Disclaimer: JK Rowlings, not mine, I'm just borrowing the characters for a little bit. The rating may change and the summary may change a bit.

She was reading, of course. Sitting in front of the fireplace her nose was buried deep inside a muggle novel, one of the many books that she went through less than weekly. She was already well into the final pages, and those were going fast as she read avidly.

There was a sudden rushing noise and a wind against her cheeks that her senses may have picked up but her brain dismissed, interested primarily in the final moments of the adventure playing out before her eyes. The accompanying, more alarming, flash of green she, too, ignored. She was, after all, a wizard, and a rather bright one at that, if she were in danger she'd know it; deep down she knew what this was anyways.

But she was in danger. A dark figure was whirling out of the emerald embers, looming up, much taller than her fireplace. Crashing forward, still spinning madly, the figure hurtled out through the small opening.

Hermione didn't notice her intruder until well after it was too late. He plowed straight into her, knocking her backwards, sprawling onto the couch she had been so neatly perched upon. Her first instinct was to scream but the air had been crushed from her lungs, her second was to go for her wand.

But recognition set in, fortunately, before she could reach her wand and do any real damage.

"Ron?!" She cried. "What are you doing?!" There was a well-disguised layer of shaking beneath her reprimand.

"I'm sorry!" Ron replied sincerely, the quiver in her voice was not lost on him; after all he was one of her best mates.

"You scared me half to death! You're lucky my parents weren't in here!"

"Really I am sorry, Hermione, I wasn't expecting your fireplace to be so small; I lost my balance!"

"It's a muggle fireplace!" She exclaimed sharply, she paused to take a deep, shuddering breath, to get a grip on herself, to retrieve control. "Reallty, Ron, if you'd just take muggle studies – "

"Well, now we know you're feeling better." He and his lopsided grin down at her cut her short. "It's good to see you," he added tentatively. "The yelling and screaming just makes it more realistic. The only thing missing is – "

"My book!" Hermione exclaimed, suddenly panicked again and ready to jump up. As she shifted something pressed against her tender ribs and she winced visibly.

"Oh! Did I hurt you, too?" Ron was suddenly full of concern, moving as though to inspect it.

However, in between the original fear and the apologizing both young wizards had forgotten that, in sending Hermione sailing on his flight out of the fireplace, Ron also succeeded in pinning her flat against the couch. As the knowledge finally struck them their eyes jerked to one another, staring in surprise and awe into the sparkling, remarkably close, eyes of one another. Whether from the fire, the exertion, or possibly the startling closeness that they were both becoming acutely aware of, both Ron and Hermione's faces were flushed, the tips of Ron's ears turning a deep shade of crimson. Yet, despite their embarrassment, neither seemed uncomfortable. Best mates for years they were already close; there was nothing between them, no secrets or awkward silent moments. It was just that now, all of a sudden, there literally was very little between them. Somehow, though neither of them traced the root of their lingering eyes and hesitance to pull away, neither of them wanted to move, neither of them wanted to end this unexpected moment they were sharing.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron finally managed, although his voice sounded slightly hoarse. Shifting his weight gingerly he rolled so that instead of lying directly on top of her he was situated beside her, propped up on one elbow. He looked her over quickly, "Guess I really was lucky that your parents weren't in here."

Hermione smirked, purposefully ignoring the look, "It's perfectly all right, Ron. My family already knows that you're a klutz anyways." She said the joke gently so as not to ignite another of their sharp rounds of bickering. She couldn't help her own wide smile spreading across her face. "And it's nice to see you, too."

"Well, I was going to use the felly – "

"-telly-"

"- phone, but I thought it might be nice to pop in and actually see you†I didn't know that your fireplace would be so different from ours."

"Well I'm sorry you don't take muggle studies," she retorted cheerfully. She was too pleased to see him, too comfortable lying so close next to him, cuddling subconsciously a little closer, to let any of their usual smart retorts and squabbling arise.

"I'm not! What a useless class! C'mon I already have my dad anyways, he's obsessed with muggles, and I have you, I know plenty!"

"Of course, like all about our various kinds of fireplaces."

He rolled his eyes, "oh shutup. I get along alright in any case."

"I know," she reassured quickly, touching his arm, "I'm just bugging you."

He grinned, "I know," he chorused back at her. "This was much better than that eckletric thing at Harry's placeâ€It was worth it though, if only to let Fred and George loose on that git of a cousin of his, what a prat."

