A week went by. Harry didn't stop smiling, Hermione didn't grow bored of the castle, and Ron found that his feeling of uneasiness didn't go away. He was still worried about Harry, despite Madam Pomfey's polite replies to his letters, saying that he was perfectly fine and if he wasn't, she'd know about it. Ron had tried to mention it casually to Hermione, but she had only laughed and told him that he worried too much.

It wasn't just that he was worried about Harry though. He was worried about something more, but he couldn't quite work out what it was. He'd expected the empty castle to feel more comfortable after a few days, but it still felt ominous and suspiciously quiet.

"Well what do you expect? Of course it's quiet, there's nobody else here," Hermione said, when Ron caught her by the kitchens and told her his worries. She wore a slightly hopeless frown, having returned from telling the house elves what they'd have for dinner, and trying to persuade them to let her at least chop the vegetables or even lay the table.

"I know, but it just feels. badly quiet. Like something's going to happen." Ron spoke awkwardly, his words in a rush, as they made their way back up the stairs to their dormitory.

"Nothing's going to happen, Ron. Dumbledore's probably around somewhere, and I think Filch is still here."

"What's Filch going to do?" Ron asked, scornfully. "Give them detentions till they die?"

"Give who detentions?"

"I don't know," Ron admitted, as though his words had surprised himself. "Whoever makes the bad things happen."

Hermione laughed. "Really, Ron, nobody would believe you were fifteen, if it wasn't for your height."

Ron blushed, but Hermione continued. "Anyway, Filch could raise the alarm and get help very easily if necessary. There are all manner of people in the area that we just don't necessarily see. So stop worrying."

"I can't help it." Ron squirmed. "It just all feels so. uncomfortable."

"Well you'd better cheer up before tomorrow," Hermione said. "Because before I went to the kitchens, we got an owl from Ginny. She's coming to visit for the day, tomorrow."

*****

The news of Ginny's visit cheered Ron up, a little. Perhaps something familiar would take his mind off things, let him relax.

"Although of course, Hermione is familiar," Ron mused to Harry, kneeling on the floor and leaning his elbows on the bed. "Perhaps overly familiar. Sometimes she's just so annoying. Well, you know she can be sometimes, but when you're spending forever with her it's worse. Especially because we have nothing to do."

"We have all kinds of things to do," Hermione said, making Ron jump guiltily because he hadn't heard her come in. She showed no signs of hearing the first part of what he'd said however, focussing only on the last sentence. "We've got the whole library to look at, without stupid people throwing paper aeroplanes or trying to sneak into the restricted section - no, Ron," she said quickly, seeing his excited look. "Don't get any ideas, we'll still not be able to get in, even though it's the holidays."

Ron fell back to being bored. "The library is not exciting."

"There's the house elves to talk to, they're not as busy at the moment so they have time to talk. They tell fascinating stories, you know."

"Not interested in that, either."

"Really, Ron, what does interest you, then?"

Ron sat up, looking excited. "Quidditch!"

*****

Hermione had never been a particularly confident flyer, and had never had any real aspirations to play Quidditch, being a realistic thinker and knowing that she'd never be able to concentrate up there.

"Come on," Ron cried, poised in front of the goal hoops, ready for her attempt to score.

"Don't rush me," Hermione insisted, and tried to focus on the Quaffle in her hand. It felt lighter than she'd expected, and it was wriggling impatiently in her hand. It's almost like the netball they'd played in primary school, she told herself, only the trouble was, she hadn't been any good at that, either. She took a deep breath, and prepared to score, only at that moment, the Quaffle leapt out of her hands and began to do laps around the pitch.

"Why did it do that?" Hermione gasped, in surprise, and almost falling off her broom.

"It probably got bored of you sitting around all day." Ron rolled his eyes. "Go and get it."

"No, I don't want to."

"I'll go then," Ron said, importantly, and charged across the pitch, and then swerved violently left by mistake. "I thought perhaps it was heading in that direction," He called out, quickly. "But obviously it was a double bluff."

Hermione giggled, as the Quaffle, who had shown no signs of even noticing Ron was there, began to weave in and out of the goal hoops, encouraging a breathless Ron to hurry back.

"Actually, this is quite fun," Hermione said, as she flew carefully over to rescue Ron from where he was hanging precariously from the goal hoop, the agitated Quaffle in his mouth, and his broomstick in his other hand.

"You would say that," he grumbled, "You're not actually doing anything. Can you take my broom from me, and hold it steady?"

"I want to hold on with both hands," Hermione said, a little pathetically, remembering what had happened when she'd taken her hand off the broom to hold the Quaffle.

