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Saturday, 5:30pm. Gryffindor common room.
“Look, I don’t see why you just had to get detention on the day of our Hogsmeade outing!” Hermione chastised.
Ron cowered with a scowl, leaning his back further into the worn plush sofa. “You don’t have to stay, you know! You chose to.”
“Yes, Ronald, I am quite aware of my decisions. Besides, Harry has a date with Ginny, so I’m not sure just me there would be suitable.”
“Ugh. Him and my sister makes me feel physically repulsed.” Ron grimaced as if he’d just sucked on a very sour sweet. “Disgusting.”
“Really, Ron? I thought you’d be over that by now!”
“Absolutely not! She’s my little sister.”
“And he’s your best friend! You know how much they like each other! It’s wonders that they’ve finally set a date for seeing each other.” Hermione scolded, setting her parchment down on her lap.
She and Ron were sitting together on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room, tightly bundled with blankets, quills and parchment. Ink was strategically placed on the wooden coffee table in front of them.
That day was Saturday, the time of the month where the sixth years were allowed to go and visit Hogsmeade village to do some shopping, or simply hanging out with friends- or ‘friends’, in Harry and Ginny’s case.
Ron however, decided it would be a fantastic idea to try out a new spell in the corridors, and for it to completely backfire and result in one of the big stained glass windows to be smashed. He couldn’t even run away, as Peeves felt the need to tattle to Professor Mcgonagall.
That woman was not impressed. At all. She reprimanded him, then gave him the punishment of missing out on the Hogsmeade trip. The worst punishment, in Ron’s opinion.
As for Hermione, when Ron joined her and Harry for lunch that day, seeing him crestfallen at the fact that not only was he missing the chance of stocking up on sweets from Honeydukes, but he was also going to be very much alone, whilst everyone else was having a marvellous time, made her rethink he decision of going.
“If you’re going with Ginny,” she said to Harry. “I’ll stay here with Ron?”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows before shrugging. “Sure, can’t let him being all alone- poor Ronnikins!”
“Shove off, mate.” Ron grumbled, but he seemed significantly happier that Hermione was going to stay.
So later on, they both sat there doing their individual homework, Ron occasionally making a comment here and there about how much he hates school, or asking Hermione a question that bordered the line between silly, and downright idiotic.
They had sat there in silence for almost an hour, when Ron suddenly said: “Hermione?”
She looked up at the sound of her name, glanced at Ron, immediately captivated by his bright blue eyes, and how they shone when he looked at her.
She smiled and waited for him to continue.
“I’m bored.” He said. She rolled her eyes.
“Ron, you’re always bored.” She replied drowsily.
“Well, yeah, but I’m especially bored now.” He sighed loudly, moving to turn to Hermione on the sofa and mirror her position, instead he stretched his long legs out in front of him, so that his maroon flurry socks were situated next to Hermione’s hips.
“Well then, what would you like to do?” She asked curiously. Ron shrugged.
“Anything but homework is fine by me.”
And idea sparked her mind.
No.
No! Surely not…
But the idea seemed to push its way through all the other ones shouting nononononono!!
And before she knew it and could stop it, the words came falling out her mouth. “Have you ever kissed anyone.” She managed to get out.
Ron looked positively aghast. He stared at her with eyes as wide as saucers. He pointed at himself accusingly. “Me?” He laughed, a mocking laugh. “Me? You think I’ve been kissed, Mione?”
Hermione shrugged. “I don’t know, that’s why I asked.”
“Wow.” Ron chuckled to himself at a self involved joke he’d obviously made. “No, Miss Hermione Granger, I have not kissed anyone before.”
“Okay.” Hermione replied quickly, blushing a furious red, and turning her head backwards to hide it from the laughing Ron.
”Well then?” Ron continued, eying her with a sort of expectancy.
“Well what?”
Ron looked nervous, almost, as he fiddled with the tip of his parchment and pulled at the loose strings of his knitted jumper. “Have you ever kissed anyone?”
