Shield Of Invisibility

By Chinesemoon

A/N: As my sister pointed out a few days ago, I haven't written any Ron/Hermione fluff recently. As requested - 'tis delivered! Not my best… another 30 minute fic! Enjoy!

Dedicated to Magical Me, otherwise known as my sister, Katie.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…funny thing…

Hermione tapped her foot on the red carpet of the Gryffindor Common Room. The flames which had recently illuminated her face in an orange glow, were now extinguished from the mantel next to her chair. Her copy of Hogwarts, A History lay closed for once on the coffee table. The wind outside howled and blew against the window panes.

Now feeling slightly irritated, Hermione stood up and turned around in an impatient attempt to look about the large deserted Common Room. No one was in sight, which was not odd as it was, after all, going on two in the morning.

"Oh for goodness sakes," Hermione muttered to herself. "Can't even trust him for one thing… couldn't get over his stubborn attitude for one minute… Harry could really get hurt."

With a heavy sigh, Hermione made her way slowly through the sea of arm chairs and over to the Boy's staircase. If you wanted something, you'd better go get it, she told herself. Right now she wanted Ron Weasley to be down in that common room as he had promised last night.

She clamored up the stairs shaking her head and muttering to herself. "Honestly, with something this import…would think he would remember…"

Hermione took the stairs at a faster pace. She was wasting time. Every second counted as valuable research time.

Her muttering promptly seized when she ran head long into a very solid, very warm object. Hermione gave a soft "oh" of surprise and looked up into the shadowed face of Ron.

"Bloody hell," Ron panted, sounding startled. "What are you doing, lurking about?"

"I was coming up to get you," Hermione retorted. "Because you're half an hour late."

Ron took her by the arm and led her down the stairs. He let out a breath, and tucked a bulge of fabric under his arm. Hermione tried to push several sarcastic comments from her mind. They needed to concentrate on more important things.

"I see you got the cloak," Hermione said, stealing a glance at Ron as they made their way across the dimly lit common room. "Didn't have any troubling getting it, I presume."

"You presume correctly, as usual," Ron swung open the portrait hole and climbed out. "I reckon they'll never know we were gone.

Hermione climbed out after him and looked around carefully. "This has to be done tactfully," she said to him quietly. "or else we'll get caught."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said, unfolding the cloak. He bite his lip and stepped closer to Hermione. He tried very hard to look calm, but Hermione could clearly place the look of embarrassment on his face. He threw the cloak over Hermione and himself, creating a mask of invisibility over them. They made their way down the corridor, always moving slowly as to not make a sound. It was risky, them being out now.

"You hear something?" Ron whispered, keeping in step not more than a few inches from Hermione back.

"You're being paranoid," Hermione whispered back. "Besides, it's not much farther to the library."

"Remind me again why we have to do this in the middle of the night."

"I told you," Hermione hissed. "We have to look up books in the restricted section. You reckon Ms. Pince will just let us waltz right up there and snoop about?"

"I thought you'd already read that whole library twice," Ron whispered again to her. She chose to ignore his comment and continued to lead the way to the library. It didn't take them long to get there. Ron was not surprised Hermione knew a quick route. She practically lived there anyway, now that it was forth year. Sometimes he wished he'd have enough nerve to tell her to lighten up and have some fun for once. He didn't dare do that; he knew she'd only bark at him. "Ron," she'd say, "Are you mad? It's only one year from the O.W.L.s!"

"Right," The single word declared that Hermione thought it now safe to remove the cloak. Ron pulled it off, and as was usually his habit in the library, turned to her and awaited instructions.

"You search this shelf," Hermione said, pointing to a startlingly high book case. Ron looked up at it fearfully and whimpered. This will take all night…

Hermione took to the opposite shelf and began searching. Every few minutes she'd look over her shoulders and whispered for him to take care to look for books concerning magical water creatures, as they were looking for something Harry could use in the second task.

Ron began to be very annoyed after thirty minutes of searching. It was to no avail, for he hadn't found a single book on anything useful. His irritation was made worse by the fact that Hermione was carrying a dozen books in her arms to the nearest table. Ron, begrudgingly, followed her.

"Haven't found a bloody thing," He hissed, ill- tempered. He sat down heavily and took the book Hermione shoved at him.

"Harry needs some way to breathe under water," Hermione said over the top of a book. Her eyes lingered on Ron for a breath of a second. Ron looked up at her but she had already returned to her thick volume of Magical Monsters: Fact or Fiction?

