(A/N: Sadly Harry Potter and the other characters do not belong to me. I am only playing around with the wonderful characters J.K. Rowling has given this world.)

The Measure of a Man

Ron Weasley felt on the verge of tears. Oh that's great, he thought, just add insult to injury and have a good cry? Why did this happen? Why now, when everything seemed to be going so right? He was doing better in classes, his Quidditch was making him on of the most popular boys in Gryffindor, and even his and Hermione's bickering had subsided to a tolerable level. Now this. He'd never live this down. It would take weeks, months, years to regain his short lived confidence.

As he ran down the hallways of Hogwarts, he looked desperately for somewhere to hide, somewhere no one would find him. As it would happen that was the moment he saw an unoccupied classroom. Ducking inside he slammed the door just as the tears came. He slumped down to the floor and buried his face in his hands. This was one of the single most embarrassing days of his life. As he cried he replayed it in his head.

The common room was quite, as Gryffindors spent the rainy Saturday studying for their looming exams. Ron, Harry and Hermione sat together at a small table. Ron leaned intently over his potions essay, trying to ignore the sound of the rain hitting the window behind him. As a loud boom of thunder filled Gryffindor tower everyone jumped. Slowly Ron's heart beat recovered its steady pace his leaned over his parchment once more.

Feeling something graze his cheek he raised his hand to brush it way. A second later he felt it again. As he swatted at it he heard a small thud as something landed on the table in front of him.

With a shriek he was out of his chair and up against the window. The entire room turned and looked at Ron, then at the table to see what had frightened him. There, in the middle of his potions essay was a fat black spider no bigger than a Knut. A roar of laughter filled the room as students began to point and joke about Ron. After a few jeers, Ron could no longer pair voices with insults.

Someone started reciting "Little Miss Muffet" as Ron pushed his way through the crowed to the portrait hole.

Now here he sat, crying in an empty classroom. He'd made a fool of himself. He'd screamed like a little girl, over a spider. He felt shame welling up inside him. "Why do I have to be so afraid," he said almost as if he expected to receive an answer.

Just then the sound of footsteps came from outside the door, followed by muffled voices. Ron cracked the door a bit to see a group of Seventh Year girls coming down the hall. Lavender Brown was talking rather loudly, emphasizing important words with her hands as she always did when telling a story.

"And the -bam- his chair hit the floor and he was screaming bloody murder, all over a tiny little spider."

"No way," said Susan Bones, "I don't believe he really screamed."

"Oh," piped Parvati Patil, "He was terrified. You remember how scared he was back in third year, and that was just a boggart."

"Honestly Susan you should have been there, it was so funny. The look on his face, you'd have thought it was You-Know-Who in Animagus."

Pansy Parkinson scoffed, "Some Gryffindor he is. Bloody manly of him," she laughed, wetting himself over a spider."

Ron closed the door as the girls voices faded down the hall. Things couldn't get any worse than this. It wasn't what the girls were saying, or even the fact that now people from other houses knew about it, it wasn't any of those things that brought tears back to his eyes. It was the fifth member of the party of girls. As he looked out the door he saw a glimpse of salvation in Hermione's presence in this group. Surely she'd put a stop to the jokes. Surely she would stand up for him. But she didn't. She said nothing; she just walked along with them, listening to everything they said.

Did she agree with them? Did she think him weak? The feeling of embarrassment shifted to anger. What did they know? He was plenty manly. He'd faced things Wizards twice his age would cower to. Of course Harry and Hermione were beside him at the time, but that was beside the point. He'd show them, he thought, anger giving way to determination, he'd show them all just how manly he was. There was just one problem; he didn't know the first thing about being manly. But suddenly something sparked in his brain and he made for the secret passage leading to the cellar of Honeydukes, then with a -crack- he was standing in his brother's shop in Diagon Alley.

"Oy, no apparateing in the shop," yelled a brutish voice, "use the door like a civilized Wizard."

"Sorry Fred, I forgot."

At the sound of his brother's voice Fred whirled around. "Ron! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

"No, its Saturday."

"I know what day it is. What are you doing of campus during term?"

"Jeez, Fred, relax. You're starting to sound like Mum."

"I wouldn't go that far, I just want to know what would make a prefect break as many rules as you have to come here."

Ron hadn't thought about it that way. How many rules was he breaking by being here? It didn't matter, he needed to learn to be manly and manly to him meant Fred and George.

"I need you're help," Ron said taking a serious tone his brother barely recognized.

"Sure, little brother, what is it?"

"Can't say right now," he said glancing around at all the customers in the store.

"No worries," said Fred looking at his watch, "we close for lunch at half twelve, can you stick around another fifteen minutes?"

"Sure."

Those fifteen minutes passed slowly as Ron sat behind the counter watching his older brother handling the customers. I slowly began to wonder where George was, but a ring at the door answered that question.

