Hogwarts One Shots

In Love

The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet for a Friday evening. Most students had either gone to bed or were busy with last-minute homework before the weekend, leaving the large, crackling fireplace as the only source of warmth and light in the room. Hermione Granger sat on one of the old, comfortable couches, a thick book spread across her lap, though she had been staring at the same page for nearly ten minutes.

Across from her, Ron Weasley was lounging in one of the armchairs, a chessboard on the table in front of him. His fingers absentmindedly moved one of the pawns, his eyes occasionally flickering to Hermione, who hadn't looked up once. There was a strange tension between them, one that had been building for months-years, even-though neither of them had been able to admit it. Not out loud.

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. "You've been on that page for a while," he commented, trying to sound casual. "Book that boring, is it?"

Hermione blinked, startled, and looked up at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh-no, I just...got distracted, I suppose."

Ron smirked, though there was a nervousness to it, something uncertain. "Distracted? By what? Surely not me, Granger."

Her heart did an odd little flip at the way he said her name, but she quickly brushed it off, closing the book with a snap. "Hardly, Weasley," she shot back, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness. "I was just thinking."

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head, clearly trying to look casual. "Thinking about what?"

Hermione hesitated, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her book. What had she been thinking about? It certainly hadn't been Arithmancy or Transfiguration, despite her best efforts. The truth was, her thoughts had been a muddled mess of Ron-the way he'd laughed earlier at dinner, the way he'd leaned over to make some silly joke during Herbology, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about Quidditch.

She swallowed hard, her heart thudding painfully in her chest. It had been this way for a while now. Every glance, every conversation with him seemed to matter more than it should. She didn't know how to make sense of it.

"Just...things," she said finally, her voice soft.

"Right," Ron muttered, looking away, a frown tugging at his lips. "Course. Things."

There was a long silence. The fire crackled in the hearth, and somewhere in the background, the portrait of the Fat Lady let out a snore. Hermione's pulse quickened, and she could feel the weight of the unspoken words pressing down on them both.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing at him. His face was cast in soft shadows from the firelight, his freckles standing out against his pale skin. For a moment, she allowed herself to really look at him-at the boy who had become her best friend, the one who had stood by her side through danger and fear, through countless arguments and reconciliations. The one who, despite everything, had somehow worked his way into her heart in ways she hadn't expected.

"Ron," she said quietly, her voice trembling just a little.

He looked up at her, something in his expression softening. "Yeah?"

"I've been thinking about...us," she admitted, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she wondered if he could hear it.

He froze. The casual air he had been trying to maintain shattered in an instant, his blue eyes wide, searching her face. "Us?"

Hermione nodded, suddenly feeling exposed. She wasn't one to stumble over her words, but right now, they felt impossibly difficult to find. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks, but she pressed on, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

"I mean...we've been through so much together, haven't we? And I-I just feel like there's something...more. Something we haven't really talked about."

Ron blinked at her, and for a moment, she thought maybe she had completely misread everything. Maybe he didn't feel the same, maybe this was all in her head, and she had just ruined everything-

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered under his breath, his face flushing a deep red. He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking down at the chessboard in front of him as though it might offer some kind of answer.

Hermione's stomach twisted painfully. She opened her mouth to take it back, to say it didn't matter, but before she could, Ron spoke again, his voice low and rough.

"I've been thinking about us too," he admitted, his gaze still fixed on the chess pieces. "For a while now, actually. I just-I didn't know how to...how to say it."

Hermione's heart stopped. "What?" she whispered, hardly daring to believe what she had just heard.

Ron let out a breath, his eyes finally lifting to meet hers. There was something raw and vulnerable in his expression, a side of him she rarely saw. "I don't know when it happened, really. Maybe during third year, or maybe it was always there, but...I reckon I'm in love with you, Hermione."

The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Hermione couldn't move, couldn't speak. She felt like the ground had shifted beneath her, like she was standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying and wonderful all at once.

And then, slowly, she let out a shaky breath, her lips curving into a smile.

"I reckon I'm in love with you too," she whispered, the confession coming as naturally as breathing.

Ron's eyes widened in surprise, and then, before either of them could say another word, he was standing, crossing the short distance between them in two long strides. He pulled her to her feet, his hands gripping her arms, and for a moment they just stood there, staring at each other, hearts racing, breaths mingling in the space between them.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn't perfect-it was a little clumsy, and their noses bumped awkwardly at first-but none of that mattered. The moment his lips touched hers, everything else fell away. Hermione's hands found their way to his chest, curling into his jumper as she kissed him back, her heart swelling with something so warm and bright it almost hurt.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Ron was grinning, his eyes shining with disbelief and joy.

"Finally," he muttered, his voice full of wonder, as if he still couldn't quite believe this was happening.

Hermione laughed, a soft, breathless sound, and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. "Yes," she agreed, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Finally."