Chapter Text
The way you move is like a full on rainstorm
And I'm a house of cards
You're the kind of reckless that should send me running
But I kinda know that I won't get far
“‘Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!’”
Hermione brushes past Ron, heat rising in her cheeks and tears stinging her eyes. She only makes it a couple of steps before he grabs her by the arm and pulls her back. The room is starkly empty all of a sudden.
“Let me go, Ron,” she warns, but he doesn’t.
“You weren’t a last resort.” The words are barely audible. She wouldn’t have believed he actually spoke if she hadn’t seen his lips move.
“Oh, really?” She yanks her arm out of his grasp and steps forward so that they’re nose to nose again. “So, what? You just needed to ensure I was, in fact, a girl first?”
“I’m well aware you’re a girl,” he responds through gritted teeth.
At that exact moment his eyes drift down, settling on the tiny bit of cleavage heaving up and down from her breathing before snapping back up to her face. Flattered as Hermione is, her nostrils flare and her cheeks flush with anger. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“What? No, I—” His ears are scarlet now and he steps back to shed the outer layer of his robes. “C’mon, Hermione. Trust me, I noticed.”
“Yes, well, don’t seem so shocked. I’m fully capable of wearing form-fitting clothes or undoing an extra button on my shirt. I just choose not to.”
“Why?” Ron’s eyes widen slightly, giving away that he didn’t mean to ask the question out loud.
Hermione sighs. “Because I’ll never be as desirable as Fleur or Lavender, so why bother trying?”
She’s not sure where the honesty comes from. It must be all the Butterbeer she’s had tonight that’s finally catching up to her.
“You’re clearly desirable. Viktor fucking Krum took you to the Yule Ball.”
“If only he were the one I wanted to go with,” she admits in a whisper.
Ron scoffs. “Yeah, right. Sure didn’t look like that in the Great Hall.”
“I’m not saying I had a horrible time,” Hermione snaps. “It’s just—”
“Just what?”
I'm on my guard for the rest of the world
But with you, I know it's no good
She shudders, but doesn’t know if she can tell Ron. Sure, he’s her best friend, but admitting this would be a step too far. But he gives her that look and her heart melts a little more before the words come tumbling out.
“I was having a good time until the end of the night. He tried to kiss me and I—I turned away.”
Ron balls his fists at his side. “He what?”
“No, no! He tried, but he didn’t. Being his date to the ball was one thing, but—I don’t know, I just couldn’t…he’s not who I wanted to share a first kiss with.”
Silence hangs thick and clouds the space between them until Ron finally speaks. His hands are no longer clenched and his jaw is more relaxed.
“You’ve thought about who you want to share a first kiss with?”
Hermione lets out a derisive laugh. “Of course I have! I am fifteen, you know. Even if I don’t always act like it…I would like the experience of kissing a boy at some point.”
“But you didn’t kiss Viktor.”
“I did not.”
“So who then?”
“I can’t say.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Can’t.” Her lip turns up into the slightest smirk, and perhaps it’s still the Butterbeer coursing through her veins, but she’s pretty sure the proximity to Ron is getting to her. That’s the reason she’s brave enough to say, “Rumor has it, he thinks I’m a nightmare.”
Their fingers brush and she hears a slight hitch in his throat and—did he just move closer? She’s so busy contemplating it that she almost misses his lips brush hers. It may not be a true kiss, but it’s pure heaven. Hermione closes her eyes and sparks fly, but before she can bask in the moment, it’s already gone.
“He definitely doesn’t.”
They remain frozen like that for a beat, and Hermione wishes he’d move back in and truly kiss her this time. Now that she’s had the smallest taste, she wants more.
But Ron pulls away instead. Running a hand through his hair, he grabs the discarded robe and backs toward the boys’ staircase. Hermione is left reeling in the common room, frozen in place as she watches him leave. She leans on the back of the sofa for support, almost missing when Ron flashes a lopsided grin at her before disappearing up the staircase, and she’s left wondering if all of this is real.
Regardless of whether it did or didn’t, the question still remains: Now what?
Gimme something that'll haunt me when you're not around
'Cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile