CHAPTER TWO: The Swimming Lesson

It was almost ten when Ron rolled over in bed and dared to crack open one eye to look at the clock on his nightstand. On a normal day, he would have rolled right back over and shut his eyes again, trying to grab as much extra sleep as he could. But Harry hadn't felt like staying up late the night before, and the two boys had been in their beds shortly before midnight.

Harry was still curled up in his bed facing the wall, while Ron, as quietly as he could, crossed the room and headed downstairs.

When he reached the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe and silently watched the only occupant inside make breakfast. Actually, attempt might have been a better word to describe Hermione make tea and toast. The tea part seemed to be going all right, but she was spending so preoccupied with that she forgot about the toast. The smell of burnt toast filled his nostrils, and it seemed to grab Hermione's attention also for she promptly pushed the release button on the toast. Two blackened pieces of bread shot up.

"Damn," she muttered in annoyance, throwing the ruined pieces in the sink.

"Could you say that again? I didn't quite catch that."

She spun around to find Ron standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear. Of course it would have to be him of all people catching her momentary lapse in appropriate language. All the times she had chided him for his cursing, he wasn't likely to let her forget this moment.

"That was quite a 'damn'," he said in admiration.

"You would have said the same if it had been your breakfast that was ruined," she said in her defense.

Ron walked around to the toaster and put in two fresh pieces of bread. "I suppose I'll just have to show you how it's done," he said smugly.

Instead of letting him goad her further, she sat down at the table with her mug of tea in hand. "You're up early," she remarked.

"You're up late," he shot back.

"I stayed up to finish my Arithmancy essay," she said, looking down at her tea as she spoke.

He could have very easily teased her about that, but he decided against it. It seemed like she was finally over the Krum thing and he wasn't in a hurry to have her stop talking to him again.

She regarded him curiously. "What, no snide remarks about staying up late during the summer holidays to finish homework?"

Was she testing him? "I don't always have to tease you," he told her. He reached over and popped up the toast in the toaster. "Toasted to perfection," he said, and handed them to her on a plate.

She picked up a piece and began spreading marmalade over it. "How's Harry?"

"Still sleeping, I think. We didn't talk much last night." There it was again. He didn't know why but every time she brought Harry up, it bothered him somewhat. He knew it shouldn't, but they seemed to talk about him so often – or rather Hermione brought him up so often – he was starting to wonder if she fancied him or something. Yesterday at the Dursley's, he had watched her hug Harry, and to him it seemed to last a bit longer then other hugs she had given him in the past. If he allowed himself to admit it, perhaps he had been even a bit jealous.

"Maybe he'll feel better when we go into Diagon Alley today," she said brightly.

Ron shrugged again, but made no reply. He decided he was definitely reading too much into it. There was no way Hermione fancied Harry. Changing the subject he said, "so are you finally going to come swimming with me today?" So far, she had used every possible excuse since summer vacation had started to avoid going down to this small river that was about a ten minute walk away.

"No," she answered, before reaching for a copy of the Daily Prophet and reading the front page.

It was an act. He could see that her eyes weren't even skimming the page. She was jut hoping he would quit and leave it at that. "Are you really that scared I'm going to drown you or do some other horrible thing to you?"

"That's not it," she said, and her tone suggested that he should drop the subject if he knew what was good for him, but Ron rarely ever did what was good for him where she was concerned.

"What is it, then? I mean, we've got plenty of time because we weren't planning on going to Diagon Alley 'til after lunch anyways."

She mumbled some incoherent response and continued staring down at the paper.

"What did you say?" He asked, leaning in closer.

"I said I can't swim!" She all but shouted at him. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment when she realized how loud she had spoken. Ron tried, and failed to suppress a grin, making the situation worse. "See, this is why I didn't tell you. You think it's funny."

"I just think it's funny that for once you have something to learn from me, instead of it being the other way around."

When she realized he was serious, she quickly put an end to his delusions. "Ron, you are not teaching me to swim."

"Come on, it would be fun."

"Fun for you," she corrected. "Humiliating for me."

"How about we make a deal? You let me teach you the finer points of swimming, and I'll start on my Transfiguration essay today, instead of on the train back to school like I was planning."

She should have said no, and that way at least retain some of her dignity. On the other hand, she had never backed down from a challenge before – and Ron had played right into that. "Fine, we have a deal," she said to him, already regretting she had agreed to this ridiculous idea, even more so when she saw the lopsided grin form on Ron's face. Just what exactly had she gotten herself into?

Exactly one hour later, they were dressed in their swimming gear underneath their regular clothes and standing at the edge of the small river. The whole walk over Ron had continued to think that this was a fantastic idea. He had discovered there was one thing Hermione couldn't do at all, and she was allowing herself to get help from him. He wasn't going to rub it in her face, but was glad that there was at least one thing a book couldn't teach her. Those were his thoughts up until the point where they started getting undressed to go into the water. Suddenly he wasn't so sure it was a good idea for them to be alone together. She was wearing a bathing suit Ginny had been given a few years ago, but it had been too big for her to wear. Ron was forever thankful his sister had not worn it because it would have ruined the mental picture he was taking of Hermione in it. He really didn't mean to ogle her like that, and he couldn't even believe he was admitting to himself that he was doing just that, but he couldn't help himself. He would have to have been blind not to notice the way she had filled out in certain areas. Then again, she was his best friend – he wasn't supposed to be noticing those kinds of things.

