A/N: Pure Romione fluff. I make no apologies. Rated M for scenes in future chapters of a mildly sexual nature. All feedback appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling

The light slanting in through the window blinds cast stripes of shadow across the room. Leaning back against the headboard of my twin bed, I let my eyes go unfocused, making shapes out of the shadows. The familiarity of my childhood bedroom twisted into something strange and slightly unnerving. Blinking, I let my eyes refocus again, the objects in my room falling comfortingly back into place. I shook my head and stretched.

Pushing back the blankets, I climbed out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom adjoining my bedroom. Flipping the light switch, I blinked against the sudden brightness and fumbled for my toothbrush. As I brushed my teeth, I stared into the mirror at my reflection, taking note of my frizzy hair and pale complexion, my skin looking washed out in the glare of the vanity lights. I rinsed my mouth and dropped my toothbrush back into its cup next to the sink.

Looking back into the mirror, I turned my head first to one side, then the other, peering at myself from various angles as though I might suddenly see a different face appear in the glass. I gathered my hair into my hands, twisting it and holding it above my head before dropping it back onto my shoulders. Leaning in close to the glass, I studied my face in detail, the dark honey color of my eyes, the light smattering of freckles across my nose and cheeks, the curve of my lips, the angle of my jaw. Analyzing my features, I wondered to myself whether I was pretty or plain. Sometimes if I caught myself in the right light, at a certain angle, it was as if I were seeing a new person, somebody beautiful. But then, as I looked at myself straight on again, I was faced once more with the image of plain old Hermione Granger.

Stepping back, I grabbed my hairbrush and attempted to tame my wild curls, pulling my hair back as smoothly as I could into a ponytail. I washed my face and reached blindly for the fluffy yellow towel hanging next to the sink. Rubbing the coarse fabric against my face, I felt the blood rush to the surface of my skin, making me feel more awake and alert. Refolding the towel, I placed it neatly back onto the towel bar and walked back into the bedroom to get dressed.

Opening my closet, my eyes ran over the orderly arrangement of clothing hanging there, waiting to see if anything stood out to me. Of course, nothing ever did. My clothes were all somewhat basic and unremarkable. Plain clothes for a plain girl, I thought to myself as I grabbed a green and pink striped shirt off a hanger along with a pair of khaki pants. I dressed, tossing my pajamas into the laundry basket and pulling on a pair of worn tennis shoes before making the bed and leaving the room.

As I headed downstairs, I listened for the sounds of my parents moving about in the house. Passing through the front hall, I glanced at the tall grandfather clock on my way to the kitchen. 9:37am. They must have already gone to work. Normally I was an early riser, up before the sun, but these summer days had me feeling a bit lazy.

Entering the kitchen, I was met with the warm, mingled scents of coffee and oats. I lifted the lid of the slow cooker sitting on the granite countertop and saw that someone had left a pot of oatmeal warming inside. I inhaled, taking in the scents of vanilla, brown sugar, and nutmeg, before setting the lid aside. I pulled at the handle of the dark wooden cabinet and took down a small, green bowl from the shelf. Rummaging in the silverware drawer, I located a spoon and began to scoop some oatmeal into my dish. I cut in some banana and added a splash of milk, pouring myself a glass of orange juice as well before climbing up onto a tall stool at the kitchen island to eat my breakfast.

Before I was halfway through, I thought I heard a clattering noise outside. Pausing, I looked up from my bowl and listened intently. After a moment, there was a knock at the door. Hopping off the stool, I headed toward the front hall, approaching cautiously. I stood on my tiptoes to peer out through the peephole, wand in hand. Squinting, I could just make out the ginger-haired form of Ronald Weasley. I sighed, shoving my wand back into my pocket as I pulled open the door. Ron stood on the porch leaning casually against a broomstick, his clothing rumpled and hair wild, with a careless grin on his face.

"You scared me half to death," I greeted him. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too," he answered, pushing past me into the house without waiting for an invitation.

I closed the door and crossed my arms, turning to face him as I awaited an explanation. I watched his eyes light up as he sniffed the air. "Brilliant! Is that breakfast?" he asked eagerly as he dropped his broom by the front door and followed his nose to the kitchen. Rolling my eyes, I followed behind him.

Ron wasted no time in locating the pot of oatmeal and procuring a large bowl which he filled to the brim. Already shoveling food into his mouth, he finally turned to face me.

I placed my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow at him. "Just make yourself at home," I told him.

"Fanks," he mumbled through a mouthful of food.

I shook my head. "Well?" I prompted, "Aren't you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

He swallowed and licked his lips. Feeling suddenly awkward, I tried not to let my eyes linger on his mouth, instead forming my face into a stern expression as I met his eyes.

"I came to rescue you from boredom. Thought you could use a bit of fun," he said, grinning again. His smile was infectious. I felt my face begin to soften, but held firmly to my senses as I looked at him with a frown.

"Ronald Weasley, please tell me you did not fly all the way here just for a 'bit of fun'! Someone could have seen you! Do you realize how much trouble you could get in?" I scolded him.

