CHAPTER TWO

"What I'm trying to say- very inarticulately- is that…perhaps…despite appearances…I like you."
"Apart from the drinking, and the smoking, and the vulgar mother- oh, and the verbal diarrhea-"
"No, I like you very much. Just as you are."
Colin Firth and Renee Zellwegger, BRIDGET JONES'S DIARY

A four hour train journey and two buses was what it took to get to Ottery St Catchpole. Hermione didn't mind. She spent the journey thinking comfortably of Ron, and their reunion. He had told her in his last owl that he'd be waiting at the bus stop for her for the two thirty pm bus. It had been almost a month since she last saw him. The separation seemed to be a reminder of just how strong her feelings for him were. Maybe she really was in love with him. She hadn't been sure, for a time. They'd been friends for so long, it was still very hard for her even to use the word "boyfriend" when describing Ron. It all seemed a bit…unnatural, sometimes. As though it were forced- and Hermione sometimes wondered if it was, on Ron's part.

Lately more than one person had brought up the fact that perhaps Ron wasn't everything one could want in a boyfriend, and Hermione happened to agree. He was shy and too prosaic to be romantic; he over-reacted and over-analysed and over-simplified; he was inarticulate and awkward when it came to feelings, and sometimes seemed to rate Quidditch training over spending time with her. And yet she loved him. She would definitely go so far as to say she was falling in love with him, which was a different matter entirely. She knew that Ron had changed- for her, he claimed- and she knew that she had changed as well. They had matured and grown and curbed their rotten tempers…and yet sometimes Hermione felt as though she was eight years again playing Let's Pretend games with her best friend of the time, Rory Smythington. They used to pretend to be husband and wife, feeling ever so grown up as they held hands and talked about Meetings, The Office, and What They Would Have For Dinner.

Before their first kiss, if Ron so much as breathed near her, Hermione's heart would beat like a drum until she was dizzy. But she never got that feeling any more, and sometimes she had to wonder if all they were doing was playing Let's Pretend. Maybe they were just…just friends who held hands.

I'm being silly again, she thought, with a smile. A friend certainly wouldn't kiss her the way Ron had on the last day of term- and in front of the rest of Gryffindor common room too! Ron almost never kissed her when they were in public. Why, she had practically gone weak at the knees…! But then, other times…it was always hard to gauge what he was thinking. He seemed perfectly content to talk about Quidditch for hours on end but became suddenly deaf, dumb and blind whenever she asked him remotely related to emotional matters. Hermione wasn't stupid, of course, and she hadn't expected Ron to suddenly turn into a sort of ginger-haired Romeo from the moment they had admitted their feelings to each other. Ron was opinionated, certainly, but he was never particularly eager to talk about matters of the heart. Herrmione knew this above all people, but sometimes it felt like he was…uncomfortable around her. Things were shy enough between them as it was, and it was disheartening to her that Ron was never particularly sensitive towards this fact.

But she didn't expect a miracle. He was waiting for her at the bus stop and that was enough for at her at the moment. She couldn't wait to see him. (or maybe she had just convinced herself of that?)

It was three o'clock by the time Hermione reached Ottery St Catchpole and there she found not just Ron, but Ginny, Fred and George as well. It was touching of them, and it warmed her heart to see her four favourite freckled redheads waving madly at her as the creaky old bus pulled up into the cobbled streets of Ottery St Catchpole. She put a full stop at the end of the last sentence she had written on her journal- and of course, I shouldn't expect miracles- and collected her things eagerly.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried, rushing to the bus doors to meet her as they swung open.

"Thanks!" Hermione called over her shoulder to the bus driver before she was swept into a hug by Ginny. The girl was at least a foot higher than Hermione even though she was a year younger and hence Hermione was brought off the ground for a few moments before Ginny set her down again. "It's so good to see you!"

"I know, I know!" Ginny cried, nodding enthusiastically. "I heard you got twelve OWLs!"

"Yeah," said Fred, bending down to deliver a kiss to Hermione's cheek. "It's a good thing I like you, Mione, or I'd never speak to you again. My religion doesn't usually permit fraternising with Owlers."

"Yeah," echoed George, kissing Hermione's other cheek, "Mind you, if we hear that you become Head Girl next year, I'm afraid that's the end of our friendship."

"It's bad enough that you're a Prefect," agreed Fred. "The only reason we let you live is because you're practically family."

