Ginny knocked softly on Harry's door. She didn't actually expected a response; she was merely hoping that she could alert him to her presence, effectively making sure he did not throw something at her if he thought she was Ron. "Harry? Harry, it's your lovely, gorgeous, and brilliant fiancee. Can I come in?" No response came from behind the door. "Well, fine, I thought I'd be nice and ask, but your approval wasn't really necessary." She moved to open the door, only to find that it was locked. "Yes, well, now aren't I in a predicament?" she said sarcastically. "I mean, it isn't as though I am a witch and can just magic the door open. Oh, wait-- yes, I am. Nice try Mr. Potter, but..." It was at this point she realized she was only wearing an oversized Quidditch shirt. Her wand was still in Harry's bedroom. Okay, fine-- onto plan B. "Harry James Potter, you open this door right this instant or I will never, EVER, marry you!"
Click. The door opened wide enough for her to enter.
"Ha. Works every time. I play on your weakness of not being able to resist my charms." She wriggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, but Harry continued to stare out his window. She sat down next to him on his bed and put a comforting hand on his knee. "What happened? Ron apparated out in a huff. And he had a few choice words that one does not normally tend to use when speaking of his best friend." Still, Harry said nothing. "Harry? Harry look at me," she took his chin in her hand and physically turned his head to her.
"Gin, stop!" He moved his head out of his grip and stood up in front of the window. "I don't want to talk about this right now."
Ginny exhaled heavily and got up of the bed and moved to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist from behind and resting her head on his shoulder, she replied playfully, "Fine. We don't have to talk. We can do things like...like we did last night. Things that my brother would hate for us to be doing." He made no response, and she released her hold on him. "Fine. You know Harry, I love you to death, and I probably always will. Some might consider it a character flaw, but I don't much mind because I think you are the most wonderful person I know. I could, however, do without the brooding, 'no one understands me' bit. I'll be at the Burrow if you come to your senses."
She apparated out, and Harry kept on staring.
Hermione found herself in Ron's living room for the third time now. Everything looked just as it had the night before. Ron apparently still has something against cleaning, Hermione mused as she noticed his kitchen sink was still filled with the soiled dishes from their date the night before. Our date. Then again, he had not had much time for cleaning. She smiled as memories of the night before rushed back to her.
Ron had been such a gentleman. The night was so perfect before that ruddy elixir wore off. She had thought she knew Ron inside and out; that he was so predictable he would not have changed much in the five years since she had been gone, but he had. He was more forceful and less rash. Just a little bit less, though, she thought. He did jump on me as I apparated away. He seemed so much more confident. Even just five years ago, after he had already grown into his body and had become more toned from Quidditch, Hermione could tell that he still saw a lanky fifteen year old in the mirror. But when he had asked her out, she knew it was Ronald Weasley the man who was asking. The tips of his ears still changed to the slightest of pinks, but she only noticed because she expected it and knew where to look. Other than that small hint that he was nervous, she could have easily mistaken him for one of those blokes who thinks any women would be daft reject an offer of a date with him. And he knows how to cook...
"Oh..." she broke out her reverie to realize Ron was in front of her, leaning on the wall. "Hi."
"Hi," he responded, looking at her questioningly. A wisp of red hair fell across his eyes, and he swatted it away.
"I'm...um...I'm...um..." she muttered breathlessly. Why on earth can I suddenly not think of anything to say? I'm never at a loss for words!
"...at my house?" He offered.
"Yes. I am at your house," he looked at her, and she nervously laughed, realizing she should probably continue, "...and you are probably wondering why, right?"
He shrugged, "Not really. Beautiful women are always popping in at all hours."
"Oh...oh, well, right. I'm mean...of course they do," she could feel the blush rising on her cheeks and pang in her heart cause by an emotion she could not quite place, or perhaps, was not quite ready to admit to. He said he didn't date a lot though...oh, honestly, of course he does. Just look at him. No man would admit that though. Not to a girl they were trying to bed. Which I am sure is what he wanted before he realized who I was. Why does that hurt so much? He was starting to grin at her with that grin. Oh, no. What if he still just wants to bed me? What if he thinks that is why I am here-- that that's what I want? Well, he can just wipe that stupid grin off his face. "But I am afraid that is not why I am here, Ron. I am here--"
"What's not?" The grin was even wider now, and his eyes shone brighter with amusement.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"What's not what you are here for?"
"Honestly, Ron. You know perfectly well what I am talking about," he was making her flustered. He was always able to do that.
"No, I don't. Tell me."
