A/N-Sorry it's been so long between updates. I've had the flu, blah. But, here's the next chap. Hope it's all right.




*Chapter Eight*




Ron almost had a spring in his step as he walked down the corridor towards Hermione's room. Today had gone much better than he had ever expected. In fact, if he didn't love being an Auror so much, he'd consider a career change. That thought had him chuckling to himself. Sir Nicholas, who had been floating down the corridor at the same time Ron was, looked at the red head as if he were a few words short of a spell. Ron didn't notice however, he was too busy patting himself on the back.

Through the course of the day (and a gallon of coffee at lunch) his hangover had dissipated to a minor ache in his temples. His mood had improved with each class, as did his confidence. They were only children after all. Of course, they had all been so well behaved, that he was starting to wonder if there wasn't something even more sinister going on at Hogwarts. No children were that good. He had a vague memory of some Muggle movie he'd seen. Something about pod people that were out to take over the world. He chuckled again, deciding to chalk it up to the novelty of having a new teacher, and that the little buggers would show their true colors soon enough. If they didn't, Ron would be hard pressed trying to figure out which one of them was behind all the incidents at the school.

Pushing it aside for the moment, Ron came to a stop outside of Hermione's room and knocked on the door.

"Just a second." Her voice filtered out through the wood, sounding rushed and a bit agitated. He bit back the smile that threatened and felt a sense of awe that she hadn't really seemed to change in the years they'd been apart.

"Oh, Ron. Hello," she said after pulling open the door. She'd seemed to be in the middle of changing her clothes when he'd knocked, since her turquoise blouse wasn't tucked into the knee length, black skirt she was wearing.

"Hello, Hermione. Thought I'd stop by and see if you wanted an escort to dinner." He told her nonchalantly. She peered at him as if uncomprehending what he had said for a minute, then shook her head.

"Um, yes, I suppose so. Just let me find my shoes." She turned away from him and started gazing around her floor. Ron's brows drew together at the distracted way she seemed to be acting.

"You all right, Mione?" Her eyes shot up to his, confusion in their depths.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? Ah, there it is." She kneeled down and picked up the match to the one black flat she had already found.

"You just seem a little off, is all." She didn't turn toward him again until her shoes were on and her blouse tucked in.

"No, I'm fine. How was your first day? I see you still have all your hair, so, I gather it wasn't too stressful."

Ron thought briefly about not letting her change the subject, but decided against it. If he knew one thing about Hermione, it was that if there was something that she didn't want to talk about, she wouldn't until she was good and ready.

"Yeah, actually, it wasn't. You?"

"Oh, it was wonderful. I think maybe I missed my calling." He smiled at the excitement on her face, wondering how she'd managed to get even more beautiful over the years.

"Well, I bet Dumbledore would be happy for you to stay on after all this mess is over," Ron told her as they stepped back into the hall.

"I suppose. But, I DO love my job at the museum as well." She gave a little sigh at her predicament, then sent Ron a sharp look when he chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing." She looked at him as if she didn't believe him, but didn't pursue it. She could do without his unique brand of humor just now. They fell into silence on the rest of the walk to the Great Hall. Ron was wondering how she would react if he reached out and took her hand, and Hermione was preoccupied with how she was going to tell the men about the notes and not sound like an over reacting ninny. But, the silence wasn't tense. When they were in school, they could go for hours without talking-or arguing, as they were better-known for-just content to be in each other's company. If they'd stopped to think about it, they would have thought it was odd that they still could.

"Ron, Hermione." The two stopped at the sound of their names and turned to watch Harry trot up to them. He looked like hell, they both thought. Dark circles hovered underneath his eyes which were usually so bright, but now seemed dull as he looked at them. He hadn't shaved, and the dark stubble added a sort of bedraggledness to his appearance.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked immediately, concern coating her voice.

"Yeah, you look like you went a round or two with a Dementor and lost," Ron joked.

"I'm fine. Listen, can we postpone the meeting tonight. If your day was anything like mine, there's nothing really to say about the students. They were all on their best behavior with me."

"Well, yes they were for me, as well." Hermione agreed.

"Me, too."

"Good. So, it's all right, then? I figure by next week we'll have a better feel for them and we can have better opinions then."

"That's fine." Ron answered. Maybe he could convince Hermione to go to Hogsmeade with him instead.

"Yes, of course. You look like you need some sleep." Hermione agreed, torn between relief and guilt that she wouldn't have to tell them about the notes. She'd definitely tell them at the next meeting, but she didn't want to bring it up in the hall where they were surrounded by students and staff.

