A/N This chapter has been written for over a week but I'm afraid it's also been packed away in boxes until today which is why there was such a delay in posting it. Thanks to everyone who stuck to the story and is reading this right now and thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far; you guys all rule and make my day.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter, etc. are the intellectual property of JKR; no infringement is intended.

Chapter 3: Not Made of Sugar

Ron had been acting bizarrely all week. Hermione herself had been a little nervous at first, especially after Wednesday's incident in the Great Hall. She had kissed him; she hadn't meant to, had been caught up in the joy and knowledge that she had the two best friends in the world and had in fact been aiming for his cheek. Despite her limited experience (her non-existent experience) she knew the feel of lips when she experienced it. Lips and cheeks, they really didn't compare in the feeling department; for one, Harry's cheek had felt rugged and slightly prickly against the softer skin of her chin and lips. She knew from experience that Ron's cheek would feel much the same—the slightly rougher texture of a man's skin and the prickly feeling of a beard growing back in despite having been shaved that morning. She hadn't kissed Ron very often—a peck on his birthday or when he did something especially sweet—and the same went for Harry.

When you were as close as they all were, there was a degree of comfort that was only natural to attain and occasional kisses in times of distress or happiness were not abnormal. His lips, though…had she not that very week been observing them? Had she not longed to know how they would feel? Soft yet firm, moist, warm, inviting and more addictive than even the most interesting of books or sweetest of desserts. She had only broken away from the shock of realizing that she was indeed kissing him…really kissing him. The withdrawal that she had felt when she'd pulled away, the tingling that had remained despite the lack of contact had been overwhelming. No wonder Ron had been acting so weird. He was probably mortified even if he hadn't mentioned anything. Here this was the single most exciting moment of Hermione's life and she couldn't even talk about it. The worst, though, the worst was that now she could think of nothing but of how it would feel to recreate the moment.

When Ron had washed her hair, his hands gently moving over her scalp, over the back of her exposed neck, his leg pressed up against her side…she had never felt more aware of him than at that moment and afterwards, when he had innocently wiped away the stray drop of water running down her jaw she'd felt more drawn to him than ever before. She'd wanted to kiss him, had wanted him to kiss her, and was eternally grateful when Harry had come in before she'd lost all control and did something that potentially could have ruined her friendship with Ron forever. She really was hopeless, wasn't she? How was it that she hadn't seen this coming? How was it that she had fallen so hard for her best friend?

"Hey, Herm, wanna grab some lunch?" Well speak of the devil. Though Ron had been acting a little off-color lately, always muttering to himself and turning red for no apparent reason, Hermione thought he finally seemed back to his own self that morning.

"Ron, my name is Hermione, not…oh, never mind."

"I know, I know, but I'm starting to realize just how bloody long your name is to say." She shot him a dirty look. "Not that it's not an absolutely lovely name, of course, just a mouthful that's all…kind of like you can be a handful," then as if realizing that he hadn't improved the situation, "but in a good way…like a handful of sweets or something." It was probably the closest thing to a compliment he'd ever given her.

"Are you done trying to dig yourself out of that bottomless pit yet?" she chuckled; she gave him a hard time but she always meant well.

"You know, once upon a time you would have been pretty upset at the fact that I'd just sworn," Ron grinned at her, making her stomach flip. She stood from the sofa where she'd been reading, deciding that it would be much simpler to speak to him if she didn't have to look directly into his eyes.

"Just because I haven't yelled at you yet does not mean that I'm not upset by it, Ron. It just means that I've come to the realization that no matter what I say you're just not going to listen."

"That's not true. I listen!" he protested as he held the portrait open for her. Of course, because it opened outwards it also meant that his arm was around her…sort of. Her heart didn't seem to know the difference, however, as it was beating madly within her chest.

"Ha! That's the funniest thing I've heard all week! It's a good thing it's Saturday or I might have had to miss class from the shock of it all."

