A/N: First Harry Potter fic! I actually prefer to write one-shots because long, million-chapter stories get boring after a while and the authors get lazy after the first 25 chapters. Then it goes down hill and blah, blah, blah... Anyway. This story probably takes place during the summer between their 6th year and 7th year. Just so you all know: In this one-shot, I'm really trying to make it as realistic as possible. I get really sick of all those Ron/Hermione stories where they run around screaming that they love each other. The real Ron and Hermione are shy about their affections, so they wouldn't do that. So I guess this is a subtle romance. Don't get me wrong, though. I SUPPORT RON/HERMIONE!!! Just the realistic kind. ;)

Locked

Standing on tiptoe, Ron reached his hand up to the shelf of the kitchen closet, trying to reach the last of the paper cups. As tall as he was, the shelf was taller even as he stood on a small footstool he had dragged in from the living room. He quickly glanced over his shoulder to make sure the closet door was still open. The closet door always locked from the inside, and only people from the outside could unlock it. He had found this out the hard way a few years back when Fred and George thought it would be funny to lock Ron inside.

Frustrated, he hopped off the stool and glared at the far-away paper cups, cursing at them as if he could hurt their feelings. Just as Ron turned around to leave, Hermione stood in the doorway, giving him a puzzled look.

"What are you doing up this late?" She asked. Ron was caught off-guard by her presence and suddenly became self conscious of his case of messy bed-head. He unsuccessfully tried to fix it by running his fingers through his fiery locks nervously.

"Oh, uh, just getting a drink of water. What about you?" He demanded. Hermione placed her hands on her hips, a position he had seen her perform countless times before when they shared their constant arguments.

"I heard some banging from downstairs and decided to see what it was. Obviously, it was you." She smirked. "I never knew getting a drink of water could be so noisy."

Ron groaned and pointed up at the stubborn paper cups that remained teasingly on the top shelf. "It is when you can't reach the damn paper cups."

Hermione released a sound that was a mix between a sigh and a laugh, something else she did often when she spoke to Ron. He, however, translated this noise into more of: "Oh, that's right. We're talking to Ron now. Which means that everything he says has no point or high matter of importance."

This bugged Ron more than anything.

"Let's see if I can help..." Hermione offered. Ron narrowed his eyes and sighed grudgingly.

"Fine. Just don't close the--"

Hermione's bed robe must've somehow gotten caught on the closet door knob. As she took a step inside, the door swung shut behind them, stranding both of them inside the dark, cramped closet together. Ron's eyes widened as the door shut out the remaining beams of moonlight that shone through the kitchen window.

"...door." He finished lamely, standing in pure darkness.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked. She didn't know the Weasley house as well as a Weasley child would, so closing the closet door didn't seem like such a dramatic event to her.

"We're locked in here, that's what's wrong." Ron mumbled unhappily, taking a seat on the footstool, hands cupping either side of his face.

"Oh, but... Ron, that's ridiculous! I mean--" He could detect the sudden worry in her voice and expression, but it was obvious that she was trying to hide it.

"And don't try yelling for help. Fred and George put a jinx on this room to make it sound proof for when they used to shove me and Ginny in here. No one can hear you from outside." Ron explained glumly, watching Hermione's chesnut eyes grow wider.

"That's horrible!" She snapped. Ron shrugged.

"That's Fred and George."

"So now what?" Hermione wondered after a long, drawn-out sigh that made Ron suspect tears were approaching.

"We wait for someone to open the door, I expect." He answered as Hermione took a seat on a cardboard box beside Ron. "I don't suppose you have your wand with you...?"

"No." Hermione replied disappointedly. A few minutes of silence passed, making the situation seem more awkward than it already was.

"Is this a bad time to mention that I'm very claustrophobic?" Hermione suddenly asked, breaking the silence. Ron glanced at her incredulously even though she couldn't see due to the lack of light.

"Yes, Hermione, this is a very bad time." His voice instantly sounded more vulnerable, almost paranoid. "Do you feel alright?"

