Disclaimer: Well, here we are again. It's a vicious cycle, huh? Yup, yup, it's not mine. It's hers. You know who I'm talking about. Band-Aids belong to some company, 3M Innovations, or Johnson and Johnson, something like that. The Band-Aid scene is from the wonderful movie "Blast From the Past", with my honey Brendon Fraiser, who is second only to the totally steamy Ben Afleck, who is second only to the fantasmical Ron Weasley! The paper towel belongs to Bounty, because they're the quilted quicker picker-upper. Slaves don't belong to anybody, because that's illegal. And pancakes? Oh yeah, those are mine.



By the way-diddly-ay, I've decided to be a major pain. Popular vote for Hermione's favorite book (in fact, all the votes) is The Giver. Well, just to be evil, I've decided that it is Jonathon Livingston Seagull. Is it just that none of you have read this fantastic book, or that none of you liked it? Well????



Dedicated to.... Liz. She bullied me into posting, so it can be hers!



~**~**~**~**~



By the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gotten downstairs, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already sitting down and waiting for them. They all took seats and dished out eggs, pancakes, and juice.



After a few minutes of quite eating, Mr. Granger spoke. "So what are the plans for today, kids?"



Hermione, Ron, and Harry looked at each other. Plans? Who needed plans?



"I don't know, Dad. We'll just... hang out, I guess," said Hermione.



"Well, if you're just going to 'hang out', as you put it, then you can help me with the driveway."



Hermione groaned. "Oh Dad, please, don't make us, Harry and Ron really shouldn't have to-"



Mr. Granger held up his hands. "Nope, you dug your own grave on that one. Since you have no other plans, you will shovel the driveway."



Hermione stopped arguing, knowing that it wouldn't do much good and not wanting to provoke her father into giving them even more chores. Ron looked confused.



"Shovel the driveway?" he asked.



"He means use a shovel to scoop the snow that's on the driveway to someplace else, so that cars can move on the driveway," explained Hermione, glaring at her father. "And in case you didn't notice yesterday, it is a huge driveway."



"Oh, quit your whining," said Mr. Granger, standing up to get more coffee. "I've had to do it for three years; it won't kill you to do it once. There's only a few inches. And with three of you it will be done in no time." He and Mrs. Granger stood up.



"We've got a bit of last minute shopping to do, so we're going into town. Do you kids need anything?" asked Mrs. Granger.



Both Harry and Ron said that they were fine, and Hermione just shook her head as she scowled down at her eggs.



"Alright, we'll see you in a bit," said Mrs. Granger. They both exited the kitchen, and a few minutes later the front door opened and shut. Hermione stood up and began to gather dishes.



"You'd think," she grumbled, "that since they're making us do the driveway, they'd at least stay long enough to help with dishes."





"What happened?" Ron asked suddenly.



"What?" she said, confused. She saw that he was looking at her knees. She looked down, and saw that one of the knees of her jeans was a little bloody. She could vaguely remember taking a spill on the ice. "I fell-" she began, and then paused. She didn't know why, but she didn't want to tell Ron and Harry that she ice skated. "I fell... on the stairs," she finished, saying the first thing that came to her mind.



"Are you ok?" asked Ron, his forehead creased with concern.



"Um..." Now that she was thinking about it, her knee actually hurt quite a lot. "It hurts a little. I mean, it's not bad, or anything, I can live with it."



Ron grabbed her elbow and led her to a chair. "Ron, what are you doing?" she said, most astonished.



"We can't have you hobbling around with a bum knee. Now sit down, I'm going to fix it. Harry, go get my wand. I mean, I'm practically an expert at Healing Spells, what with my mum-"



"Ron, there's no magic on the holidays," Harry reminded him, sounding amused.



"Oh," Ron said, looking downcast. "Well, what do Muggles do if they get hurt?"



"Band-Aids?" suggested Harry.



"Ok, go get me a... whatever you just said," Ron commanded. "Where are those... whatchamacallits, Hermione?"



"Upstairs bathroom, medicine cabinet," she said faintly. She'd never seen Ron like this, so in control.



She sat in the chair that Ron pulled out for her as Harry left to get the bandages. Ron kneeled down in front of her and removed her shoe. "Whoo!" he said, waving his hand in front of his nose. Hermione glared at him. "Only kidding, only kidding," he said hastily. He rolled up her pant leg and examined her wound. "You did yourself a good one," he said softly. There was a red, raw looking scrape across the greater portion of her knee, and the skin surrounding it was black and blue.



He stood up and got a paper towel, wetting it in the sink before coming back to sit in front of Hermione. He carefully patted her knee with the towel. She sucked in air through her teeth at the sting. He looked at her from under his lowered brow. "Sorry," he said, and he truly sounded it. He looked back down at her knee. He removed the cloth and leaned his head toward her injury.



For a fleeting instant she thought that Ron was going to kiss it, like her mother used to do whenever she got hurt. But instead he blew on it. The pain lessened a little and was replaced by a different type of tingle, one that Hermione couldn't identify.



A sudden noise on the stairs told them that Harry had found the bandages. Ron jerked back from her knee and stood up quickly before Harry entered.



Harry was carrying a small box, which Hermione assumed must have the Band-Aids in it. "Here," he said, holding one out to Ron.



Ron looked at it. "What am I supposed to do with that?" he asked, looking bewildered. His cheeks were a little red, and he was staring very fixedly at Harry.



"That's the Band-Aid." When Ron continued to stare mistrustfully at the Band-Aid, Harry sighed. "Fine, I'll do it." He smoothed the Band-Aid onto Hermione's scrape, and Hermione couldn't help but notice that he wasn't being half as gentle as Ron had been.



~**~**~**~**~



Forty five minutes later they were all outside and heaving shovelfuls of snow over their shoulders. The driveway was almost finished. Ron seemed to be enjoying using the Muggle-method of snow removal, and he flung the snow with great enthusiasm. Harry had a practiced method after years of winters with the Dursleys, and Hermione had sunk into a sort of trance. Scoop, hoist, fling, repeat. Scoop, hoist, fling, repeat. A sudden gust of wind blew her hat off and into the yard, and she went to retrieve it.



As she bent over to pick up her hat, a mass of snow exploded all over her back, sliding down the back of her coat and soaking her jeans. She shrieked and whipped around, and Harry and Ron both looked at her. "Who did that?" she yelled. Harry put on an innocent face, and Ron looked genuinely bewildered.



"Did what?" asked Ron.. Hermione took this as an admission of guilt. She grabbed a handful of snow and chucked it at Ron. He tried to duck and slipped on a patch of ice. He fell down, and Hermione took advantage of it and threw another snowball, which hit him right in the chest.



"What was that for?" shouted Ron indignantly from the ground.



"You threw snow on me, I throw snow at you!"



"You're off your rocker," fumed Ron. "I did no such thing."



"You and Harry are the only ones here, and he didn't..." she trailed off, turning to Harry. He tried his best not to grin but couldn't help it.



Ron got up off of the ground and walked to Harry. "I must say, that was terrific," he said, reaching out as if to give Harry a high five. "Good show-" And he crammed a handful of snow down the back of Harry's shirt.



Hermione collapsed to the ground with giggles as Ron stood back and watched Harry twist and shake. He shook the snow out of his shirt with as much dignity as possible and then jumped on Ron, knocking him into the snow. They wrestled and fought, shoving snow at each other and pushing each other down. (A/N- All playful, all playful! Just guys doing the "must be macho" routine.)



"Boys, boys..." said Hermione. "As much as I enjoy watching you tussle, we need to finish the driveway before my parents get home. So knock it off and get back to work."



The boys stood up, grumbling. "Pushy slave driver," muttered Ron.



"I heard that."



The boys picked up their shovels and returned to scooping, but Hermione stayed where she was. She laid down and made a snow angel, staring at the sky. The cloudless blue seemed to stretch on forever in all directions, and she was briefly mesmerized.



"Aren't you coming, Mistress?" said Ron's voice from next to her. She jumped, and sat up.



"Yeah, yeah, I suppose," she said. Ron stretched out an arm, and she took his hand to help herself up. But he apparently didn't have very good balance, because when Hermione tried to pull herself to a standing position, he toppled headfirst into the snow beside her. She fell back down laughing. He gave her a look but started laughing too. He rolled over onto his back and looked upward.



"What were you looking at before?"



"The sky," she answered, looking at it again.



"Why?"





"I dunno. It's just so... So huge, you know?" she said before she could stop herself. She instantly felt stupid. 'Of course it's big,' she thought. 'It's the sky.'



She was about to get up and leave, when Ron said, "Yeah, I know what you mean." She glanced at him, thinking that he was making fun of her, but he was still looking up. He looked as if he was thinking deeply about something. "Like how it seems to go up forever when it's like this? It makes you feel awfully small, doesn't it?"



"Yeah," she said, a little surprised. That was exactly what she had been thinking; she never would have thought that Ron, of all people, had seen it the same way. They were silent for a few moments, and then Ron sat up. "Harry's probably wondering where we are," he said, standing as he spoke.



Hermione stood up too. "Actually," she said, brushing snow off of her coat, "where is he?"



"Bathroom. There was only a little bit of driveway left, and I told him I would finish it so that he wouldn't need to come back outside."



"That was pleasant of you. Such the perfect gentleman," said Hermione as they walked towards the house.



"Yeah, well, I'm a nice kind of guy."



"Sure!" she said, and ducked as he tossed a snowball her direction. She shrieked and ran to the house, Ron chasing her the whole way.

~**~**~**~**~



Aww... Isn't Ron the sweetest little thing? As I was writing that scene (you know, the Band-Aid one), I thought that he might be out of character (OOC). But as my beta-reader Lisa pointed out, Ron is Mrs. Weasley's child. You can tell, she's totally one of those moms who gasp and exclaim over little cuts and whatnot, so it's only natural that Ron is that way too- he grew up with it. I could see all the Weasley children doing that, maybe even Percy. And anyway... That's the point of fanfic! You can write totally weird and crazy OOC things, and no one can stop you! So bah humbug, I'll make him OOC if I want to! And you will read it, and like it too! (Sorry, long story behind that last line there... my dad is such a meanie!) Hey kids, this is Lightning, babbling on. Someone, duck tape her shut, stat!



Mmf! Mmmf! :::waves hand:::