"Ha, ha, Hermione; you know I listen. After all, who was it that sat through your theory on the biographical differences between men and women and why it is that men always go for the shiny object?"

"That's biological differences and you only listened because you disagreed and proceeded to tell me how it's women who are superficial and how even if non-shiny women were to get noticed that they would never realize it for fault of believing that they either a) aren't worthy of being noticed or b) don't consider the bloke noticing them as being good enough for them."

"And I still stand by my convictions, but that's besides the point. The point is that whereas everyone in the common room—including your other best friend Harry Potter—tuned you out after two minutes of ranting, I heard you out to the end and made constructive comments."

Hermione snorted her response. "Speaking of my other best friend, is Harry meeting us in the Great Hall?"

"No," Ron replied, "he was still sleeping when I left and I didn't want to wake him. I left a note on his pillow to let him know where we'll be."

They entered the Great Hall and Ron again held the door open for her.

"Has he been having nightmares again?" Hermione asked, immediately concerned for Harry's well being.

"I don't think so, no," Ron shook his head, "but it seems to me that he goes to bed later and later every night. He doesn't want to take a sleeping draught either, though I don't really blame him for that."

"Maybe we should talk to him," Hermione suggested but Ron shook his head.

"You know Harry; he's less likely to talk about his problems if he's forced to. He'll come to us when he's ready."

"I know, but I feel as though I should be doing something."

"You are, Hermione," Ron said, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly, "you're doing something just by being there," he said and smiled briefly before turning to get his food.

~*~

Had anyone not had a clue about his and Hermione's friendship, Ron always figured that they'd have to do would be to watch them eating together to figure it out. It was even more amusing when Harry was with them, three people eating off every plate but his or her own. Hermione, for example, had taken some salad but was busily scooping up a forkful of rice from his plate while he stabbed his fork at one of the cherry tomatoes on hers and popped it into his mouth, feeling it explode when he bit down on it.

"Mm," he said as she scooped the red onions off her plate and put them on his, "but you like onions," he said.

"I know. I just don't feel like brushing my teeth twenty times after lunch to get rid of the bad breath," she explained.

"Not planning on kissing anyone are you?" he teased, but he hadn't thought before speaking and his words brought to mind images of that night in the Great Hall. He could feel himself turning red and could feel the heat creeping up his neck. It wasn't as though he and Hermione had sat down together and discussed this issue. There was nothing to discuss. When one accidentally brushed up against someone else was it cause enough to sit down and overanalyze the moment to death? Of course not. It hadn't been intentional, Ron reminded himself for the thousandth time. It was a moment that had come and gone and it was best that he just forget about it and move on.

"There you are, Harry!" Hermione spoke beside him, neglecting to answer his question about kissing someone, for which he was both thankful and curious.

"Hi guys," Harry greeted them, sitting next to Ron and picking up a chicken wing from Ron's plate, biting into it a moment later.

"You know, Harry, there's a full tray of those wings right over there," Ron grinned as he stole another of Hermione's cherry tomatoes from her plate.

"I know," Harry answered, grinning though his mouth was full, "but that one looked better," he explained as Hermione reached over him for another scoop of rice.

"What are we doing this afternoon? I don't much feel like studying," Hermione asked, and Harry and Ron both leaned to look at her.

"You feeling all right, Hermione?" Ron asked, furrowing his brow.

"Great, why?"

"It's not really like you not to want to study," Harry said, voicing Ron's thoughts.

"Oh, honestly you two. Contrary to popular belief I don't study all the time and I so happen to feel like taking a bit of a break this afternoon. Besides," she added, almost as an afterthought, "I stayed up late last night finishing our Charms assignment, so I don't have anything else to do right now in the way of school…well except for studying for NEWTs but taking one afternoon should be all right."

"Oh, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," Ron chided, "what are we going to do with you?"

