A/N: For some reason chapter nine went up, but never published to the "Romance" section where anyone could read it. I hope that doesn't happen when I post this one. So, if you have been following this story (I have 30 reviews! I love you all!) Then here is two chapters for you! Lucky you. Anyhow, this is a transitional chapter that was a devil to write, but I had to get them to the burrow, so here is the awkward chapter that gets them there. I don't know why, but this chapter seems shorter than all the others. Maybe it is, maybe it's not, I don't know. Anyway, I left you with major fluff in the end to tide you over until the next chapter is posted. Read. Enjoy. REVIEW!



Chapter 10

~Hermione~

"Hello!" Arthur Weasley, as jovial and shining as ever, waved to us from across the platform.

"Hello Mr. Weasley," said Harry, as we approached.

"Hi Harry, how was the train ride?" he grinned, his cheeks bulging.

Ginny dropped her trunk heavily next to Harry's, "Lovely as always. Hi Dad."

"Hello Ginny dear," he replied, as she hugged him gently and patted his balding head.

"Hi Mr. Weasley. How are you?" I asked, smiling at him.

"I'm very well, as always," he chuckled slightly, "My, you have grown into a very beautiful young lady."

I blushed, "You are too kind Mr. Weasley."

"Hitting on pretty teenage girls now dad? Mum will not be happy." Ron's voice dripped amusement as he shook his father's hand and was pulled into a sloppy, fatherly hug.

"No, I am not lad. But speaking of your mother, she has been chomping at the bit to have you all home, so let's not keep her waiting any longer, shall we?"

*****

An hour later we pulled up to the only other place in the world besides Hogwarts where I felt completely safe. With it's sagging roof, weeping willows, and the creak on the very first porch step, the Burrow filled me with a strange sense of rightness that couldn't be entirely explained.

With my trunk in hand, I walked toward the front door. A swift breeze blew, sweeping my hair back and I closed my eyes breathing in the basil-scented air. The wind chime jingled.

*creak*

I was home.

The front door burst open and out flew Mrs. Weasley. With a flourish she quickly hugged all of us, asking about our trip and telling us what a wonderful time we were going to have. I heaved my trunk through the door and over to one of the well-worn couches. A dish was washing in the sink, napkins were folding and stacking themselves, and the clock's images of Ginny and Ron (among others) hung underneath "home". I smiled at that. I needed to get myself one of those someday. I heard clinking of bottles in the kitchen. Someone else was home for Christmas.

Walking around the corner I saw a scrawny bum sticking out of the refrigerator. It was one of the twins rummaging for food. This, was going to be a VERY interesting holiday. With everything that has happened between Ron and I since term started I can imagine that it will only be a matter of time before the twins notice the tension and then we'll never hear the end of it.

"You need to get a fridge of your own." I said chuckling and crossing my arms in front of me.

All at once he tried to spin around, and stand, causing him to bump his head, stumble back and drop a jar of strawberry jam, which crashed to the floor and ended up in pieces.

For a moment there was a silence punctuated by the crash, "You know, you used to be a nice girl."

It was George and he smiled.

"I am still a nice girl, you and Fred have just rubbed off on me a bit." I walked over to the mess and clicked my tongue.

"Better take care of this." he waved his wand and the mess was gone, "So, here for Christmas, or is this just a detour?"

George had always been my favorite twin. Where Fred was the louder, more troublesome brother, George was normally more subdued, and he was the more logical of the two. Fred would get an idea for a great joke, George would be able to think upon it and make it happen. They were a brilliant team, but I personally had always preferred George for he was less apt to tease than Fred was.

"No, I am here for the holiday. Harry, Ron, and Ginny are just behind me but, last I saw your mum had them in a death grip."

George grinned at that, "She's a very emotional woman these days."

"I think she misses you all now that you and Fred have moved out and Ron's almost done with Hogwarts." my breath caught a little in my throat as I realized what that meant. It was Ron's last year at Hogwarts...it was MY last year at Hogwarts.

