Disclaimer: It isn't mine. The only thing about Harry Potter that I even have a chance of owning is a cool shirt from Hot Topic. Oh yeah. I want that.

Warning: Language in this chapter. Overuse of the words bloody and hell. maybe more. I can't remember.

Author's notes: Well, it's done. Finally. Crap, this took longer than it should have. Well, you can thank one of my awful teachers for giving me two days of in school suspension for it being out now. I've had a lot of time. Yay. Also, tab isn't working. It makes me cry and weep uncontrollably every day of my life. But I'll get over it. I guess you'll just have to deal with non-indented paragraphs, just this once. Yeah. Also, my page dashy page breaks seem to not be working. It also makes me cry. But, luckily, the only time a page break is needed it goes into italics, so you should be okay. Tell me if it's too hard to understand, I'll try and fix it. Now, read, enjoy and review.

Oh, also, sorry for shattering all your hopes and dreams with this chapter. What can I say. It had to be done! Ron gets all angsty, though, and I'm crap at writing angst, so I apologize now. Okay, author's notes are getting a bit too long. I'm done!

Sincerely,

Me.

Chapter five: Nothing hurts like nothing.

In their fourth year, Hermione kissed Ron on the cheek on their way to the lake in the second task. That very moment, she discovered that kisses tended to render him helpless. She used this to her advantage in fifth year; distracting him long enough to get passed awful Slytherin. It only stood to reason, then that a full on kiss could send him into a deaf, dumb and blind stupor. When their lips parted an eternity after they had met, Ron could barely think, let alone hear anything she was saying to him. He noticed that she was standing and so stood too, then followed dumbly as she headed up the hill back to the castle. When they reached the top, he regained enough sense to speak.

"What just happened?" he asked with a goofy grin still plastered to his face. Hermione sent him a funny look.

"We kissed, dummy," she said, grinning to match him. They smiled at each other for another moment, a mutual blush rising in their cheeks.

"That was...." Ron started, searching for the right words. "Indescribable." She let out a cherubic laugh that didn't make his stomach churn so much as sent a warm sensation through his chest.

"Yes, that it was," she agreed. She looked at him, almost impressed. "I'm surprised, actually. You're quite good at that. I simply can't believe it was your first kiss!" They laughed together at a private joke. "Perhaps we should do it again sometime," she said coyly. He raised an eyebrow coolly, but inside he was a mess. Was she asking if he wanted to peruse a relationship? Was this just an offer for more kissing? Moreover, why did he care? She was just Hermione, for goodness sake! She had noticed his silence and her coy look dropped.

"Did I step over the line there?" she asked in a concerned tone. "I was only kidding, you know. I mean, that was nice, but well, you know...." There was something in her tone that he didn't like. He stopped and looked at her.

"Know what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Why did this matter so much?!

"Well, it was just a kiss," she explained. "Just a kiss between friends. It happens all the time, you know. And, while it was great, we both know that it was utterly meaningless."

His heart dropped out of his chest, through the bottom of his stomach and crashed into a million pieces on the ground. He suddenly felt dizzy and scared, but he just smiled fakely and agreed with some noise that might have been words. Time seemed to flash by and he watched as some gangly red headed boy walked to a castle with a beautiful woman then she walked away and he was left alone. He stood in the front hall for at least ten minutes before he realized where he was. What had she last said to him? "Oh, Ron, your leg is bleeding! You should go have Madam Pomfrey look at it. I've got to go, but I'll see you later." And she was gone.

He thought for a moment that going to fix his leg sounded like a good idea and so started on his way. But his thoughts whirred him away until he had no control over where he was going. All he could think of was her. And his real first kiss.

It wasn't some big long romantic ordeal. Hell, it was barely more then a peck, but it had meant the world to him. And he thought it had to her too. Maybe he knew less than he thought. It had been a long time before then, back when they were almost strangers. Back before the harsh reality of war and death held any sway over their young minds. A time he would always remember as the first year.

She lingered a moment in the purple flames, almost afraid of what she would see when she emerged. Half a moment later, the cold through her body was gone, the tickling flames had left and she was in a dark chess room. Immediately she saw him; lying helter skelter in a graveyard of ebony and ivory, his face eerily illuminated. He looked like death warmed over, or life cooled down, and she didn't want to think about what he actually was. Slowly, carefully, she approached. His face looked cold; his bright freckles standing out against a gray pallet. She reached out a shaking hand to touch him, fearing the moment his skin would brush hers and she could tell. At long last, there was contact. He was warm. She let out the breath she had been holding and smiled. But a voice in her head ruined it all for her. If it hasn't been long, he might still be warm. Her eyebrows pinched together in a hurt frown and she moved to take a pulse. Her fingers lingered over his neck, but she found that they would go no further. She was too afraid. With her lips shaking ceaselessly, she let out a croak that might have been his name. She shook his shoulders, hoping to wake him.

