This is about a day late, and I apologize!

My birthday was Friday the 23rd, and I got kidnapped by my friends, where they got me very drunk. I had a great time, so much so that I spent the night and didn't get a chance to post this until now.

Last bit of fluff for a while, so enjoy!

PG-13, for occasional lewdness and the F-bomb at least once.

With confusion, and a bit of amusement, Ron Weasley watched his best mate appear out of their tent, walking stiff and hunched over.

He looked a bit like a penguin with a broken leg.

Ron called out a greeting, but Harry walked right passed him. He was happy that Harry didn't respond, because Ron got an unfortunately up close look at the reason for Harry's strange gait.

Harry walked straight on into the water, not stopping until he was submerged up to his chest.

Ron looked over at the tent, then back at Harry. It didn't take him long to figure it out.

He carefully extracated himself from Hermione, who was taking a catnap next to Ron on the sand.

She stirred slightly, then blinked up at him owlishly. "Hmm…what?"

"Sorry, love. Didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay." Hermione stretched languidly, then asked, "What's wrong with Harry?"

"That's what I'm about to find out. Why don't you see to Ginny?"

Hermione searched his eyes, attempting to read his thoughts.

With a shrug and a peck to Ron's cheek, Hermione rose and shuffled off sleepily in the direction of the tent.

Deciding for once to practice a bit of patience, Ron remained where he was, hoping Harry would eventually come over to him.

After a good ten minutes in the water, he trudged back out, squeezing out the excess water from his clothing as he moved.

After scanning Ron's face for signs of imminent death, Harry plopped down next to him in the sand.

"Hey," Harry mumbled.

"Hey," answered Ron.

With a sigh, Harry scooped up some sand, letting it run through his fingers.

"I love her." Harry's quiet declaration startled Ron, who had been expecting at least another few minutes of awkward silence.

"Yeah." Ron couldn't help but smile a bit. "I sort of figured."

"She's the best thing that's ever happened to me, besides you and Hermione.

I don't want you to think that I'm just messing with her."

"You'd better not be."

"It's hard, I mean, we talked earlier about taking things slow, and I absolutely agree, but then she…and it's…."

"Hard?" Ron supplied, chuckling.

Harry gave him a half-hearted slap on the head, before laughing as well.

"Yeah, that too."

"You've got to be careful, Harry. This place, being alone and all…. it makes it really difficult to know when to stop. Hermione and I…well, there was a pretty close call, and I definitely don't want anything like that happening with you and my sister."

Harry quirked a brow. "What exactly did happen?"

Ron sighed, weighing his need to get an objective perspective against his embarrassment.

"It was the berries, apparently. There's something in em'that makes you really, really randy."

"And how is this any different from usual?"

"Shut up, Harry. I'm being serious. I ate a bloody basketful, and next thing I know, Hermione is pulling me towards this incredible hot spring thing and we're going at it."

"Yeah?" Harry's eager tone suggested that he wanted Ron to continue.

"And she's totally into it, and I mean, it never felt that way before, like I'd die if I didn't touch her everywhere. Everywhere she touched me was like this incredible tingle, and I swear that I've never been harder in my life.

I don't know how there couldn't been blood left anywhere else in my body. And before, I could, you know, think of Professor Sprout or something and get a bit of control, but nothing I tried was working.

It just got hotter, and frantic and all of a sudden, I'm between her legs and there's this deafening ringing in my ears, and I couldn't even think anymore. She tried to tell me to stop, but I couldn't. I couldn't."

"Wait." Harry sat up, the smirk gone from his face. "You didn't stop when she asked?"

Ron shrugged helplessly. He would never forget what he'd almost done as long as he lived. "I was totally gone. Voldemort could've appeared and started wanking off next to us and I still don't think I could've stopped."

"So, what…I mean, did you guys..?"

"No, I sort of, well, finished before anything else could happen."

Harry's hand came up to cover his mouth, no doubt to mask his grin. "Finished?"

At a loss for words, Ron gestured down slightly, and repeated, "Yeah, finished."

"I see."

"Apparently, I blacked out right after, and you know the rest."

Harry nodded, wisely keeping silent.

"The point, Harry, is that we're out here with two girls, one of whom is my sister, and one who might as well be yours. We care about them, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"So maybe the two of us should, not be so…."

"Incredibly horny?"

"Right."

Harry rubbed his face wearily. "In theory, I agree. Especially when I think about you and Hermione running around shagging like it's your own personal Pleasure Island.

But, Ron….have you looked at your sister? I mean looked at her now, not like the ten year old you lot continue to treat her as?"

"What's your point, Harry?"

"She's fucking gorgeous, Ron. Her body is…and her face, and her voice…and she's nice! Do you know how hard it is to find a girl that lovely who isn't barmy in the head?"