"At the moment." She replied softly. "Is it possible to get some light in here?"

"Sure." Ron stood up quickly and noisily, nearly knocking over his stool in the process. He searched through the shelves that held dust-covered appliances and snacks plagued with mold until he spotted an ancient-looking lantern standing beside a box of matches. He sparked a flame and watched it grow inside the glass of the lantern. The light, however, was very dim due to the amount of grime padded against the glass. It was barely enough to allow the two to see one another's faces.

"Thank you." Hermione muttered, smiling lightly at Ron's yellow-tinted face. This time, Hermione could see him roll his eyes.

"No, no, thank you." Ron's sarcasim was so thick, Hermione could almost see it dripping from his words. Her face was immediately stern and offended.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She demanded, irritated by both Ron's comment and her continuing claustrophobia.

"You know what it means! You're the one who got us bloody stuck in here!" Ron fumed. Hermione scoffed.

"It was an accident, Ronald! It wasn't my fault!" She argued, her voice icy.

"And now I'm stuck here with you!"He continued bitterly. Hermione gave a humorless laugh, high-pitched and deranged.

"I'm pretty sure that I have it worse. I'm stuck here with you!"

If Ron and Hermione were anywhere else having an argument, they would both simply stomp off in opposite directions before they began handling the rest of the bickering with their fists or wands. But stomping away from each other was a very difficult thing to do in a kitchen closet. So they both sat there, having their backs turned toward each other, fighting the urge to pounce and attack.

After what seemed like an hour, Ron heard sniffling coming from Hermione's side of the closet. He slowly and carefully looked behind him to find Hermione curled up on the floor, back still facing his. There was no doubt that she was crying. He swallowed hard and felt his heart sink into his stomach.

"Hermione...?" He whispered. No responce. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay, Ronald." Even crying couldn't disguise her sarcasim. She sniffled again and couldn't contain a sorrowful sob.

Ron bit his bottom lip and shut his eyes. He didn't know why he felt the strong, sudden urge to apologize right then. He had never felt the need before. But then again, he had never known that his fights with Hermione consistently left her in tears. She had always stomped away before she started crying. And if he apologized, Hermione would never let him forget it. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He--

"I'm sorry, Her--"

"Just shut up, Ron!" She yelled through tears. He stopped immediately and her voice softened. "Please, just... leave me alone, okay?"

More sobs came from Hermione and Ron couldn't take it anymore. He spun around in his seat to face her back, slowly got up and knelt beside her. He swallowed and paused for a moment, trying to find the perfect words.

"Hermione, I know you're mad and probably don't want to talk to me right now, so just listen, alright?" Ron waited for the responce he knew he wouldn't get before pressing on with a sigh of defeat. "I'm sorry. I was being a git, and you have every right to be angry. And I understand if you won't forgive me--"

"Why do we always argue?" Hermione asked with sincere curiosity, turning to face him finally. Even in the dim light, Ron could still see tear stains running down her cheeks. He never had time to realize how gorgeous her eyes were, even when wet. Ron was distracted and caught off-guard by her question.

"Uh, us?" He stammered stupidly, glancing back and forth between Hermione and the floor. "Well, I guess... I dunno."

She sighed. "I don't know either. I was hoping you did, so maybe we could put a stop to it."

"Put a stop to what?" Ron questioned as if he hadn't heard a word she just said.

"Our constant bickering." Hermione explained, giving a sniff. "It's childish and needs to end."

"Well, sometimes you deserve it. I mean, sometimes you really are being a bossy, know-it-all..."

"Ron, this is what I'm talking about!" Hermione protested, voice suddenly stern again. But then a few stray tears flowed down her face. "Do you really dislike me that much?"

Ron looked nearly frightened. "Of course not! No, no, not at all... I mean, I actually like... of course I don't dislike you, Hermione. You're one of my best mates."

She smiled at his babbling. "Yeah, I suppose."

Ron exhaled slowly and loudly as he sat against the shelf, legs out in front of him. Hermione wiped her eyes quickly and yawned.

