Happy Valentine's Day, my Romione lovers! I went skiing over the weekend and this little Muggle AU meet-cute popped into my head. Hope you enjoy ❤
Spontaneous
Spontaneous has never been a word used to define Hermione Granger.
She likes structure, she likes order, and she doesn't often stray from rules and plans. But when her boss challenged her to try something new over the weekend and return to work the following Monday morning with a detailed account of her adventure in hand, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity, no matter how much she desired nothing more than to curl up at home with a book and her cat, Crookshanks, in her lap.
It’s only a little bit disgruntling that it’s the weekend of Valentine’s Day, and her boss assumed that she didn’t have any other plans.
So many tame activities exist that she could have chosen for her task; cooking classes, scrapbooking, even going for a run as opposed to her usual brisk walk. But for some reason, she decides to try to fuel the rush of adrenaline she’s never had.
The reality of her spontaneous decision-making falls upon her as she’s carried by a rickety bench hanging from only a thin cable, leaving her with way too much time to dwell in her thoughts while ascending the chair lift.
Hermione trains her eyes to not look down, and instead focus on the clouds of white covering the evergreen mountains surrounding her. Her gaze can’t help but travel to the snowboarders and skiers down below, gliding upon the powder and burning their way down the hills with such speed she wonders if they all must be professionals.
Surely she’s not the only amateur skier here, right?
She adjusts her helmet and fits her goggles to her face as the lift approaches its final destination, and she barely manages to slide off of the bench and onto the snowy hilltop without falling flat on her face. Hermione breathes out a lengthy sigh, mentally cheering for herself she’s made it this far.
Another realization soon hits her. It’s too late for any second thoughts, as there is nowhere to go but down. She squints through the freshly falling snow, relieved to find her destination still visible, but the route there looks daunting.
Hermione recounts in her head she’s challenged herself to make new choices about her life—or rather, her boss did—but she agrees she needs to expand outside of her comfort zone.
She can do this. She can do anything she sets her mind to.
Looking around at the growing crowd of people joining her from the chair lift, she’s comforted by the fact she’s not the only apprehensive-looking skier awaiting her turn. But many of those skiers are accompanied by their significant others, a fact only serving as another rude awakening of the holiday weekend.
The trail she plans to take is freeing up, and Hermione approaches the edge with her skis clicked in. Her fingers are so cold that she can hardly maintain a proper grip on her poles, despite wearing thick gloves.
Before she can move another muscle, two men whisk past her sharing mutual loud yelps, both intent on racing each other down the mountain, leaving flurries of snow behind their skis. Hermione watches them for a few terrorizing seconds as their bright red hair swishes underneath their helmets until they’re no longer visible in her immediate eyesight.
“Okay, Hermione. Just relax.” She mumbles under her breath, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them.
The bitter sting of ice hits her face as she leans forward, reviewing the mental list of instructions she was given on how to stop herself when needed.
Parallel turn. Pizza. Parallel turn. Pizza.
The snow feels as slippery as a snake as she begins to descend the hill. Her hope of moving at a leisurely pace to the bottom is quickly thwarted as an ambitious one. She’s gaining speed too fast and her thighs are already burning as she tries to remember how to slow down.
Time stops despite her body still moving, and for a moment she wonders how on Earth she’ll survive this. Hermione’s heart pounds in her chest as she makes the decision to turn her skis, but the turn either comes too quickly or it’s too late. All she remembers is falling backward until she lands hard on her bottom, rolling a few paces until she comes to a resting point with her face flat in the pillowy snow.
She groans, regretting every single choice she's made thus far at the ski resort.
Hermione Granger, you are too ambitious for your own good.
A faint voice calls out to her.
“Are you okay?”
With her face still buried in snow, she doesn’t respond.
“Are you okay?”
The voice is closer this time, and Hermione hears a solid whoosh from her left side and a new pair of skis enter her view.
A body kneels down next to her. “Are you hurt?”
The man’s voice is sharper, clearer, and he sounds almost a bit frustrated that she’s not answering him. She tries to bring herself to nod so he doesn’t think she’s, well, dead.
When Hermione finds the courage to lift her head, she’s startled by the deep blue of the man’s eyes boring into hers.
“That was a nasty fall you just took. Do you need some help getting up?”
So many questions he’s throwing at her, and all that manages to come out of her mouth is, “Hi.”
A lopsided grin forms on the man's face, nothing but amusement glinting in his dark eyes contrasting his vibrant ginger hair so well.
“Hi there.”