"Ron?" she whispered, shaking a little harder. "Ron, please wake up." There was no response. She began to really fear the worst and her stomach knotted together. "Ron, please, you can't leave me!" she whispered harshly. A tear rolled unnoticed down her cheek as she leaned forward. "Ron!" she said into his ear. "You can't, you just can't. You can't leave me when I've only just found you!" Her face was right above his now and she could see the gray growing darker with death. Before she knew what was happening, her lips were on his, hopping to kiss the life back into him. And something amazing happened then.

He kissed her back.

She pulled away sharply, finding herself looking into his eyes. Sitting up quickly, she tried to wipe away her tears. He looked at her with the same shock she felt for a moment, then smiled.

"You kissed me," he observed. She looked away.

"No I didn't," she mumbled. He got up and walked over to where she now sat, kneeling in front of her. He touched his cheek where her tears had left a puddle, then showed the dampness to her.

"Then what's this?" he asked. Her lip began to shake again and suddenly she threw her arms around him.

"Oh, God! I thought you were dead!" she cried into his chest. He patted her back awkwardly, suddenly remembering that he was gawky and twelve. And even more suddenly he remembered where they were.

"Where's Harry?" he asked. She looked up for a moment hurt and confused, then a realization passed through her eyes and she leapt up.

"Hurry! We have to go! No time to explain!"

As she ran out of the room, they both knew that they would never talk about this again.

Ron came back to his senses far away from where he had expected to be. In front of him was a painting of fruit. What did that mean? Oh, yes. The kitchens. Why had he come to the kitchens? He couldn't think of a good reason to be here, and so turned away.

Then again, a nice butterbeer sounded really good at the moment.

And being fawned over by those house elves was always a way to make someone feel important.

They were probably good listeners, when it came right down to it.

With his mind changed, he tickled the pear and entered the large kitchen. Immediately, a few house elves ran up to him, asking what he wanted. He told them about his newly discovered desire for butterbeer and they scampered. Now almost alone, Ron walked over to the tables corresponding to the Great Hall tables. There was Gryffindor, where he sat everyday with his friends. So much had been revealed at this table. And yet, so much had been misunderstood. Ron sighed and got off thinking again.

First year hadn't been the only time they kissed before that day. It had happened again in second year. Well, it had for him. He wasn't sure if she remembered it. She wasn't really in any state to. He hoped she did, though. He fancied it his response to her first year kiss.

A bright light filtered through the window as Ron opened his eyes. Where was he? This wasn't his bed in Gryffindor tower. This wasn't his bed at home. This was... Oh. This was a bed in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. They had made it out of the Chamber of Secrets. He looked around the room, finding all the people he expected. There was Ginny in a bed by the window, looking a lot better than the last time he had seen her. There was Harry, sleeping restlessly. Poor guy had been through a lot in the past two years. He should at least be able to sleep well. Once again, Ron didn't envy the life his friend led. Looking further, he saw Professor Lockhart staring up at the ceiling with a dumb smile over his face. The damage would most likely be permanent. Ron almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

A white curtain caught his eye. Beyond it would be the petrified people, right? And Hermione. Ron got to his feet and walked slowly to the veil. A noise in the corner of the room caught him by surprise and he spun around.

There was Madam Pomfrey, sending him a warm smile. "I've given them the antidote today. Just a while ago." Ron's face lit up.

"Are they awake now?" he asked, trying to hide his excitement. She shook her head and his smile dropped.

"It'll take a week or so for them to be fully awoken. But as for now, they'll be slipping in and out of consciousness for a while," she explained. Ron looked back at the curtain, wondering whether she was conscious right now. "Of course, they wouldn't be able to talk or move for now, but they'll know what's going on around them," she continued. Ron nodded, not really listening right then. He was brought back to reality when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I'm feeling generous today and you've been through a lot so go on in. Go see her." Ron smiled and walked through the curtain.

She was exactly as he had left her, but of course that was to be expected. He remembered when her first heard what had happened to her. He couldn't breath, his stomach felt heavy and his vision had swam in front of his eyes. that was the closest he had ever come to passing out. He smiled and walked over to the bed.

He wished she looked peaceful or like she was sleeping, but she didn't. It would have been easier to think that she was dreaming good things then, but the way she looked that was impossible. She was just nowhere. Her eyes were still open in a look of shock and her hand was clenched, thinking that it still contained an important note. Her skin was slate pale and cold; she almost looked like a wax statue. He lifted a hand to her face without thinking, brushing some hair behind her ear. With all of this, somehow, she still managed to look beautiful.

Ron drew his hand back quickly. He had never thought of his friend as beautiful before. Where had that come from? Not his head, certainly. She was just Hermione.

Of course, he couldn't deny how he had felt when her lips had brushed his the year before. Warm and safe and suddenly forgetful of everything that was wrong. His hand touched her cheek again.

It would be a payback. He owed her, after all. She had given him a kiss and he had not yet returned it. Now that was just poor manors.

