Ron chanced a furtive glance across the living room. She was still hidden behind her book. All he had seen of Hermione since she had come to stay with them that summer had been shielded by some book or other. She was obsessed with reading her textbooks for the following year, over and over until she knew them back to front. Even more obsessed than usual. He was starting to worry about her.

Ron returned to staring blankly at his knees. Harry was out in garden, probably moping on his own again. Maybe he should go and see if he was ok. Then again he'd probably rather be on his own. Like Hermione, Harry had been very quiet this summer, preferring to keep himself to himself. This had left Ron rather lonely but had also provided him with a lot of time to think and he'd made an important decision. He was just having trouble deciding what to do about it next.

At the end of the previous year Harry had somehow survived, just about, after coming face to face with You-Know-Who in the Ministry for Magic. He had also helplessly witnessed the coldblooded murder of his Godfather, Sirius. Ron and Hermione had not exactly come away unscathed and were obviously upset about Sirius too but nothing compared to Harry; Sirius was after all the closest thing he had to real family. All this had come a mere twelve months after Harry had witnessed You-Know-Who's return and the murder of Cedric Diggory and in Ron's opinion gave Harry more than good reason to want to be alone.

After the horrific events at the ministry Ron had decided life was too short. It was time he stopped procrastinating and told Hermione how he felt. They were about to embark on their most difficult and important year of school yet. If anything could get him through it he knew it would be Hermione. He had come to the conclusion that if there was even the slightest possibility that she might feel the same he wanted to know, so that even if he failed all his exams miserably at least be happy when he did. Alternatively, if she didn't feel the same, then he'd have a lot of studying to do to take his mind off it.

The only problem was how to tell her. Now seemed like the perfect opportunity. They were alone in the house. The other assorted members of Ron's family had gone to London, and Harry was outside, where he'd probably stay until it got dark or he was called in. But what should he say.

So deep in thought over his dilemma Ron hadn't realised he'd started staring at Hermione whilst thinking about her. Only when she lowered her book and gave a little squeak as she jumped, seeing him staring at her with a desperate and confused look on his face did he look away. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Are you ok Ron? Hermione asked, sounding slightly shocked but concerned.

"Yeah, fine," replied Ron. "I've just got stomach ache." He mentally kicked himself for not grasping the moment.

"Oh" said Hermione. "Ok."

Was that disappointment in her voice? Ron ventured another glance at her. As her face disappeared back behind her book he glimpsed her cheeks were a shade rosier than normal. Was it possible he'd made her blush? Maybe she was just warm. It was a hot day and they were sitting inside.

"Is it me or is it warm in here?" He chanced.

"No, I'm fine." She replied, her chocolate brown eyes appearing over the top of her book for a fleeting moment, disappearing again when she saw he was looking at her again.

Ron allowed himself a smirk. He had made her blush, twice. This was brilliant. Maybe she did like him after all.

"Do you want a drink?" He asked.

"Oh, yes please."

Ron stood up and made for the kitchen. As he past Hermione's seat he looked over the top of her book. She was chewing the corner of her bottom lip, concentrating, in the way that made Ron feel as though someone had shot a Jelly-Legs Jinx at him but though she was staring straight at her book, her eyes were fixed and not drifting from side to side following the words. She wasn't reading. He noted her cheeks beginning to flush again as she felt his eyes on her as he passed.

In the kitchen he filled two glasses with pumpkin juice, dropping a few cubes of ice into each before returning to the living room. As he passed Hermione her glass her soft fingers delicately brushed his and he felt his heart skip a beat as her eyes flickered up to meet his for an instant. It was only for a fraction of a second, if he'd blinked he'd have missed it but instead he felt his breath catch in his chest.

"Thanks" She said taking a sip. Ron noticed the way she pursed her lips as she withdrew the glass. They looked soft and inviting. He wished he had the courage to just lean down and kiss her, then he could just hope that she'd kiss him back and he wouldn't have to hear the words he dreaded. He became aware that he was standing over her and staring again. She looked distinctly uncomfortable with this, apparently fascinated by something on the wall opposite.

'This is it,' Ron decided, 'now or never.' He moved to the coffee table in the centre of the room, pulling it slightly towards Hermione and then sitting on the edge of it, directly in her line of sight. He summoned up every bit of his Gryffindor courage he hoped he must have in him somewhere and looked straight into her gentle eyes. Hermione flushed unmistakably at this, seeking anywhere else to look than at Ron. He took a deep breath.

"Actually, Hermione, there was something I wanted to talk to you about." He said as if he were casually carrying on a previous conversation.

