~Hermione's Point Of View~

To my disdain, the Ministry had arranged it so that the two Representatives were seated next to each other on the plane. And, of course, they were window seats, so I had no hope of speaking to anyone besides Ron. When I'd finally caught up to him, we'd rolled our eyes at each other and turned our backs so we were facing opposite directions.

Now, an hour later, we were still turned away from each other. Well, I was at least. I hadn't turned to see if he still was. With this lack of conversation though, I was left with my book, but my thoughts were taking over and I'd been blankly staring at the pages in front of me for about half an hour.

~It's all so stupid! If Ron would only apologize, then we could move on with our lives. I would gladly forgive him; I just want to hear two little words. "I'm sorry." Is it that difficult?~

I sighed heavily. I'd realized that this flight was going to take forever. We still had an hour to go!

I was taken out of my trance by a sharp tap on my shoulder. I turned my head toward the aisle, where it had come from, and found an annoyed flight attendant. "Madam, I said, would you like something to drink?"

"Oh, uh, yes, that would be nice. Maybe a...diet coke?" I said, flustered for a moment by her rudeness.

She made a cursory attempt at filling the plastic cup, thrust it at me, and then turned to stare adoringly at the blob next to me. "And what about your friend?"

This lady was really starting to get on my nerves. First, she practically bruises my shoulder with her fake nails, then she forgets to put ice in my drink, and THEN she wants ME to be the go-between in her flirty antics? Uh, I think not. "Why don't you ask him yourself?" I muttered menacingly.

Her eyes snapped off of Ron and turned coldly toward me. "I would if he wasn't sleeping." She opened her mouth to say something else, but instantly shut it, as if remembering her job and how much she was risking it by arguing with a customer. She then forced a sugary sweet smile on her face. "Do you know what he would like?"

I couldn't believe this. While I was obsessing over Ron, he had the indecency to SLEEP? "Ugh, Ron!" I said harshly, turning toward him. But any more words were caught in my throat. He was leaning against the plane's window, propped up by a pillow. He was attempting to cover up his long body with the small blanket that he'd obviously taken from the compartment above. His breathing was soft and rhythmic, and his lips were parted slightly. His hair was, if possible, even more tousled, and I was caught up in the fact of how adorable he looked when he slept. The sun was setting, sending an orangish glow over his skin, causing him to look much more boyish than manly. At the sound of my voice, he shifted unconsciously, and I immediately shut my mouth in fear of waking him.

On the other side of me, the flight attendant cleared her throat. "I really must serve the other customers. Do you know what he would like to drink?"

At this point, I didn't care how annoyed she was. But, I unhappily tore my eyes away from the endearing sight of Ron. "Um...yes. Do you have any pumpkin juice?"

The stewardess' nose wrinkled in disgust, but she reached down to the bottom shelf of the cart and extracted a small pitcher of the juice. She handed it to me, and quickly moved on, obviously no longer interested in someone who would choose pumpkin juice.

I put the glass into the other holder on my tray since his wasn't down, and stole another glance at Ron. He shifted again, this time causing the blanket to slip off his shoulders. A few moments later, he shivered slightly. I stared for a moment, and then glanced around me, making sure no one would see what I was about to do. When I didn't see anyone watching us, I carefully picked up the blanket, and tucked it back around his shoulders.

He sighed, and a small smile went on his face. "Thanks," he murmured.

I smiled and turned back to my book.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~Ron's Point Of View~

"Come on, Hermione!" I said, irritated. In the past few hours, we'd endured a postponed landing, lost luggage, found luggage, lack of taxis, and each other. Now, hours later than expected, we were finally at our Muggle hotel, Chateau de Paris. Well, we were actually in the process of hauling our heavy suitcases up the many, many stairs in front of the hotel, and I wanted to get in as soon as possible. This was something that Hermione was delaying with her slowness.

"Ron, do you think I'm not trying? Stop complaining, and go check in if you're in that much of a hurry." I heard her grunt, heaving her bag up another stair.

I rolled my eyes and dropped my bags at the top of the staircase where I was waiting ever so patiently. "I'll do it." I leapt down the stairs and attempted to take it from her until I realized why she was having so much trouble with it. It must have weighed 150 pounds! "Hermione, what do you have in here?" I groaned, pulling it behind me.

"Just some light reading. I didn't think it would weigh so much." She said, somewhat embarrassed. She snatched up another handle and began hauling it with me.

I couldn't help it, and I burst out laughing. "Hermione, you never change."

She immediately dropped her hold on the bag, causing me to fall back a step. "What's that supposed to mean?" she inquired, eyes flashing. "Personally, I think change is highly overrated. Besides, I can change. It's not like I'm incapable of it or something, I just-"

"Hermione! Calm down." I said, annoyed. She always got so worked up over things! "I didn't say it like it was a bad thing. It's actually kind of cute." I grinned sideways at her until I felt my ears turning pink. Why did that always happen? I cleared my throat loudly. "Come on, let's go check in."

After making our way through the rotating door, we finally entered what must have been the most elegant building I have ever been in, and Hermione headed for the front desk. I, on the other hand, could not believe what was in front of me. Huge golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling every few feet, lighting up the shining wooden floor that were decked with thick maroon carpets. Other guests were lounging about on the many squashy chairs and couches that were placed in front of fireplaces. Bouquets of flowers were on every table, and bellboys were waiting on people's every move.

I had never been in a place like this before.