Plus, she probably wouldn't remember it. She was unconscious. So, what did he have to loose?

He moved slowly, taking all the time he needed to move his face to hers. He looked into her shocked, somewhat empty eyes for a moment, pausing before he crossed the last few centimeters.

Her lips were cold against his, but not as cold as he had imagined them. And they seemed to be growing warmer with every passing second. After a moment, he pulled away.

It was then that he knew she was very much conscious. She hadn't moved, not really. Her face was still frozen in shock. But now, ever so slightly, the corners of her slightly parted lips were turned in a slight smile.

He returned her smile, happy for the approval. Having nothing more to say, Ron backed away for a moment, then turned and left through the curtain.

When Ron returned to his senses this time, he was faced with a set of large eyes. He started, sitting upright with a jolt.

"Sir asked for a butterbeer. Malky didn't want to bother sir. Sir's butterbeer," the house elf said, handing Ron a mug. He nodded back.

"Yes. Thank you," he responded. The house elf lingered for a moment, looking at Ron tentatively. Ron noticed this and looked back. "Yeah, what is it?"

" Sir looked like he was thinking. Thinking about something painful. If sir doesn't mind Malky's asking, what was sir thinking?" he asked. Ron smiled.

"Ah. Yeah, that," Ron sipped his butterbeer with a sigh. "Well, I don't mind. I'd actually like to talk.

"I was thinking about a girl. My best friend. And… maybe more. I don't really know. I had never really thought about it until she said we weren't. I don't know if I want to be more, I've never even thought of her that way, but suddenly it's out of the question and I find myself really bothered. I don't understand this at all.

"And we've even kissed. A lot. I was thinking about that, the kissing. I was just getting to our third kiss. In third year." He paused, sipping his butterbeer and letting the warmth flow through him. "It was the first time we were both conscious."

Ron looked at his injured leg with distain. It really hurt. A lot. He really wished Sirius hadn't been so violent. Really. It was unnecessary, and he now had the feeling he would be developing an irrational fear of dogs. Especially big dogs. Ron shuddered and the girl sitting on his bed turned to look at him. She gave an odd look, he tried to look innocent, she rolled her eyes and turned away. So it had been for a while. Neither had said a word since Madam Pomfrey left. He had had enough of it.

"So… tonight.." he started. She looked back at him.

"What about it?" she asked tiredly.

"It's been interesting, hasn't it?" he said, realizing how stupid he sounded. She laughed slightly.

"Yeah, interesting. That's one way of putting it," she agreed. He looked off, trying to think of something to say. Finally, he thought of the perfect thing.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. She looked up at him.

"What for?" she asked, bewildered.

"You know," he said, "the whole Crookshanks ate Scabbers thing. I was wrong. I owe you a big apology." She stared at him, shocked, for a moment. Then her face broke into a bright smile.

"Wow. Thank you, Ron," she said, laughing slightly. "And I'm sorry, too, for being a prat to you. And honestly, I wish you had been right. This whole Pettigrew business." That said, they sat in silence for a moment.

"That's all really strange, isn't it?" Ron said quietly. Hermione nodded. "All this time, the horrible Sirius Black was innocent and my rat was a Death Eater."

"What… what do you think'll happen to him?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking a little. Ron looked up at her.

"Who?" he asked back. She turned her sad eyes to him.

"Sirius," she stated. They were silent for a moment, both knowing what would happen to Sirius Black. Ron spoke after a moment.

"They'll kiss him," he said, the simple sentence speaking volumes. She nodded at him, looking down at the bed.

"Poor Sirius," she whispered. Ron nodded back, not knowing what else to say. A moment later she sniffled. "Poor Harry!" Ron looked up at her.

Her eyes were full of tears, though she wouldn't let herself cry. She just looked so helpless to him. It tore at his heart to see his friend like that, so he did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his body. She tensed at the contact at first, showing what Ron was feeling, but after a moment she relaxed into him. He rocked her back and forth slowly, letting his comfort wash over her, softly reassuring that everything would be fine. He heard her whimper, felt her quake against his body. She could no longer deny her tears as he felt them wet his dirty shirt. This was just too much for him to take. He reached down and cupped her chin, bringing her eyes into his.

"Everything is going to be fine, Hermione," he whispered to her. She shook her head in disbelief.

"How? How do you know that?" she asked and he smiled.

"I don't," he admitted. "But I have a good feeling." He smiled genuinely at her and she smiled back. Neither of them could have predicted or avoided what happened next.

