Disclaimer: nobody in the story belongs to me, they're all J.K. Rowlings.

Chapter 2

Hermione, having a good two weeks of summer left, hadn't even begun to pack so it was going to take a little longer than a second to get ready. However her room was immaculate so, even without magic, Ron wasn't too concerned about the packing taking them long enough to miss dinner.

"Huh," he said thoughtfully as he flopped down on her bed, looking around the room.

"What?"

"Nothing," he replied honestly. "It's just that I've never been in your room before."

Hermione looked over her shoulder from where she was digging her trunk out of her closet. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ron nodded, still looking around. "It's nice," he observed. "Very tidy." Well, of course, what had he expected?

It wasn't as though everything had been shined to perfection, though; it had a distinct Hermione feeling about it, he liked it. Her shelves were littered with worn, lovingly read and re-read books of all shapes and sizes with no particular order to where they had been placed. However, Ron suspected that somehow Hermione would know exactly where each was. Her desk had various schoolbooks and writing implements organized across it accompanied by anything else she might need when she couldn't use magic. Trinkets lined the back of the desk as well as her bedside table where there was yet another book beside the one that Hermione had been reading when he arrived. There was a picture of he, Harry and Hermione in amongst the trinkets, next to her bedside lamp. Next his vision wandered along to her bed where he had flopped. The sheets were a simple pattern of blues and greens that matched the tint of her walls. Beneath the blanket and near where he was sitting there was a slight bulge. Ron glanced at Hermione quickly and then couldn't help himself as he peered under the blankets, scooping out its occupant. The teddy bear that emerged was as worn and looked as well loved as the books on her shelves. He stroked its head lightly, smiling down at it tenderly.

"Ron?"

He jumped, uh-oh! He looked up in time to see the blush creeping across Hermione's face.

"Oh, you found Merlin," she said, trying to hide her embarrassment as she sat down next to him.

Ron couldn't help but grin at the name; apparently Hermione had been into magic long before she had known she was a witch.

"I've had him since I was born," she explained. "Somebody gave him to me."

"I like his name, he's sweet," Ron looked apologetic, feeling sorry now that he'd invaded her privacy.

"Thanks," she smiled, her embarrassment evaporating, as long as Ron wasn't going to start teasing her about Merlin she was fine. "I love him, he's just so cute."

"Yeah," Ron smiled back at her with a similar expression to what he'd used on Merlin while Hermione was looking down at the bear in his hands, oblivious. "Hey," Ron snapped himself out of it, "do you need any help?"

"Oh!" Hermione replied eagerly, jumping to her feet, "That'd be great, if you wouldn't mind!"

They worked amiably together, chatting happily about their summers and this and that. Of course the subject gradually turned to Harry and how excited they both were to see him again, and then slowly, reluctantly, to how they hoped he was doing okay, and how he would be handling the newest perilous hurtles that had crossed his path.

"Will we be over at Grimmauld Place at all?" Hermione asked, changing the subject slightly.

Ron shrugged, "People are constantly popping back and forth, it's hard to say. Maybe." There was a moment's pause as Ron surveyed the state of things. "Hermione you can not possibly bring all these books!"

"You say that every year."

"And every year you bring more!" he replied.

"Yeah," she mused, "you'd think you would learn."

He just shook his head at her. "Well if we're done here I'll get going with these."

"Wait, Ron, not that – "

He pulled open the top drawer in her dresser, gaped for a second then promptly shut it.

"– drawer." She shook her head, finding herself blushing yet again.

He gulped, the tips of his ears turning crimson, but he didn't turn to face her, merely crouched down and opened the next drawer, although more tentatively this time. "Or maybe this drawer instead." Apparently this one was safe as he instantly began unloaded some sweaters, "Do you want to take these?"

Hermione just wanted to let the incident go and follow Ron's quick change of subject but, at the same time, found herself holding back a laugh. Chocking on the suppressed giggle she took a few sweaters from Ron and a few others from the drawer, "Thanks, Ron, but that's okay, I think I had better manage my clothes."

He looked up at her guiltily, still flushed, "I didn't really see anything."

One look at his face and she couldn't help but burst out laugh. Opening the drawer herself she took out her undergarments and stuffed them swiftly into her trunk. "Don't worry about it," she knew she was blushing but she was still chuckling. Really it wasn't such a big deal; it wasn't like she'd been wearing it. "It's okay, you were just trying to help."

"Exactly!" Ron exclaimed, gesturing emphatically, relieved. A moment later: "Stop laughing at me Hermione!"

She was still giggling periodically as she moved around him pulling out jeans and what not. "I can't help it!"

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It wasn't long before they finished packing her bags and were soon working as a team to lug the heavy trunks down the stairs. The trunks with the extra weight of the excess books were like reluctant beasts that had dug in their heels. Eventually, though, with much struggling and cursing, (mostly from Ron), they managed it.

"I miss magic," Ron moaned as he straightened up from his end of the trunk. They were leaving it beside the fireplace while they went for dinner. He was distracted immediately by a delicious smell wafting out towards them from the general vicinity of the kitchen.

They ate dinner, the smell that had caught Ron's attention unable to do it justice, with Hermione's parents around the kitchen table. Ron very complementary and remarkably polite while they all indulged in talk of the summer and the beginning of school.

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"No thanks, Mum, Mr. and Mrs. Granger gave us something to eat before we came." They had just arrived at the burrow and Hermione was still busy enthusiastically greeting Ginny and Mr. Weasley.

"Well that was very nice of them," Mrs. Weasley said warmly. "Lucky for you, what we saved for you is getting cold now anyways. Hermione, dear," she changed subjects abruptly, noticing the struggle Ginny and Hermione were having to get the trunks upstairs upstairs, they'd only managed to reach the first stair, "let me give you a hand." With a wave of her wand the trunks sprouted stout but sturdy looking legs that flexed themselves before standing upright. "You'll just have to show them the way, if you don't mind."

"Thanks," Hermione said brightly.

Ginny grinned at Hermione, gesturing up the stairs, "After you."

Hermione and Ginny led the way up the staircase and down the hall, with the trunks bounding along happily behind them, to the youngest Weasley's room where a bed for Hermione had already been set up.

"That's a – " CRACK! "- new one, Mum," Fred said, as he apparated from the top of the stairs to the bottom to stand beside his mother.

"Must you do that? The stairs – " CRACK! Mrs. Weasley jumped as she was cut short when George appeared on her other side. "Oh honestly!"