The common room was now entirely empty. Sitting across from eachother, in squashy armchairs, Ron and Hermione continued their work. They sat for five minutes, in silence. The fire was casting a warm light on them.

"Well, I think your History of Magic essay is all right now," Hermione was saying, quickly, intentionally briskly.

Ron looked at her and suddenly felt helpless, felt as if he had to do something right now, or the world would fall apart. He pushed his chair back, stood up, and, leaned across the table, in a single, spontaneous, awkward motion. His lips grazed Hermione's and they kissed. Hermione leaned closer for a split second, and suddenly stiffened. She drew away.

"Oh Ron."

Ron's face went as red as his hair. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I thought you—you—well I thought we….I have—you know--for you."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She laughed. "Ron….you fancy me. And I suppose—yes, I like you too."

Ron's mouth dropped in shock. "You—you said," he sputtered before his face split into a grin. "Hermione, I don't understand you at all. Well, let's get on with it then." He leaned across the table again.

This time their lips did more than graze. Hermione gave a little sigh. She pulled away again.

Ron's jaw dropped. "What're you playing at?" he said defensively.

Hermione looked very sad. "Sit down with me, here," she motioned towards a scarlet, overstuffed couch and turned toward him. "I care about you, Ron," she said quietly. "Oh, but Ron," her eyes were very shiny, she looked as though she were about to cry.

"But Ron what?"

"We can't."

Ron felt as though something had dropped in his stomach. "Well, why not? I thought you were all logical and straight forward Hermione. I like you, you like me, of course we can. Hermione—I—"

"Harry."

Ron's voice had a sharp edge, "I'm Ron, not Harry. Don't tell me you—you—"

Hermione shook her head. "No, of course not. Listen, Ron, Harry needs us now, more than ever. We—we—look. Voldemort's back, really back, you know that."

"Course I know that. What's wrong with a big of kissing then?"

"Harry's got an awful lot on his mind," Hermione continued, giving heavy weight to her words. "He's not over Sirius' death. You know that, he tries to hide it but….we're the closest ones he has now. And the very last thing he needs is for his friends to leave him."

"We're not leaving him—"

Hermione sighed miserably. "Of course we're not. But that's how he'll view it, don't you see? He'll feel like a—a—third wheel. We can't do that to him. He needs us more than ever."

"Well why doesn't he get a girlfriend then!?" he said angrily. Hermione let out a brisk laugh.

"Get a girlfriend and cover the hole left by Sirius, you mean?" she said dryly.

"Yeah, why not?"

"What kind of relationship is that? Remember what Cho did, after Cedric's death. It won't mean anything. He needs real, solid, platonic relationships," Hermione said slowly. She took Ron's hand. "Not now…we….we just can't."

Ron leaned his forehead on Hermione's. Their faces were inches apart. Hermione's voice faltered, "We can't."

But their lips were drawing closer and….Ron felt so warm, so secure. Hermione fell against him. They kissed for several minutes until, it was finally Ron, who pulled away.

"Well, why doesn't he go out with Ginny then?" he blurted out. Hermione let out a peal of laughter. She drew closer to him and he put his arm around her. "You've never hugged me before, you know that?" she said quietly.

"I'm sure I have," Ron said a bit stupidly as he cuddled closer.

"Mmmm…" Hermione said vaguely. She moved her head so that it was resting on Ron's shoulder.

"We fit perfect together," he murmured as she nestled closer into his shoulder.

Hermione let out a sad sigh. She didn't let go of Ron's hand.