~*~

As it turned out they decided to take her for a walk around the Hogwarts grounds. They walked away from the Quidditch pitch and out to the back of the castle towards the cliffs overhanging the river from which they could get an unobstructed view for several miles below and onto Hogsmeade. Ron and Harry had walked almost to the cliffs' very edge and it was making Hermione's legs feel like wobbly gelatin. Her stomach did somersaults when she watched Ron lean over slightly so he could peer down a drop that was at least fifty meters down.

"Aren't you coming?" Ron turned around when he noticed that she was several feet behind them. Hermione shook her head.

"No, I think I'll just stay here, thanks," she replied. She felt like a complete sod the way she was shaking inside just because of a little height, but she didn't honestly care. Ron was afraid of spiders and Harry had to deal with the fear of a Dark Lord being out for his life; she was allowed her phobia and a fear of heights was it…though it was actually the falling part that made her nervous.

"Oh, come on, Hermione. It's not that high" Ron said, peering over the edge again and causing cold fear to run up her spine, making her shiver so that she had to turn her back on them. She wasn't going to look.

"Ron, you know she doesn't like high places," Harry intervened, walking back to where she stood. Hermione felt his hand on her shoulder and turned to him, giving him a sheepish kind of grin.

"I know. I was just teasing," Ron explained, walking towards them and catching her in a kind of half headlock to ruffle her hair. Hermione suspected he'd learned that move from his brothers.

"Next time I'll tease you with a nice hairy spider and we'll see how much you like that," Harry said, discreetly winking at Hermione to show her that he was jesting. She had to bite down on the insider of her cheek not to smile or laugh…not that Ron would have noticed as she was still trapped under his armpit. Good thing he'd decided to wear deodorant that morning. It smelled good. She looked up at his face and despite her efforts felt the corner of her lips twitch when Ron's eyes bulged to the size of Knuts.

"Relax, Ron," Harry laughed and Ron let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't even joke about that, Harry," Ron said, seeming a little out of sorts, no doubt from the mere thought of the possible eight-legged creature hidden between the sheets of his bed.

"You guys are just cruel, you know that?" Hermione laughed at them as Ron released her and he and Harry began walking towards some nearby boulders where they would be able to sit comfortably. Both boys stopped to look at her.

"What, and you're not?" Harry asked, a rare sort of smile playing over his face.

"I am absolutely not!" Hermione denied, slightly though not seriously appalled at the suggestion.

"Oh yes you are," Ron jumped in as they all sat. "All that homework you force us to do ahead of time and all that studying you tell us to do more of…that's pretty cruel and unusual punishment, you know." Hermione looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Punishment for what, exactly?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Ron sniffed. "All we do is be nice to you and carry your books and be the very best of friends that we possibly can be," at this point he pressed a hand to his chest and looked up as if blinking back tears, swallowing a non-existent lump. "Why, Hermione? Why?" he asked, "choked" up.

"Oh, bugger off," Hermione howled in laughter, pushing him lightly to the side, making him sway to catch his balance. After all the odd behaviour she'd suffered from him that week, she thought that things finally seemed like old times again.

~*~

Ron and Hermione were alone when they began their walk back to the castle, taking the long, more scenic route. Harry had excused himself earlier as he'd promised Neville a game of Snap. Hermione suspected that he was also hoping to run into Ginny Weasley in the Common Room. He'd confessed to her, the year before, that he'd developed feelings for Ron's sister. Nothing had transpired between the two as of yet but Hermione suspected it was only a matter of time before it did.

"What are you thinking about?" Ron asked beside her.

"Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking about Harry and Ginny," she replied and Ron grinned.

"Do you think he'll ever work up the nerve to tell me he fancies her?" Ron had long ago realized the slightly "more than just friends" kind of looks Harry and his sister shared and though Hermione had been sworn to secrecy when Harry had confessed other, she hadn't technically broken her confidence with him when Ron had approached her…merely reinforced what the redhead had already known.

