A/N: As promised, the next chapter. Not as good as I would have hoped, but even my beta couldn't correct anything, so . . . here you go. Enjoy!
Dedicated to: My Beta, Faye, CatalinaRose, jaffacake, starheart, Fred et George, The French Padfoot, and Moonlight Yellow. Thanks to you all! Oh, and here you go "Hands out brownies to all who reviewed (I had a better surprise, but wait until the next chapter for it.
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As the early morning sun crept through the windows, Mrs. Weasley gave a small sigh of content. Early mornings, before the others had woken up, was her favorite time of the day. The house was actually silent, giving her time to just think, and she was alone, a whole new day set out before her.
As Mrs. Weasley sat in the kitchen, sipping at her coffee, she let her mind wander. She had some chores that needed doing, and a dinner that had to be fixed. Not to mention she had to go and fetch Harry from that awful Muggle house at eight. Though she supposed she could start the laundry before that. Maybe even get a bit of ironing done. Mrs. Weasley stood up, quickly washed her mug, then start on gathering the necessities for breakfast.
Five floors above her, up the rickety stairs, and past the landings, lay Ron, quietly groaning from the harsh morning light hitting his eyes. Still too tired to fully wake up, he stretched and rolled on his side, facing his back to the window and the sun that shone through. Within moments he was drifting back off to sleep, not giving a care to the hard object his arm was now slung over.
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Mrs. Weasley slowly made her way up the stairs, stopping at each landing to silently collect all clothes in need of washing. Fortunately Ginny had put her clothes into her hamper, saving Mrs. Weasley the work of digging around her room for them. Percy had done the same, as had Mr. Weasley and herself. Fred and George had at least attempted, throwing their clothes in the general direction of the hamper. As Mrs. Weasley trudged up the final staircase, she thought ahead to Ron's room. He usually ignored his hamper, and she did not expect today to be any different.
Carefully, Mrs. Weasley pushed the door ajar, and stepped inside. She was right. Ron had piled his garments in every nook and cranny of his room. Except his hamper. Mrs. Weasley set to work.
Working her way around the room, she finished at the foot of the bed. Smiling slightly, she looked up at the peaceful form of Ron. He looked so calm, and relaxed, and Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but feel a surge of pride run through out her. This was her youngest son, her last boy.
Mrs. Weasley grinned as Ron rolled over, yawning, and turned over to his other side, leaving a large space on his bed. Or rather, leaving room for something that would take up a large space. A human sized space. She wrinkled her brow in thought, as she looked down to inspect the tangled blankets and the breathing form. Pulling down the comforter a bit, Mrs. Weasley gave a gasp. There, lying next to her Ron, her youngest son, was-
"Hermione?" She shrieked.
A loud moan being her only response, and not at all the response she was looking for, Mrs. Weasley dropped the laundry in her hands, a gasped loudly. She stared down at the stretching form of her son, and then to the girl next to him.
Ron blinked and gave a weary look to his mother, "Mum? 'Smatter?"
Mrs. Weasley felt her jaw drop in disbelief as she gaped at her boy. A look of utter incredulity crossed her face and she slowly raised a hand and pointed to the still sleeping form of Hermione. Ron followed his mothers finger and looked down next to him.
"BLOODY HELL!" Ron jumped up out of bed, blanket tightly wrapped around him. "Hermione what the-"
Putting aside her shock just long enough to scold Ron for his "filthy mouth", Mrs. Weasley gawked at Ron and then at the, in spite of Ron's shattering yells, resting figure that was Hermione.
"Mum, I swear, this isn't what it looks like-"
"A girl? A girl? In you bed? What on earth . . . never have I seen . . . I can't believe-"
Slowly Hermione's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up, stretching slowly. " Good morning Mrs. Weasley. 'Morning Ron." Hermione paused, mid-stretch and glanced at the other two occupants of the room. Then did a double take, first resting her eyes on Ron, who was still wrapped up tightly in his blanket, standing a few feet away from her, then gazing at Mrs. Weasley who stood mid-yell, surrounded by a pile of laundry, a look of absolute fury on her face, mixed with a bit of astonishment.
Hermione paused, took in a deep breath, and let out a shattering scream.
****
"Honestly, Arthur, a girl. Hermione at that. In his bed. At night. Alone!" Mrs. Weasley found herself pacing the length of her room, two hours later.
Mr. Weasley looked up from where he was pulling his socks on. "Now Molly, I'm sure it didn't mean anything, you heard what Ron said, and I believe him." That having been said, he gave a firm nod, and went back to his socks.
"Arthur, you can't be serious! He's a teenage boy. With a girl in his bed! Need I remind you of hormones?" Mrs. Weasley stared at her husband, clearly thinking the decrease in his I.Q. must have been a new development. "Have you forgotten what the other boys were like at this age? What you were like?"
With a wave of the hand, as if it wasn't truly important, Mr. Weasley replied, "Now, now Molly, calm down. Of course I remember what the other boys were like. And I also remember that we can trust Ron. He's not the type to say one thing to our faces, then turn around and do the opposite!" He paused, thinking over what was just said. "Well, I trust him this time anyway. Besides, the same thing happened to me when I was around his age, and I can-" Mr. Weasley cut himself off, catching the look Mrs. Weasley was throwing at him. "The point is, nothing happened to me, I'm sure nothing happened between Ron and Hermione." Despite the effort, his little speech did not have the effect of calming down his wife, like wanted.
"Nothing?" Mrs. Weasley said, not missing a beat, an accusing sound, clearly in her voice.
"Nothing." Pause. "Well, except for that point of time when everyone else was asleep and-" Suddenly, Mr. Weasley's eyes widened, and he stared at his wife, a stunned expression making it's way across his face, "Oh. Oh no. Oh, dear, no. This is bad . . . very bad."
"That's what I've been saying to you, Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley sank down onto the bed, next to her husband. Hesitating, he reached a hand out, and gently patted her back. "I've been thinking about this whole mess . . . now, it may be too late, but we must do something. I'm not going to let my baby boy be so - so-" Mrs. Weasley gave up, and sank her shoulders in a defeated way.
Hoping to cheer her up, even just a bit, Mr. Weasley tried to get her to continue. "A plan, dear?"
She cleared her throat, and nodded. "Yes a plan." Turning to her husband, she took on a pleading look. "Now, Arthur, I know we've waited until the boys were sixteen, for all the others, but I think in this case it's only right to start a bit early." Ignoring the look of horror on her husband face, Mrs. Weasley continued. "I think, Arthur, dear, that it's time you gave Ron the talk."
"Molly!" Mr. Weasley burst out. "You can't be . . . you don't mean . . . Molly, you don't seem to understand the terror and embarrassment those two little words bring, let alone the action itself!"
"Arthur, you're over reacting." She answered, her turn to take on the air of something not important, "It's only right. Dear, there was a girl in his bed! Besides . . . man-to-man, he'll open up to you."
After a few minutes involving Mr. Weasley trying to come up with a defense, and Mrs. Weasley shooting down each attempt, he finally gave in, looking defeated.
"Fine Molly, I'll talk to Ron. Just - just don't blame me if it doesn't work." With that, Mr. Weasley sighed, and walked out of the room.