A/N: Yay for the people who've recently jumped into this fic! Welcome. And yay for those who've followed all the way, too. Hehe. I'm trying to get a balance of fluff and other stuff (as promised) … bear with me. ~born a house cat~ Shez … PS – The 'R' rating's always been a 'just in case' issue, SweetestThing … I guess I'm gradually earning it. :)

~

Ron came down the common room stairs at half past eleven to find Harry pacing in front of the entry. He looked up sharply when Ron appeared, and ran a hand through his already untidy hair.

"Ready?" he said shortly.

"Yeah. Ready as I'll ever be."

"Can't believe you're doing this. Got your wand?"

"In my pocket. Got your cloak?"

Harry reached over and picked it up from an armchair. "Got it."

"Well then – let's go."

He swung the cloak over them both and they went quietly out into the dark school corridors.

It was strange. After a period of anger, followed by a period of panic, Ron had descended into a tranquil calm. He was going to fight Malfoy, properly, after so many years of putting up with his rubbish. It might be an end to all their problems – maybe Malfoy would leave the school.

And maybe that was a little hopeful.

Still, it could stop him hounding after Hermione. Ron felt a twitch above his eye just thinking about that. It wasn't like he was an especially jealous person. It was more Malfoy's expression when he looked at his girlfriend. Somehow calculating, hungry –

Predatory. That's what it was. Predatory.

"Harry," he whispered. "Are we anywhere near the Room of Requirement yet?"

"Another floor," Harry replied, under his breath.

"Mrs Norris?"

"Shit, I forgot the map!"

"I don't think she's around tonight."

"Don't tempt fate."

"Hello?" came a quiet voice, echoing softly around the walls. Harry stopped and stiffened. Ron stopped too, and watched him anxiously.

"What?" he hissed.

Ginny, Harry mouthed.

"What do we do?" A little desperation was edging past the calm now. What the hell was Ginny doing out here?

"Ron? If you're here, will you just come out please?"

"Don't," Ron muttered firmly, and Harry bit his lip. "Don't," he insisted once more.

"Harry?" she called then, and Harry closed his eyes, resigned. He couldn't ignore her. Ron felt his stomach drop as he threw the cloak off and turned to face Ginny.

"Hey Gin," he said weakly, and she didn't move, staring at them. Ron rubbed the back of his neck, feeling distinctly guilty, and wished he could kick Harry in the shins for letting her know they were there.

After a long moment, she came forwards, and stopped half a metre from them.

"What are you doing?" she said, folding her arms. Not a good sign. She looked eerily like Mrs Weasley.

Harry swallowed. "We're – just walking."

"Walking? Under your Invisibility Cloak?"

"You know what happens to students out of bed."

"And what, you just felt like going for a wee night-time stroll, did you?"

"Er – yes?" Harry said uncertainly, and she reached out to poke him in the chest.

"Don't lie to me," she said hotly. "I heard you today, with Malfoy. I came back for a quill, and what do I see but the three of you planning a little rendezvous at midnight."

"Gin, we can explain …" Ron interjected, and she shushed him with her hand, eyes still fixed on Harry.

"Don't lie to me ever, OK?" she said, and Harry's jaw tightened, just slightly. He really didn't like being told what to do, and Ron could see it was a struggle for him to take it.

"I – it wasn't a lie to hurt you," he managed finally, but she was quick to respond.

"It doesn't matter. It's a lie to hurt you – going off to a stupid Wizard's Duel! What on earth were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I could end this thing with Malfoy," Ron said immediately. "Don't blame Harry, I made him. He didn't want to."

Ginny shot him a hard, steady look. "What would Hermione say?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe you should ask her."

Ginny eyed him a few more moments, and then glanced over her shoulder. Now Ron felt his stomach plummet – because Hermione was standing at the corner, in her pyjamas, looking both upset and furious.

"You told her?" he asked Ginny, incredulous, still focussed on Hermione.

"Of course I did," she said. "I couldn't let you go, could I?"

