Author's note: Hello everyone! Thanks again for the continued reviews and support! I truly love each and every one of you, and love writing for you guys.
"We should probably go brush our teeth," Hermione said, always one to enforce dental hygiene. Growing up, she was always taught to never go to bed without brushing her teeth.
"Okay," Ron agreed, but made no move to get up, and hugged her closer to his body.
"I'm serious, Ron! Dental hygiene is very important to me! My parents would be livid if they knew I went this long after a meal without cleaning my teeth!"
"Alright, alright," Ron sighed, sitting up and pulling her up with him.
"Can I wear your robe?" She asked, looking around the slightly messy room for Ron's robe.
"Why? I rather like how you look right now," Ron said, staring at her bare legs.
"Would you like to deal with George taking the mickey out of us if he runs into us looking like this?" she asked, gesturing at Ron's shirtless body and her scantily clad body.
"Good point," Ron agreed with a nod.
She wrapped herself in Ron's large robe, glancing in the floor length mirror and laughing out loud at how it seemed to swallow her up.
"Blimey! Where did you go?" Ron teased.
"Ha ha, very funny. Let's go," she said, grabbing his hand and steering him out the door and toward the loo.
They reached their destination and she spotted her toothbrush in the cup of toothbrushes immediately, being that it was bright pink in contrast to the other boring colors. She had a quick flashback of the memories of brushing her teeth every morning and night in the tent; her brightly colored toothbrush always stood out against Ron's and Harry's. She felt ridiculous, but after months on the run with two boys she had begun to go out of her way to still feel like a girl. Changing her toothbrush color to pink, spritzing some perfume on every morning, applying some lip gloss to her chapped lips, wearing frilly pajamas- all were attempts to try to retain some of her femininity.
"Ah, here you go. Good old pinky," Ron said, grabbing her toothbrush and handing it to her.
"How did you know this one is mine?" Hermione asked.
"Well, it only sat in the loo of the tent every single day. I figured it wasn't Harry's," Ron replied.
"Oh. Of course," she said, reaching for the toothpaste and putting some on her brush before running it under the tap and beginning to clean her teeth. She sat on the ledge of the tub, and watched Ron as he did the same with his own toothbrush.
Ron leaned against the door, smiling at her despite the fact that the toothbrush in his mouth made it more difficult for him to do so.
"What?" She asked.
"Nothing, you just look so adorable sitting there in my robe, Hermione," Ron answered.
She answered him with a smile and stood up to spit into the sink. Ron did the same, and she grabbed his hand to make their way back to his room. She opened the door quietly, only to immediately bump into someone standing directly outside of the loo.
"Oh!" The person let out a small feminine gasp. Hermione backed up slightly, registering that it was Fleur who was standing on the landing. " 'ermione! Sorry!"
"Don't worry about it, Fleur. What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, surprised to see Fleur wandering around the burrow when she and Bill had officially moved back into Shell Cottage.
"William spent ze night talking to Papa Weasley. Zey are steel talking, actually. I told William zat we should just stay 'ere tonight."
Hermione nodded, glancing at Ron to see if he looked as though he understood why Bill and his father would be up talking so late. Ron, however, seemed to be in some sort of an awkward trance, desperately trying to tear his eyes away from Fleur while simultaneously unable to look away.
Confused, Hermione looked back at Fleur, and only just registered the Veela's attire. She wore a white satin nightgown that ended high on her thigh and cut down low on her chest, barely covering her breasts. From the looks of it, that was all that she was wearing.
"Is Mr. Wesley alright, Fleur?" Hermione asked, sending Ron a meaningful look.
"I do not zink so," Fleur admitted, her beautiful smile turning down into a pretty frown.
That seemed to snap Ron out of his trance. "What's wrong with Dad?" He asked, now looking Fleur in the eyes.
"I zink zat 'e 'as been over worked. 'E would never admeet eet, but zat is what William zinks. Ze Ministry 'as added more 'ours, and cut 'is pay," Fleur answered, her frown turning into a somehow beautiful grimace.
"What? They can't do that!" Ron admonished a bit too loudly.
"Ron! Shh! You'll wake everyone up!" Hermione hissed. "Let's allow Fleur to return to bed. Why don't you ask Bill about this tomorrow?"