Ron shrugged, waving off my concern. "Nah, I was careful," he said, "Nobody saw me. You worry too much, Hermione."

"Oh, honestly, Ron. You take too many unnecessary risks. I'll be at the Burrow next week as it is," I said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, well…" Ron mumbled, his face inexplicably turning a pale shade of crimson as he said almost inaudibly, "There's always too many people there."

Abruptly, he turned away from me and, seeming to notice my bowl still sitting on the counter, placed his own next to it as he plopped down onto a stool. Looking over at me, he patted the stool next to him invitingly. I sighed, giving in, and climbed up beside him to finish my breakfast. Glancing sidelong at Ron, I noticed his pleased smile as he turned his attention back to his food. I chose to ignore it and continued eating my oatmeal in silence.

Ron, of course, finished first. Pushing his dish away, he turned towards me and leaned his elbow on the counter, resting his head in his hand as he watched me eating. I looked over at him, raising an eyebrow. "There's more oatmeal in the pot if you want it," I told him.

He shook his head. "I ate the last of it," he said.

I stared at his eager face for a moment as he flashed me his most charming smile. As I looked into his twinkling blue eyes, I felt my breath catch in my chest. Rolling my eyes, I pushed my bowl over towards him, trying to appear aggravated but feeling my face betray me as a smile formed on my lips.

Flashing his teeth in a wide grin, he paused only to say, "Thanks, Hermione!" before beginning to polish off the rest of my oatmeal. I watched as he devoured it, resisting the urge to run my fingers through his tousled hair and smooth down the ginger locks.

Mostly to give myself something else to do, I grabbed his empty dish and hopped off the barstool, walking over to the sink to rinse it out. As I scrubbed at it with a brush, the water running from the faucet, I didn't hear him come up behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I felt him press against my back, leaning over me to drop his now empty bowl into the sink. I felt his breath against my ear, the rumble of his words sending a shiver through me as he said, "That was great, thanks."

"Mmhmm," I mumbled, my body on edge as I waited for him to move away. I picked up the other dish and began scrubbing at it a bit too vigorously.

Finally, he stepped back and I could breathe normally again. After rinsing the bowls and spoons, I placed them in the drainer next to the sink and shut off the faucet. Turning to face him as I dried my hands, I thought I caught an odd look in his eye as he stood watching me, but it was gone before I could be sure I had even seen it. While I considered this, he turned and picked up my glass of orange juice from the counter, draining it before setting it down again.

"Well," he said brightly, "Let's go!"

Confused, I asked slowly, "Go where?"

With a mischievous smile, he raised his eyebrows and said dramatically, "I'm taking you flying."

My eyes widened and I felt my mouth go dry. I stood speechless for a moment, stunned. He took advantage of my momentary silence to grasp my hand and begin pulling me towards the front door.

Recovering shortly, I dug in my heels and began to protest. "Ron, no. We can't."

Undeterred, he glanced back at me. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because…" I began, gathering my thoughts for an argument, "It's dangerous. Anyone could see us. We'd be breaking about a dozen wizarding laws. And…" I trailed off, not wanting to mention the real reason I didn't want to go. The truth was, flying terrified me. I preferred to keep my feet safely on solid ground.

Ron stopped abruptly. Letting go of my hand, he crossed his arms and turned to me with an amused grin. "Scared?" he challenged, eyebrows raised.

I felt the heat rush to my face as anger swelled in my chest. Wanting nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face, I retorted, "Of course not!" And before I could consider what I was agreeing to, I added, "Let's go!"

"Brilliant!" Ron grasped my hand again with a triumphant smile, pulling me once more towards the door.

He grabbed his broom as we walked through the front hall and out onto the porch. A knot of uneasiness began to develop in the pit of my stomach as the door closed behind us. I can do this, I told myself firmly, summoning my courage. Focusing on the warmth of his calloused palm as he continued to hold my hand firmly in his, I followed as Ron led me around to the back of the house, finally stopping in the shade of a large tree in the backyard.

I looked up at the tree, then over to him, confused. "What are we doing?" I asked.

He glanced around and responded, "Don't want anyone to see us disappear."

"Disappear?" A startled bird took off from a branch above us at the sound of my voice.

"Shhh…" Ron shushed me, placing his hand on my shoulder as he glanced around again. "Look," he began to explain, holding out the broom towards me, "Fred and George charmed it, see, so whoever is riding it turns invisible. It's like their Headless Hats, only instead of your head disappearing, it's your whole body!" he finished excitedly. "Only…" he continued somewhat reluctantly, "I reckon they haven't worked out all the kinks yet, because it begins to wear off after a bit." Noticing my look, he added hastily, "But we just need it to last long enough to get under cloud cover anyway, and then we'll get far enough away from the Muggles that it won't really matter."

"Ron, I don't know. This sounds like a really bad idea," I told him. "Maybe we should—" He cut me off before I could finish.

"Come on, Hermione. Live a little." He looked down at me hopefully. Crossing my arms, I glared back at him, unconvinced.