Ron had stopped listening. He approached Hermione almost at a run, but when he reached her, she turned and began to walk away. He lengthened his strides and soon caught up, touching her shoulder.

"'Mione, don't."

She whipped about and flicked his hand away. "Don't tell me don't," she said sharply. "I can't believe you!"

She began to walk again, and he moved alongside her, matching her every step.

"I had to."

"I asked you not to."

"I know, but I had to."

"Had to? Why couldn't you just be the better man?"

"I am the better man, OK, but – well, what was I supposed to do?"

"Say no," she said in a half-shout. "Just say no! Why are you always so – impulsive?"

"I'm not! I thought about this."

"Oh, for three seconds. Well done."

"Don't say that," he returned, angry now. He gripped her arm, and she stopped, facing him. To his shock, he found there were tears in her eyes. He didn't understand, and dropped her arm. "Don't," he said again, more gently now. "Don't cry."

"I'm not." She swiped a hand across her eyes. "I hate it when you do this."

"Do what?"

"When you can't see reason. You just hate him, for nothing."

"That's not true," he retorted. "I hate him because of the way he looks at you."

"Why do you have to care so much?"

Why did he care?

"That's the stupidest thing you've ever asked," he said in astonishment. "Why do I care so much? Because you're my girlfriend, and he wants you."

"Ron, I love you," she said then, almost despairingly. "So it doesn't matter what he wants, because I don't want him. You don't have to fight people for me. You've got me, OK?"

And with that, she turned again and went as quickly as she could back down the corridor. Ron could not tear his gaze from her retreating back, and even when she was gone, went on staring at the place she had been.

She loved him?

Did she say that?

"Who's there?" It was Filch's croaky drone, and Ron felt a surge of dread before he felt Harry and Ginny step up on either side of him, and the cloak settle over their heads.

"Hurry," Harry whispered.
They hurried; but Ron was only half there.

~

Back in the common room, Harry removed his cloak and he and Ginny launched into a blazing row. Ron couldn't really follow it, but there was something about his lying to her, and how silly duels were, and how she worried, and how he frustrated her, and then Harry interrupted with how she frustrated him. It was a mess, and Ron didn't want to be there – it didn't help that he felt partly responsible. He went up the stairs to their dorm as soon as he could, kicked his shoes off, and flopped back onto his bed.

Hermione loved him.

He was still reeling. He hardly remembered the other things they'd said to each other. He hardly remembered why he'd even been out there. All that stuck was her face when she said it, her wet eyes, cheeks red with cold and shouting, and the words themselves.

Because the thing was, he loved her too.

It was such a relief to admit it, even only to himself, that he felt almost sick. It was like a relaxation of muscles, or a cold drink after a long run. It was heavy and sweet and he wanted to tell her at that moment, more than he'd wanted to do anything in his life.

He sat up quickly, and put his shoes back on. He didn't even bother to tie the laces, he was so filled with urgency.

Find her, apologise, tell her, were his circling thoughts. It seemed so simple put like that.

He took the stairs two at a time, passing Ginny and Harry on his way out. They weren't yelling anymore, and were standing quite close together. Harry had his eyes on the floor and was speaking lowly. Ginny wasn't touching him, but her expression wasn't so sharp. They both glanced up when Ron went rocketing past.

"Where are you going?" Harry said, startled, and Ginny shook her head.

"Don't go looking for Malfoy now," she said tiredly, and he paused a moment, confused.

"Malfoy?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, but he didn't wait to hear more. He went out of the common room, and managed to get lost, but was soon on the now-familiar path to Hermione's room. It was almost half past twelve when he stood outside her door, and rapped against it with his knuckles.

"What?" she called.

"It's me," he said. His voice came out wrong somehow, and he had to clear his throat. "It's me. Can I come in?"

"No," she replied, after a long moment. She was standing on the other side of the door, her voice muffled only slightly. He had the oddest sense that he could feel her breathing, feel her body there.

"Alright," he said, a little taken aback by her response. "Are you sure?"

