Here is Part Two! I was going to add it to the piece I posted early because it ended up being kind of short, but I wanted to make sure everyone still got a notification. Enjoy!

Do I have to spell it out for you or scream it in your face?

"You did what?" Harry yelled through the flames. Ron was unsure what to do after Hermione left. He hadn't expected the morning to go the way it had- not that he minded what happened. He had decided to Floo Harry for advice.

"We hooked up," Ron repeated for a flabbergasted Harry.

"What do you mean hooked up? Like you made out or-"

"We had sex!" Ron shouted pulling his hands through hair then resting them on his face. "One minute we were fighting and the next minute we were fucking. I didn't know what to do, mate," he continued with his head in his hands.

"Clearly, you didn't need my help." Harry laughed goodnaturedly at Ron.

"Yeah well, now I don't know what to do. I mean, what do I say to her after that?"
"How's another go?" Harry lifted his eyebrows suggestively. He was in too good of mood for Ron's crisis and could not take the situation seriously.

"Very funny, Harry."

"Harry, where did you put the-" came a familiar female voice from the background. Ginny stopped down and popped her head into the fire next to Harry's.

Harry looked at her and explained. "Ron shagged Hermione last night and now he doesn't know what to do about it."

"How's about another go?" Ginny gave a wink and laughed. Harry grinned at her proudly as Ron watched their sickening display.

"Gin, I'm just going to pretend you're not at Harry's house right now. Harry, I really don't know what to do here. Do I ask her out? Do I pretend it didn't happen?
"Of course you ask her out," Ginny said ignoring Ron's prior statement entirely. "She's been waiting for this for age."

"She has?" Ron looked at her confused. Hermione had avoided him with great care for nearly five years now, so why would she suddenly want to date?

"Yes," Ginny went on. "She hasn't stopped talking about you since that day in the lift."

"Are you sure?"

"Just ask her out. What's the worst that could happen- you start another fight and have another go at it?"

"You both are useless. I'm sick of the pair of you," Ron said to Harry's joke. He ended the connection as Harry and Ginny continued to laugh at his demise.

Taking a seat back at the kitchen table, Ron gave a frustrated groan and let his head fall heavy in his hands. He honestly didn't know what to do with Hermione. All he did know is that he wouldn't be able to use his kitchen counter again without getting hard.

He should have talked to her this morning when she looked like she had something to say. Instead he had shut it down like he always does. He couldn't deal with the emotional baggage. Why couldn't they be together without all the drama? He decided to shower while he hashed out his thoughts.

Soon, Ron emerged from the steam feeling fresh. He had decided to go talk to Hermione. He needed to tell her how he felt, and he wanted it to be clear. Quickly, Ron dressed in one of his better outfits, but stopped as he remembered that morning.

Throwing off his button down shirt, Ron ran back into the kitchen and grabbed his Chudley Cannons t-shirt off the dusty floor. He shook it out and then pulled it on. Where the shirt had swallowed Hermione, the fabric stretched across Ron's chest and broad shoulders. It was perfect. He'd show up ready to remind her about how much she means to him. Rowing or not, he loved her and couldn't stand another minute without her.

Shoving on some shoes and grabbing his wand, Ron was ready to tell her how he felt. There was only one problem. He didn't know where she lived. If she had moved in the last few years he had no idea where too. Thinking better of it, he decided to go through the Floo Network instead of Apparating- much safer when you don't know where you're going.

Stooping into his small fireplace, Ron grabbed a hand full of gritty Floo Powder, tossed the substance into the fire, and yelled, "Hermione Granger's flat." The room spun and swirled until he stopped abruptly in a flat that was all too familiar.

Hermione hadn't moved at all. She still lived in the same small flat in London. Even the furniture hadn't moved around since he'd last been there. Her arm chair was in the exact spot against the wall by the door where Ron had dropped it after helping her carry it up three flights of stairs. He'd begged her to use magic, but she simply wouldn't have it in the middle of London at her new home.

He smiled at the memory and crawled out of her fireplace. He missed her so much. He wanted to be a part of her life again. He wanted to fight with her about the use of magic. He wanted to hold her in his arms while she made him watch something called a telly. He needed her.

Brushing off some soote, Ron called out for her. "Hermione, where are you?"
He could feel himself grinning uncontrollably. She was going to be so surprised. Ron walked across the living room and pushed on the kitchen's swinging door. As he was walking in he began to call her again, "'Mione, I came over to tell you-"

Ron was cut off in shock. Hermione was in the kitchen after all, but she wasn't alone.

Hermione was standing there in a towel her curls dripping water onto the tile floor as she kissed Neville Longbottom right in front of Ron.