As if that were a cue, they made way for Ron, like they had planned the whole thing. He was the same lanky, freckled, bright eyed creature she had hugged goodbye for five whole minutes at the end of June. His hair was perhaps a little more sun streaked, and his nose perhaps a little frecklier. He had grown just one more inch, and he looked as whippy and energetic as he always did, with his beautiful lop-sided grin curving up one side of his face so that the dimple in his cheek deepened, and his hair aflame in the light of the sun.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she echoed, managing to sound less breathless than she felt. Her hands were free (she had dropped her bags when Ginny accosted her) so she stepped forwards and did what she'd been thinking about for the past four months- she hugged Ron. Because their kisses were still bashful and not extremely frequent, their hugs were always loaded with their pent up affection. For a moment, Ron's embrace was so tight it took Hermione's breath away. Then the twins started up- as she knew they would- with their whistling and their "woo-woo"ing and Ron immediately stiffened. Hermione pulled her hands away from his waist. So much for the reunion.

"Leave it alone," Hermione heard Ginny say as Ron reached behind her to grab her bags. The five of them set off on a brisk walk out of the village, filling her in on holiday news, the most exciting of which being that Fleur Weasley (nee Delacour) was pregnant with her and Bill Weasley's first child. Hermione had been told this three days ago when they first heard the news, but was entertained with a recount of just how exciting it was by Fred, George and Ginny- Ron seemed to be comfortable staying mute.

"So, any idea of when it's due?"

"Nine months from now, duh," said George, slapping her playfully on the backside. She jumped, and both twins snickered. She berated them silently with a deadly glare, which they seemed to find even more amusing.

"Come on Hermione, if you ever want to be our sister-in-law you're expected to give us a little fun," said George.

"Yeah, why can't you be more like Fleur?"

"I'm not blonde, I'm not six feet tall, I'm not part Veela, and I'm not French, but I'll give it a go," Hermione said sarcastically. "Also, I'm not married to one of your brothers."

"Yet," said three voices at once. Hermione turned to glare at Ginny, who blushed.

"Sorry, couldn't help it." she mumbled. Hermione glanced at Ron from the corner of her eye. Was it her imagination, or did he look distinctly pale? So much for the reunion, she thought sourly. We haven't even been each other's company five minutes and it already seems like I'm planning our wedding. This isn't going to help things at all…

"Ginny," Hermione said quickly, to change the subject, "how did you go in your exams?"

Conversation was pleasant all the way back to the Burrow but all Hermione could think about was how unsatisfying their short embrace was. She'd been thinking of him practically non-stop (well, him and the results of her OWLs) and two seconds of hugging him was not going to compensate for the amount of hours she'd spent devoted to thinking about him, reading and re-reading his letters, and looking at all of her photos of both of them.

So, when they had gotten back to The Burrow and Ron had led her up to Ginny's room, where she was staying, as usual, she put her arms around him the moment he had set down her bags.

"Good to see you too," he grinned. Hermione decided to have a go at being spontaneous- she brought both hands up to his face, pulled him down to her and kissed him firmly. Ron was obviously shocked- in fact it took him a second or two to respond.

"Hermione- hey- Hermione," he said between her fast, firm kisses. "Hermione- ow!"

She drew away. "What's the matter?"

"You're standing on my foot-"

"Oh- oh, sorry…"

"No, it's okay," Ron said. He looked at her, looked out the window, and gave an awkward laugh. "Just don't- pull me down like that without warning me."

"Sorry," said Hermione. She folded her arms and sat down on the bed. "Sorry." There was a very awkward silence. Why? Hermione was thinking furiously, why, if you love me so much do you always-

Ron had walked over and gently shut the door. Then he sat down next to her on the bed. He reached over and unfolded her arms and held both of her hands in his. "I've really, really missed you. Hermione?"

She looked at him. In his eyes there was the look he had worn on the day that they had first kissed in the kitchen of the Burrow. She sighed, letting all her anger dissolve. "Oh, Ron…"

Then he kissed her the Ron way- gently, gentlemanly, and so sweetly it made Hermione wonder of this was the same boy who had once argued with her at screaming volume from the other side of the common room. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened, pulling him closer, trying to feel how he felt- did he love her still?

"Hermione," Ron said, extricating her arms from around his neck the moment she tried to pull him down onto the bed next to her. "No- look, I…I…I don't think I can do this right now. I'm so glad you're here-" and here he paused to plant a tender kiss on her forehead, "-but I've got to help mum with dinner, and Fred and George need me to stack some boxes in the car before they fly to London, and we'll catch up in a few hours, okay?" he was on his feet before he'd finished talking, walking towards the door. Hermione stayed on the bed, feeling very much like an idiot. Ron paused before opening the door. Then he sighed.

"Come here," he said, pulling her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her very tightly, and they relaxed into their usual embracing stance. Hermione's right hand wrapped around his waist while her left rubbed slowly up and down his back; Ron's right hand dropped around to the small of her back while his left travelled up her spine and into the crook of her neck, playing gently with her mass of curls. "I'm so glad you're here," he whispered, very quietly into her hair.

"I wish I could believe it," Hermione was tempted to say.