shaft of sunlight coming through the window. Harry was still snoring, and a look at the clock told me it was very early in the morning. Dawn, in fact.
"It's not too late. It's not too late." I jumped out of bed and started to run down the stairs, intending to go to Hermione's dormitory and tell her how I felt, sliding staircase be damned. Suddenly remembering the present I had bought her, I turned around and tore open my trunk, grabbed it, and then ran down the stairs.
I reached the bottom of my staircase and ran toward hers, stopping on the first step. On second thought, if I tried to get up that sliding staircase, I might end up in the hospital wing. That wouldn't be very romantic. "Hermione!" I yelled up the stairs. "Hermione, wake up! Hermione!"
"What's wrong, Ron? I'm right here." Her voice came from behind me, and I turned around to find her sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, reading a book. She was looking at me like I had grown an extra head. Despite my nearly desperate need to tell her my feelings, the actual sight of her made me suddenly very nervous.
"Erm...nothing's wrong, Hermione." I crossed the room and sat down beside her. "I just wanted to give you your Christmas present, that's all." I held out the box to her. "Sorry it's not wrapped."
She looked at it suspiciously. "I thought your gift to me was under the tree. It looked like a book."
"That wasn't your real present. This is. Please...take it."
"Okay," she said, still looking at me strangely. She took the small black box and opened it on its hinges. "Oh, Ron," she breathed, seeing what was inside.
It was a ring. I had seen it in a shop during our first Hogsmeade weekend and had immediately known that I wanted to buy it for Hermione. It was a wide band, made with intertwining strands of gold and silver. It was both simple and intricate, both unadorned and beautiful; it was everything that I saw in Hermione. To me, the cost was a small fortune. It took me three months of doing odd jobs (dirty, smelly jobs) for Filch to earn the money to buy it. I had even sold items from Fred and George's joke shop on commission, hoping that Hermione wouldn't catch me.
Now she sat staring at the ring, still in the box, and I was worried to see tears in her eyes. But then again, she had cried when she saw the perfume...
"I saw it in Hogsmeade, and I thought of you. I wanted you to have it. If you don't like it, I can take it back. It's okay." I realized I was babbling, and I shut up.
She continued to stare at the ring for a while longer, then finally looked up at me just as the first tear ran down her cheek. "Ron...what does this mean?"
I took a deep breath and gathered my resolve. I had to do this. "It means," I started, my voice faltering. I cleared my throat and tried again. "It means...I love you, Hermione."
"You love me?" she whispered, looking like she didn't quite believe me. "Really?"
I swallowed hard, nodding. "I'm not nearly good enough for you, I know, but..."
She put her hand on my arm, silencing me. "Don't ever say that. Ever. Don't even think it." She looked back down at the ring and pulled it from the box. I was crushed to see her hold it out to me. I took it, silently cursing myself, and turned away.
"Ron." I turned back toward her. She was holding her hand out, palm down, her fingers extended. "Would you like to put it on me?"
Surprised, I could only nod. I took her hand in my left one, and with my right hand, slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
She studied it for a moment, allowing it to catch the firelight. "It's beautiful," she murmured.
"Like you."
She looked up from the ring to my face, then she suddenly hugged me tightly, hiding her face against my neck. I slid my arms around her waist, still not sure if she was going to tell me she was sorry that she didn't return my feelings or what was going to happen. It didn't matter that the ghosts had shown me how she felt; this was real, and my whole life depended on what Hermione would say in the next few minutes.
She stayed like that for quite a while, her breath tickling my neck. Finally, she sat up and looked at me, her eyes shining. Please...please, I thought. Whatever you do, don't say we can still be friends.
She ran her hand gently down my face, and let one finger trail across my lips. Then she leaned forward and softly kissed me, a lingering kiss which made it hard for me to breathe. She pulled away, looked into my eyes and said the four words I had waited to hear for so long.
"I love you, too."
Four simple, wonderful words that changed my whole life.
Happy Christmas!