a/n: this story was posted by me a long time ago (pre book 7) on another site. I have decided to repost it here. The story is completely finished, but I will update it per chapter.

It had been quite an ordeal. Being poisoned on your birthday isn't exactly what anyone would wish for, but it certainly had its benefits. After having been asleep for what felt like a decade, he awoke early in the morning in the hospital wing to find Hermione sleeping next to him. After waking her up, she had told him she had decided to accompany him as often as possible, for as long as possible, until he was asleep. Ron couldn't believe his luck. They were on speaking terms again! He had felt quite horrible seeing Hermione cry during his post-euphoric hook-up with Lavender. Though he would never tell her, he knew he had deserved her barrage of yellow kamikaze origami.

In the weeks that followed, Hermione still wasn't her old self though. Every time Lavender came within twenty feet of Ron, she would silently stalk off. Lavender had been annoying him for quite some time now. She had nothing interesting to say, nothing to challenge him or make him laugh. Kissing her had become a decision he had began to dislike, as odd as that might seem to him. It had made him a bit bolder around Hermione, more daring to show his affection to her. Though these moments were rare and perhaps not bold enough, he knew she knew enough. All that needed to be solved was getting rid of Lavender. She really did seem to like him, for reasons unknown to him. Perhaps it was because he was a prefect now.

It had been a widespread rumour that Ronald Weasley had become prefect only because Dumbledore had suffered temporary insanity that day. Even Ron knew that Harry would have been the better choice. It was nice to share prefect duty and meetings with Hermione, but even he could not think of anything that made him stand out over the rest (not taking his physique into account off course). Sometimes, when he could not sleep, and even his thoughts of Hermione could not put him into stupor, he wondered if he should have gone to Dumbledore and demanded to be un-prefected.

This was one of those nights. Harry and Neville were snoring soundly in their four-posters. The others breathed with deep, long breaths. It was several minutes past midnight, and the whole of the castle was silent. Every sound was deadened. Even the wind seemed to have died down to keep quiet. Ron was wide-awake. Every part of him felt alive and above all, bored. Ron decided to go out and creep down to the kitchen to get some food.
That might soothe me to sleep. I've been thinking about Hermione for hours now.
He 'borrowed' Harry's invisibility cloak and threw it over himself. After quickly checking himself (or more accurately, the absence of himself) in the mirror, he left the dormitories.

On his way back from the kitchens where he had eaten a nice big scoop of ice (two house elves had been needed to carry it to him), Ron passed the common room. He had given it little thought on the way out, since there usually isn't anything to give thought about. Something red caught his eyes, though. Hermione had apparently forgotten her embroidery, since it was lying on one of the arms of her favourite chair. It was bright red and actually shaped like a sock, which was remarkable for her at that time.
She must've been working with it for a while. He picked it up, to take it with him. She would be pleased no-one had snatched it in her absence. When Ron turned around, he let out a silent scream. He had expected the chair to be empty, but instead, it was filled with the sleeping form of Hermione. Standing there, Ron looked down on her. She could not see him, even if she wasn't asleep. It was the perfect opportunity to stare at her without being ashamed or being interrupted.

She was wearing her usual: school robes over a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt. Ron looked looked at her face. It was pretty. She was prettier than Lavender. Lavender was the girl that was pretty from afar, but far from pretty up close.
"I always thought Lavender was pretty, until I saw her up close", Ron mumbled. "I mean, sure, she's got nice blonde hair and all, but there just isn't any spark. Rather unlike you and me. I guess you never realized just how pretty your curls are. I wonder if …"
For just a moment, Ron thought Hermione was awake. Her breathing seemed irregular and her eyes looked like they were shifting under their lids. Probably just having a dream.

Ron sat by Hermione for a while; softly mumbling about how much he loved to be with her, how much he was sorry about Lavender and how much he would like to kiss her. Somehow, telling her felt soothing, as if a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. It was only at the strike of half passed one on the clock that Ron got interrupted.
"Look at the time; I guess its time for me to head back. Don't want you to get angry with me tomorrow for being sleepy. It's not prefect behaviour. Not that I'm such a great prefect anyway. I've been thinking about handing the badge over to Harry, you know."
"No, Ron! You're really a good prefect!" Hermione said, suddenly springing to life, "there is no need for you to doubt yourself!"
Ron's face suddenly turned paler than the moon. Has she been awake all this time?
"You're a really just and authoritative prefect. People listen to you; they do what you tell them to do. People don't do that to anybody. Even bossy me can't stop half the things you can. You can't just quit!"
Ron's face now flushed scarlet. It was good he had the invisibility cloak on, or she might have seen how embarrassed he was. He had never felt like he was better in anything than Hermione apart from Quidditch and Wizard's Chess.

"Did you mean it?" Hermione asked after he had removed the invisibility cloak.
"Mean what?" Ron replied.
"Everything silly!" Hermione said, "Do you really think my curls are pretty?"
"Of course! Everything about you is pretty. Others might not see it, but I do."
"I guess you shouldn't tell Lavender that," Hermione whispered lovingly, "She might get upset."

Later that night, Ron decided this night was not for sleeping. Hermione and he had been talking for hours on end about everything and nothing. It's strange how much you have to tell someone you haven't spoken to for a while. Especially if you've really wanted to tell her everything that was happening in your life. Hermione had told him he had to go back up to his dormitory. They had noticed it was passed three o'clock and she would not stay longer. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and sent him off to bed.

Ron had been afraid to start about his feelings about her, apart from telling her how much he missed her company. Telling her when she was asleep was easy; she would never have heard it. But he had never found the courage to tell her face-to-face. I don't have to tell her any more. She heard everything I had to say already.

"Things are going to change. Now that she knows how I feel about her, I will not back down. I will kiss her before the end of this week. Well, make that this month." In the end, he swore he would kiss her before he turned eighteen.

Next morning was a hard one. Harry and the others had been up and dressed already, while Ron was still fighting his sleep in bed.
"There's a present for you, Ron." Harry said sleepily. "It's on your bedside table."
Ron opened his eyes. Upon his bedside table was a small round parcel with a small piece of parchment on it.
"Who's it from?", Harry asked.
"Dunno mate, but I've got a pretty good hunch."
The small parcel felt soft and light. Upon it was a small piece op parchment. It smelled faintly of something familiar, but he couldn't put his finger to what it was exactly. Upon the parchment was written, in a very pretty handwriting:

"Dear Ron,

This is for your birthday. I hope
you enjoy them, I wanted my
present to be personal.
See if you can figure it out..."

There wasn't any name on it, but the handwriting made it obvious whom it came from. Ron unwrapped his present quickly and eagerly. Out of them fell two socks. They were bright red and had a small imprint on their sides. Both socks showed a cauldron with steam going out of them. They both spelled the same words: "The Burrow".
That's got Hermione written on it front and back. I wonder what the imprints mean though.