Ron scowled darkly at fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, his ears deaf to the conversation Harry and Hermione were having behind him. He'd been like that for hours since the 2 of them had been invited to Slughorn's party, and he hadn't. It wasn't that he wanted to go to the party and have to sit with Slughorn through what would surely be a boring meal; he just didn't want to be abandoned in the common room whilst his friends went gallivanting off without him.

Hermione tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and began to shift nervously waiting for Cormac McLaggen to appear. She'd only asked him because Ron had....well... Ron had done exactly what she'd hoped he'd do, all but in the wrong way.

When she'd gone to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum in their fourth year, she'd wanted Ron to be jealous. She'd wanted him to fight Krum for her, even though she knew he wouldn't have stood much chance against Krum...but that wasn't the point. She wanted Ron to care about her enough that he would do anything- anything at all- to get her attention. Anything to be able to tell her how he felt.

She would have been able to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with him, if he hadn't insisted on sulking because Ginny had told him about Hermione kissing Krum. It was one of the few times Hermione wished she hadn't chosen to confide in Ron's younger sister. Although Ginny was sensible, and knew what she was meant to keep secret, sometimes the younger sister attitude came tumbling out; often along with the temper which was as fiery as her long red hair.

Feeling her feet beginning to ache slightly, Hermione sat in a chair near the fire and tried to catch Ron's eye. He studiously avoided her gaze.

She sighed softly, so softly Ron didn't notice, and turned to stare at the fire as it burnt slowly. If she was less cowardly she'd have spoken by now, but she was scared. She was scared of Ron shooting her down before she'd had a chance to finish what she wanted to say. And Hermione, as much as she cared about him, wasn't about to break him and Lavender up. That was one mistake Ron would have to recognise by himself.

Even though Hermione knew she'd never say it, she began to ponder what she'd say to him. If she had the courage, or at least Ron, she'd be able to say it. She'd be able to tell Ron about how his hair reminded her of a summer's day, and not just because of its vibrant colour, but because of the smell. Mrs. Weasley's home concocted shampoo smelt of summer. Of flowers, the morning dew and a brook. It smelt comforting.

Hermione allowed herself to drift into her memories, away from Hogwarts and to a day at the Burrow she wouldn't forget- the same summer she'd help Ron to get the lawn mower working.

"DON'T YOU DARE RONALD!" Hermione shrieked, jumping behind a tumbledown wall, as Ron hared after her holding a watering can.

It was a blisteringly hot day, and all of the Weasley children were outside, along with Harry and Hermione who had once again joined the Weasley's for a few weeks of the holidays,

"Aw c'mon, 'Mione!" Ron wailed, holding the watering can behind his back, "It's not like it's gonna hurt!"

"It's COLD, Ron!" Hermione moaned, kneeling up to look over the wall at Ron. Her hair was tousled and fell in a messy wave across her flushed face, and her t-shirt was drenched from the countless soakings the boys had already given her. Behind the wall, Ron knew her knees were grass stained from the countless tumbles made in her bid to escape the watering cans and water pistols.

Ron stared at her for a moment, pushing his hair back from his face.

"Ok, ok..." he grimaced, his face falling as the game stopped. Or so Hermione thought.

Hermione stood up and Ron tipped the watering can over her head.

Hermione screamed and leapt at Ron in mock anger. With all her strength, she tried to wrestle him to the ground, Ron fought hard to stop laughing at Hermione's feeble efforts; her attempts to push him down, only resulted in him holding her more firmly.

Eventually, Hermione stopped fighting against Ron and leant her chin on his head. As she did so, she felt his hair soft against her skin, and smelt...she smelt so much all at once that all she could do was break out into a smile.

"Ron! Hermione! Mum wants you in for dinner now!" Fred yelled out the window.

Slowly, Ron lowered Hermione and they stared at each other for a moment, before walking in silence back to the house.

Hermione looked up from the fireplace to see Ron still hadn't moved.

"Ron, I..." she started, but was cut off as Lavender bounded over and plopped herself in Ron's lap.

"Hello my precious won-won!" she cooed, before proceeding to stick her tongue down his throat.

Hermione sighed loudly, and made a lot of noise as she stomped over to the portrait hole to wait for McLaggen. Hopefully he wouldn't take long, as she really needed to get away from here, where one of her best friends was sat canoodling a girl who had about as much brains as the Whomping Willow.