A/N: Requested by Nitrogirl, who wondered how it would've turned out if Ron and Hermione went to the ball together.

Me no ownie HP!

Warning: Incredible randomness.

Beware of the peas

Ron and Harry waited side by side for their dates. At the foot of the stairs, both sporting equally nervous expressions, Harry's only made a smidge more because he was fidgeting with his sleeve.

Ron was so utterly relieved that Hermione had agreed to go to the Yule Ball with him; otherwise he'd be left dry. The only boy in their dorm without a date. Even Neville had a bloody date!

Ron quickly reminded himself that it was his sister and that he'd skin Neville alive if…

Calming thought, Ron, calming thoughts…

Then Hermione showed up, smiling dazzlingly.

No, Ron, not clamming thoughts! Ron screamed to himself whilst hastily trying to wipe his hands on his dress robes.

She was beautiful. Her hair sleeked, pink frilly dress… butterflies were currently playing Quidditch in his stomach. He hoped one of them would find them would find the snitch, and soon, otherwise those pretty little butterflies would pretty up her dress. Note the sarcasm.

Wait, did Ron just use sarcasm? That was new. He grinned to himself, temporarily forgetting Hermione and her pretty dress, in the shoes, with her hair, and allowed himself a moment to be amazed by his show of wit.

"Ron?" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. Ron shook his head and looked at her.

"Wow, Hermione, you look…"

"Like a girl, I know." She scowled. "Just… let's go in." She was annoyed. Why was she irate now? What had he done? She'd been smiling radiantly only a second ago! Ron was suddenly immensely glad that he wasn't female. It seemed all they did was change moods as quickly as Seamus could set fire to, well, anything. That was why Ron made sure to never pair up with him.

He followed her into the hall, taking a seat next to her. He couldn't take his eyes off her, an action she now noticed. She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes again and motioned to the now-entering champions. Cedric, with Cho, Fleur, with Roger, Harry, with Parvati, and Krum with… Luna Lovegood? Wasn't she a year younger than them? And about five younger than Krum?

He didn't care. It wasn't Hermione or Ginny, so he was fine.

Then Dumbledore showed them how to order food… Ron picked up the menu quickly and scanned the list. He wanted all of it!

"One dish, Ron." Hermione's voice pierced the air. He looked at her, finding a glare there, but her lips were slightly tilted – one move and she would start to laugh. He pushed the menu into her hands.

"Order for me, then." He grinned, winking. He didn't miss the feint blush creep up her cheeks. She chose the same dish for them both – lamb chops with mash and peas. Ron grimaced, he didn't like peas. They were evil little green balls and he was certain the pea-people would make themselves known any day, and then announce that they would all be forced into crossbreeding with mustard or something to create mustard-humans (mustrahms) that would spray them all with cheese…

He looked for a napkin to put it in, but Hermione was watching him with an eagle eye. He winced and picked up his fork, poking one pea and bringing it to his lips. His lips quivered, he really didn't want to taste the pea. Hermione's eyes narrowed. He sat down his fork. He refused to eat the peas.

Finally, after fifteen minutes of her begging him to eat one measly pea, she sighed picked up his fork, pricked the pea and shoved it into his mouth. Ron spit it out, and it landed on the next table. The person wasn't paying attention, and the pea fell neatly into his own tiny heap.

Ron and Hermione stared at the pea that was covered in Ron's saliva. What were they going to do now?

The person absentmindedly picked it up and put it in his mouth.

Both were disgusted, but they remained silent. You see, the person that ate Ron's pea was none other than their best friend's foe, the pureblood crazy and handsomely rich Draco Malfoy.

They looked at each other.

"I promise to eat more peas if I get to do that again." Ron grinned. Hermione laughed.

"Rather not, he'd just threaten us with: "My father will hear about this!""

Both teens snorted with laughter, causing their dinner companions to share worried glances.

Ron didn't even ask Hermione, he just pulled her with him to the dance floor, which had now been opened.

Ron couldn't dance at all. He kept stepping on Hermione's toes; he once even stepped on her dress, which was the final draw for her!

"Stop, stop, stop! I want to be dressed at the end of this!"

The thought made him blush.

They decided to take a walk out in the courtyard. They stopped near a fountain, where Hermione was determined to teach him how to dance properly.

That didn't go well, because he stepped on her dress again… and, as luck should have it, she tumbled into the fountain.

She tried to lug herself out, wet, toes blue – and not from the cold, her make-up running… Ron attempted to help, but that only resulted in Ron falling into the fountain. It didn't have anything to do with Hermione pulling him in. At all.

The two teens stood in the fountain, allowing the water to rain down on the, both having figured that this, could it be called a date? – was now officially ruined.

Later that night Harry found them, telling them an amusing story of Malfoy hopping around the Great Hall, pretending to be a frog.

"It was something in the peas – Fred and George confessed they'd spelled a plate of peas. But they could've sworn it was yours, Ron…"

"I told you!' Ron yelled.