"Bollocks," Ron said after another forty-five minutes. "I cannot find one bloody thing. None of these books are helpful!"

"Don't swear, Ron," Hermione sniffed, indignant. "And you're probably not looking properly."

"I am so looking properly," Ron said.

"Well you couldn't be, Ron," Hermione frowned. "Because you've just been sitting there the whole time, staring at me."

Ron felt his ears redden. He sputtered several times. Words escaped him as he stared at his bushy hared friend. He was mad and annoyed.

This was probably because the knowledge that she was right was nagging at him.

"Yeah right," Ron finally managed to get out. "You've got your little Vicky to do that."

Hermione shut her book with a snap. Dust flew into the air, and she unwittingly inhaled it. She frowned; an expression of disbelief was slapped across her face. He knew at once that he'd struck a nerve.

"Ron, do NOT call him that!" She shot back. "How dare you—"

"How dare I?" Ron barked. "ME? You're the one fraternizing—"

"I am not Ron," Hermione ground out. "You know I want Harry to win! Why else would I be down here for? I'll tell you – it isn't for your lovely company!"

Ron felt his mouth hanging open. His heart hadn't pounded so hard since the Yule Ball. Ever since he saw Hermione with Viktor Krum a few weeks ago, an odd sense of jealousy had taken a hold of him. He tried to ward it off, but still it returned, just like a bad dream. Those pale blue dress robes, that brown hair in a bun – the vision of unexpected beauty – accompanied by that rat traitor, Krum!

"I don't care what you think of my company!" Ron shouted. He was no longer bothering to keep his voice down. "In fact, I don't care what you think of me!"

"Well, good," Hermione sputtered. "Because I don't care about—"

The sound of footsteps approaching silenced them both. Ron shot Hermione a worried look and they both stood hurriedly. Ron wasted no time in draping them in the cloak. Moments later, a lantern appeared with an arm, and soon, Filch.

They edged their way to a shelf. The footsteps were coming closer to them. The light was getting brighter, and both their breathing was getting heavier.

Ron didn't stop to think when he saw Filch enter the narrow aisle they were hiding in. His long arms reached down to her waist and pulled her close to his body. She hit against him with a thud but neither of them dared to even blink.

Filch continued half way down the aisle. Ron's hand slipped father down to a shocking point bellow her waist. His breath caught in his throat as he pulled her as close to him as he could without making noise. He had no choice but to look directly down at her face.

Even in the pale light of the lantern, he could see her flushed face. He could feel her

chest moving as she breathed. Heat was radiating off Ron's face. He wasn't sure if the beads of sweat trickling down his neck were the blame of Filch or his best friend.

Bloody hell, she smelled good. Since when did she smell so good? How did she feel so soft and warm? Gods of mighty, Filch was coming closer.

The caretaker sniffed the air, as if trying to smell the presence of a guilty student. He stretched his hands out in front of him suspiciously. Ron felt Hermione tighten her grip on his shoulder.

Filch finally gave up and limped out of the aisle, much to their relief. They both let out the air they had been holding in their lungs. Ron quickly removed his hands from Hermione.

"Er… sorry."

"It's okay. It… wasn't your fault."

"Right," Ron said, awkwardly. He could still smell her cinnamon scented hair near his nose. "Maybe we should… call it a night."

Hermione looked down. They were still standing extremely close. It was one of the few times he had ever seen her so loft for words.

"Yeah, r-reckon so."

She moved away from him but he grabbed her arm and stopped her. She looked mildly surprised and frowned up at him.

"Ron, what—"

He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He wanted to tell her what he felt, and how hard his heart was pounding. He wanted to tell her how he could barely breathe, having her so close, and how her hair smelled better than anything he'd ever known. But he said none of this.

"Hermione," Ron's voice came out more of a croak. "I…"

She looked up at him expectantly.

"I'm sorry for what I said – you know – about Vicky."

"Ron," she sighed. She shook her head and said nothing for a moment. "I would never help Viktor."

"I know, I guess. It's just… oh, I don't know."

"If there's one thing you should know, it's that I'm a loyal friend," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow. "Not only to Harry – but also to you."

He knew his face must have turned a brilliant shade of magenta, for she was now smiling at him crookedly.

"Come on, Ron," she said. "Let's go to bed."

They walked off toward the door to the library but Ron noticed that they stood closer than when they first came in.

FIN