"You have no idea." Harry responded, his eyes going distant as if he were seeing something else besides them. He shook it off and gave them a tired grin. "It's been a long day."

"Shall we go in? I'm starved." Hermione and Harry smiled at the predictability of Ron's stomach and nodded.

"I hope we don't get any unwanted guests tonight. I'm not in the mood to round up beetles again." Hermione prayed aloud with a shudder.

"Don't think any of them could take it either." Ron jerked his head to indicate some of the more wide eyed students that were peering at their plates, afraid they would come to life.

"Let's just hope our friend needs to recharge before attempting another grand representation of his abilities. I'm too tired to deal with it." Harry stifled a yawn while he spoke and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"There's always room for hope." Ron said with a grin before leaving them to take his seat next to Snape. Hermione gave a little chuckle, which died when she saw the flash of raw pain on Harry's face.

"Harry, are you all right?" She reached out and placed a hand on his arm, her eyes following his gaze. Understanding washed over her when she saw Ginny, glaring daggers at the man. With a sniff, the red head turned away and Harry offered Hermione a tight smile.

"Just wonderful." He finally answered, then pulled away to go take his own seat. Hermione sighed and followed. She made a mental note to go see Madame Pomfrey after dinner, to get something for the headache that had made itself her constant companion.


~*~*~


Dinner, blissfully, was an uneventful affair. Although, it took close to a half an hour for the students to relax enough to actually eat. After it was over, Ron had to hurry to catch up with Hermione before she could disappear up to her room.

"Hermione, wait." He frowned at the flash of annoyance across her face, which she covered with a smile when he stopped in front of her.

"Yes, Ron?"

"I was wondering if you'd want to come into Hogsmeade with me?" His face was neutral as he asked, but Hermione could practically feel the hope seeping from his pores. Unfortunately, she was bone tired herself, and wanted nothing more than to go back to her room, take a bath and go to bed.

"Oh, not tonight Ron. I'm just so tired."

"Fine. Just figured I'd ask." Ron cut her off before she could say that she would love to go that weekend if it were possible. But, the hurt that burned in his eyes told her that it wouldn't have done any good.

"Ron, no, it's not like that. It's just been a long day. ."

"I said that was fine. I'll talk to you tomorrow." And so, he turned and left her standing there with her mouth hanging open and eyes trained on the stiff line of his back as he walked away. With a snap, she closed her jaw and huffed indignantly.

"Prat," she spat, then turned on her heel and headed in the other direction, never feeling the eyes on her retreating back.


~*~*~




Hermione couldn't sleep. Which of course was the only reason she was out wandering the grounds in nothing more than her nightgown and wrap at close to midnight. She hadn't lied to Ron earlier when she'd said she was too tired to go with him. In fact, after the little burst of adrenalin her anger at him had caused had worn off, she'd barely had the energy to change her clothes and slide into bed.

Of course, the second her head hit the pillow, her eyes popped open as if on automatic springs. She'd tossed and turned for a while, never finding a comfortable spot to relax in. Finally, she gave up and got out of bed. Throwing on her wrap, she decided to take a walk around the castle. How she managed to get outside without really noticing was beyond her.

The night was chilly and damp with the threat of impending rain. It seemed almost lonely, with nothing to keep her company but the moon that was hanging silver and full in the sky. It's color was so bright, that it blanked out the stars around it, like it was jealous of their attempts to shine. The sounds of the forest surrounding the school coupled with the soft whispers of the lake made her feel like a fairytale princess in a book, awaiting her prince to come rescue her.

She scoffed a bit at that. She never considered herself someone who needed saving by anyone. She'd held her own with the boys back in her days at school, and she hadn't risen to her current position at the museum hiding like some simpering female. But, when it was late and she was alone with her own thoughts, she could fancy herself a damsel in distress, praying for some dashing knight to come whisk her off on his steed.

With a sigh at her own folly, Hermione rounded the castle and glanced down the road that led off the grounds. What she saw was definitely not a prince or a knight, and he definitely didn't have a steed. In fact, he didn't seem to have any balance either. She stopped and stared openly at him, her mouth agape with shock. Ron hadn't seen her yet. He seemed oblivious to everything around him. He was staggering up the road, doing an odd little dance every few steps to keep himself upright. When he got closer, she could hear him singing some horribly off key pub song.

"Ronald Weasley! Have you gone mad?" she hissed, walking briskly over to him. He stumbled to a stop and peered at her through half slit eyes, teetering dangerously on his booted feet.