Maybe it was the stress of that day and all that had happened. First Buckbeak, then Scabbars the Sirius and that whole mess. Maybe it was because she had just cried into his chest and he hadn't minded in the least. Maybe it was the proximity of their faces. Whatever the reason, they both seems the get the same notion at the same moment. They leaned into each other, lips crashing in the middle. They barely touched for five seconds before the two parted again. They just looked at each other with new eyes, not a word was spoken. In the screaming silence, Ron pushed his hand into the mess of hair and pulled her face to his again, this time kissing with a bit more confidence. She returned the affection, letting her body melt against him, her hands holding on to his back for dear life or sanity. The sweet attention was short lived though, as a stirring in the next bed jolted their lips apart. Hermione looked over at the noise and smiled. "Harry's waking up," she observed, rushing to his bedside. Ron tried his hardest not to feel rejected or pushed aside, and he was in no state of mind to follow her. Then, she looked over her shoulder. She looked at him with honest eyes and sent him a small smile. A small, perfect, wonderful smile. With the smile's magic added to the kiss, Ron's world faded from him.

When he came to his senses again, the moment had passed and he knew that this, too, would fade into memory without so much as a second word.

Ron realized at the end of his story that his audience had grown. At least ten house elves were sitting in front of him, watching with their big eyes even wider than normal.

"So, that's about it for third year," Ron mumbled, not sure how he felt about "performing" in front of such a crowd.

"Sir, that was so beautiful!" a girl elf said, her brown eyes rimmed with tears.

"Yes, well," he began, but was cut off by another elf.

"What happened next?" he asked. Ron gave him a look.

"Nothing, for a while," he admitted. "Not 'til fourth year."

"What happened in fourth year?" an elf squeaked.

"The tri-Wizarding Tournament," Ron explained. The elves 'ohh'ed at him. "Hermione and I were both victims in the second task. Me for Harry and her for Krum." Ron tried not to make a face as he said the name. If the elves noticed, though, they obviously didn't care. "It seemed that those two were… more than just friends. Which upset me. A lot. We had a few rows about it, but… nothing really came of it. Nothing changed between us then, for the better or worse. Anyway, in the second task we would be put into an enchanted sleep and given to the mer-people who would keep us at the bottom of the lake. It would be the champions job to rescue us.

"On the way down, I was nervous. Very nervous. Unnecessarily nervous. Well, maybe it wasn't unnecessary, as I had been studying with him for it and I knew how much he had planned. Or rather, didn't have planned. Hermione must have picked up on my mood because she tried to comfort me. Explained about the effectiveness of the enchanted sleep and how we would be rescued if the champion couldn't save us. 'Not that Harry will have any problems' she assured me. I thought that was funny. She looked all nervous." Ron smiled at the memory, then recalled what he was doing and cleared his throat. "And, as if all this wasn't enough to ease my nerves, she kissed me. Just on the cheek. I think Krum and our row may have made things a little strange between us, at least when it came to impromptu comfort kisses. Kind of upsetting, if you think about it, but even that little kiss was enough to steal my senses. And she picked up on that for the first time. She gave me a few odd looks when I couldn't talk to her, then just grabbed my hand and steered me to the lake. And I…" Ron smiled halfway. "Silly me likes to think that she was holding my hand then.

"And that was fourth year," he completed. Expecting some comments from the peanut gallery, he paused in the story. All they did was stare at him with waiting eyes. Ron sighed, knowing that he'd have to go on. "She kissed me again in fifth year. Just on the cheek again. Only, I'm not sure it counts, since it was just a trick. It was my first Quidditch match ever and I was worried sick. Literally, I felt like I was going to vomit. And one top of that, Slytherin was being awful. I had to walk by them in the Great Hall after breakfast and if I had seen what they were doing I would probably not have been able to fly. And she knew that. Of course she new that. She knows everything, always. And she also knew the prefect way to distract me. She knew that if she kissed me, I would be too dazed to even think about Slytherin, or anything for that matter, until I was in the safety of the Front hall. It was pretty genius of her, if you think about it. Anyone else who saw it would just think she was wishing me luck.

"Unfortunately, I was one of those people. I thought the stupid little cheek kiss was something more. I thought that since all the other times we had kissed it had been because of danger, that this little kiss with no impending doom meant that maybe there was something I was missing. Stupid of me, right? I guess I was able to push those thoughts away for a while, though. Until the summer. You see, this kiss was unlike the others in another way, too. We talked about it later. I actually asked her what it had been about. That's how I know what she was trying to do. But, you know, for a few months, I really thought…. I don't know what I thought."

Some of his audience members had tears in their eyes now. The girl elf who had spoken before now squeaked "That's just awful!" and blew her nose on her tea cozy. Another elf quickly shouted out "What happened next? In your sixth year? Anything?" Ron's face darkened then.

"Yes, a lot happened then. Horrible things," he said, his voice quiet as he recalled the terrors of the last year. "See, it had been revealed at the end of fifth year that You-Know-Who was back, so I suppose his Death Eaters no longer had any qualms about spreading terror. People were tortured. People were killed. Good people. Innocent witches and wizards. Muggles, even, who had no idea what was happening to them. . Hogwarts seemed to be the only place in the world that was safe.