George entered the shop with two brown delivery bags from the Leaky Cauldron, nearly dropping them as he saw Ron.

"Ron! What are you doing here? Is everything okay? What's happened?"

"Nothings happened. I just came to ask you and Fred for a favor."

"You came from school to ask us a favor? Isn't that against like twenty rules? I thought you were supposed to be a prefect?"

"Will you forget about me being prefect? This is serious."

"Okay, okay," said Fred who'd just come from locking the door behind the last leaving customer, "what exactly is this favor you need so badly."

"I need you to teach me to be manly."

The two of them looked at each other then burst into laughter.

"Stop laughing, I'm serious."

"Alright, Ron, what exactly do you mean?"

"I need you to teach me how to be manly," he repeated, then went into the almost tearful story of what had happened no more than an hour and a half ago. "So I need you to help me be manlier; I have to show them all that I'm not a coward."

For a moment the Twins were silent, then Fred spoke, "So this is all because Hermione didn't stick up for you?"

"No! This doesn't have anything to do with her. I'm just sick of everyone thinking I'm weak because I'm afraid of a stupid spider."

"You know Fred, this is all your fault," said George shooting a look at his twin.

"How is this my fault?"

"You had to turn his teddy bear into a spider when we were little. He wouldn't be the least bit afraid if it wasn't for you."

"Well, he shouldn't have broken my broom stick."

"Whatever," interrupted Ron, "it doesn't matter why I'm afraid. The point is I am and I always will be. What I need is to figure out how to show her…them that I'm not weak."

Fred and George sniggered at the word 'her' slipping in the middle of Ron's rant.

"Well!"

"Okay, here's what we do," said Fred, "You come out with us for the night and by the time you go back to Hogwarts you'll be more of a man than most of the Professors."

Ron reluctantly agreed, but wondered what exactly Fred had in mind.

By sundown Ron found himself on a stool in the Leaky Cauldron with a bottle of fire whisky in front of him. It wouldn't be long before Ron could no longer read the label on the bottle, that was the point when a very sober Fred and George gathered up their younger brother and started for the next stop of the night.

The next morning Ron walked slowly towards Gryffindor Tower. In the quite of morning the chimes from the clock tower sounded like they were pounding inside Ron's head. This could have also been caused by the massive hangover Ron was suffering from, but it hurt all the same.

He reached his bed and pulled his curtains shut just in time to hear Harry stir and wake. Seeing that his best friend's curtains were drawn, he thought it best not to bother him. The other boys woke and followed suit.

Ron wasn't sure how long he'd slept when he finally woke to the sound of someone calling his name. As his eyes opened, he squinted at the sunlight pouring past his now open curtains. Shielding his eyes with his hand he could make out a familiar shape standing over him.

"What you want Hermione?"

"I came to check on you," she said sitting beside him on the bed, "I couldn't find you last night, then I waited up until sunrise. Where have you been?"

"No where, I just walked around a bit. I needed time to think."

"Ronald Weasley, do you expect me to believe that you spent all day and all night walking around the campus thinking?"

"What's the matter Hermione, shocked to find I'm capable of thought?" He sat up facing her. "So now, not only am I not manly, I'm stupid as well."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, and when did I ever say you weren't manly?"

"You didn't, but you certainly didn't try to convince those girls otherwise."

"What girls?" Hermione's face fell, suddenly realizing what Ron was talking about. He'd heard the other girls making jokes about him. He must have. And that meant he'd seen her response, or better yet, her lake of it there of. She'd stood there and let them say those things, fearing that they would take her standing up for her as her having feelings for him. Not that she didn't have feelings for him, but they didn't need to know that. Hell, Ron didn't even know. She felt like crying as she looked into Ron's disappointed eyes. She'd fail him, she knew it.

"Ron, I'm sorry."

"Whatever," he said rolling out of the bed. He swayed as he did, falling back onto the bed.

It was then that Hermione could smell the liquor on his breath. He was long since sober, but the effects of his night out with the Twins still lingered.

"Ron," she said pleadingly, "what happened last night?"

"I told you, nothing. I just had to go do some manly things with my brothers."

"Your brothers? How? Ron," she said in shock, "you left campus?"

"What do you care? I'm just a stupid little boy, what difference does it make if I break a rule or two?"

"Or six!"

"Or six. What business is it of yours? It's not like you care."

"That's not true, Ron. I do care about you."

Finally regaining his balance he stood and faced her. "Oh, you care about me breaking rules, but you don't care enough to stand up for me when your friends make fun of me. That's real convenient. I've always stood up for you Hermione, ALWAYS!"

He turned to walk away, but she reached for his arm. He winced as her fingers wrapped around his left forearm. His eye where clenched shut as she stepped in front of him.

"Ron, I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to hurt you. I should have stood up for you, I know that. I'm sorry."

He said nothing, only kept his eyes closed.

"Ron, would you just look at me?"