"A little scary isn't it? Your last year at Hogwarts. I can't believe that Ron is almost eighteen." George gave an uncharacteristic sigh and then shrugged, his face lighting up again jokingly, "It's good to have you all back for the holidays."

"Yeah, it's good to be...home." I smiled.

He started past me to greet his siblings, "By the way...Ron was right, the past year has been VERY good to you."

I smiled, George had always been my favorite twin.

*****

That night after everyone was greeted, fed, and sent happily up to bed. I lay awake unable to even pretend to sleep.

*Ron was right...the past year has been VERY good to you.*

George's words kept echoing in my head. What did that mean? Was it just a comment, thrown into a letter as an innocent observation? Did it mean something more? Hadn't I made the same observation about him to Ginny a hundred different times? What if she was just as free with that information to Ron as George had been with me. No, Ginny would never do that.

I was so confused and giddy that sleep was obsolete. I waited until I knew Ginny was completely asleep and I crept down to the boy's door and turned the knob carefully to peek inside. I crouched down and squinted to the other side of the room where Ron was lying, face up on his bed...awake.

I took the opportunity to stare. He had his arms folded behind his head and he was gazing out the closed window. Moonlight poured in over his face, highlighting his features. His covers were pulled down to his waist and he apparently slept shirtless. Merlin he was adorable. I felt exposed out in the hall, so I quietly snuck in and over to him, noting that I was indeed safe, for I could here Harry's soft snoring from across the room.

Ron didn't notice my presence until I tapped his shoulder from my position on the floor, crouched next to his bed.

"Ron." I whispered. He looked a bit startled as his head snapped toward me. His face erupted into a gorgeous smile and he propped himself up on his elbow so he was facing me.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked quietly, trying not to wake Harry. His amusement was evident.

"I couldn't sleep. I don't really know why I'm here, but I was going to ask if you wanted to go downstairs and talk for while." I scooted a little closer and I could smell his shampoo.

He leaned in and grinned wider, "Like last time?"

I smiled, "Yeah, like last time."

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and he grabbed my hand, "Come on."

"Ron!" he swiftly pulled me to my feet, the muscles in his arm flexing. That no shirt thing was trouble. I giggled.

"Sssh." he turned around and put his finger up to my lips and a warm feeling dropped to the bottom of my stomach. There was a tense moment when no sound except deep breathing was between us.

He jerked his head toward the door and we crept out into the hall and down the stairs to the kitchen table. I sat down in one of the kitchen chairs and propped my head up on my folded hands, while Ron went to the cupboard and got out two cups and a teapot.

"Cocoa?" he asked.

"Why yes, bartender, I would love some." I watched as he heated some milk on the stove and sifted two tablespoons of powdered cocoa into the cups and poured the warm milk over it.

"Here," he said, handing me my cup and sitting down opposite me to nurse his own mug.

"Where did you learn to make cocoa? Did your mum teach you?"

"No, Charlie did. We used to stay up late on Saturdays when mum and dad went out dancing. I liked those nights when Charlie was living at home and he would stay here to watch Ginny and me."

"Your mum and dad used to go out dancing?" I smiled.

"Yeah, they were quite the wild pair when we were little. They laughed, and danced, and DRANK like nobody else." he shook his head as if to say "those crazy kids."

"No." I said, scandalized.

"Oh yeah. Think about it Hermione, they have SEVEN kids. They were WILD and from what Bill and Charlie say, they were simply mad in love with each other. They have calmed down considerably, but sometimes, when mum has a little too much egg nog, watch out, they practically race each other to the bedroom." we laughed and then quieted, realizing that we were talking about his parent's love life.

"You know, when I was little I always wanted to watch those Saturday night romance movies. The women were always so beautiful and the men were hansom in an almost godly way. I used to think I wanted that kind of romance, were everything is picture perfect. But, I think that's overrated. Having problems is what makes or breaks married couples, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. My parents have had their share of troubles. More than their share if you ask me." I saw the look in Ron's eyes and knew that he still hated being poor. He hid it very well now, but it still bothered him.