Hermione backtracked. Surely her face was giving away her face of bewilderment. “I-um, no.” She ended up saying. She wasn’t sure if a kiss on the cheek from Viktor Krum would be a suitable answer.
Especially when Ron hated his guts.
“No, I haven’t.” She finished, looking at Ron wearily. He was already staring at her, a passing glimpse of an idea forming in his mind. He seemed more focussed now than ever, even in class.
“Would… you want to?” He asked, a certain curiosity seeping through his eyes. He suddenly realised what he’d said, and the tips of his ears burned a bright red, heat almost arising into the common room air. “I- uh, don’t mean, us! I only mean- practice?!”
Hermione startled, her eyes having bulged a couple centimetres outwards after his previous question. She placed all her work off of her lap and onto the sofa, and felt herself tipping slightly towards her best friend.
“Practice?” She repeated, eyes trained onto his, brown into blue. He looked disconnected from the earth at that point.
He stared at Hermione in front of him, fingers slightly grazing her knee from the studying position they were previously in. “Uh- yeah, practice.” He finalised, kicking himself mentally for getting himself into a mess like this.
“Okay.” Hermione said, and this time it was Ron’s turn to gape. She leant closer, her knee actually touching his now. She smelt nice, not in a weird way, but nice.
Ron was freaking out.
Never, once in his many years of knowing Hermione had he ever been in such short proximity to her than in that very moment. Her small hands were crowded next to his on the sofa, and he leaned slightly forwards.
Their faces were gradually getting closer. He was scared, didn’t know what the bloody hell she was thinking. At all.
What do girls think of? That was the only question that had managed to pierce through Ron’s brain at that moment.
He quickly managed to shut his eyes, before soft lips collided onto his, and his whole bodily state turned into molten rock.
Hermione Granger, was kissing Ron Weasley.
How, you ask?
Through sheer dumb luck.
They kept kissing, Ron slowly brought his hand up from where it was lying dead on the sofa, and splayed it across the back of her head, his fingers in her hair. Both her hands went to cup his face, fingers grazing his jaw.
Hermione leant forwards slightly, deepening whatever the teenagers would have liked to call it, and she turned her head slightly so that they were better connected.
Wow, they were good at the practice part, weren’t they?
Ron sighed lightly, and brought her head even closer to his than before with a gentle push of his hand, and Hermione’s arms snaked around Ron’s neck before he could process anything and practically deepened the kiss.
So, in more basic understandable terms, they were completely and utterly, snogging.
By now, they were gripping each other so hard, that Ron thought against giving Hermione skull damage, and instead his hands pulled her in by her waist. She happily obliged, and it felt like hours before they were thrown apart by the massive gust of two gasps from the common room entrance hole.
With a splutter, Hermione had rolled away from Ron on the sofa, and Ron, so in a daze that his sister and best friend were gaping at the two of them, he fell of the sofa and onto the wooden floor.
He let out a defeated groan, and finally listened to Harry’s jabbers.
“Oh right, so I’m not allowed to snog Ginny, but you’re allowed to snog Hermione?!”
From the floor, Ron protested with one hand up in the air.
”It’s not the same thing!”
“It’s not?” Came Hermione’s teasing voice from the sofa.
“We were just practicing!” Ron defended. He was the only one.
”What, for your wedding day?” Ginny mocked, and even Hermione laughed.
“Bloody hell, not a moments peace.” Ron grumbled into the floorboards.
“It’s okay, Ron.” Said Hermione, cautiously crouching down beside him, and pressing a small kiss into his messy red hair, with such a gentleness, that Ron half considered jumping up and kissing her again. “See you at dinner.”
And she stalked away with Harry, and Ginny, leaving him sulking on the floor.
Of course he was only angry because he wanted to keep on ‘practicing’, but nobody needed to know that.
He’d take it to his grave.
Ron Weasley was a certified Hermione Granger kisser.
And bloody hell did he like the title.