Ron pretended to ponder the question a moment. "To tell you the truth, Harry, I reckon I've always thought Ginny was a bit nutty, Hermione too, come to think of it."

"Ron."

"Okay, okay. I get your point. And yes, I understand how hard it is to find someone, especially considering your hero-ness and all, but hopefully, we're not gonna be on this bloody island for the rest of our lives. And when we do get out of here, I would like to be able to look my parents in the face and tell them that I actually looked after my sister."

"Would it be so bad, Ron? I could be perfectly happy here for the rest of my life."

"C'mon Harry, you know we have to find a way back, or else who's going to deal with …V-Voldemort?"

"Do you have any idea what it's like to finally be at peace after sixteen years of one hell after another? The Dursleys, then, thank god, I'm a wizard, but wait, here it's even worse, because the most powerful, evil thing in this world wants nothing more than to destroy you! Don't blame me for wanting to enjoy a break in the catastrophe that is my life."

Harry, now breathing heavily, slumped back down. He had gotten increasingly loud during his tirade, and Ron had glanced back nervously, not wanting the girls to get worried.

'I'm sorry, mate. No, I don't know how you feel, but I do know that everyone I care about besides who is here with me now is in danger. I know that if we don't find a way back home, they'll all be dead. Everyone we care about, Harry! This is bigger than us, and you know it."

Harry shook his head ruefully.

"You're really spending way too much time with Hermione, Ron. I know you're right, but…I just wanted…I have this fantasy."

Ron face screwed up in a grimace. "What kind of fantasy?"

"Not that sort, you wanker. It's like…you and Hermione, and Ginny and I, living here, building treehouses and being domestic and stuff. Making a life. I just didn't want to let go of the idea."

Ron thought for a moment. It actually sounded pretty great. He and Mione, living together, taking care of each other. No more homework, or school, or…magic?

"It does sound cool, Harry, at least for a while. But don't tell me you could really live for long without getting on a broomstick. Because I sure couldn't. Not to mention wizard's chess. Or treacle tarts. And blimey, chocolate frogs. I really miss chocolate frogs."

Harry laughed in spite of himself. "You do have a point."

"We can have the best of both, Harry. You'll take care of V-Voldemort, then we'll have a huge celebration and build treehouses at the Burrow where we can rough it all we like and kiss our girls."

"And play Quidditch," Harry added dryly.

"Course, mate. Of course."

Ron heard a rustle behind him. Looking back, he saw that the girls had emerged from the tent and were walking towards them. For perhaps the first time, he really looked at his sister, as Harry had suggested. She was actually…quite lovely, Ron realized.

She was small, and compact, whereas Hermione was a bit taller and leaner, but, wow, his sister was definitely a looker, which was quite odd, seeing as she shared a lot of his features.

If there was one thing Ron knew he wasn't it was handsome. But on her, the freckles looked softer and the hair was less bright, more…blended, he supposed?

During his perusual, Ron realized that their clothes were showing evidence of wear and tear. There shirts had a few holes here and there, courtesy of fruit picking he was sure, and they just looked….worn out.

Before they'd had a chance to sit down, Ron remarked, "You need to do something about your clothes, girls."

Before Hermione had even had the chance to get huffy, Harry countered, "No, they don't."

Ron noticed the direction of Harry's gaze. The idiot was practically drooling at Ginny.

"As much as I like Hermione's outfit, there is just no way I can enjoy it if I have to look at my sister like that."

"So don't. You look at Hermione, I'll look at Ginny, and we'll have no problems."

Ron gave Harry a withering stare.

"Wait a second. You actually like how I look?" Hermione was incredulous.

"My hair resembles a small hurricane, I haven't been able to bathe properly, and I desperately need a hygiene charm."

She crossed her arms, as if daring Ron to disagree.

"Wow, I never know you had a little Lavender in you, Hermione."

"You take that back, Ronald Weasley!"

"Will not. Who knew you could be just as girly as the rest of that lot."

"Ah yes," Ginny interjected. "The bickering. Number one in their vast arsenal of sexual tension avoidance tools."

"Hey!" Ron stopped arguing long enough to address Ginny.

 "I would really prefer you not to think, speak on, or speculate about my sex life."

"Or lack thereof, to be accurate. And it's way too late for that Ronny, or did you think Hermione and I discussed baking all day?"

Ron, sputtering, turned predictably red.

Hermione had the grace to blush and look down at her feet momentarily, avoiding Ron's accusing gaze.

"With my sister?" Ron looked sickened.

"Like you and Harry don't talk about it," she shot back.

"We don't!" They both said simultaneously. Harry and Ron exchanged guilty glances; it was, after all, what they'd just been discussing before the girls walked up.