"But it was safe; we were safe and that seemed to be the only thin g that mattered. And as long as we were there, the war seemed far away somehow. I mean, we knew it was going on, but it didn't seem like it could ever touch us. Even when it did touch our lives. All of my family is fighting, so… with so many of us…. Let's just say I highly doubt Bill's will be the last Weasley funeral I attend…. Even Hermione had trouble on the outside! It was probably just a coincidence, but early in that year, the Death Eaters fell on her old neighborhood. Just for sport. Muggle killing sport. They murdered an entire family and tortured a girl who just happened to cross their path. Apparently, we found out later, the family that was killed contained Hermione's best friend from childhood. And the girl who was put under the Cruciatus Curse was her sister. Ironically, this was the first time I ever heard that Hermione even had a sister…

"With this horrible war out there, we only felt like we were truly safe in here. Of course it wouldn't last. Towards the end of the year, You-Know-Who figured out that we had something that he still desperately wanted. That bloody prophesy. But, he knew he would have to have Dumbledore cooperating with him to get it, as it was neatly stored in Dumbledore's mind. He needed to gain the upper hand, he needed to have something we wanted more than he wanted the prophesy. And why not kill two birds with one stone; get his precious information and revenge on those meddling kids who ruined everything the year before.

"He took us from Hogsmead. Luckily, Harry wasn't with us that day. We already had a motion that something would happen. It's a good thing, too. I shudder to think what would have happened if they had captured Harry that day. No, it was me, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna who faced the horrors of the Death Eaters dungeons. And that is the setting of the sixth year kiss."

The room was silent but for her tears. He couldn't remember how long she had been crying; since they were thrown into the dank room it seemed. Ages ago it would have been, then. Or maybe minutes. Who could really tell down here. Of course, when her tears began it had been an uncontrollable weeping. It had since subsided into whimpers.

He looked around the room at his friends now. They were all asleep, or at least pretending to be. Neville was leaning against a wall, snoring softly. Ron smiled at him, somehow his inherent vulnerability reminded Ron of home. Of Hogwarts. It was strangely calming. Ginny and Luna, who had become nearly best friends, were curled up together near a corner. They had long since ended their conversation, which Ron had found quite interesting. They discussed and planned the party that they would have when they were out. Of course, the plans themselves were so fanciful that they could never be pulled off, but it gave the girls hope.

She hiccupped slightly into his chest and he looked down at her. He had taken it upon himself to comfort her when she had broken down, but couldn't get a word past her sobs. So he had down the only other thing he could think; he hugged her. Which explained to some degree why she was now sitting in his lap, her face buried in his chest. He listened quietly for a few moments, trying to decide if she was calm enough yet. She hiccupped again, but the tears had all but stopped.

"Hey," he whispered to her, rubbing her back slowly. She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes he could barely see in the darkness. "You okay?" he asked. She shook her head pitifully.

"No, not really," she said, her voice still broken by tears.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked softly, still rubbing her back in what he hoped was a claming manner. She nodded into his chest, then sat quietly, searching for he right words.

"I just," she started after a moment. "I feel so… helpless." Ron nodded understandingly, but let her finish her thought. "I mean this whole year. Starting with last summer in the Order headquarters. We couldn't do anything. And we tried to fight it, thought we were doing our part but this year…. We have no part, other than to play the victim. Your family is fighting in the Order and we're just sitting around in our safe little school while people die. First Sirius, then.. Bill. And Madeline and her family, they weren't even part of this God forsaken war! And they attacked my bloody sister and I so wanted to tare them limb for limb. I wanted to kill them with my bare hands after that but we couldn't do anything! Now, we're sitting here, trapped in this little room with no wands just waiting for them to do… what ever it is they're going to do. I feel helpless and I hate it. Plus, I'm scared," she finished. Her voice was stronger now, seemingly boldened by her words. She was feeling better, he hoped.

"You're right," he said quietly after a moment. He was searching for the words, trying to find the right thing to say. Hermione flashed him a look that said agreeing with her was a far cry from the right thing. He smiled. "There isn't much, if there's anything at all that we can do with the war right now. We can't fight in the Order. We can't do much from Hogwarts. Not like we used to. The scale's gone way too big, this is out of our reach. But, Hermione, but we don't have to sit back here and take this. We don't have to play the victim now-"

"What are we going to do?" she interrupted. "We don't have any wands or anything at all." Ron smirked at her.

"Why, Miss Granger! Are you forgetting that before you were the best witch in your class," he said silkily, "that you were the best Muggle in your class? I'm sure you'll think of something." She glared at him.

"Gee, thanks," she said sarcastically. "No pressure there." But she smiled at him, obviously thankful for the compliment.

"I mean, it may be as simple as actually fighting back when they come for us," he went of. "Or as complicated as trying to figure out how to do wandless magic. Though I recommend the fighting. We just don't have to take it! And as for escaping, which I know you're thinking of; we all are, maybe we'll think of something. Maybe we won't have to." He paused, pushing some hair behind her ear and rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Her tears were nearly dry. "You know that they're coming for us. It's just a matter of time." A shadow passed over her face as he said this.

