Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, she owns all these wonderful characters, I am just 'playing' with them

A/N: Please Read and Review, Criticisms are welcome, first fic ever.

CHP 4: Quarrelling

Hermione hummed lightly to herself along with the radio she had recently purchased. She had received several job offers, including a spectacular offer from St. Mungo's but she was still unsure of what to do. Her first goal had been to make the house livable again. That meant fresh paint in all the rooms and a bit of re-decorating. Hermione felt that making this house her own, might help her make-up her mind, or at least get it ready to sell if she decided to go back to America.

When the song ended, Hermione sat down on a rickety chair nearby and contemplated the lunch she had at the Burrow a few days ago. Harry and Ginny had been deliriously happy, that much was obvious, but her thoughts kept returning to another person.

Absent mindedly she picked up the paint brush she had sat down only moments before. Standing on tip toe, on a rather un-sturdy chair, she began painting the crown molding. "Hermione!" yelled Ron from the foyer. Startled, Hermione dropped her paint brush and nearly fell from her chair. "I'm in here Ron" she yelled in a sour voice.

"Whoa! What are you doing?!" was the first thing Ron said when he stepped into the room. "Well, I was painting, until you came in screaming like a banshee" she said in a hostile tone.

Raising his hands in defeat, Ron muttered something under his breath, much to the displeasure of Hermione.

"What was that?" said Hermione glowering from her perch on her chair. For once she was taller than Ron.

"Nothing" Ron looked up giving Hermione a lop-sided grin. After all these years her temper hadn't changed a bit.

"Will you hand me that paint brush please?" Seeing that Ron had given up, Hermione grinned and stuck out her hand. She almost missed the argument that would have no doubt ensued.

Ron bent down and picked up the brush and placed in gently into Hermione's hand, pausing slightly as his hand brushed hers.

"Thanks," she muttered as her cheeks turned a very pretty shade of pink. Turning around she dipped the brush in the paint and reached up to finish painting the last bit of trim, unaware that Ron was starring at her.

Letting out a heavy breath, Ron sunk down into a nearby chair and watched Hermione work, admiring her jean clad figure and bare feet. "Hermione, why didn't you just use magic?"

"Humph?" Turning around, Hermione promptly fell off of the rickety chair she had been standing on. Ron, wasting no time, stood and reached out to catch her, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. "Careful....I was asking you why you were not using magic?" said Ron, his arms still holding Hermione firmly. Hermione blushed before answering; Ron had only held her like this once before.

"Umm..." she stammered "Because this is how muggles paint so this is the first thing that popped into my head, I didn't even think about using magic."

Looking into Hermiones questioning eyes, Ron dropped his arms and took a few steps back. "Ah....well then."

Shifting awkwardly back and forth on his feet he starred at Hermione who looked equally as flustered. "Was there a reason for your visit? I mean most people knock, they don't just apparate into someone else's house."

"Oh, Sorry 'Mione, I'll knock next time..." Ron trailed off when he realized she had only been joking "Actually I am here as the messenger, Ginny wants to know if you are available tomorrow afternoon to go dress shopping, she would have stopped by herself, but she and mum were to busy with the other details."

"Tell Ginny yes, I can put off the painting for one more day." said Hermione as she wiped her hand across her forehead.

"Right" Ron grinned, glancing at the streak of yellow paint Hermione had just gotten on her forehead. Should he tell her?

"Hermione, I must say, this particular shade of yellow is lovely" said Ron in a nonchalant tone.

Did Ron really say lovely? Hermione was asking herself. Did he actually hate the paint color and was only trying to be nice or...a billion thoughts were spinning through her head. Why did SHE care if HE liked the paint color?

"Umm thanks Ron," was the mumbled response he got.

"Oh, yeah it looks really good," he continued, teasing her. It was obvious she still had no clue there was paint on her forehead.

"Really Ron, If you don't like it just say so" said Hermione as she tensed up for a battle.

"No, that's not it..." he started

"Well what in bloody hell is it then?" she yelled, cutting Ron off.

"Did you just swear? Really, you said bloody hell. Hermione what's gotten into you?" said Ron completely shocked at her response. He had never seen her so riled up before. Well not over something this trivial, it was only a paint color.

"Just drop it Ron, yes, I swore, you would bloody well know that if you had tried to talk to me in the last 5 years."

"Ouch, Hermione....You do know that goes both ways!" said Ron trying very hard to keep his temper under control. Her eyes flashed challenging him to continue "Sure send letters to Ginny, I sent you a few Owls, you never responded, a Christmas card hardly counts for much from me, but for you it is completely acceptable! That's a bit of a double standard don't you think?!" With each statement, Ron's voice rose a few degrees, getting louder and louder.

"Well why didn't you come visit?" she countered back.

Ron yelled back, "Why didn't you come home once in awhile, you know as well as I do that mum would have loved to have you at the Burrow, your like a member of the family, you know that!"

Tears glistening in her eyes, Hermione slumped down in the chair that Ron had recently vacated. Speaking very softly in a controlled voice she said "Did it ever occur to you, that I wouldn't feel like one of the family? Did it ever occur to you that I lost my family and as much as I love yours it wasn't the same? Did it ever occur in that thick skull of yours that I couldn't come back to England because I didn't have anyone?!"

Hermione pulled her legs up underneath her and rested her arms on her knees, willing herself not to cry until Ron had left.

"'Mione...."

"Ron, please just go..." she stood and walked up the stairs, not waiting for a response.