"Well, how else am I going to get down?" Ron said, annoyed. "Hurry up, my hand's aching."

"You'll just have to climb on mine, in front of me," Hermione said, trying to sound firm. She had had enough of flying now, and perhaps the experience would be nicer with Ron in charge of the broom. Besides, she couldn't see any other way of getting him down.

Ron sighed. "If that's the only way you'll help me. If you can't even be brave enough to save your best friend's life."

"Just get on, will you?" Hermione tried to manoeuvre the broom as close as possible to him, shifting backwards, and Ron settled down in front of her with a bump. Hermione gave a little squeal, and the broom rocked jerkily, pushing downwards until Ron let go of the Quaffle and grabbed the broom, pulling it upwards again.

"Don't panic like that!" He said, crossly, the shock from the near-accident getting to him.

"I didn't mean to!" Hermione shot back. "I was frightened!"

"There's no need to be frightened with me in control of the broom." Ron dodged the Quaffle, which had started doing laps again, and headed towards the lake.

"Ron! No!" Hermione clung tightly to him, and shut her eyes. "I don't like flying, you know I don't!"

"I know," Ron said, trying to be a little more comforting. "But I want to have some fun! You'll be fine, don't worry, I wouldn't let you fall. Think of all those times I've gone with you to the library cuz you were desperate for fun."

"Alright then." Hermione spoke quietly, "But not for long."

"Can you try squeezing me a little less tight?" Ron asked, "Or we might just have an accident."

Hermione obediently loosened her grip. She buried her face in Ron's shoulder as they passed over the lake, its surface rippling in the afternoon breeze. They were flying into the wind and the air felt cool against her, her hair blowing back behind her.

"Go on, look, it's looks beautiful," Ron said, gazing down below.

Hermione gingerly lifted her head, and opened her eyes. "There's that romantic side of you again," She said, giggling nervously.

"But it does look beautiful, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted. "It does."

It was late in the afternoon. The horizon was beginning to redden, as the sun moved lower in the sky, and the moon was visible behind a few wisps of cloud. Shadows from the trees fell across the edge of the lake, and all that could be seen in the water there was dark reflections. In the centre of the lake, Hermione could see themselves reflected in the water, rippling and barely visible but for Ron's orange hair and her own bushy hair flying out behind them. Self-consciously she tugged at it, trying to keep it still.

"Look!" said Ron, excitedly. "The first star!"

"That's not a star, Ron, that's Venus. Don't you pay any attention in Astrology?"

"Don't spoil it, Hermione," Ron said quietly.

"I'm sorry." Hermione fell silent after her apology. They were circling the lake now, and the Quaffle zoomed past them occasionally.

"Don't you think it'd be really nice to be up here at sunset?" Ron thought aloud, and then was suddenly aware of what he'd said. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say!" He said playfully, before Hermione could say anything.

Hermione smiled. "It would be nice at sunset, yes." She didn't say anything about his other comment, and after a while, Ron spoke again:

"Hermione."

"Yes, Ron?"

"You know what you say about me being romantic?"

"Yes, Ron."

He could tell she was smiling, and he quickly went on. "Is that a good thing? I mean, er. do girls like that or will they just think I'm a bit. you know, effeminate?"

"I think it's charming, Ron," Hermione said, affectionately.

"Yeah but. it's not really you who matters is it? I mean." Ron tailed off, suddenly embaressed.

"I know. Well I think a lot of girls would find it charming," Hermione reassured him. "And more importantly, they'd want you to be yourself."

"I suppose so."

There was silence again. Hermione felt as though she getting used to the flight now, or at least, the way it flew smoothly under Ron's control, rather than the unstable jerkiness of when she was in charge. She leaned forward and rested her head on Ron's shoulder.

"You're not closing your eyes again are you? It's still beautiful!"

"I know, I've got my eyes open, I'm just tired, that's all."

"How can you be tired? It's nowhere near bedtime, and we have hardly done anything today!"

"All the doing nothing wore me out." Hermione smiled sleepily, arms squeezing Ron a little tighter again, but he didn't complain.

"Shall we go back to the castle, then?" He asked.

"If you've finished having fun."

"I think this'll do for today." He turned the broom around, caught the speeding Quaffle with one hand, and headed back home.

A/N Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! I'm sorry this one took a while, I've been all out of inspiration recently. I've already started the next chapter, however, and it'll be up very shortly! If it isn't, or if you just want to say hello, email me! It'll probably get me back into feeling creative. And thanks to Jo for beta reading this!