"And if they're too late?" she said darkly. "If they've already killed us-"

"They're not going to kill us," Ron said quickly. She stared at him coolly.

"Don't' be so naïve."

"No really, they can't," he explained. "We're their perfect little bargaining chips. If they kill even one of us, they know that Dumbledore would be even less likely to cooperate then he is now. And he's pretty unlikely right now. They don't want to mess up any chance they may have." She mulled this over for a moment and Ron grinned at her. "Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!" he played. She smirked at him.

"I am the smart one," she flirted back. They both grinned and chuckled, knowing what would come next.

Ron put his hand to the side of her face, rubbing her cheek again. She smiled and ran a hand through his fiery hair, grinning even more as she did. This time, there was no big emotional build up. It just felt natural; right. She leaned up as he leaned down to her, into a real kiss. With eyes closed, he kissed her tear salty lips with a passion he didn't know he had in him. Unfortunately, not a moment later the door swung open.

They looked at the silhouette with fearful eyes. The other were stirring now, all attention was given to the door. A severe looking woman walked in, looking around as she did. They could see a scowl on her scarred face and could only think one thing. This was surly the end. Ron balled his hands into fists and sent a meaningful look to Hermione. They weren't just going to take it. She nodded at him slightly and they turned back to the woman. Suddenly and certainly unexpectedly, a friendly smile broke out over her severe face. The captives looked at each other in confusion before she spoke.

"Wotcher, guys!" Nymphadora Tonks said brightly. "Ready to bust out?"

They were saved.

The house elves had become so enthralled in his story that a few of the cheered when he was finished. Ron chuckled, God, house elves could sure make a person feel good! The emotional girl who had spoken before had tears in her eyes again, realizing the sad ending to the story.

"But sir and mistress didn't speak of it again, did they?" she asked. The others calmed down and turned their attention back to Ron. He shook his head.

"No, we didn't," he confirmed. His audience looked disappointed.

"What about today?" asked Malky, the first elf he had spoken to. "What happened to sir today?"

"We kissed again," Ron stated simply, "We kissed with no ulterior reasons, just because we wanted to kiss. We kissed for a good ten minutes straight! And afterwards she called it meaningless." Ron paused, shaking his head vigorously. "And I don't' know why I care! It's not like I have feelings for her! She just Hermione! My friend! But somehow…" he stopped talking altogether. What was he going to say? But somehow when she kissed him the world seemed more real? Somehow when she told him what it had meant his heart was ripped out of his chest? What did she mean to him? He didn't have a chance to ask because right then the door to the kitchens opened, then slammed closed.

"Excuse us, sir!" a house elf squeaked and the group rushed off. Ron didn't care, just laid down on the bench and took another sip of butterbeer.

"I want a drink and quick! Butterbeer, if you don't have anything stronger," an angry voice said. "Then leave me the hell alone!" Ron looked to the entrance where he saw the one face the did not want to see right then.

"Malfoy," he growled. Malfoy heard the noise and looked over, the scowl on his face becoming more pronounced.

"Bloody hell!" he nearly shouted. "Can I not get any peace today!" Weasley!"

"I was here first," Ron said quickly. Malfoy took his butterbeer from a trembling house elf and strode to the tables.

"I'm well aware," he sneered. Scowling, he looked around, took a drink, sighed and sat down.

"And he sits!" Ron observed, taking a drink. "Not that I care, but what's got your panties all up in a bunch? I know you're usually crabby, but this is ridiculous!"

"Can it, Weasley!" Malfoy snapped. For once, Ron was happy to oblige, taking in the well appreciated chance for silence. A silence that was soon broken. By Malfoy. Which was weird.

"You're wondering about me, aren't you?" he asked. Ron looked around the room, obviously confused. Malfoy didn't give a chance to respond, just kept talking. "The whole lot of you. Just wondering. You probably just sit around wondering: what happened to evil bad Draco Malfoy to make him turn good?" Ron tried to correct him: they hadn't wondered anything about him since the train ride. "Well you know what? It doesn't matter anyway! It doesn't matter if I turn good or if my father or anybody leaves their side because they're still going to bloody win. We can't beat them, and even if we do they'll already have killed everybody who ever meant anything to any- hic!" he cut off abruptly and Ron looked over at him. His head was turned, but Ron could see his eyes shining with unwelcome tears. The ugly scowl still covered his features, but it was now joined by a look of hurt. Ron thought about what he had said, about everything and something dawned on him.

"Oh," he started. "That girl Luna saw you with this summer. The Ravenclaw. This has something to do with her, doesn't it?" Malfoy let out a sick hurt grin.

"Yes, that girl," he said in a mocking tone. "Her name was Virginia, though. Not "that girl". Not "the Ravenclaw". Her name was Virginia Kelley."

"Her name was?" Ron repeated. Malfoy looked at him for the first time since he had walked into the kitchens.