"Yeah, alright," Ron reluctantly agreed, turning away from the two women and walking back to his room alone. Hermione stared at his retreating figure, annoyed.
"Do not be so upset, 'ermione. I zink zat was just ze Weasley temper. 'e will calm down," Fleur spoke up quietly.
Hermione smiled at her. "Thanks, Fleur. Goodnight." Fleur smiled back, and Hermione turned, following Ron. However, she became more and more annoyed with each step that she took, not at all comforted by Fleur's words. How dare Ron have the nerve to oggle Fleur right in front of her and then rudely leave?
Suddenly, she felt more sad than annoyed. Ron had been staring at Fleur. Unable to take his eyes off of her, by the looks of it. She now felt ridiculous in Ron's big flannel robe compared to Fleur in her sexy nightgown. How could she ever measure up to that?
She burst into Ron's room, where he sat on the window sill with his head in his hands. "What, exactly, was that Ron?" She inquired, alluding to his abrupt departure.
Ron sighed. "I don't want to deal with a lecture right now, Hermione."
"A lecture? So I'm just supposed to keep my mouth shut when you do something that upsets me?"
Ron's features softened. "Look, I'm sorry. I know I was rude, but you know that I can get like that sometimes."
"Am I just supposed to take the explanation that you can 'get like that sometimes' as an excuse?" She bit back, still upset.
"Bloody hell, Hermione! I said I was sorry! It's not that big of a deal! I'm sure Fleur doesn't give a flying fuck about me walking away; she was probably focussed on getting back and warming up the bed for Bill!"
"What makes you so sure about that, Ron? Are you sure you were paying enough attention to her?" Hermione spat.
The look of annoyance slipped off of Ron's face and was replaced by one of confusion. "What?" He asked.
"You heard me, Ron," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting down roughly on Ron's bed.
"Yeah, but what the bloody hell are you on about?"
"You know what I'm on about."
"No. I really don't."
"Ron! How can you not know what I'm talking about!?" She exclaimed.
"Hermione, we both know how thick I can be. Can you just bloody tell me?"
"Fine! Let's just say that if you put half as much effort into studying your school books as you did studying Fleur's breasts just now, you might have actually been a decent student!" She fumed.
"Oh. Er, yeah," Ron replied, shrugging.
"That's all you have to say!?"
"Don't be so mad, Hermione! You're not a man; you don't understand how strong her powers can be. I know you must have read plenty about it, though. She was probably turning on the charm for Bill when he got back to the room. Trust me, I don't like the fact that sometimes I can't control looking at my sister-in-law like that." Ron added in a tone of disgust.
Hermione froze, realizing that she had overreacted. "I'm sorry Ron. I shouldn't have been so short with you. I guess I just didn't like you looking at another woman. And considering that it was Fleur…"
"Why does it matter that it was Fleur?"
Hermione almost rolled her eyes. He really could be thick. "She's stunningly beautiful."
"Well, I know. That's not a big surprise, is it? She's part Veela."
"Compared to her, I'm so plain-"
"Hermione, you're honestly the most beautiful woman in the world to me," Ron interjected with quiet certainty, cutting her off.
"Oh please, Ron-"
"I mean it!" He exclaimed, cutting her off again. "So stop thinking that you're not, because you are!"
"Ron, shh! You'll wake the whole house!" She hissed.
"Alright, alright. But you have to believe me when I say I think that you're the most beautiful woman in the world, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed, standing up from her seat on the bed and walking toward him. She didn't agree with him, but she believed that he truly thought so. She sat down on Ron's lap and crossed her arms around his neck, remembering that he was sitting on the window sill because he had been upset. "Are you okay?" She asked.
Ron sighed again. "I don't think so. How could I have not realized that Dad has been working himself to the bone? And now they've cut his pay? How can they do that?"
"Well, they probably have to budget money to pay for different types of repairs, now that the war is over," Hermione reasoned.
"I don't bloody care! He deserves a fucking raise, with everything that he has done for them!"
"I know," Hermione agreed, laying her head against Ron's chest and rubbing his back soothingly.
"I have to pitch in somehow. I have to help my parents," Ron said fiercely.
