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Chapter 4

The Weasley children, save the three eldest, and Hermione were sitting around the Burrow's kitchen table having a late night cup of tea and playing a card game. Hermione was teaching them all a game called 'Slap Jack', a new one for the Weasleys who were not accustomed to non-magical games. Being an easy game though they had caught on quickly.

The kitchen was filled with uproarious laughter as Ginny slapped a king of hearts in response to Ron's dramatic feint. Scooping up the cards in the center of the table she added them ungrudgingly to her pile.

"All right down there?" Mr. Weasley called from the top of the stairs.

An cheerful affirmative echoed up the stairs to him.

"Yep," George called audibly, winking at his younger brother. "Ever since Ron got his baby back."

Fred and Ginny snickered, noting the double meaning that the two other occupants of the table were, presumably, completely oblivious to. Ron just rolled his eyes at his siblings, smiling slightly himself.

Mr. Weasley looked puzzled, glancing from his son to Hermione before shaking it off. "Right, well, Molly and I are off to bed, don't stay up to late."

"Night Dad," was the response that echoed this time accompanied by a quieter, "Goodnight Mr. Weasley."

"Right then," Fred said, picking up the card on top of his pile and placeing it down in the middle of the table, "four," he proclaimed.

Every other hand at the table slapped down on top of it in a rush, squishing each other's fingers in their haste.

"Damn!" Fred exclaimed, having missed it completely and been left staring down at the pile of hands before him with both his free hands holding his stack of cards. "Alright, alright," he replied, as he picked up the cards, if somewhat ruefully.

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Ron settled down into his bed, snuggling into his pillow comfortably. He wasn't quite sure what had him feeling so happy, but he wasn't one to question it. Indeed he wasn't even considering it, at the time he was content, a sleepy smile lighting up his face and with dreams coming to life before he'd even drifted off.

He woke up abruptly to his door sliding open slightly and a slit of floor being illuminated from the light in the hallway. Moments later the sound of tiny, scurrying feet hurrying across the wood was followed by the heavier scrape of agile claws. He listened silently without moving a muscle as he followed the shadows chasing one another around his room. Behind the drapes, under the bed, a narrow miss in the far corner, and around the corner of his desk.

Suddenly the scurrying feet stopped and Ron was acutely aware of a small creature near his ear as it clambered up his bedside table and into its drawer through the hole in the corner.

Mad cackling ensued as a fuzzy paw swatted at the drawer to no avail.

"Crookshanks?" Ron whispered. "Oof."

A large, orange, rumbling mass landed smartly upon his stomach, quite pleased with itself. Stalking, with an air of grace that only cats have, up to Ron's chest Crookshanks curled up comfortably. Orange tail whipping back and forth behind him with the air of the hunter he purred loudly, always keeping one eye on the drawer which was still cackling.

Ron cursed his company light-heartedly as the tabby began to kneed his chest. Wincing slightly Ron just grinned, reaching out and scratching him behind his ear. Turning his head accommodatingly Croockshanks still kept an eye on his prey.

A light rapping on the door perked the cat's interest, his ears twitching curiously.

"Ron?" Hermione whispered. "Have you seen – " she peered in the door and chuckled at the sight that met her. "Crookshanks you naughty cat," she scolded, giggling and closing the door behind her before advancing on him. "I'm really sorry Ron."

"It's alright," he replied cheerfully, although he felt a little bit trapped in a bizarre situation, but he brushed that feeling aside. "He's got some-bloody-thing cornered in my table, though." He gestured, amused.

"Oh, Crookshancks! Did you bring Ron a present?" She cooed, ruffling his ears. Crookshanks purred louder.

Ron's eyebrows shot up; it wasn't very often he heard Hermione coo. "A present?!"

"Of course!" Hermione was now sitting on the side of his bed, stroking her cat absently. "You see? He's quite fond of you."

"Yeah, right," Ron tried to hide his amusement, "I'm just a convenience and you know it. Any port in a storm, you know."

Croockshanks looked at him expectantly, turning his head in case Ron needed a clue. This time he laughed outright, scratching obligingly.

"A bit demanding, aren't you?"

Croockshanks just rubbed his fury check against Ron's fingers.

Hermione giggled, "And to think where this relationship began!" She winked, and, much to his own surprise, Ron's stomach did a funny summersault. "You two started off hating each others guts."

"Yeah," Ron smiled up at her glowing face, "Just imagine."

At that moment a rather large shiver shook her entire body, beginning at the bottom of her spine and running up through the top of her head. Furthermore the shake almost shook her right off her precarious perch on the small space left at the corner of Ron's bed.

"Sorry," Ron apologized quickly, quelling an urge to reach out to her. "He's got me sort of pinned."

"That's all right."

"There's room on the other side of me if you can make it over," Ron offered

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," he replied indignantly. "The beds not exactly huge but neither am I!"

Hermione laughed, "I meant are you sure you don't mind – oh, never mind." Getting up she crawled over Ron carefully, trying very hard not to disturb him or Croockshanks.

"Better?"

She smiled down at him; a tender sort of smile that she only would have dared use knowing how well the dark of Ron's room would hide it. "Much." Nonetheless another shiver shook her.

For seemingly the first time Ron noticed that she was in her nightdress, and a light summer one at that. "Oh, you're cold!" he said hastily, pushing away another thought. "Here," without stopping to think about it, as he rarely seemed to do, he offered her some of his covers. Suddenly realizing the implications Ron's face flushed a brilliant red, fortunately this too was concealed by the darkness. "I mean – I didn't mean – I mean, it's just... you're cold."

Hermione couldn't help but smile, although her face was flushed rather dramatically as well and she didn't know what to do. Slowly she took the covers from him, creating a space for herself and pulling them up around her as she thanked Ron quietly.

There was a silence for a moment and they both felt sort of stuck, unsure where to go from here. In the quite that followed a new noise took hold.

"Is that thing still laughing?"

Hermione giggled, reaching out again to her cat on Ron's chest. "Awww, he brought you a gnome."

"Yeah, and a mad one at that."

Stretching dramatically Croockshanks seemed to sense that he was being talked about but wasn't quite the center of attention. Sauntering down off his roost on Ron's chest he curled up between his master and her best friend's chest, effectively demanding pats. He had brought them a gift; he deserved a little appreciation.

Both of them laughed, taking the hint and stroking him until he was purring again.

Looking up from her post at Croockshanks' right ear she smiled at Ron. "It is really nice to see you again."

He looked up, startled. "Yeah," he smiled slowly. "You too. I really missed – "

Suddenly there was a dull thud and then the sound of racing feet taking off towards the door. Croockshanks scrambled to his feet, sending an exasperated glare at the two humans that said plainly: you let it get away?! And then he was gone, hauling his tail after the racing gnome as it whipped around the corner.

"Oh hell!" Hermione muttered, sitting bolt upright. "I've got to go get him before he destroys the house!" She scrambled over Ron much less ceremoniously this time.

"Hey," Ron caught her by the hand. "Do you need help?"

"No, I should be fine, you should get some sleep." She groaned, "I thought he'd finally settled down!"

"Well, at least take one of my sweatshirts," he let go of her hand to sit up and chuck one he found under his bed to her.

"Thanks," she smiled at him warmly, pulling the thing on over her head. It was much too large but that was okay.

Again they were interrupted by a dull thud, this time by something that sounded distinctly like a gnome smashing into glass.

Hermione groaned hurrying over to the doorway. "Sweet dreams," she whispered from the doorway.

"You too," he replied quietly before she turned, pulling the door closed behind her. He shook his head, and got back into bed, cuddling up to his pillow again with a much wider smile on his face.