"Maybe you should just tell him that you know and make it easier on him," she suggested.

"Where would be the fun in that?" Ron grinned down at her and she could only shake her head as they continued walking. They hadn't even made it halfway back to the castle when they heard thunder rumble overhead and felt the change in the atmosphere as the skies split open, pouring torrents. Hermione's first instinct was to run for shelter but the path consisted mostly of rocks. Within seconds both she and Ron were soaked through and she could only stand still, head turned upwards in resignation.

"This is just great," she muttered miserably as she looked up at Ron who was grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, you cannot possibly find this amusing can you?" His hair was plastered to his forehead in dark auburn clumps and water ran down his jaw and neck in rivulets. His eyes seemed bluer than usual, framed by wet eyelashes and he looked…happy. Her heart skipped a beat.

"You're not the only one who likes rain, you know," he smiled down at her, running his hand backwards through his hair to get it out of his face and making it stand on end in so doing. Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen him looking sexier, especially with the water soaking through his gray cotton T-shirt, making it cling to his skin and showing off the curve of his chest and bulge of his muscles. She had to remind herself that she shouldn't be feeling these feelings and forcibly forced her gaze away from his body and up to his face where his eyes seem to penetrate to her very core. Dammit.

"I prefer my rain from the comfort of the castle, thank you very much," she said, her voice sounding oddly low and husky to her ears. She tried clearing her throat.

"Now, now, Hermione. You're not made of sugar; you're not going to melt out here," Ron was still grinning and reached down to wipe away a droplet from her chin…one of probably a hundred that were residing on her face. The move sent shockwaves down her spine, however, no matter how innocently he'd meant it. It was Herbology all over again, and Hermione had to find something, say something, that would turn her thoughts away from the incredibly attractive, incredibly wet man standing in front of her and make her see him as her best friend again. She did the first thing that came to mind; she jumped with both feet in a puddle that had quickly been accumulating next to her, sending muddy water all over Ron. Once upon a time she'd been able to ease the tension by starting arguments with him, but now that they'd partially grown out of those arguments, making fun worked just as well.

Ron quickly recovered from his initial shock, though Hermione was too busy laughing at him to notice, the side of his face covered in muddy streaks as his mouth hung open in surprise. She hadn't come out unscathed herself, but muddy shoes and pants were about the extent of the damage she'd suffered from her jump. "You are so going to pay for that," Ron wiped his face with his hand, and a large smile played over his face. Hermione felt like a child again as she began giggling in excited fear and ran in the other direction. She screamed in delight when she heard Ron's long strides quickly catching up to her and his arms sneak around her waist as he grabbed her for retaliation.

~*~

The surprise on everyone's face had been apparent when she and Ron had walked into the castle, covered from head to toe in mud, soaked through, and shivering slightly. She could feel the grin playing over her face and could see it mirrored on Ron's. She'd had the best time of her life out there in the rain, and okay; Ron was still sexy as hell, even when he was dirty and muddy and soaked, but for a moment she'd been able to push that to the back of her mind and just have fun with him; fun that she hadn't had in years and planned to repeat the very next time it rained. It had been a wonderful afternoon.

Stepping out of the shower and performing a drying spell on her hair, she put on some dry, warm clothes, and slipped on a pair of woolen socks that Ron's mother had knitted for him and that he'd outgrown before he'd had them for two weeks. She'd had them since their fifth year and loved them. Ron didn't know she'd stolen them from him.

She left the girls' dormitory and headed for the boys'. The plan had been to meet Ron downstairs in the common room and find Harry to have dinner, but she still had fifteen minutes before they'd decided to regroup so she decided just to meet him in his room and make things quicker. The door was slightly ajar and she knocked.

"You can come in, Harry," she heard Ron say from the other side, and she smiled, pushing the door open, the words "Since when is my name Harry?" on the tip of her tongue, though they caught in her throat.

Her heart stopped beating at what she saw and Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever breathe again.