"I wonder what time it is..." She thought aloud. Ron shrugged, yawning back.

"Late." He guessed. "Better get to sleep." With that, Ron stretched and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the shelf. Hermione sighed and situated herself to a comfortable position, still a good distance away from Ron. He was nearly asleep when Hermione spoke up.

"Ron?" Her voice was small and delicate.

"Mmm?" He mumbled sleepily.

"I feel better now. Thank you."

Ron smiled as he drifted into a peaceful, dream-filled sleep.

"I'll get the cups, Mum!"

Fred's voice boomed through the closet door, waking Ron abruptly. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the crack of sunlight that shone from under the door. He looked around, remembering that he had been locked in a closet last night. He looked downward and nearly gasped.

Laying on her side, Hermione slept on the floor so that her head rested in his lap comfortably. His face and ears glowed red and he was thankful no one was around to see him. He contemplated whether or not to wake her, but she looked so peaceful and beautiful laying there... Like an angel. She seemed to fit perfectly right there in his lap. He watched her back move up and down as she breathed in her sleep until the door swung open.

"What--?" Fred stood in the doorway, staring down at Ron and Hermione with his mouth open. The sudden burst of sunlight caused Ron to moan in protest, which caused Hermione to wake. As soon as she realized her position and Fred staring at her, she sat up in the blink of an eye. Both Ron and Hermione's faces turned a fiery red.

"What is it, Fred?" As if on cue, George appeared beside his twin, gaping down at their younger brother and Hermione sitting in the kitchen closet. "Ron?"

"F-Fred? G-George? Oh, uh, well..." Ron stammered, frozen with shock and embarrassment. Luckily, Hermione took control of the matter with ease.

"Well it's about time!" She exclaimed, exasperated. She stood and pushed past Fred and George, who still had their eyes on Ron's surprised expression. "Do you even know how long we've been stuck in there?"

"Pretty long, by the looks of it." George laughed, nudging Fred.

"And all because you two throught it would be 'funny' to put a silence jinx on the door!" Hermione continued. She gave the Weasley twins a 'humph' and took a seat beside Harry at the kitchen table.

"I'm not even going to ask." Fred shook his head at Ron, who still sat dumbstruck against the shelf.

"Yeah, please don't." He muttered, getting up off the floor. But the fact that he had just woken up made him still a bit wobbily. He steadied himself by gripping his hands on the shelf, accidentally giving it a big shake. As Ron gained his balance once again, the bag of paper cups fell off the shelf due to the shake, and landed right in his hands. Ron stared down at them unbelievably.

"Ah! There's a good man!" George clapped him on the back as Fred grabbed the paper cups from his hands. "Thanks for getting the cups for us! They're always impossible to reach, don't you think?"

The two walked away, leaving Ron standing in the closet. If he could see his own expression right then, he'd probably laugh at himself, but the situation didn't seem that comical to him right now. Inhaling deeply, he stepped out of the closet and closed the door behind him.

"Ron, take a seat at the table! Breakfast is almost ready." Mrs. Weasley motioned for him to sit down at the kitchen table with the rest of the children. He plopped himself down at the available seat between Hermione and Ginny, glaring threateningly at the paper cups that Fred was now passing around.

"Locked yourselves in a closet, did you?" Harry teased, giving his friends a grin.

"Yes," Hermione couldn't help but laugh in spite of herself. "It was quite idiotic, really."

"How did you not kill each other?" Ginny added with a giggle, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice. Hermione and Ron exchanged a quick glance.

"It was hard." Ron joked, smirking at Hermione good-naturedly.

"But we handled it maturely, didn't we, Ron?" Hermione smirked back. Everyone at the table scoffed at the idea of the two of them handling their feuds maturely.

But Ron and Hermione exchanged another quick look, this time with smiles, and continued on with their breakfast.

A/N: I'm nervous! I don't really know if I'm good or not, so it's up to you guys to tell me! Just leave a review of what you think. Be honest, but not mean or rude. I would love to hear what I can improve on, so don't hold back your criticism. Thanks so much!