"Well, you-- no, never mind, it really isn't important. Anyway, as I was saying--"
"No, Hermione. I want to know. I don't want to accidentally do what ever is you aren't here to do."
She snorted at that. "It isn't exactly something that you can do accidentally, Ron...well, at least, I don't think so."
"Well, just in case, perhaps you should tell me."
"No, that really isn't--"
"Come on, just say it, what's the big--"
"I'm telling you it's not a big deal, that is why I don't need to--"
"I really think you should just--"
"SEX, RON! Okay, I'm talking about SEX!" She inhaled sharply, covered her mouth with her hand, and looked at Ron wide eyed as she finished, blushing furiously. Their volumes had been increasing as this argument had gone on, and she had practically screamed that she had been 'talking about sex' in an otherwise utterly silent room.
Ron tried to hold back his laughter but could not succeeded in doing so for long before he burst. Within seconds he had tears streaming down his face and looked, in Hermione's opinion, as though he had gone mad.
Hermione got over her embarrassment immediately and focused her energy into being annoyed. "What is so funny, Ronald Weasley? Hmmm?" She folded her arms, tapped her foot, and glared at him.
By this point he had seated himself on his sofa, still laughing uncontrollably. He stopped laughing long enough to choke out, "you said 'sex'," and then continued to laugh again.
Hermione unfurled her arms and waved them through the air in irritation. "Honestly, Ron, we aren't seven. 'Sex' is just a word."
He was trying to hold back his laughter so hard that when she said the 's-word' again, he snorted instead of laughed. "Your right," --laughter-- "'sex'," --laughter-- "is not a funny word," --laughter-- "unless, it is you saying it." He was laughing into the cushion now.
Hermione was thoroughly annoyed and somewhat angered. "One more laugh out of you, and you will have a second person walking out on you in a huff today." Her glare had been growing more intense with each laugh.
He sobered somewhat as he said, "I was the one who did the walking today, Hermione. Harry just sat in a huff." His solemnity didn't last however as quite soon he was chuckling softly to himself again.
"That is it! I'm leaving!"
"No wait!" He reached out to her. "Don't go okay. I won't laugh anymore. You are absolutely right," he choked back a small laugh by turning it into a cough, "not funny. Not at all." He breathed deeply. "See," he said, pointing to his mouth, "no laughing. None at all. Just a smile that says I'm happy to see you." He patted the couch cushion next to him, "Sit with me, won't you?"
Despite her best efforts, she felt her resolve buckling at his smile. Damn him, she thought as she sat. "So, now that what we have established what you aren't here for--" she gave him a warning glare, "hey, give a bloke a chance, all right? Now that we have established what you are not here for, maybe you can clue me in as to what you are here for."
"I'm here to make sure you are all right. From what I got out of the situation--based solely on the yelling and door slamming--" her voice got softer and more consoling, "was that things didn't go very well with Harry."
Ron released a small, breathy laugh and shook his head. "No, I suppose you could say that things did not go very well."
"What happened?" She pulled her legs underneath her so she could turn her body towards Ron. "Did he not want to believe it?"
"No. He believed it. He already knew about it actually."
"What?"
"You heard me," he said so softly that if the room had not been completely silent, it would have been inaudible.
"Yeah, I heard you, but I don't understand. He knew? Knew what? Surely not about Voldemort being alive."
"That is exactly what he knew about."
"He couldn't have." Hermione's voice was almost pleading.
"You knew. Apparently, I was the only idiot who didn't understand there needed to be a body."
"Your not an idiot, Ron." She felt the need to say it even if they had bigger problems on their hands. "But what I mean is that Harry couldn't have known because there is no way he would be so irresponsible and...and...selfish as to not admit that and go on to tell the entire world that it was safe and sound from the most powerful and evil wizard of the age!" She was up on her feet now. Pacing back in forth in front of the sofa desperately trying to make sense of what Ron had just said.
"Well, it looks like he did."
"But that is so-- so-- I don't even know what it is, but it's completely awful! How on earth could he do that? How could he even live with himself these past five years?"
"Well, it was probably like you said; he wanted to believe it was all over. He most likely tricked himself into believing it," Ron said, rationalizing Harry's actions.
Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "Why are you so keen to defend him now when less than an hour ago you were storming out on him enraged?"
"I wasn't angry about that. Well, not only about that."
"And what could possibly have made you angrier?"
"He made a very not funny joke about me being 'just the sidekick.'"
"Oh, Ron, honestly. He was just kidding."