"Ron, you don't have to do anything just yet. We haven't even been back a month. You being here is gift enough for them," Hermione said quietly, trying to calm him down.
"No, Hermione. I have to start helping them as soon as I can. I was thinking, when George finally starts the shop up again he'll need some help, right? Maybe I can help him out for the summer, and then I can give my earnings to Mum and Dad to help them out."
"Ron! That's a great idea! I'm sure George would be happy to have your help!"
"You wouldn't be embarrassed to have a boyfriend who works in a joke shop?" Ron asked.
"Of course not, Ron. I would be so proud of you," she answered. "I don't care what you do. I just want you to be happy."
"Okay. I'll bring it up to George tomorrow. I'm sure he wouldn't object to having some help for the summer," he said, giving her a squeeze.
For the first time, she wondered what would happen when the summer ended. Ron had said he wanted to help George for the summer, but what about after that? The summer would end, and then what would happen with her and Ron? They couldn't stay at the burrow forever, hiding from their problems and sneaking around Mrs. Weasley to cuddle together at night. For the first time in a long time, she was able to visualize herself alive months ahead from where she was now. Before, she had always been so concentrated on surviving another day. Now that there were days, weeks, months, and years easily foreseeable, it was all so overwhelming.
"Ron, once the summer is over, what do you think is going to happen to us?"
"What do you mean? Reckon we'll still be together, but it will be colder."
She giggled, but continued. "I'm serious, Ron. I want to go back to school. Don't you think that's what we should do?"
Ron suddenly looked uneasy. "You should," he replied, breaking eye contact with her and looking down.
"What do you mean? You should too! We need to finish our education! We said we would go back when all of this was over, remember?" She and Ron had talked about their dropping out of school last summer before they had collected Harry from Privet Drive. They both had agreed that the logical thing to do when everything was over would be to finish up seventh year.
"I know, but everything is different now. I can't go back there, Hermione. Not where he…" Ron trailed off, but she knew that he was talking about Fred.
"Ron, it will be okay. Harry and I will be there for you."
"Harry's not going back either," Ron mumbled.
"Oh," she replied, not knowing what else to say.
"Yeah. He said that he just can't picture himself going back to being a schoolboy, you know? Shuffling around to classes, writing essays… it all seems kind of trivial now."
"Trivial? It's your education, Ron."
"Love, I don't disagree with you. I think that you should go back. In fact, I know you should. But you're the most brilliant witch to ever live, and you love school. It would be barmy if you didn't do all seven years. You know that Harry and I half-arsed everything, and you were dragging us to class most of the time. We won't get anything out of going back."
"But Ron, how will I be able to be apart from you?" She choked out, sniffing against his shoulder.
"It's going to be fine, love. We don't have to worry about it right now," Ron said, running his fingers through her hair.
"But it's going to happen, isn't it?" She asked, pulling back slightly and staring into his eyes.
"Yeah," Ron sighed. "Look, I can't stand to see you this upset. I can think about going back if you really want me-"
"No, Ron. I don't want you to be unhappy," she said, shaking her head. Ron scooped her up in his arms and carried her back over to the bed, laying her down and climbing in next to her. She grasped for his hand in the dark and grabbed it, giving it a squeeze. "I really hate the idea of being apart from you, Ron," Hermione whispered as she felt a tear slip down her cheek.
"Come here," Ron said, tugging her arm across his chest so that the entire front of her body was pressed against him. She pulled her leg up and draped it across his stomach."I didn't mean to bring it up to you like that. I didn't want to make you cry."
"It's not your fault," she said with sincerity.
"Still, I don't like being the cause of your tears; I love you so much," he said, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
She simply snuggled closer to him, feeling more tired by the second. She tried in vain to fight sleep, wanting more than anything to remain conscious; in Ron's arms and listening to him tell her how much he loved her instead of in whatever hellish nightmare awaited her. But sleep was inevitable, and she dozed off with Ron's arms still around her.
Author's note: I think that it is important for them to still have arguements; makes it more realistic. I'm always struck by Hermione's "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!" comment. She obviously wants to feel like a woman and wants Ron to notice her as a woman. Starving and fighting a war for a year while living with two boys must have taken a toll on some of the more feminine aspects of herself, and I've been trying to touch on that.