Disclaimer: Tis Jo's, not mine. You know the deal.

A/N: I've rehashed it, I was unhappy with bits and pieces so I thought I'd go through and edit. It was written before HBP came into being.

Follow the Spiders

Dim candle light and an inkling of star light shone through one of the stained glass windows on the third floor. It was the only light. Everything was silent, not even the echo of a footstep could be heard. The floor lay beneath a hazy mist, swirling in lazy patterns of grey and white. Shadows from the Forbidden Forest lay black across the grounds of Hogwarts, undisturbed in the midnight hour. The long unkempt grass shivered in the low-lying breeze, rustling in hushed tones.

Ripples glided across the surface of the lake, moving across its icy, dark depths and lapping gently against the rocky edges. Undisturbed and tranquil. The castle walls seemed to breathe in the night air, relaxing as the students slept soundly in their beds; lost in dream land, thinking of the sweeter things in life. Not even Mr. Filch walked the corridors on this early spring night.

The castle appeared still. Appearances though, can be deceiving…

The portrait marking the entrance to Gryffindor Tower swung open with a barely audible creak and a set of hands appeared, grasping onto the bricks of the portrait hole as the owner pulled themselves out. A sleepy Fat Lady watched the tall boy suspiciously, leaning forward a little and blinking her tired eyes as he shuffled around in the darkness. Moments later she swung herself shut with a heavy and exhausted thud.

An explosion of dust filled the corridor and the boy jumped slightly before he settled once more and pulled a thin piece of fabric from his belt. With a lavish swish, the fabric engulfed his body and he vanished into thin air; was swallowed up by the glittering piece of material. Slowly, but steadily, he started down the deserted corridor in front of him, watching the dark shadows intently for signs of life. Nothing; he was most definitely alone.

Treading carefully he made his way to the large oak doors leading out into the grounds. He moved a hand slowly from beneath the shimmering fabric and hesitantly lifted the heavy lock to push the door open. For a moment the only sound in the castle was that of hinges creaking and he froze to the spot.

A gentle breeze blew through the open door and he pressed his body back against the wood as he waited for the castle to fall silent again. Convinced the coast was clear, he hopped out of the doorway and pulled the door closed behind him with a thud.

Racing across the wet grass he had to try hard not to stumble and fall. He kept his strides long and tried to stick to worn patches of ground, keeping out of the damp as much as he could.

The silver moon shone brightly above him, lighting the path towards the Forbidden Forest. Trees stood tall, leaves crackling and rustling in the wind, the branches swaying and groaning under the strain. As he reached the trees, dense bushes and undergrowth surrounding him, he timidly ducked beneath the tangled vines and then continued on his way into the forest.

Weaving in and out of the trees he soon reached a clearing and stopped dead. Blue eyes darted about in the darkness, peering up to the treetops and into the surrounding greenery. As soon as he was sure it was clear he tugged gently on the edge of the fabric covering him and it fell to the ground, pooling in folds of silvery blue around him, like ripples on a lake.

If he'd made time, the clock would just be striking twelve. Perfect.

Continuing on his trek through the dark trees he pushed his hands into the pockets of his robes, the fingers of one hand curling tightly around his wand. Better safe than sorry.

He ducked and clambered over thickets and upturned tree roots for another five minutes and then found the place he wanted to be; a small clearing, only a few feet in diameter with a winding path to the left that led back to the edge of the lake.

The tiny spot of heaven in hell already lay bathed in golden light. Small glittering sparks jumping from the end of a wand several feet from him. Hazel eyes blinked slowly and the owner of the wand looked at him crossly.

'Ronald Weasley, you're late.'

Strict and forgoing… as usual. Delicate fingers lowered the glowing wand slightly to reveal a soft complexion framed by bouncy cinnamon coloured curls.

'Have you ever tried stealing this from Harry?' he asked softly and held up the invisibility cloak to show her.

She laughed softly; a sweet sounding laugh that made him shiver.

