Chapter 2: Peeping Ron

Ron slowly headed down the stairs from the boys dormitory. It surprised him to see light flickering from the common room entrance. He couldn't imagine who was still up at this hour, especially after the all-day celebration that had gone on after the match. He stopped when he reached the entrance to the common room. He didn't hear any voices, but he also didn't want to walk in on any snogging classmates. He peered out into the room and a smiled played across his lips as he laid eyes on the one and only Hermione Granger. He chuckled inwardly. He should have figured.

It was classic Hermione. There she was wrapped in her long white dressing gown, sitting sideways on the burgundy plush couch in front of a blazing fire. Her legs were tucked underneath her and she was leaning over a large book that was propped open against the arm of the couch. She was biting her bottom lip and tapping a finger rhythmically on her knee. She was, of course, reading intently.

Ron felt a bit of the tension in his body subside. It was a familiar image, a comforting image. Somehow, if she was okay then he was okay. He realized that was probably oversimplifying their relationship, but there were moments when he knew it was just that simple.

He watched her for a few more minutes, letting the image calm him. He didn't regret being overly protective of her. He would always try to spare her pain.any kind of pain. He just didn't know how to do be any other way. He thought about making his presence known but decided not to disturb her. He felt a bit better and it was quite late. Plus if he knew Hermione, and he did, he was probably in for a lecture for his earlier actions. Somehow, it was nicer just to chalk this up to one of those overly simplified.moments.

He turned to head back up the stairs when he heard a rustling noise and froze. He thought he might have been spotted, but Hermione had only reached down for another large book, which she propped open in front of the other. She looked ready to settle in for some more light reading but the nearby fire caught her attention and she turned her head towards it. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. She seemed to fall deep into thought as she gazed into the fire.

Ron watched her watch the flames. The glowing fire illuminated her face flickering over her smooth skin and making her big brown eyes shine. Ron smiled to himself. Her eyes sparkled the same way they did whenever he said something that particularly annoyed her and she was just about to let him have it. The flames picked up the gold and auburn highlights of her hair, which was twisted in a loose ever-curly ponytail trailing down her back. She rested her chin in the palm of her hand while the other hand pushed a stray curl away from her face, only to have it float in slow motion back to its original place. Ron was as mesmerized watching Hermione as she was watching the flames. He suddenly wished he knew what she was thinking about.

He jumped slightly as Hermione suddenly broke her intense gaze and rose up on her knees. She began undoing the belt of her white dressing gown. Ron eyes grew large. Why the devil was she undressing in the middle of the common room, where anyone could walk in? Was she expecting someone? KRUM? What game was she playing at? His mind went through a dozen more completely irrational scenarios before one logical explanation took hold and it dawned on him she was probably just warm from the fire. Hermione slid her dressing gown off her arms, carefully folded it and laid it over the back of the couch. Ron had to stifle a gasp and almost tripped down the stairs when he saw what she was wearing. A giant smug grin spread across his freckled features that no paralysis curse could have prevented.

No, she wasn't clad in sexy red lingerie or black leather dominatrix attire, but the sight of Hermione wearing his bright orange Chudley Cannons t-shirt was just as surprising and completely amusing. He knew he hadn't lost that shirt. He vaguely remembered letting her borrow it over the summer when she had stayed at the burrow for a few days, but then it had vanished. It was one of his older Canon shirts and he considered it lucky and had usually worn it to watch Cannon Matches. Even though his mum had denied it, he had figured she had finally disposed of it since he would never let her mend it (could affect its luck potential) and she was always referring to it as that horrible, moth-eaten, holey-thing.

As his initial amusement faded he realized that right now his shirt didn't look too holey or horrible. First of all Hermione had clearly mended some of the larger rips and holes (why didn't women understand about luck potential?) Secondly, Hermione wore the shirt differently then he remembered. She had the short sleeves pushed up to her shoulders and although it was probably five sizes too large for her petite frame, she had the material gathered in a knot on one side so that his shirt actually looked rather.form fitting on her. She also had on a pair of white pajama pants made of some kind of silky looking material that came to her mid-hip level. He swallowed, realizing he probably shouldn't be staring at his best friends hips, or the small of her back, or her navel, or curvaceous.enough!

Ron forced himself to look away. He was not some pervy peeping tom after all. It was Hermione. Just familiar, brilliant, amusing, clever, irritating.he glanced back at her.. pretty.. damn.. sexy.Hermione. No! This was not an appropriate way to be thinking about his best friend. It never was. Ron sighed and leaned against the stonewall in frustration.big mistake!

"Ow! Owww! OWWW!"

He had been standing still for so long he had forgotten about his painful condition, but the sudden contact with the wall was an instant reminder. The bolt of pain caused him to seize up and lose his balance. He felt himself falling towards the ground. So much for not making his presence known.

A/N: I said eventually there is a massage.you'll just have to wait and see. ( Thank you for the reviews and thank you to my beta.