Before his staring became too noticeable (it was probably already too late for that) he ran into the cold water, and swam out to the part that was just deep enough so he could tread water without hitting his feet on the bottom. This was much better. He really needed to cool off. Pushing the hair back that had fallen in his eyes, he saw her at the edge of the water, testing it with one foot before jumping back.

"Are you coming in or not?" He called to her.

"It's freezing!" She exclaimed.

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Were you expecting it to be heated, just for you?" She shot him a glowering look and he pressed his advantage. "If you're too scared – "

As he had predicted, that was all it took for her to put aside whatever misgivings she was having and join him in the water.

He moved in closer so they were in shallower water and Hermione could stand in it. He being about half a foot taller, the water covered to a few inches above his waist.

"First things first," he said to her, "I'm going to teach you how to tread water." He was already moving back into the deeper water as he spoke. Hermione was looking extremely skeptical about this, so he extended his arm out to her. "Just take my hand and I promise I won't dunk your head under water – yet," he said, his face widening in a lopsided grin.

She threw him a look that said he would deeply regret it later if he even attempted it, but she took his outstretched hand all the same. As he started moving her into deeper waters where she could no longer see the bottom, she had to keep reminding herself that she trusted Ron and he wouldn't do anything that would put her in danger.

"Treading water is like riding that cycle thing muggles use," he told her.

"Bicycle," she corrected.

"Just tilt your head back a bit and start moving your legs," he told her, ignoring her correction. "Like this." He briefly demonstrated the technique and then said, "you think you've got it?"

She nodded. This was easy compared to some of the things she had to learn when she first started skiing, which she still wasn't very good at. She followed Ron's instructions, and in no time he was letting go of her hand and she was treading water on her own.

"Not bad," he complimented. "You're picking this up a lot faster then I did."

"Who taught you?" She asked, slightly out of breath from the exertion.

"Charlie," he answered. "But it wasn't really teaching so much as it was throwing me in the water and seeing if I'd come back up."

"Ron!" She found herself, trying to stifle her laughter at the thought.

"I think it must have been a lesson in survival of the fittest or something."

She was wondering if he was pulling her leg, trying to get a rise out of her, but then again it did seem entirely plausible that Charlie would do that to his youngest brother. She was sure Ron had left out the part where he had been right there in case anything happened.

"Are your legs tired yet?"

"I'm fine," she told him. The truth was her legs were beginning to feel like rubber, but she could handle it.

His expression showed that he didn't believe her. "This is your first time, so we should probably take it easy."

"Ron, I can do this, okay? I'm fine," she said, her tone firm. She probably should have listened to him. Her legs were beginning to cramp up.

He scowled. "Dammit, why do you have to be so bloody stubborn?"

That was when her legs gave out beneath her and she went under. Water was all around her, trapping her as she flailed her arms in an attempt to get back to the surface. Before the full force of panic and fear could set in, she felt herself being pulled up. She spit out the mouthful of water she had nearly swallowed and coughed several times. It took nearly a full minute before she was finally able to catch her breath.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded because for some reason she couldn't seem to find her voice. She had been so focused on being able to breathe again, it wasn't until that moment she noticed the position she and Ron were in. His arms were holding onto her waist and her arms were wrapped around his neck. They were extremely close, so close that she could feel his breath on her face every time he breathed. They had never been this close before. She studied his cobalt eyes, seeing the concern playing across them. "Thanks," she said, almost surprised to hear herself talking. The gentleness and concern that had been in his eyes a moment before, melted away. Now, they were blazing with anger.

"I know you have to be the bloody-well best at everything but that was just stupid," he snapped at her.

"Ron, I'm sorry," she apologized.

That did little to calm him. "What's wrong with you? I wouldn't have thought any less of you if you had just admitted you were tired."

She had not seen him like this before. She thought he was more upset with her now then he had ever been in the past, but it had little to with anger. He was concerned for her, and it was affecting her more than she thought it would.

"We should go back," he growled, looking away from her.

That was when she did something completely unexpected that surprised even herself. She removed one hand from around his neck and touched his cheek with it. That was enough to bring Ron's head back around without any further prodding.

"I'm really sorry." Even as she was saying it, she felt one hand move from her waist up to her back. The palm of his hand started drawing circle patterns on her back, and she let her eyes flutter shut. It didn't seem to matter that it was Ron who was touching her. Ron, her best friend. Ron, who had helped save her from a troll when they were eleven. Ron, who was making her feel this good. It was all new to her. He was causing feelings to stir in her that she had long since kept hidden.

"Hermione," he breathed.

She dared to open her eyes and forced herself to look straight at him. The fury in his eyes was gone, but she couldn't read the expression on his face. He was looking at her in a way he never had before. She was waiting for him to say something – anything – to break the silence. She saw him look at her mouth and then his gaze dart back up to her eyes. Time seemed to tick by ever so slowly, with just the two of them wading alone in the water. When she caught Ron looking at her mouth again, her mind finally seemed to comprehend what was happening.

Then something happened that caused Ron's whole attitude to change. He cleared his throat in a nervous gesture, saying, "we should probably head back now."

She barely managed a nod of her head, as she felt Ron's hands slip from around her waist as he guided them both back to the shore. They dried off in silence, which was perfectly fine with Hermione. She didn't think she would have been able to speak to Ron at the moment if her life depended on it. But the silence that accompanied them on their walk back to Grimmauld Place, was the most awkward and uncomfortable she had ever experienced in her life. She could say with certainty it was a swimming lesson she wouldn't soon forget.