There must be something about true academics that caused them to inhabit dens of controlled chaos. Books were stacked on every surface of the small studio, some high enough to double as end tables. A stranger would see no apparent organization in these towering tomes, but Ron knew Hermione well enough to understand that she had a system. He closed the old, wood door and turned on another lamp.
"Be sure to turn that off when you leave," groused a low, feminine voce from behind a particularly impressive wall of books.
"It's a cave in here Hermione. You're going to wreck your eyes." A hand popped up from behind the wall and saluted his response with a single finger. "Yes, yes, I love you too, darling," he stated absentmindedly as he gathered up dirty tea cups and coffee mugs on his way to the kitchen area.
He heard a huff followed by the whirr of a computer shutting down. "I gave you those keys for emergencies. Not for you to pop in, willy-nilly and interrupt me while I'm working on my dissertation."
Ron gestured to the dishes he was in the process of cleaning. "From what I can see, this is an emergency. When was the last time you left that chair – aside from trips to the toilet or kitchen to fetch tea?"
She shrugged, removing her glasses and cleaning them with the hem of her over-sized college hoodie. His slight smile twisted into a frown as he noted the dark circles under her eyes and the limp tendrils of hair that had escaped her rather sloppy bun.
He sighed, put down the mug, dried his hands, and walked toward her. "This isn't healthy, Hermione. Davidson may be a hard-ass, but he can't mean for you to lock yourself away while you feed the beast."
"Well if he didn't mean for me to become a shut-in outside the classroom, then why the fuck did he tell me to rewrite the last two chapters I submitted and grade those fucking midterms?" She threw herself back into the office chair, nearly knocking over one of the stacks.
"I did tell you to go with Tempish." Ron leaned against the wall, observing his exhausted girlfriend.
"Tempish is an idiot. How the hell he managed to get tenured is one of life's greatest mysteries."
"That's unkind."
"Truth hurts."
Ron pushed off the wall and pulled Hermione out of her chair. "You have two options. One, you shower and change of your own volition; or two, I carry you into the bathroom and clean you myself." She scrunched her nose and gave him the stink-eye. "You smell. Truth hurts. Plus, you need proper food and socialization."
She crossed her arms and continued to glare at him. Their battle of wills was short-lived. She pushed him away as he moved to throw her over his shoulder like a sack of rice. The look she shot him as she stormed to the bathroom threatened physical harm.