Another long pause.

"I'm sorry," he went on, when it seemed she wasn't going to speak. "I shouldn't have said I'd duel Malfoy. I should have known you'd hate it. I'm sorry."

Still nothing. He battled on regardless.

"And – I know you don't fancy him, but sometimes it's hard, when I can see what he wants from you, and there's nothing I can do about it. And I know you hate it when I get angry, but it's just the way I am. I can't control it. You're right, I don't think things through. I'm an idiot."

"You're not," she disagreed softly. He thought this was an encouraging sign, and leant his forehead against the door. 

"Please let me in," he murmured.

Again, a silence. His pulse was racing, and he was breathing too fast – he'd practically run all the way to her room. The problem was, now that he was here, and talking, the harder he was finding it to voice his earlier thought.

She spoke suddenly, in a rush.

"I shouldn't have said what I said."

"What you said what?"

"That I – you know. It freaks boys out, I know that, and I shouldn't have, and it was stupid of me. I was just worked up and angry. OK?"

"'Mione," he said hoarsely, "let me in."

The door creaked slowly open, just a little, and he met her eye through the gap.

"Hi," she said. She'd been crying.

"Hi," he said. "Sorry."

"You already said sorry."

"Sorry anyway."

"That's alright. You didn't go in the end." She paused, and her eyes flicked away. He couldn't stand that she'd said that to him, and was virtually taking it back. He wanted to shake her and tell her that she was being ridiculous, and couldn't she see how he felt … but none of that came out of his mouth.

"Hermione, I – er –"

He searched for her gaze, but she was deliberately focussing elsewhere.

"Er – I – care about you a lot."

Shit. That's not what he meant.

"And – and I love – being with you," he added hastily. "And I love talking to you."

"Right," she said lowly.

Why was this so difficult when he was face-to-face with her?

"Hermione, I – what I'm trying to say is – I feel the same, alright?"

Now she met his eye. "Feel the same what?"

"Feel the same way you do. About what you said."

She frowned at him, just slightly. "About what I said?"

She was going to make him come out and say it. He took a steadying breath and rolled his shoulders once, while she eyed him, puzzled.

"Ron, are you …" she began, but he cut her off.

"I love you," he said.

The longest silence yet followed this announcement, and now he understood why she hadn't been able to look at him before, because he was having some trouble now. It had come out of his mouth so suddenly, so – almost inappropriately, that he was embarrassed. And this silence, this silence was the worst. Couldn't she say something?
Just as he was beginning to consider running away, he heard her door creak all the way open, and felt her hand on his hand. He lifted his head. She was biting back a smile.

"Could you say that again please?" she said.

She was lovely, and he loved her.

"I'm not sure that I can," he admitted. "It was – kind of hard."

Her fingers linked through his.

"You can," she said.

He touched her hair with his free hand. "I love you," he said, and she was right, he could say it. It was easier the second time too. He felt less sick, and this round he could watch her face.

"OK," she murmured. "Alright."

She tilted her head, and he bent to kiss her. It felt different in some way – gentler, more important – and then it was the same, slow and sweet and Hermione. He backed up and they were kissing against the wall then, her hands at his waist. His were in her hair, both of them, and he could smell that almost-flowery scent that always lingered about her person.

When they stopped, she leant her head against his chest.

"You're not just saying that because I did, are you?" she asked, and he shook his head.

"You've said two stupid things in one night, now.  That's a Granger record."

"Promise, OK?" She looked up at him earnestly. She looked very small at that moment, and he felt an overwhelming swell of protectiveness. "Because if you're just saying it, I don't want to hear it."

"I'm not just saying it. You're the best thing in my life. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't around."

She blinked at him, and then grinned.

"Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?" she said.

"Hey," he protested. She laughed softly and hugged him hard.

"I love you as well," she said. "Like I said."

They stood like that for a long time.

Ron didn't give a single thought to Malfoy.

~

A/N: Sorry, no duel. Fluff instead. But I enjoyed it. Cheers, Shez XO