Ron glared at Fred. "Yes, I bloody know where to put it, though I'd like to put it right up your arse."

"I don't think your girlfriend would like her corsage very much after that," Fred snorted. "Oh, I'm sorry," he held up his hand in defense as Ron took a step toward him, though his smile stayed firmly in place. "Hermione's not your girlfriend. She's just a girl. Who's a friend."

"That's right. She and Harry are my best mates."

"Which, by definition, means you want to snog Harry as well?"

"What?" Ron turned on George as he walked up behind him. "You're off your nut!"

"Well, you're not taking Harry to the party, it's true, but I'm assuming that, having actually gotten the bollocks up enough to actually ask Hermione on something resembling a date, you're going to go in for a snog."

"I don't think about Hermione like that! And I don't want to snog Harry!"

"Oh, of course not." Fred nodded sagely. "You've just gone and spent half the money you've been saving for your new broom on a flower arrangement for a girl you've got no desire to snog. Makes perfect sense to me."

"Given that he was about to shove said arrangement up your arse, Fred, I don't know that your argument holds water."

"Yeah!" Ron agreed then stopped, looking puzzled. "Wait, what'd I just agree to?"

"You agreed that it's absolutely fruitless for you to pretend, especially to us, master pretenders that we are, that you've no designs on kissing Hermione. Because we know. You can't fool us."

"We're foolproof."

"Can't fool a fool?" Ron asked with a smile. He grabbed the corsage from Fred's hand. "Why're you even here? You left school."

"Couldn't have our littlest brother go face the big, bad world of Valentine's Day dances all by his lonesome. Besides, we have dates of our own."

"Then go bother them."

"Oh, we will. As soon as we see you pin that thing on Hermione."

Ron dragged Hermione out of the Great Hall with an exasperated sigh. She jerked her arm free of his grip and crossed her arms over her chest. "What has gotten into you tonight, Ron?"

"It's the bloody twins, that's what it is." He glared over his shoulder. "They're driving me batty."

"Ignore them."

"Oh, right. Like it's bloody easy to ignore Fred and George."

"I've managed." She dropped her voice. "Of course, I've had someone else on my mind."

"Eh, what?" Ron turned to look at her, his eyes widening rapidly at the sight of her face. "Hermione? What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me. I can tell when something's wrong. Is the pin poking you again? I can pin it again."

"The corsage is fine, Ron." She refused to meet his eyes. "I'm just…I'm not feeling well. Maybe I'll go back to my room."

"But the dance…I can't go back in by myself. I'll never hear the end of it."

"Right." Her face hardened. "Well, perhaps you can just dance with Fred and George since you seem so much more interested in them than you do me!" She whirled around; her angry stomp off stopped as he grabbed her arm, turned her back around and brought her against him. "Let me go, Ron."

He leaned in quickly and kissed her, his lips landing somewhere slightly to the left of her lips. He adjusted, planting small kisses until he could taste her breath - sweet like candy and spicy like cinnamon - and feel her lips - soft like feathers but firm like…like nothing else.

Hermione made a soft sound and Ron pulled back, his eyes concerned. "I'm sorry, I…" he was cut off as she grabbed him, pulling him back for another kiss, taking control as he opened his mouth under the pressure of her tongue.

Ron groaned and wrapped his arms around her, completely, for the moment, unaware of the clapping coming from the crowd gathered in the open doorway, Fred and George at the front.