"Yes. Was," he spat. "She died a month ago." He looked away again. "Dear old dad wanted me to be the one to kill her. But I couldn't. she'd never done anything to me. None of the bloody people they ever kill or torture or hurt have ever done a bloody thing to any of them! Or at least not something worth dying over! Hell, I probably should have killed her myself, at least that way she wouldn't have to go through any more. But I was a bloody selfish coward who couldn't even save the only thing that's ever meant anything because he loved her too bloody much!" He stopped, sneered and drank. "It's a bloody stupid emotion, if you ask me."

Ron was shocked. Stunned. First off, Malfoy was talking to him in a slightly friendly tone. Secondly, Malfoy wasn't insulting him. And lastly, Malfoy had just confessed to loving some girl Ron could only vaguely remember Too weird.

"Wow," he said stupidly. "I never knew. Malfoy sneered at him.

"Of course you didn't bloody know, I didn't bloody tell you," he mumbled. "And you'd best not tell anyone else. They were silent for a few moments after that, some unspoken truce passing between them. "So, what brings you to the kitchens with a butterbeer?" Malfoy asked. Ron shot him a look.

"Can't I just come here cause I like it?" he asked.

"Nope," Malfoy said quickly. He seemed more cheerful now that he had gotten his feeling on Virginia off his chest. Ron sipped his butterbeer quietly for a moment.

"I kissed Hermione,: he said at last. Malfoy's face lit up.

"Bloody hell!" he yelled, obviously excited about this. "What did she do?" Ron glared at Malfoy, who was obviously hoping that she had slapped him or something.

"She kissed me back," Ron said shortly. Malfoy sent him a look.

"How can this story end with you nursing a butterbeer, looking to a crowd of house elves for comfort?" he asked. Ron tried not to notice that Malfoy knew about the house elves.

"Then she called it meaningless and walked away," he finished. "And I don't know why I care."

"I do!" Malfoy shouted. "You fancy her! It's why you're always fighting and why I always tease you about her. It's so obvious!" Ron didn't like that Draco bloody Malfoy was giving him advise about his feelings. Didn't like it at all.

"Sod off!" he retorted. "And don't breath a word of this to anyone or the whole school will learn all about Virginia Kelley.!"

"Likewise," Malfoy said, setting down his empty mug. "And, if you don't mind, I think I'll be off. Still need to find some peace. Don't think anyone's using the Prefect's bathroom, do you?"

"Let's hope not," Ron responded. Malfoy stood and nodded at him.

"Weasley," he said as some from of goodbye.

"Malfoy," Ron responded. "Good luck with your emotional problems!" he called as Malfoy walked away.

"Good luck with your girlfriend," he jeered back, walking out of the door.

Ron sat there for a moment, the shock of the encounter wearing off. So Malfoy was human. That was something new. And, of course, his thought trailed back to Hermione. He laid on the bench made like the one he had sat on for the last six years, remembering everything they had been through.

Time passed somehow. As he reflected on his time with her he was vaguely aware of the house elves scuttling around him. He wondered why she was being so distant now. Since the beginning of this year, she hadn't been the same to him. It was unnerving. He wondered why he cared. He pondered what Malfoy had suggested. Did he fancy her? Wouldn't he know something like that? When Harry fancied Cho, she was all he could ever think about. Of course, when had he ever stopped thinking about Hermione? Or, when Ginny fancied Harry, she always acted differently around him. Yeah. Ron could just be himself around Hermione. He didn't need to impress her or worry about what she thought. In fact, around her was one of the few places in the world that he felt truly comfortable. So, he didn't fancy her. Obviously. Ron decided this just as he decided he was tired. He stood and stretched, thanking the house elves for their hospitality and headed out.

It was dark outside. Very dark. Ron didn't even want to know what time it was. He was just thankful that he didn't have classes the next day. He reached the Fat Lady, mumbled the password and stepped inside, ready for bed. Only he had to pause when he entered the common room. Generally when it was this late, everyone would have gone to bed. Tonight, however, sitting on the windowsill was his baby sister.

"What are you still doing up?" he asked. She looked over at him, a dreamy look in her eyes and a healthy flush on her face.

"I just got back," she said.

"From where?"

'The bath," she answered with a smile.

"At," he looked at his watch," twelve thirty at night?" she shrugged at him, the dreamy smile still plastered to her face. "What is up with you?" he asked. She shrugged again.

"I had a really nice bath," she explained, smiling even more. She then looked over at him as if just realizing that he was there. "What about you? What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I was in the kitchens thinking," he said truthfully.

"Why?" she asked, looking interested.

"I kissed Hermione," he said, looking up to see her reaction. Her face lit up.

"Again?!" she squealed. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Why am I not surprised that you know that it was again?" he mumbled.

"Well? What happened? What did she say?" She sat up on her knees, neatly bursting with excitement. Ron sighed.

"Don't get so excited, Ginny. Nothing really….happened," Ron said, watching her face fall in confusion. "she doesn't have any feelings for me, so anything you thought you saw was just imaginary. As she said, it was just a kiss. Otherwise meaningless." He paused as the word stung in his chest, trying to hide the pain written on his face. Ginny didn't notice or didn't care, just stared at him.