"I will as soon as you let go of my arm."

Hermione let go, noticing for the first time that here was a slight bump under the fabric of his sleeve.

"What's that?"

"Proof."

"Proof of what?"

"Proof that I'm a man."

As if struck by lightning the pieces fell together, coming in drunk, a night out with his brothers, his arm in pain. "Ron you didn't."

"What! I heard those girls yesterday. 'Some Gryffindor he is,'" he mocked in his best Pansy voice. "I know what you all think of me. I'm weak, just a frightened little boy who shrieks at the sight of a spider. Well, know you see," he said holding out his arm, but not yet exposing the still fresh ink imbedded into his skin, "Ron Weasley is a man."

Hermione didn't know weather to laugh or cry. It was so silly and yet so sad to think of the lengths he'd gone to just to prove his manliness. She gently took his arm, placing her palm softly over the place where his shirt puffed up.

"Ron, you didn't have to go get tattooed to be a man. You're one of the bravest men I know. You have been since our first year."

Ron scoffed.

"No, I'm serious. It took guts to face that troll. I watched you. You were fearless."

"I was not. I was terrified."

"You hid it well. You came in and took charge and saved both mine and Harry's lives."

"Okay, so you think I'm brave, so what? What about everyone who saw me jump back ten feet because of a spider?"

"What about them? It doesn't matter what they think Ron. All that matters is what's true, and the truth is you're just about as manly as a seventeen year old boy can get."

Ron lowered his head, thinking of how dumb he'd been going off and getting a tattoo to prove he was a man, and for what, for Hermione to compile into a few sentenced what he was trying to say with a half an hours worth of pain. "You must think I'm really stupid."

"Not at all, a little rash maybe, but never stupid."

"I can't believe I did this," he said looking at his arm, "now I'll forever have this reminder of the night I tried to prove my manlieness."

"Well," she said incouragingly, "maybe its not so bad. What is it anyway?"

At this point Ron gently rolled up his sleeve and removed the bandage to expose a column of eight runic symbols running down his forearm.

Hermione gently ran her fingers over it, felling the skin raise beneath her fingertips. "It's quite pretty, what does it say?"

Ron bit his bottom lip, "Um…I'm not really sure…I remember getting to the tattoo parlor, and telling the guy where I wanted it, then I remember the pain, and getting really sober really fast, but I can't remember for the life of me what it says. It could say 'I love Mum' for all I know."

"Well then, you're in luck. These runes look simple enough, I can probably read them." She looked down at his arm once more, this time more intently. After a brief moment, she jerk away from him pulling her hands to her mouth in shock.

"What? What does it say?"

"It says…"she blushed a bit, "Hermione."

"What! You're joking right? There's no way it says that."

Hermione forgot about being embarrassed at the thought of being told she was wrong. "No look," she said pointing to each symbol one at a time, "H-E-R-M-I-O-N-E. That's what it says, Hermione."

Ron looked at his arm in disbelief, and it all came rushing back to him. Sitting in the tattoo artists chair, wondering what to get, George suggesting he get Hermione's name. Fred agreeing that it would be a very manly way of expressing his feelings for her. He examined the second and last letter, finding them to be the same symbol. Oh, God, he thought, covering his arm with the palm of his hand, I've gone and tattooed her name on my arm. She's sure to figure out why, this is Hermione after all. He could feel all the color drain from his face as she said his name.

"Ron," she said softly.

His eyes refused to meet hers.

"Ron, why did you get my name tattooed on you're arm."

"I just…" he stopped, trying to find the correct words, "I thought maybe…" damn, he'd just had them a second ago, "I wanted to show you…" just say it Ron. Be a man, "I wanted to tell you that I…love…you." The last three words seemed to take the very breath from his lungs. He didn't move, didn't breath, he wasn't even sure his heart was beating as he waited for her reply.

Without warning she threw her arms around his neck pulling his lips to hers, then pulling away, "You sweet, sweet man. That is the single nicest thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Really!" His voice jumped an octave.

"Yes. There I was letting those girls slander your name, because I was to afraid to let you know how I felt, and you go and do something like this to show me."

"Well I….wait…what? Afraid to let me know what?"

Hermione blushed and kicked at the rug beneath her feet. "Afraid to let you know how I felt about you."

"You feel about me…I mean," not making any sense even to himself, "you like me?"

"No." Ron's heart sank, "It more like love."

At that he locked his arms around her lifting her up for a kiss. He ignored the searing pain in his left arm as it pressed against her back. Sitting her back down he rested his forehead against hers and watched her caress the tender skin that would now be permanently bare her name.

"You know," she said, "I rather like it. Its quite…"

"Manly."

"Yes, that's the word, quite manly. It suits you."

Ron stood taller and raised an eyebrow as Hermione gave a devilish little grin.

"I'll show you manly," he said pulling her into him as he backed toward his bed.

The End...Please Read and Review.