Letting the cloak fall to the floor he gave his mop of red hair a shake, tiny pieces of dried up leaves and twig falling from it. It would take him time to master the art of reaching the clearing unscathed.

Hermione watched him with intrigue and then smiled, whispering, 'Nox.'

Darkness fell around them and Ron stepped forwards, ungracefully stumbled on a tree root, the breath knocked from him as he hit the floor. He could feel his ears turning pink already and was glad that for once it wasn't visible for the entire castle to see.

'Oh gosh, Ron, are you OK?' blurted Hermione and he felt her drop down to her knees beside him, her hands reaching out to find him in the dark. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's fine,' he replied, brushing the dust from his fraying robes and moving to sit down, legs crossed beneath him. For the first time in a long while he didn't feel stupid or idiotic. That was just the way he was. If you loved a Weasley you had to accept it.

Of course he could still never live down Fred and George's dramatic exit in his 5th Year. One day he'd rival it. One day. Sneaking around with Hermione came close and currently the closest he would get. Rendezvous' in closets and the occasional fumble in the dark. 7th Year had brought along many changes.

'Ron…' whispered Hermione, breath tickling his ear as she leant in close to him. 'Maybe we should tell Harry.'

Something he had suggested a week ago. Their secret had gone on long enough without their friend knowing and Harry was beginning to suspect. Every night they'd disappear for several hours and return to the Gryffindor common room to find him in a bad mood, usually sat up with Ginny or Neville playing exploding snap or chess.

Ron glanced at the trembling teen crouched beside him and shrugged. 'I don't know,' he answered.

'What do you mean you don't know? You suggested it!'

She was beginning to get tetchy. She always did if Harry made his way into the conversation. It didn't help when they disagreed about it either.

'Well I'm starting to think it was a stupid idea, don't get at me,' he snapped back, grumpily crossing his arms over his chest and burying his head in his robes. 'I don't think he'll react very well, that's all.'

'He wouldn't though, would he? We've been sneaking around behind his back for the past year.'

'I know what we've been doing!'

Feeling a sulk coming on he sighed and glanced at her. Her annoyance had passed and she was merely staring at the ground, idly playing with the hem of her pleated skirt.

'I'm sorry,' he muttered. He always gave into her in a flash. Something to do with loving her no doubt.

Hermione smiled and leant in close, the fruity scent of her washing over him and setting his senses alight. It always did. The strong smell of fresh strawberries. Eyes subconsciously drifting closed he placed a hand to the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair and bringing her face closer to his.

Her body stiffened at the sudden touch but she leant in closer, her hands cupping his face as she kissed his lips tenderly. One tiny touch that sent adrenaline ripping through his veins. It wasn't enough, he needed more.

Returning the loving gesture Ron brushed his lips against hers, giving her time to react to the sensation. Moans and cries that he loved to hear. The kiss intensified and he pushed closer, tongue running over her full lips and pleading for entry, begging to taste.

She parted her lips on a breath and her hands dragged up into his hair, nails gently raking across freckled skin. The kiss was passionate, desperate, something he'd been craving all day.

Potions had been a nightmare. He sat behind her, given the perfect opportunity to stare at the perfectly formed ringlets in her hair and imagine running his fingers through it as he lost himself in her. He'd ended up with detention for a week for not paying attention, and then, his potion had gone awry, leaving both himself and Harry with black faces after the explosion.

Ten points from Gryffindor.

Usually they met before midnight but because of his detention with Snape they had to change their meeting time. Hermione had suggested giving it a miss for an evening at first, but after cleaning out cauldrons for two hours, Ron was desperate for some kind of escape.

'Ron…'

So engrossed in his thoughts he hadn't even noticed that Hermione had pulled away from him.

'Maybe you should, you know,' she continued, voice only just above a whisper.

He blinked and shuffled back so that he could tug his wand from the confidents of his robes. But he was tired and it was late; too late for casting complicated spells especially.