"Oh" She replied meekly, still not looking at him.

Ron's courage failed and he looked down at his knees again. He cursed himself and wondered why he wasn't in Hufflepuff. Maybe if she was really interested in him he should make her wait a bit longer; after all he had been bloody patient with Hermione so far, looking on while she gallivanted about with Victor Krum at the Yule Ball. Ron shook his head as if physically shaking these images from his mind. He didn't want to think about it now. It would just lead to him starting another row. He was distracted from his thoughts as he felt Hermione's hand slip tenderly onto his arm.

"What is it Ron? Are you ok?" She asked so caringly. "Is it Harry?"

Typical. That's so Hermione, bringing Harry up now when he wanted her to be thinking about him. He could still feel a tingling warmth running through him from where her hand rested though and couldn't bring himself to be mad at her.

"No, not Harry, he's fine. Well…" Ron said with a glance towards the door, realising Harry was actually far from fine. "No, actually I wanted to talk about you."

"Me?" Hermione looked at him in disbelief.

"And me…you and me…us." Ron said suddenly realising what a bad idea this was and at the same time worrying if she had noticed, as he had just done, how high up his trousers swung around his ankles when he sat down.

"Us? What about us?" Hermione was staring at him wide-eyed as he glanced up.

"Actually, it doesn't matter. It's fine. I was being stupid." Any courage he might have found now positively quashed, Ron was sickened with himself for this utterly cowardly display and resolved to buy himself some Hufflepuff robes. He set his glass down and moved to stand up, shocked as Hermione did the same, sliding her hand around his arm to hold him a little more firmly behind his elbow. She looked terrified as she stared up into his eyes and Ron hated himself for scaring her.

"No, Ron, it's obviously important. What were you going to say?" Her eyes were fixed on his now and Ron felt like he would melt into them if she didn't look away soon. Then he noticed something he hadn't seen there before. Not when she had been looking at him at any rate. Was it…hope?

Hermione inched closer to him, setting her glass down on the table behind him. Ron felt her now empty hand slip into his, her skin soft against his. She was still staring into his eyes.

"What is it?" His chest was tightening, making it harder to breathe, whilst his heart rate doubled making him need to breathe more. He felt like he might implode if he didn't move soon but he didn't dare break the moment.

He felt like her eyes were boring into his, searching for what he had wanted to say. A small strand of hair had found its way into her face when she had leant to put her glass down and without thinking he lifted his free hand and brushed it gently back, tucking it behind her ear. Realising what he had done as his hand reached her ear his instant reaction was to withdraw it. He looked at her ready to apologise but saw that her eyes were closed. As she opened them again he noticed a twitch in the corner of her mouth and she started chewing her bottom lip again. It was too much for Ron.

He brought his hand round to cup the side of her face instead of retracting it, using his thumb to trace her delicate cheekbones. Her skin felt like silk to his touch. He brought his thumb down to her lips, which she stopped chewing immediately.

Ron pulled his other hand gently from Hermione's and moved it gently round to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. Her eyes were closed again and he could feel her trembling in his arms, her breath shaky and uneven. He had never seen her so close before; he could count the subtle freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could almost taste the smell of her hair. He leaned into her, his cheek brushing against hers and whispered in her ear.

"Is this ok?" Hermione gave a little whimper Ron took to mean yes. He slid his face around to hers, their noses touching. He could feel her breath on his lips. His heart was pounding in his chest. He was desperate for this to never end just in case he was imagining it. That or Hermione changed her mind, slapped him and never spoke to him again. With the hand on the small of her back Ron moved to pull her towards him.

Suddenly there was a cough from the doorway. Harry was standing there, a bemused smirk on his face. Hermione's eyes flew open in surprise and she had detached herself from Ron so fast it was as if she had been shocked. She stood for a moment, her breathing quick and uneven, looking panicked from Harry to Ron and back again. It was clear she was trying desperately to concoct some perfectly innocent excuse for Harry as to the situation he'd walked in on.

Ron wasn't sure what to say or do and so just stood looking confused. Harry looked at them both and started to chuckle to himself. Ron looked at him unsure, and then started to laugh himself. Hermione looked scandalised at the both of them, gave a shriek of frustration and ran from the room. The boys stopped laughing instantly, listening to Hermione stomp upstairs.

Ron closed his eyes as Hermione slammed her bedroom door above him. How was he supposed to fix it this time?

"Sorry mate." Harry said nervously from the doorway.

"Don't worry about it." Ron said flopping back down on his chair, exasperated.

"Women, right?" Harry offered.

"Yeah, bloody women." Ron sighed.