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A/N: I don't have a beta to read this so if for any mistakes, let me know and I'll fix them. Thank you.
Prefect duty
Ronald Wesley would never admit it. Not to his parents, whom would rejoice at the admission, not to Fred and George whom would rip the mickey out of him for it, not to his prat of a brother Percy who would smart at his youngest brother following in his footsteps, nor would he ever confess it to his closest friends Harry and Hermione. This new and unexpected responsibility that had come swooping into his life from an school barn owl was Ron's greatest achievement and he was extremely glad of it.
His pride mingled with twinges of shame whenever he let himself dwell on it for too long. He couldn't help it though, he was elated he, Ronald Wesley, had been picked over his extremely more visible best friend, Harry for Gryffindor Prefect. Ron was Harry's best friend and Harry had endeared himself to Ron on their first ever trip on the Hogwart's express. Harry had commiserated with him on the whoas having all of your worldly possessions being someone else's cast offs, shared with him treats and laughs like none of his brother's ever had and stuck with Ron instead of Malfoy at their first confrontation.
What Ron didn't like was "Harry Potter – The boy who lived" The famous persona that Harry himself didn't even seem too keen on. But like it or not, Harry Potter was the most famous teenager in the wizarding world and being best friend to that had been exceptionally difficult at times.
But there were two reasons for him enjoying prefect duties. The other was that every 4th evening he would spend 3 solid, blissful and uninterrupted hours patrolling the corridors, alone with Hermione. No matter how much homework he had or how much they had bickered that day, he would get to spend the night wandering dimly lit corridors with her.
Tonight was such a night, and despite being 10 minutes early to their designated meeting spot, the two chairs closest to the portrait hole, when he reached the bottom landing from the boys dormitory he could see her sitting in one of them. Her face lit up when she saw him causing his heart to skip a beat or two. He'd seen her only a few hours ago, but she looked different now then when he'd left her studying in the library. For once her nose wasn't buried in a book but also her curls seemed more collected, less frizzy and her lips had a distinct shimmer to them.
He wordless crossed the common room and as he did she got to her feet. They said nothing for a moment, he contented to just admire the affect these changed had on her appearance. Then he felt a flush creep into his ears as he wondered how they must look to the other Gryffindor's sitting in the common room.
"Best be off then." Ron said, slightly embarrassed at the excitement he felt over doing his Prefect duties. Hermione nodded in agreement and directed herself toward the portrait hole. Ron stepped quickly in front of her and pushed the back of the fat ladies portrait open, allowing her to walk in front of him as she did so the faint smell of strawberries wafted teasingly over his senses. This was not something they did as they headed down to the great hall in the mornings or when they headed into class. Prefect duties were different though, it just felt right.
Hermione's didn't say anything until they left the corridor with the entrance to the common room. This too was tradition, it seemed they had to leave their fellow Gryffindor's behind before they could both make the transformation into who they allowed themselves to be when they were alone together.
It always amused Ron to see the changes wrought over Hermione. In those few steps she stopped being book laden and bossy. She would morph into her alter ego, who was considerably more relaxed. A smiled always seemed to be playing on her lips and when she spoke it was not of school or homework.
He'd gotten to know more about her in their private meanderings then in the 4 previous years combined. She spoke of her parents and her friends back home. Growing up muggle born and what a shock it had been when Professor McGonagall had shown up at her house and explained to her and her parents that Hermione was a witch.
In turn Ron felt free to share things with her that had never come up in conversation before. About when he had been really sick and couldn't go to visit the muggle circus for his dad's birthday. How when he was 7 he asked his mom why he didn't have a twin too, and that he'd always been slightly jealous of the friendship that Fred and George had.
"It's like they had "insta-friend", It was always such an ordeal for me to get together with a friend but they always just had each other, right there ya know. No work involved." Ron lamented as they passed a familiar suit of armor with bright pink plumage coming out of the top.
"You had Ginny though, she's told me some wonderful stories about the two of you growing up." Hermione seemed to go red slightly as she said this, perhaps, Ron mused hopefully to himself, it's because she'd just admitted that she'd talked about him with his younger sister.
"Yeah, and no offense to Ginny, we gave those two a run for their galleons more then a few times. There's just something they always seemed to have that we didn't, I mean you've seen the two of them together."
"Yes, I think the term 'thick as thieves' would seem more than appropriate for those two." There was a comfortable silence between the two for a moment. The only sound was their foot falls landing on the hard floor beneath.
A loud crash reverberated around them and without thinking Ron protectively wrapped his right arm around Hermione's waist and flung them both into a nook in the wall using his body as a shield from whatever caused such a loud noise. Peeves voice rang out loudly singing an indistinguishable song off in the distance and Ron knew he'd over reacted.