"Mione? Thought ya wenta schleep. Or was tha jus an escuse?" he demanded, slurring his words badly. He reeked of whiskey and smoke and she had no trouble deducing where he'd been.

"Hush, before someone hears you and you get thrown out on your arse for being drunk." she scolded, sliding an arm around his waist to help direct him into the school. "Let's get you to bed."

"Though you'd neva ashk." Ron replied with a giggle. He leaned heavily on her and turned his head to breathe in deep the scent of her hair. "So good." he whispered, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"Ron, I can't carry you inside. You're going to have to help me." She admonished, struggling to get him up the stairs and through the front door.

"I am." He told her loudly, his voice echoing in the main hall.

"Shhh. Do you WANT to get fired?"

"What d'you care?" She paused long enough to glare at him, then went back to trying to haul him up the stairs to the second floor where his room was.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response." He chuckled maniacally at the prim sound of her voice.

"Why not? You lef me." he accused, stumbling a bit. Hermione had to fight to keep her feet under her. Good lord, he was heavy.

"Ron, let's not get into this now, all right?" She begged. Sweat had broken out on her skin from the exertion of half carrying him.

"Why di' you leaf me, Mione?" She nearly coughed at the face full of whiskey breath she got when he asked her that question. She looked up to see his drunken blue eyes pinned on her, demanding an answer.

"You didn't exactly stop me." was all she offered, sighing in relief when they reached the top of the stairs. The only sounds between them for the next several minutes was her labored breathing and his boots clicking on the floor.

Thank God!, her brain screamed when his room came into sight. She just knew she was going to be aching the next day from this.

"Yerright, I didn' stop you. I never wannid you to leaf, Mione." he muttered as she steered him into his room. The door swung quietly shut behind them. "I die, ev'y day without you." That surprised Hermione so much, that she jerked back to stare at him with wide eyes. The movement caused their feet to tangle up and she suddenly found herself pinned between him and the bed, his hard body pressed intimately into hers. Her breath left her with a whoosh, stunning her into stillness. She could feel the heat of his skin through her thin nightclothes and felt the resulting heat spread slowly through her blood.

"Ron, get up." She demanded, pushing ineffectually against the broad expanse of his chest. She could smell the whiskey again, but instead of being disgusted by it, she felt a thrill dance up her spine. Their mouths were bare inches away from each other, her breasts crushed against the hard wall of his chest, his hard muscled thigh tucked between her softer ones. She gasped when she felt his hard length press against her softness, the gasp turning into a moan when she looked into his eyes. They were burning so hot with desire that she thought she would burn from the intensity. Unknowingly, her fingers fisted in the soft material of his t-shirt, not to push away, but to gently tug.

His eyes trailed over her face, to stop finally on her mouth. She could feel herself trembling under his perusal, every cell in her body screaming for him to close the distance.

And when he did, every inch of her rejoiced. She opened eagerly for him, sliding her tongue against his in a way that seemed familiar and new all at the same time. He tasted like alcohol and sin. He felt like heaven. Hunger took over as their mouths slid against each other, each taking the time to retrace old patterns and rediscover the secrets of each other's mouths.

"So beautiful." He whispered when he pulled away, his hand sliding up her side to cup her breast through her nightdress. She whimpered in pleasure and arched into his touch, turning her head to allow his wandering mouth access to her throat.

"I've missed you," she whispered, combing her fingers through the soft tresses of his hair. Every nerve was on fire, each breath a gasp for 'more'. She was so enraptured by the feeling coursing through her that it took her a minute to realize that he had stopped moving. "Ron?"

When the only response that she got was a loud snore, an irrational anger poured icily over her. With a hard shove, he rolled onto his back, his closed eyes confirming that he had indeed passed out.

"Of all the. . ." Hermione stood and paced the length of the room, shooting dagger sharp looks at the prone figure on the bed. Anger, frustration and desire all swirled inside of her, making her want to ravish him and kill him all at the same time. "Bloody bastard." She growled, stalking over to him. She stood over him for a long time, arms crossed over her chest, breast rising with each indignant breath she took. Finally, with a sigh of resignation, she set about making him somewhat comfortable.

After she had his boots off and had managed to shove him at least mostly onto the bed, she turned to leave.

"Probably for the best." She decided, taking one last look at his prone form, before leaving to go back to her own room for a cold shower. She knew that sleep would elude her for the rest of the night now.


~*TBC*~