Hermione was trying desperately to stifle a giggle while still looking disapproving. In reality she had heard all about the Dursleys and that particular incident. In fact she was rather pleased to hear them get something that they deserved. Next time Dudley ran into someone with flaming red hair like the Weasleys she was sure he would be so wrapped up in covering all the bases and having one hand clapped protectively over his tong and the other trying to conceal his gigantic arse he wouldn't remember to run away.

Ron seemed to be thinking something along the same lines as he chuckled lightly to himself. He gleefully noted the amused look on his friends face as well. "Moody gave then a proper fright at the beginning of this summer too! Harry should have had a better time of it this summer, in any case we haven't heard anything yet. Should soon though! We're going to retrieve him in a couple of days!" He looked at Hermione thoughtfully for a second, "You know, I just wish for once I could know something that you don't though!" He shook his head, "Muggle fireplaces, honestly."

She laughed, "Oh Ron, you know plenty that I don't."

He arched a skeptical eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied, mimicking his tone. "Like: why are you here."

"What?" he gasped in mock offense. "Visiting my best mate isn't good a reason enough?"

She mimicked his skeptical eyebrow.

"Smartass," he murmured under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Hermione's eyebrows shot up again; nonetheless she was torn between laughter and indignation.

Taking quick measures to avoid a row and still keep the upper hand Ron grabbed her promptly about the waist, pinching, "You heard me!" â€Or maybe it was just an excuse to make her laugh

Either way it worked as Hermione convulse, lashing out to try and stave him off, all the while laughing uncontrollably. Ron burst out laughing himself, enjoying the sight of the dignified Hermione Granger laughing like a little child battling for retaliation and freedom. Responding spasmodically to the vengeful fingers that wrapped themselves mercilessly around his own sides Ron was laughing to a different tune.

In one tremendous effort both teenagers collapsed off the couch, hitting the floor with a thump.

"Bloody hell," Ron rubbed his elbow.

"Serves you right Ronald Weasley." She was still chuckling.

"Sadist! I think I'm bleeding"

"Oh you are not," she retorted, although she raised herself and shuffled forward to inspect it as well. "Well†maybe a little. Would you like a band aid?"

Ron grinned up at her, noting both the tease and the apology in her voice. "Thanks Mione, but I think I'll live."

"Oh good, I was worried," she replied, her voice was monotone.

"You sound like Fred," Ron mused.

"Well you sound like George," Hermione scoffed. "And you can relay that insult to them when you get back."

"Why don't you tell them yourself?"

"Hmm?" The teasing was gone and this request sounded more earnest.

"Want to come stay at the burrow with us for the last bit of summer?" Ron asked. "Then you can come with us to King's Cross, it might be easier."

Hermione laughed, "I knew there was a motive for you to come here! I'd love to, Ron," she added more sincerely. "I mean, I'll have to ask my parents but I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

As if on que both Hermione and Ron looked up to the sound of feet coming across the floor. Moments later a curious but, having heard the laughter, unconcerned Mr. Granger popped his head over the couch, peering down at the kids on the floor.

"Hullo, Ron," he said warmly. "Always nice to see you. You cam from the fireplace I suppose?"

"Floo powder, Dad."

"Right, that emerald stuff." He took his daughters correction in stride, probably quite used to it. "Have you come to collect my daughter?"

Ron hesitated momentarily. "Well, if it's okay with you. I'm supposed to invite Hermione to the burrow for the last bit of summer."

"Oh lovely," Mrs. Granger's head appeared beside her husbands. "If you'd like to Hermione I suspect you'd best start packing your trunk."

Hermione smiled happily, "Thanks, mum!"

Mrs. Granger returned the smile cheerfully. "We've just got dinner on, Ron, if you'd like to have a bite to eat before you head off."

"That would be great, Mrs. Granger, thanks!" Ron replied enthusiastically, never missing a chance with food.

"Not at all, dear," she waved off his thanks, "you take care of our daughter so much; this is nothing. It should all be ready by the time you've packed up."

"Right then," Mr. Granger nodded, turning with his wife to return to the kitchen. He turned back abruptly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "â€Are you two on the floor?"

Hermione laughed lightly, shaking off his question and jumping to her feet, pulling Ron up with her. "We fell," she replied, offering no other explanation.

Mr. Granger just shook his head, smiling slightly and heading back towards the kitchen, "Alright."

"C'mon Ron," Hermione was already leading the way up towards her room. "I should only be a second."