"Alright," he said, holding his hands up in defeat, "I understand if it's too much for you. Why don't we just go back inside and you can spend your day reading books about other people who've lived their lives. Much safer." The smugness was back on his face and I was sorely tempted to slap him.

"Fine," I said through gritted teeth, my hands curled into fists at my side. "Let's get this over with."

His face lit up in excitement and he pulled me towards him, glancing around once more to make sure nobody was around to see us. Suddenly the nervousness was back in full force as I hesitantly mounted the broom in front of him, my hands shaking slightly. Ron seemed to notice this, speaking soothingly into my ear as he wrapped his arms around me, his hands gripping the broom in front of mine. "It's ok, Hermione. Trust me. I won't let you fall."

I tried to relax my muscles, but the sound of his voice in my ear made me tense up for very different reasons. "Okay," I managed to squeak.

He rubbed my arm comfortingly before gripping the broom once again. "Ready?" he asked.

I mumbled something like an affirmation, and before I knew it he had kicked off the ground, vanishing us and the broom as he had promised. As we rose into the air, my stomach dropped and I couldn't help the shriek that escaped my lips. "Shhh…" Ron said, "I've got you."

Clenching my jaw, I pressed my lips firmly together, resisting the urge to shut my eyes as I gripped the broom more tightly. Settling back into his warmth, I felt Ron pressed reassuringly against my back, his arms encircling mine. As he pulled the broom up to go higher, I said "Just be careful, ok?"

"Don't worry," he replied. "No loops, no rolls, nothing too crazy. I promise."

I took a shaky breath and looked down below us. It was scary enough being this high up, but not being able to see ourselves made it that much stranger. I watched the ground drop farther away. Houses and buildings grew smaller and smaller, before disappearing altogether as we left the populated areas to fly over forests and fields.

I shivered, the air growing colder the higher we ascended. "I should have brought a jacket," I said.

I felt our balance shift slightly, then Ron's warm hand against my arm as he chaffed my skin before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me tightly against him. Tucking his chin into the crook of my neck, he asked, "Better?"

I shivered again, this time feeling a warmth flood through my veins as my face flushed and my skin tingled. "Yes," I mumbled.

I noticed the vanishing charm wearing off after a time, the broom slowly becoming visible along with our hands grasping it. Looking down to where Ron's arm encircled my waist, I felt a giddiness flow through me that had nothing to do with the altitude.

I began to relax as we flew through the clouds, starting to get used to the swooping feeling in my stomach. Looking down over the scenery below us, I watched the sun glinting on the water as a river wound its way through a thick wood, the tree canopy looking like an artist's palette with shades of greens and browns blending into each other. Then the trees thinned out until the ground looked like it was covered in a soft green velvet, rolling in waves as the hills rose and fell.

"It's beautiful," I murmured.

I felt Ron's lips stretch into a smile against my neck. "I know," he said.

Turning my head slightly, I glanced over at him. His eyes were fixed on my face in a deep blue, penetrating gaze. I felt my bottom lip tremble and pulled it into my mouth, biting down to keep it still. Ron's eyes then moved downward, staring at my lips almost hungrily.

I studied his face, so close to mine. Drinking in his features, I took in the smattering of freckles across his skin, his pale lashes framing his bright, blue eyes, the strands of red hair blowing against his forehead, and his long, straight nose leading down to his soft, full mouth. I watched as his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. I felt my breath catch and looked up to meet his eyes once again.

That was the look, I thought suddenly. The look I thought I had caught a glimpse of back in my kitchen, only now it wasn't just a glimpse. Now he turned his eyes on me with an intensity I had never seen there before. I felt his arm tighten around my middle as he spoke my name softly, "Hermione."

I swallowed, feeling my heartrate speed up. Shaking slightly, I took a deep breath, trying to still my body.

"Are you cold?" he asked me.

I shook my head, my eyes locked on his. "No," I whispered.

Then his face was coming closer and I closed my eyes as I felt his warm, soft lips against my own. For a few moments, I forgot everything else as his mouth moved against mine, sweetly at first before becoming more urgent. As his tongue brushed against my lips, I let my mouth open to his, turning my body towards him and reaching one hand up to tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mouth tasted of citrus and vanilla with a hint of something else, something indefinable that was all his own. Suddenly, I felt a rush as the broom swooped down, dropping us slightly. I gasped as I pulled back from him, abruptly remembering where we were as I twisted around to grab onto the broom handle tightly.

I felt Ron's brief chuckle vibrating against my back as he muttered sheepishly, "Sorry." Releasing my waist, he placed both hands firmly on the broom and added, "We're almost there anyway."

"Almost where?" I asked, but he didn't respond.

Looking down, I saw we were flying over some sort of field or meadow, sprinkled here and there with large, leafy trees and covered in tall grasses strewn with wildflowers. In the distance, I thought I could make out a glimmer of light reflected on water. As we slowly descended, my suspicions were confirmed as a small lake came into view.

"Where are we going?" I asked again.

"You'll see," said Ron as he continued our descent.