A/N:

I got extremely bored one day and decided to become a fanfic writer, but it's a secret

Seriously, no one else I know thinks I like this stuff, so I like to keep it that way.

I haven't done a Ron/Hermione thingy in a while, so here we go! (OOTP)

...

'Tonks is picking up harry with Mad Eye and a couple of the others next week some time.'

Hermione barged into his room as he was changing from his shirt into his pyjamas. She did not seem too phased by this but he didn't risk her seeing him like this, and grabbed his t shirt.

Ron sat up, startled and confused.

'What! How do you know everything? And have you ever heard of knocking?'

Ron stood up from his bed, where he was feverishly fidgeting, pointlessly moving around the piles of books he had scattered across the covers instead of doing any work from them or organising himself. Several piles wobbled and fell over as he jumped up, splaying themselves across the worn, faded quilt.

'I'm only paying you back for walking in on me whilst I was in the bath.' Hermione shrugged, and then realised she had the other question to answer.

'She told me.' Hermione stated in an 'it's-so-simple-it's-obvious' type of tone, a small smirk playing on the corners of her mouth and her eyes threatening to wander down his body. He was, after all, semi- naked with only his jeans on. Ron chose to ignore this comment to avoid his own embarrassment and instead focused on the atrocious mess he'd created whilst fiddling with his shirt in his hands.

They both stared at the piles, Ron more guiltily than Hermione.

'I see you still haven't sorted your trunk out then. Or your washing, or your bed covers!' Hermione exclaimed 'I've done all of mine, so I can relax for once!'

'What do you mean? We've only just got here.' Ron frowned and kicked his case with his underwear hanging out under the bed.

'We've been here since this morning.' Hermione glanced out at the now darkened view from the window. There was barely anything of significant shape out there, just black.

'Yeah well, you can expect me to do everything as quick as you. The bed's made, though!'

'Yes, but by the looks of it, it's filthy.' Hermione was one to frequently turn her nose up at anything slightly manky or dirty that Ron owned and would rub it in his face until he did something about it.

'Because it hasn't been used in decades.' Ron grumbled, patting the covers to see a cloud of dust billow from the material. He grimaced and stepped away.

'Well that really is disgusting. Here, let me help you.' Hermione unfolded her arms and began to tie back her hair, as if some revolting mite could come and jump out at her any second. 'Your mum says she'll be up in a bit to get the covers cleaned. I don't think she approves of Sirius's home habits much.'

'Hang on, did you say relax?'

'what?' Hermione exclaimed. She scowled and tucked a loose strand of hair into her hair band.

'just before... How can you? The tension is so high in this building that any more of it could make my hair stand up!'

'Truth be told,' she sighed 'I can't...not yet. I won't be able to until Harry's here. It's too empty without him.'

Hermione scooped up the remaining books from the bed and put them on a wooden, scratched and rickety chair in the corner and then came back to the bed, which Ron was already undressing, removing the pillows and throws.

'I know how you feel...without him, there's just this absence. Like there's no real reason for us to be here. Why are we here?'

'I'm not too sure yet... when you're dad called; I thought we'd be more involved.'

They both grabbed two ends each of the heavy bed cover and dragged it off the bed. Hermione put her ends down so as Ron could shake the dust out of it. When she dropped them, a huge puff of dust evacuated itself from the middle, making them both cough and laugh at the same time.

'I know. All we've heard is that Tonks rattling about down there like she's got no sense of awareness of her surroundings or something. She's like a human hurricane...' Ron reached to grab his shirt which he had previously abandoned on the bed. '...leaving terror and destruction in her path...'

'She's perfectly lovely once you get to know her!' Hermione said defensively as she began to fold up the cover, patting out the dust as she did so. Ron snorted and turned around, too busy thinking up a retort to put his top back on.

'Sure she is. Maybe her 'loveliness' will compensate for her lack of balance!'

'All she did was knock that painting off the wall and drop the pan on your foot. You can still walk perfectly well!' Hermione shrugged and looked at him from her kneeling position on the floor. 'You just like to complain is all.' She had a rather mischievous glint in her eye, and if Ron hadn't been so irritated by this remark, he would have noticed this attempt to wind him up, in which she was succeeding already.

'Scuse me! I do NOT! I don't complain half as much as you; always on about Spew and my grammar and everything else you could possibly find a fault in.'

'I beg your pardon?' Hermione began to stand up from the covers, still clutching the grubby, tasselled cushion she had been skinning the case from in her hand.

'Pardon granted.' Ron folded his arms triumphantly as he realised he had started yet another argument which he WOULD win. It was time he was the victor in these situations for once.

'who's the one who's always telling me that I'm too this or too that, or that the things I am interested in are pointless or stupid?' she was now fully standing up about a metre and a half away from him, ready to attack.

'Who's the one who always gets involved in mental stuff like SPEW?' Ron took a step closer, looking down at her. She hated how he had grown so much again. It made it much harder to keep eye contact whilst arguing, or feel faintly superior without trying to hard.

'You know that the house elves don't actually WANT to be freed, don't you? It's their job to serve as slaves to the family! It's what they're happiest doing!'

'They're brainwashed!' Hermione said shrilly and took a step in as well in order to gain some authority and not feel like he was backing her into a corner. 'And talking of enduring menial tasks: got any more procrastinating to do? Or are you too busy reading your silly little magazines about quidditch players or collecting weird cards from sweet wrappers?' she was now looking him up and down as he rolled his eyes, and she noticed he was actually rather toned for a 14 year old. Hermione was fairly surprised at this, since she expected him to be all lanky and skinny, but she knew for a fact that he'd been helping around with his dad, moving heavy boxes things from the shed whilst he was at work.

It was a fairly compromising position, but she wasn't at all uncomfortable.

'Oh shush your mouth! I may collect cards every now and then, but it's not like I've dated anyone of them!'

'what?'

'Oh I forgot to ask, how was Bulgaria?' Ron took another step so that they were about five centimetres apart now, both of them: arms folded, eyes thin and mouths twitching. The only difference in image was one had a cushion tucked under their arm and the other hadn't a shirt on.

'Going out with him for his fame, well that's probably the most shallow thing-'

'I'll have you know,' Hermione leaned in so that her face was close to his, 'I didn't go. I wasn't planning to tell you, but as you seem so interested, I thought I'd put you out of your misery.' She staggered her last words in order to make sure he heard it clearly. She didn't go... because of him.

As tempting as it seemed to lean in further than her, Ron kept his head in the same position: slightly forward, just enough to lean over her. His heart skipped slightly and the peeved weight on his shoulders disappeared with no warning, making his head go slightly fuzzy.

'Why?' he said quietly as his arched back softened out and his arms fell from their tight position.

'Why do you think?' she whispered slowly and leaned in so that their noses were so close to touching. She did not know what she was doing now, but taunting him was rather fun. She tilted her head slightly and reached up, her mouth barely a centimetre from his. Her eyelids fluttered as they threatened to close...

WHAM

'Ahhh!'

Hermione hit Ron hard in the face with the cushion and a huge cloud of dust filled his lungs and tickled his eyes as she disappeared behind it.

'oh, and put your shirt on!' she said and walked briskly out of the room.

'...bloody hell...' Ron clutched a hand to his face. '...she thought I was...she was going to...'

The realisation that he had completely succumbed to her and had given away his cover dawned on him.

'SHIT!'

'Language, Ronald!' she yelled from a flight of stairs below.

'HERMIONE!'

...le end...

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Thanks