"What's number two?" asked Harry curiously.

'That would be tickling." Ginny grinned viciously. "It was about the only way Ron here could get his hands on Hermione."

Ron blanched. "You knew that?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It was obvious to everyone but the three of you."

"Why don't I remember Ron tickling Hermione?" Harry interjected.

"Because he oh so conveniently did it when you were otherwise engaged. Like Quidditch practice, for instance."

Ron groaned. "I can't believe you knew!"

Hermione frowned. "Well, I didn't know. I thought you were being your normal annoying self and just distracting me so I wouldn't nag you about your homework."

"Sometimes," Ron admitted. "But other times, you'd be sitting there, nibbling on your bloody quill or something, and it'd be all I could do not to lean over and…I dunno, lick your neck, for instance."

Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry and Ginny were desperately trying to still their laughter.

"Because, you know," Ron continued hastily, "You'd have your head cocked to one side, and your neck would just be there, all creamy and sexy-like. It wanted to be tasted."

Harry and Ginny were roaring with laughter, flailing around in the sand like lunatics.

Ron shot them a dark look, before continuing on, though he was noticeably more flustered.

"So I ticked you. It was fun, it you know, let me touch you in a way where I wouldn't get slapped, and it had the added benefit of annoying you."

Hermione giggled. "I can't believe I never thought you….well, yes, come to think of it, you did tickle me more than anyone else did."

"Wait, who else tickled you? Harry?"

"Uh, no." Harry's voice was quiet. "Never really had a yen to tickle Hermione."

Hermione was looking everywhere but at Ron.

He'd seen that look of avoidance before. Whenever they discussed….

"He tickled you, didn't he? Bloody tossing Viktor Krum!"

Ron could tell the answer from the look he received in return.

"Honestly Ron, Viktor tickling me is not that big of a deal. It doesn't mean anything."

"It means he was trying to touch you, Hermione! Any bloke that tickles a girl not related to him is trying to get somewhere."

"Well, Ron, George tickled me before. I suppose that means he's after me as well?"

"Okay, that one doesn't count. You're like a sister to him, same as Harry tickling you."

"That's not entirely accurate," said Ginny, grinning wickedly.

"What do mean?" Ron and Hermione asked, as one.

"I happen to know that George fancied Hermione once upon a time."

"He did not!" Ron practically roared, his head spinning. His sodding brother?

"He did so, in his fifth year, when you and Harry were being utterly wretched, practically ignoring Hermione for the whole of the school year."

"How'd you know that?" Harry asked her, quietly.

"Because both of the twins were being really nice to me, after...after my first year.

I guess they figured that they could have done something to stop if they hadn't been so busy alternating between teasing me and ignoring me."

Ron moved uncomfortably. It wasn't far from the way he had felt after the Chamber.

"Anyway," continued Ginny, "I heard Fred teasing George about liking a little third year, especially one that wouldn't know fun if it bit her in the arse. I sort of figured it out from there. Especially since he tickled you. Tickling always gives the game away."

"If it bit her in the arse?" Hermione echoed angrily. The other three continued on as if she hadn't spoken, not wanting to acknowledge that the statement fit Hermione quite well.

"Why didn't you tickle Harry then, Gin? I mean, what with your undying love and all."

"Because, you prick, I was trying not to be obvious, unlike some people who didn't even realize what they were on about!"

"I realized it," Ron protested.

At this, Hermione huffed. "Oh, yes, when I put on dress robes, you got a clue."

"I fancied you before that," Ron protested.

"Oh really? When?" Hermione questioned, her expression clearly disbelieving.

Ron's reply was never heard, for Ginny had given a shriek and scrambled up to her feet.

"There's a man up there!" Ginny shakily pointed to the edge of the woods.

Three heads whipped around.

"There's no one over there, Ginny. Problem just an animal or something."

"No, I'm telling you, I saw him. He was really tall and dark, and the only reason I noticed was because he had some kind of ring on and it caught on some sunlight."

Ginny ran off without a word, intent on proving herself correct.

With a groan, and an eyeroll, Ron got to his feet. "Let's go see what she's on about," he muttered, and Harry and Hermione stood as well.

As they reached Ginny, she was whirling around looking frantically around.

"I swear, I saw someone!"

"Well, he's not here now, love. Why don't we go for a swim, cool off a bit?"

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "I think Gin's brain got overheated."

With the skilled ease, Ginny stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"Er, guys?" Hermione's voice was shaky.

Harry, Ron and Ginny followed the direction of her trembling finger to the path of footprints visible in the muddy bank. Large, human, footprints. Leading straight into the dark of the forest.

Next chapter:

I'm not telling you. But trust me, you'll like it.