He didn't move though. It took him a moment to evaluate the position they were now in. Ron's body was pressing hers against the wall. The arm he'd grabbed her with was still wrapped protectively around her. She had been shielding her face with her right arm and as the noise died away she let it fall slightly, her hand coming to rest upon his shoulder. His heart thundered loudly in his chest as he looked down into Hermione's chocolate colored eyes. She was gazing up at him with an expectant look upon her face and it suddenly occurred to Ron she might be waiting for something. His stomach churned with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He moved his lips slowly but then froze suddenly. What if he was just projecting his feelings onto her? If he kissed her and she hadn't wanted it. Could he deal with that?
His mind raced, jumping from one scenario to the next. What if her lips started kissing back? What if instead her hand collided painfully against his cheek? A wave of humiliation came over him as his imagination presented him with the image of Hermione laughing with Ginny in a dormitory, talking loudly about Ron being a bad kisser.
Ron rested his forehead against Hermione's forehead, he closed his eye's hoping to steady himself. His mind slowly pulled forth all the things that had led him to this, to her, to believing that there was some shred of hope that she could feel the same way about him. He could see her tear stained face screaming at him after the Yule ball, saying that he knew what to do next time. Then he remembered sitting in the library alone at a table studying and when their hands touched they lingered together for just a moment longer than needed, a blush crept into her porcelain skin. Laughing late at night alone together in his room at number 12 Grimmauld Place that very summer.
He filled his lungs slowly, hoping it would calm his shaking. It worked, as the cool air rushed into him. Ron made his decision. He lifted Hermione's weight into him slightly with the arm that still wrapped around her. He pulled her toward him. As he did he heard a short intake of breath from Hermione, this small sign from her propelled his mind forward, 'keep going' he told himself. He ran his free hand into her the soft hairs curling at the nape of her neck. Ron forced himself to take another long slow breath. He moved forward as he let the breath go, the tip of her nose was cold against his skin.
All Ron could hear was his heart pounding out of control in his chest as he inched closer to her, he could feel warm breath escaping her slightly opened mouth in short bursts upon his lips. He waited, stopping less than a centimeter above her lips. His mind wondered what the stuff on her lips would taste like as they kissed. He breathed in deeply again, taking in the scent of her, strawberries and perhaps a little bit like parchment, could he be imagining that or perhaps he just associate the smell of Hermione to parchment.
He waited, in agony at how close he'd come without her moving into him. 'Please Hermione,' He pleaded with her silently. 'PLEASE. Just, kiss me back. I'm right here. I've gone this far. I just can't do this alone. It would be too much to know it was all my fault if I lost you.' He thought for a moment she had moved into him, perhaps she'd pushed onto her toes slightly, but he wasn't sure. All he needed was a sign that he wasn't alone in this. That she wanted this even half as much as he wanted her.
She just stood there, silent and unmoving in his arms. He heard Peeves in the distance being scolded by the bloody baron and knew that the moment was passing quickly. How much longer could he just hold her like this and still walk away free from humiliation. She must already know how much he wanted her, and yet she was motionless, giving him no indication that this was what she wanted.
The picture of Hermione laughing maliciously with Ginny came rushing back to him like a dose of cold water and he quickly released his hold of her. He opened his eyes as he moved backward and watched her closely. Hermione's eyes were still closed and as he moved away her weight landed against the wall behind her, she seemed to seek into the wall itself for a moment. He couldn't decipher the look on her face, was it disappointment or relief. Her eyes were still closed as she turned her face away from him.
Anguish flooded over him as he looked down the dark corridor they were standing in. He couldn't remember a time where his heart ached quite so much. Before it had always been a hope, a wistful fantasy he replayed in a thousand different ways in his mind before going to bed at night. It was over now, that particular dream was crushed. She had done nothing, she had not wanted him. He was once again just the friend in the shadow. Looked over and not seen. Ron painfully wondered if he would always be a side kick and never quite the hero.
He chanced a glance back at Hermione and she was wiping her eye with the cuff of her sleeve. Was the prospect of kissing him that bad? She was now actually shedding tears of relief at not having to endure his lips upon her. He looked away quickly trying to fight back to feeling to walk away without her. Run to where she wasn't so he could escape, to just be alone with the pain of his lonely and unrequited love. He fought the urge knowing it would be even more humiliating to run away from her now. That would be acknowledging what had just happened, or not happened. For the sake of plausible deny ability he stood rooted to where he was.
"Shall we check the fifth floor corridors and just head back?" Hearing his own voice Ron noticed there was a huskiness in it that usually wasn't there. He tried to swallow and found it difficult.
"Yeah, I think that'll be fine." Hermione's voice was airy and higher then usual. They walked silently toward the fifth floor corridor neither of them looking at the other.