Now it was Ron's turn to scoff in disbelief. "Now who's defending him?"
"I'm defending him because he made a joke to try to lighten the mood. Hmm," she pretended to ponder the situation, "that reminds me of someone else I know. Can't think who though."
Ron cocked an eyebrow at her, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "YOU, Ron."
He could not argue with that. For years, in uncomfortable situations, his defense mechanism of making jokes would kick in. "Yeah, well the difference is that my jokes are funny."
"To you maybe."
"You always laughed at them." He moved closer to her; the tips of their toes were touching.
"I was young and stupid."
"You were never stupid, so I refuse to buy that excuse."
"I was also in love."
"Well, that is true."
"Viktor was such a handsome bloke." She said with the utmost seriousness. And Ron scowled.
"Now who's making bad jokes."
Hermione made the closest sound to a giggle she ever made in her life. Both were grinning like mad looking into each other's eyes. Ron look at her lips, and she licked her lower lip ever so slightly before biting it's corner. She looked back to Ron's eyes and had barely nodded in consent before his lips were on hers.
The kiss started off soft, and if they were to be honest, a bit awkward. This was the first kiss they shared that had not been in the passion of the moment or while he believed she was someone else. Neither were really sure what the were allowed to do: they had known each other since they were eleven, but they had not seen each other in five years; they had kissed twice before, but this was the first kiss that not spur of the moment; they were adults, but at the moment, both felt like they were seventeen again. When Ron finally decided to but his hands on her hips, and she placed her hands on the back of his neck, both lost all control and all awkwardness disappeared. Blind passion took over their actions as her fingers became lost in his hair, and his hands slid under her shirt to touch the smooth skin of her hips. She felt him nudge her back, and her feet began moving on their own accord until her heels hit the base of the sofa. His hand was on her back, and he supporting her as he lower them both onto the sofa, their lips never breaking contact.
In her head, Hermione knew that they should not be doing this. Voldemort was alive. They needed a plan. But this felt so good. His lips had moved off hers and were now on her neck, making in increasingly difficult for her to rationalize the reasons that this should not be happening. A few minutes of this won't hurt. And besides, Ginny is probably talking to Ha-- At that point, Ron was nibbling at her ear, and all chance of rationalizing was gone. That's it. I'm never going to move from this spot. Ever. Never ever. "Ron!" He looked up at her with guilty eyes, his hand poised at her belt buckle. Well that's one way to snap me back to reality. She maneuvered herself out from under him, and he sat, staring back at her like a puppy who knew he just did something wrong, but was not entirely sorry about it.
"I'm sorry. It's just when I start touching you and kissing you, my brain cells starting dying one by one at rapid speed and then I --"
"No." She looked directly at him. "Don't be sorry, okay? I'm not sorry. Well, I am sorry, but only because of the fact we don't have time for...that," she emphasized the word by looking at the sofa, "right now."
Ron's eyes widened when he caught on. "But...but we will later?"
She smirked at him coyly. "Maybe. Maybe some of it. Not all of it though. I don't want you accusing me of being a scarlet-woman after all."
"Scarlet is a great color on you." She laughed. She loved the feelings that came over her when she was around him.
"Well, we better get to Harry and Ginny." She noticed that Ron did not look too pleased with this idea. "We have to. We have bigger issues on our hands than some silly fight between you and your best friend."
"I still don't understand what we are supposed to do though. We know Voldemort is alive-- or rather, we believe he is, but we don't know where or how to find him."
"That's why we need to talk to Harry and Ginny. We need to come up with a plan. Yes, I realize it is a foreign idea to you and Harry, but let's try things my way shall we?"
"All right, if you really think this "plan" idea of yours will work." She stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, very mature, Miss Granger."
"I wasn't the one laughing for twenty minutes about a word." He pecked her swiftly, but softly on the lips, causing her to get that dreamy look reserved only for looking at him.
"Hey, Hermione," he said seriously.
"Yes?"
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"Say it again."
She rolled her eyes and hit him on the shoulder before apparating away.
He chuckled slightly to himself before he followed her to Harry's flat.
AN: Woo, that was a long chapter. Sorry about the wait. The whole "saying the word 'sex' bit" was kind of in another story but in a different way. The only thing the same was that Ron thought it was funny when she said it. I can't remember which it was, but I liked it and thought I'd put my own spin on it eventually, and lookie-lookie, I did ;) In case anyone is wondering, I have a thread for this story on the Shameless Plugs forum (on ), I usually post there about updates and such, and you can feel free to leave me a message or ask questions.