"I didn't imagine any-"

"Obviously you did!" he snapped. She looked at him, slightly taken aback. Ron realized what a prick he had just been and sighed. "Look, Gin, I'm sorry. I don't know why this is getting to me so much." she just kept staring at him.

"I mean it," she said. "I didn't imagine anything. I didn't draw any conclusions myself." Ron's brow furrowed at her.

"What…what are you saying?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I can't tell you that," she admitted. "But I'm suddenly very worried about her. This… just doesn't sound like Hermione." Ron looked at her skeptically as she thought.

"What… why?" he stuttered, unable to think with this new cloud over his head. "I just don't know why this bothers me so much!" Ginny looked up at him.

"Have you ever considered that you may have feelings for her?" She crossed her arms knowingly at him and he looked at the floor.

"Of course I've thought of that," he murmured. "Only I just really thought of it today. After she said that there was no chance. Now I can't get it off of my mind. Yesterday she was just my friend and that was fine. Now…" he trailed off, noticing Ginny smiling at him. "What?"

"Just your friend?" she repeated. "Ron, you and Hermione have never "just been friends." There's always been something more there, just beneath the surface. You may not have noticed, in fact you probably didn't, but it's been there." She stood up at that. "Thank about it, Ron. Really think about it," she advised, then headed to her dorm.

Ron sat in in the silence that followed her. What was there to think about? Even if he did have feelings for her, she didn't return them. What was the use? Why stress over something that would never be? She didn't feel anything for him besides the comfort of a close friendship.

He sat down on the windowsill and looked out over the Hogwarts grounds. She used to, though. He was sure of it. He'd been going over everything in his mind for hours. He had been an idiot not to see it before, that was for sure. And now, there it was, staring him in the face, and the chance was gone. over the summer, he figured, she had just gotten tired of waiting for him. He sighed and closed his eyes, falling into a fitful sleep.

The Great Hall looked magnificent. It was decked out, once again, for the Yule Ball. Only something was missing. The people. The room was completely, eerily empty; the dim candles sending shadows flickering across the dim dance floor.

Footsteps echoed through the entrance of the hall and two figures appeared. One, a woman, was bathed in light; looking pristine in light blue airy dress robes and pale skin. The other, a man, kept to the shadows. He led her onto the dance floor and they began waltzing to music only they could hear. When she spoke, her voice rang in the silence.

"This was nice," she said pleasantly. Her partner chuckled.

"Yeah, nice," he agreed. "Very, very, exquisitely nice." He leaned towards her and brushed his lips against hers. She giggled and leaned into him.

"Well, um, I guess I'll see you on Monday," she giggled, a blush creeping up her neck.

"Hmm, I guess you will," he said, then leaned in to kiss her again. "Goodnight," he whispered. She smiled at him.

"Goodnight, Professor."

Ron jolted awake, just then realizing that he had been asleep. He looked down; someone had thrown a blanket over him. Someone had been in here. Turning his head, he saw a shadow retreating into the girl's dorm. Then he recalled his dream, a disturbing thought dawning on him.

It hadn't been a dream at all. At least, not the conversation. He had heard it from outside of his dream and somehow his subconscious had added it in. which could only mean one thing.

The student who was dumb enough to get involved with a teacher was a Gryffindor.

I don't like that page break. Oh well. It's done! yay! Rejoice! Another chapter, and longer than the last! I like the house elves. They're like self esteem on a platter. I want like five of them. So, thank you to my reviewers, as always, you make my life worthwhile. Special thanks now!

Momo: Why thank you! I also got what I want for you nailed down, and it's a doozy, but it doesn't come until way later so you'll have to wait a bit. Sooorrrries!

gwasshoppa: Photobooth is by the wonderful Death Cab for Cutie. I believe you can hear it at , if you search for them. And also, this story is what I want to be doing! Alas, all the other commitments I have make it hard to find time to write! So, I've gone back to my old habit of handwriting everything first in my notebook and typing it when I find the time. And I love bringing joy to people. Because joy is awesome!

CarrieWeasley: Ah, the new teacher... he doesn't make an appearance here, either... Don't worry, he's a pretty big part of the next chapter. He's a pretty big character in general, so there'll be a lot about him.

Commodore Norrington: Thanks! And, yes, I am indeed a band nerd. It's not very apparent in this story, but in the Cowboy Bebop fic I have (not published, yet, though. It probably will be soon. Hopefully) it's pretty evident. Heh.

Stephmus Prime: HEY GIRLFRIEND! So, the chapter to your liking? It better be. Or I'll have to take my revenge on you. Just joshing. Lya, kiddo!

Okay. Okay. Next chapter should be out soon. Really this time. I'm trying to put myself on a schedule or something, as I feel kinda bad about the sporadic updates. Next Saturday, then? It's a date!