Hermione makes no move to adjust her tangled limbs, unable to focus on anything but the palpitations taking over her heart.
“Can you move?” The stranger asks another question, his brows furrowing under the thin strap of his helmet.
“I-” The words get lost on the tip of her tongue, and she closes her mouth as she feels her cheeks grow warm despite the chilly air.
He searches the path for any lingering skiers. "Are you here with anyone else?"
She's certain his grin grows wider when she shakes her head no. The man stands up straight with ease and offers her his hand.
“C’mon. I’ll help you down.”
Biting her lip in contemplation, Hermione quickly decides it's best if she lets the stranger assist her. She doesn't fancy trying to figure out how to stand up with her skis as a bunch of onlookers watch her from the chair lift.
She places one gloved hand into his own, and he pulls her body up with such force that their chests bump together once she's in a standing position.
Hermione squeaks, not expecting the sudden closeness to a tall man with seemingly taut muscles underneath all his layers of clothing—not that she's thinking about the shape of his body.
This is not what she had planned for the day, but as she meets the man's curious gaze one more time, Hermione is satisfied with the knowledge she actually doesn't mind all that much where she's ended up in the madness of skiing.
In an impressive move, he whips his skis around until he’s facing her, keeping a firm grip on both of her hands.
Hermione's eyes widen as she checks his stance. “You’re going to ski backwards?”
A cheeky grin lights up his face and he nods once in affirmation.
“Wait.”
She blurts the word out before they can descend the mountain together, a question pestering the forefront of her mind.
“I promise it’s not the first time I’ve skied backwards. And I've also gone down this slope loads of times.”
“It’s not that. It’s just—I don’t even know your name. I’d like to give you a proper thank you if we ever make it to the bottom of this hill.”
His lips curl up again, an action that makes her stomach flutter in a way she wasn't expecting. “It’s Ron. Ron Weasley. And I look forward to that proper thank you…” His voice trails off as his eyebrows lift with the expectation for her to fill in the missing information.
She grins. “Hermione. Hermione Granger.”
He squeezes their joined hands with the slightest pressure before squaring his shoulders. "You ready?"
A shaky breath leaves her lips, but she nods anyway.
It's now or never.
Ron slowly begins to weave his way down the mountain, pulling her along like he's in control of her wagon. She's amazed by the fluidity of his movements and by the way looks over his shoulder periodically to make sure they're not set to collide into any other people.
"Don't look down. Keep your eyes on me."
Hermione's eyes snap to his baby blues she's been so nervous about getting lost in, but the fire displayed in them calms her tense muscles straight away.
"You've obviously been skiing before."
Ron laughs. "Yeah, most of my life. My whole family takes a holiday here about once a year and we stay in the lodge for a week. This is our first day."
The two men she saw on the slopes earlier must be related to Ron, she gathers, with their height and striking red hair.
"You probably have worked out by now that I am not an experienced skier. This is my first time actually."
"Ah." Ron shrugs. "I wouldn't have known that if you hadn't told me. I've fallen loads of times, no matter how much experience I have."
A surge of heat rolls through her body and Hermione marvels at this man's ability to make her feel comfortable and not at all embarrassed by her lack of coordination.
Ron skids to a stop as they reach the bottom faster than she had expected, but also at a pace that never made her panic along the journey.
"Thank you. I never would have made it without you."
"Did you even realize that I let go of your hands?"
Hermione gasps, looking down at her hands now clasped together in front of her. "Well, when did you do that?"
"About halfway down the mountain. The rest was all you."
Suddenly bashful, Hermione looks down at her skis, making an attempt to brush off the cakes of snow layering the tops.
Ron clears his throat, prompting her gaze to shift back to him, and he's rocking back and forth on his heels as the tips of his ears burn red. She briefly wonders why he doesn't have a fleece ear band to shield his skin from the cold, but then it dawns on her the color of his ears might be due to a different reason.
"Hey, you wouldn't fancy a drink in the lodge would you? There's a great pub ale that'll warm you right up."
She wants to say he already has warmed her up, but she doesn't want to mistake his friendliness for flirtation.
Hermione is about to politely decline in an effort to prevent embarrassing herself any further, but a voice in the back of her head stops her.
"Yes. I'd love to."
Ron's face splits into a massive smile for the umpteenth time today, a smile so contagious she can't help but match. He reaches for her hand without a word, guiding her through the crowd of people towards the warm lodge.
Maybe she'll work up the courage to try the slopes again later if Ron is willing to stay by her side to help her learn.
But Hermione is certain about one thing. She could definitely be spontaneous more often.