Title: Stolen Kiss
Pairing/Character: Hermione and Percy, but really Hermione/Ron
Rating: G
Wordcount: 943
Summary: It's Christmas Day at The Burrow, Hermione's mind is working overtime
Author's Notes: For the weekly challenge - A "Stolen" Kiss - at books_freckles and another exercise in writing Hermione. Thank you manynames for straightening my oddly worded clauses too!



Stolen Kiss

Being with the Weasleys for Christmas was something Hermione had yearned to do for the previous three, or four, or even more years. Back in the sixth year she’d gathered the courage to mention the idea to her parents and then lost it again just as she opened her mouth. What sort of daughter, only daughter at that, suggested to her parents she’d rather be somewhere else at Christmastime after all?

Staying at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays the times she had done that was a little bit different. Both of her parents had studied, undertaken long and hard degrees to become dentists, they understood about putting in the study hours to succeed the way Hermione had done so far in so many subjects.

This year was a little bit different though, it had worked out rather well really. When she received a quite excited sounding letter from her mother explaining about a Scandinavian cruise to celebrate a special anniversary and that the only way they could both be away for long enough was to go over Christmas and the new year, Hermione had written back, saying to book it straight away. She, Harry, and Ron could well be busy. It was impossible to plan when, how or where their time was going to be spent. They had to go where the horcruxes took them.

Christmas lunch had been delicious. They’d all helped Molly prepare the food, dress the room and the tree and drink the bottles of Snidberry wine that Arthur had brought home from the Ministry. Now, with everyone feeling rather warm inside, it was nice to be curled up quite sleepily on the sofa, her feet drawn up beside her and her head resting lightly on the shoulder beside hers.

From the corner of her eye Hermione could just see a shock of familiar coloured hair. A smile crossed her face as she realised that wherever she looked she could see such a coloured head. With one exception, that of Harry, and he was partly hidden by Ginny anyway. In a daydreamy state Hermione let her thoughts slip back and remembered the time on the river bank that Ron had first kissed her, the time a whole two weeks later when they’d done so again. Since then there had been little time for what might be termed romance, but logically she knew she could wait. With a sleepy smile she considered she’d have to wait. There were more important things to be achieved first.

But. There was a but here. Hermione was unaware of the small sigh she let out at the thought. For too long she’d been exasperated at Lavender and the other girls in the dormitory and their whispered giggling at night. She’d asked herself over and over why they’d allowed themselves to be in the positions where they’d had to say no over and over. Seamus, she’d heard, was quite persistent and kept going on and on until Lavender had allowed him to slip his hand under her top and touch her bra. Just the once, he only wanted to do it the once. Parvati had led the apparently shocked chorus later when the announcement was made that the deed was done, and now he was hoping for something a little bit more again. Hermione had never had to say no to anyone in that way. That Ron was a perfect gentlemen towards her wasn’t something to be disappointed about, she chastised herself. It was something to be proud of. With another sigh, Hermione gently moved her head from Ron’s shoulder and stood up to make her way towards the bathroom. Perhaps if she splashed some very cold water over herself she’d see sense.

“Hermione.”

She turned towards the soft voice which greeted her as she made her way back, a little more awake now.

“Hello.” It was hard not to smile.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” and of course it was fine, she was just being a silly girl. Nothing more.

“You looked … oh I don’t know … disappointed before.”

“Did I?”

“And you sighed. Twice.”

Hermione looked up. She had. Stupid sighs that didn’t really mean anything, they were just the reactions of that silly girl who’d just had a perfect day and didn’t know when she was well off.

“It was nothing, really. Just post Christmas meal thoughts, clouded by the excellent wine and company.”

He nodded, “Glass of water?”

“Thank you.”

She moved and leaned back against the end of the table, watching intently as two glasses were summoned and each, with meticulous care, filled to within an inch of the top with the clear cold water before he turned to face her.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?” She held out her hand for the glass, which floated past her with its twin and landed softly on the table, his hand reaching out for hers instead.

“The mistletoe. May I?”

They both looked up together and sure enough there it was, hovering above them and dipping slightly as if to say Look at me, I’m here … I’m here ….

“Of course.”

It was a gentle kiss, longer than she’d imagined it would be. His lips were soft, and his hands strong on her shoulder and back. Almost, for a fraction of a second she’d thought one of them was going to slip up into her hair, something that she’d love when eventually Ron did it, and she’d known she’d have to have said no. Percy was another perfect gentleman, it seemed. With a small squeeze as they parted, Hermione thanked him. From that one stolen kiss she knew she’d never again regret not having to say no.