"You know, my parents got married when they were eighteen. They were going to medical school, living together, and poor as paupers." I smiled, thinking of my parents as a young couple, in love and tooth-obsessed.

"Yeah?" he perked a bit.

"Yeah. Well, my mother's parents were against them getting married, but they did anyway and they moved into these awful student couple flats that were on the school grounds. So, they moved in and found out that their water was...less than drinkable, and so they went to my mum's father and ask him to help, but he wouldn't."

"So, what did they do?" Ron asked, leaning in, interested in the story.

"They had a huge row with my grandparents and they didn't speak for a whole month. Well, during that time, my parents worked in all their spare time to decorate the flat and fix the water. Eventually they fixed it and finished the flat, but it was the water that my dad was the most proud of. So, he filled a glass and they drove over to my mum's parent's house and burst in on them eating dinner." I was talking fast, trying to get to the climax of the story.

Ron's eyes were big around, "With a glass of water?"

"Yes, with a glass of water. And my dad set the glass down in front of my grandfather and said "look, we did this by ourselves. Without your help." And then, my grandfather stood up, took the glass, and drank the whole thing. After he was finished he turned, smiled at my father, and hugged him."

Ron smiled and pushed his mug aside, cocoa forgotten, "So that was it? All was forgiven over a glass of water?"

I laughed at Ron's blessed simplicity for at times it has saved me, "No, silly. Don't you see? My mum and dad were a TEAM. That glass of water was a symbol of their ability to make their marriage work, no matter what obstacles awaited them and it showed my grandfather that my dad could take my mum. I want that. Someone who will take care of me for always." My voice trailed off. I had wadded into dangerously personal waters and now I couldn't go back.

He got a faraway look in his eyes and then he grinned, "You know, I don't think anyone could ever get to know you and NOT want to take care of you. You are just that kind of person."

I trembled at his words, "What does that mean?"

He shrugged, "It's just that...you always try to make sure everyone is doing well. Asking if we're getting enough sleep, if I'm getting enough to eat, and "Honestly Ron, if you'd only do your homework!" I gave him a warning look while trying to suppress a smile.

"I didn't mean that to be bad. It's just, you try to take care of all of us and you forget to take care of yourself. You make us want to do it for you. People can't help but want to take care of you because you can't help taking care of them."

My eyes became a bit watery and I reached across the table to take his hand. He looked tentative at first, but then he entwined his fingers with mine, "Does that go for you too?" I whispered.

His ears turned read and he tightened his large hand around my smaller one, "Yeah, it goes for me, double."

I smirked and looked down at the table. It was a long while before either of us said anything, finally I broke the silence, "Ron."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Hermione."

"I don't want to look like I got no sleep tomorrow, so would you walk me up to my room?"

"Yeah, come on."

I followed Ron up the stairs, past his door and up to Ginny's room. When we got to the door, I turned around, and looked up at Ron. He was standing so close. I reached up with my free hand and touched his cheek.

"Thank you, for staying up with me. I like talking to you without anyone else around. You're different when you're just with me. You listen, and I like that." I turned his head and gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

He stood up straight and smiled at me.

"Goodnight and dream well." he said, giving my hand one last squeeze before reluctantly letting go and turning to walk back down the stairs smiling all the way to his room.

I tried to sneak back into bed, but my cover was blown.

"You really should be more quiet if you are going to sneak downstairs with Ron." Ginny's smug voice startled me and I spun around. She smiled.

"You scared the life out of me!" I said, beaming and settling back into the covers of my cot.

"So...details?" she prodded.

I paused for dramatic affect, and then smiled, "Tomorrow."



And there it is. Now, I hate to grovel...but I will. So, pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASEPLEASEPLEASE! REVIEW!!!!! (it motivates me *grin*)