''Mione, maybe we shouldn't tonight, it's late,' he replied, trembling fingers still holding tightly onto his wand.

Sitting back from him she nodded, a hopeful smile on her face. 'Are you sure?' she questioned.

He cleared his throat and mirrored her nod wistfully. 'Yeah…'

'Oh good, it's cold out here.'

Biting on his lip to contain a hearty laugh, he lifted a hand to her cheek, tracing his fingers back and forth her ivory complexion. Feeling the heat as blood rose to the surface of her skin, he watched the rosy blush creep across her face with icy blue eyes.

Hermione giggled lightly, something she only ever did around him. 'Kiss me,' she demanded playfully.

'With pleasure.'

Half an hour passed before they decided to head back to the castle, both uncomfortably hunched over beneath Harry's invisibility cloak as they trudged across the wet grass. From a distance Hogwarts seemed so unreal, with the towers lined up, snowy and tawny owls swooping in and out of the highest windows.

Ascending the stairs slowly, Ron led the way, Hermione behind him, clinging tightly onto his robes so that she didn't loose him.

Gryffindor Tower lay in silence as they hopped down from the portrait hole, shoes clacking against the stone floor. The fire had long since died and had been stocked up with fresh logs for approaching day by the house elves. Discarded quills and pieces of parchment sat in a tidy pile on the desk by the window, and pots of ink were collected together and placed beside them. The house elves worked hard, there was no doubt about that.

At the foot of the stairs leading to the girls dormitory they shared one last kiss and became entranced in each other, hands feebly gripping at fabric and running through hair.

Hermione was first to pull away, breathless, lips bruised from the kiss. 'We can't, not now,' she whispered unconvincingly, only to lean in once more and reinitiate the kiss, fingers tangling in his robes and pulling him over towards one of the couches.

'I thought you just said we – whoa!'

One tug too many and they both tumbled down onto the battered leather couch in fits of giggles. It took Hermione a few minutes to realise how loud they were being and she clamped her hand over his mouth, still laughing. 'Shush,' she hissed.

Attempting to mumble a reply he rolled his eyes then chose to bite gently on her fingers instead. She squealed and pulled her hand away, looking at him disapprovingly. 'Sorry,' he whispered on a hesitant breath, the sound of someone walking down the staircase drowning him out.

'Hello?'

It was Harry. But then, of course it was. Just their luck. It then suddenly dawned on Ron that he hadn't drawn the curtains around his bed and his best friend would have known he was missing.

Sitting up, and trying not to knee Hermione in the process, Ron waved weakly at his friend. 'Morning, Harry,' he said quietly.

Harry blinked a few times and then ran his fingers through his dark hair, stifling a yawn. Seconds later his eyes widened a little as Hermione moved to sit up as well. 'What are you two doing down here?' he asked hoarsely.

'Couldn't sleep,' replied Hermione quickly.

'And we-'

She slapped Ron's arm. 'Neither could Ron.'

'No,' he agreed.

Harry wasn't buying it and shook his head, perching on the edge of a desk behind him. 'But what are you doing down here?' he asked again.

Looking about nervously, Ron began to chew on his thumbnail and said the first thing that came to mind. 'Spiders,' he blurted.

Hermione gaped at him.

'There was a spider, you know, on the hearth. So, just for curiosity's sake, we followed it…'

Raised eyebrows all around.

'We followed it into the forest actually. I told her it was a stupid idea, 2nd Year stuff and everything,' he continued haphazardly, his story loosing all perspective as he began to ramble. 'Stupid,' was his final conclusion.

'So you said, Spiderman,' chimed in Hermione, sounding aggravated.

He glanced at her and then shook his head. 'This is your fault anyway,' he protested.

'It is not!'

'Is too!'

'Guys,' Harry interjected and they both looked back at him quickly. 'It doesn't matter, I don't care. I'm going to bed. Goodnight.'

And then he left without another word, leaving them alone in the common room once more.

'Followed a spider,' muttered Hermione in disbelief.

'Sorry…'