"Ron? Are you coming?" Hermione stood before the front desk, looking at me with an amused expression. When I nodded dumbly, she knowingly tapped the small silver bell on top of the desk as if she'd done that every day of her life.

It wasn't long before a middle-aged woman with a creased brow and gray-streaked hair appeared on the other side. Her crisp gray dress suit seemed to reflect her personality as she glared at Hermione for interrupting her peace and quiet. "Can I help you?" she asked, without an ounce of hospitality.

Hermione seemed to pick up on the emotion, and she appeared to answer the woman with as much of a friendly tone as she could muster. "Yes, I'd like to check in. My name is Hermione Granger." I watched as she began to rummage through her purse, probably searching for some means of pay or identification.

I heard the rapid typing of the woman, and I began to mindlessly flip through the brochures, until-

"Yes, here you are." The woman said, typing rapidly onto the keys. "The Presidential Suite with a...Ronald Weasley? Yes, that's right. This room has already been paid for, so here are your keys, and-"

By this time, Hermione and I were both staring at her as if she were insane. I wasn't sure about Hermione, but I knew that I was beginning to feel a little dizzy by the loss of blood from my head.

"There must be a mistake," I said, probably too urgently. I stepped in next to Hermione and attempted to lean over the counter to look at the computer. She must have read something wrong!

The lady, however, wasn't too fond of me invading her space, and she swatted my hand away, sighing indignantly. "Sir, I have worked here for many, many years. I would be fully aware of it if a mistake had occurred. However, it states clearly on this screen that Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley have reserved and pre-paid for the Presidential Suite. If there is a problem with this reservation, I am not the person to talk to; therefore, here are your keys. I trust that two young people such as yourselves can handle this situation." She paused for a breath, and glared at Hermione and I with a look much like Professor McGonagall causing both of us to shrink and nod obediently. With a snap, the keys were slammed onto the counter top, and as the sounds of the woman's heels clicking on the wood faded away, Hermione and I were left to stare at the two keys in front of us, both with the same room number: 1024.

"I can't believe this," I heard Hermione mutter after what must have been a few minutes.

I glanced sideways at her, and I noticed that she looked as pale as I felt. If we'd already fought in the few hours that we'd been together, it wasn't even plausible that we could live together for who knows how long without biting each others heads off. Literally. I suddenly had a sickening vision of her throwing one of her well-researched curses at me while my head flew through an open window.

"Bloody hell," I said, mindlessly grabbing one of the keys. Without a second thought, I headed toward the elelvator.

"Language, Ron!" Hermione said warningly. She miserably grabbed her own bags and followed me. We dragged all of our things onto the dark elevator, and as the doors silently slid shut behind us, the silence was unbearable.

"Do we even know what floor we're going to?" I asked suddenly. The rude woman at the desk had conviently forgotten to mention it to us, and I had to idea where to begin.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and pointed deliberately at the sign behind me listing all the floors and what rooms were on them. My eyes scanned over the list: Floor 1-Rooms 1-100, Floor 2-Rooms 101-200, all the way up to the highest level.

Floor 10-Rooms 1000-1099.

"Brilliant!" I exclaimed, excitedly punching the tenth button.

"What in the world could you possibly be excited about in the situation that we are so wonderfully stuck in?" Hermione asked sarcastically, leaning back onto the elevator wall, bumping her head almost purposefully on the wood behind her.

"Before you give yourself a concussion, maybe you should hear my reasoning." I declared, ignoring the annoyed expression on her face. "First, we'll be staying in a suite, where there will obviously be separate bedrooms." At this, I saw a look of clarity go over her face as if she should have known that the entire time. "Second, we're in Paris for Merlin's sake! And third, we're on the top floor which will hopefully have a view." At that moment, the ascending stopped with a beep while the doors slid open once again.

~ Hermione's Point Of View~

As we made our way down the hallway, I was feeling extremely stupid. Why in the world didn't I think of the fact that there would be more than one bed in that room? With my encyclopedic knowledge, you would think that I of all people would register the word 'suite'. But no...all I know is that as soon as that lady spat out those dreadful words...'with Ronald Weasley'...I got this very uncomfortable feeling. Hot... and fluttery... and strangely exciting...of course, not in a good way.

"Anytime now, Hermione," Ron shook me out of my musings by holding the door to our room open. He looked like he'd been like that for some time.

"Oh, right." I hastily picked up my bags and clumsily pulled them in behind me. As I hauled them past the door frame, the wheels from the large suitcase holding my books paused briefly, unable to go over the threshold. With a determined yank, I succeeded in finally getting it into the room.

Ron was still holding the door open, witnessing the entire episode. "You have it there?" he asked, a slight grin on his face.

I nodded and continued past him. That is, until-

He put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me in the room. It almost seemed like he wasn't aware of what he was doing, but I definitely was. I felt my muscles tense and goosebumps rise on my arms. This reminded me of something that I couldn't quite remember. Maybe it was something like-

Then it hit me.

Hogwarts. It reminded me of our last couple of years of Hogwarts when Ron began to act so strangely. I remember that he would always touch me like that whenever he got the chance. We were still friends then. But then, things changed, and I didn't think that he had any right to be touching me like that now.

Hastily, I sped up my pace, blowing past a surprised Ron. The door clicked shut behind me, and I knew that neither of us knew what to say next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

A/N: I want to thank every single person who has read and reviewed this fic. There are many more chapters to come, and it would inspire me to keep writing if you would review. It has been so much fun so far to hear what people think about this. I WILL accept flames if necessary, lol. So, please review!

Thanks :)