Ron Weasley watched Hermione Granger eat dinner as if it was the first time he had ever properly looked at her. He couldn't believe that after all these years the two of them had been friends he had managed to miss the simple fact of how insanely hot she was. The way her hair flowed down past her shoulders… the way her forehead creased when she was on the way to answering a particularly challenging question… The way her shirts were beginning to fill out nicely, wrapped around her body in just the right way…

"RON!" hissed the seemingly always-angry Molly Weasley as she entered the kitchen holding a bit of laundry. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times! You need to clean yourself properly! The color brown should not be on your gray boxers!"

Fred and George burst into fits of laughter, Ginny giggled and dived under the table, Hermione choked on her piece of roast beef and quickly took a drink of pumpkin juice, and Ron felt his heart plunge somewhere around his navel as he shook off the pleasant thoughts he was having.

"Yeah, thanks, mum!" Ron shouted, his face steadily turning the color of his hair. He rested his chin on his palm as he poked his food with his fork, suddenly losing any hint of an appetite.

Fred and George began pounding the table, doubling over and crying. Suddenly, Sirius' mother began shrieking as usual, woken by the sudden uproar. Ron was nearly too embarrassed to breathe. He stole another look at Hermione and saw her hiding safely behind the Daily Prophet, which she had propped up against her glass of juice.

"Well, I see the laundry's done!" said Sirius with a grin as he entered the kitchen, having just silenced his mother for the umpteenth time. Ron's face continued to redden "How is the roast beef, Hermione?"

"Very good," Hermione said, causing Sirius to grab a plate of his own

"Good dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she entered the kitchen again. "Now Ron, tomorrow you and Hermione are going to exterminate lord-knows-what in the empty room on the second floor."

"You expect Hermione and I to do that by ourselves?" Ron asked.

"Only for a while, dear. I expect Harry will be arriving tomorrow afternoon."

Ron, who had been entirely wrapped up in how Hermione had developed, completely forgot that Harry was finally coming to stay with them. He had to say he wasn't looking forward to it, as Harry was most likely going to be furious about the lack of information he had been given over the summer. He let out a sigh and continued to poke his food.

"Oh, I do hope he isn't too angry," said Hermione, sounding slightly worried.

"I would be if I were him," said George, his fit of laughter having subsided.

"Well, we'll just have to make him feel as comfortable as possible," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes, as long as you don't mention any brown stains on his boxers, he should be fine," said Fred, causing another upheaval of laughter.

Ron stood up quickly and turned for the door. He saw Hermione was the only one not laughing, but instead was looking at him as though she felt sorry for him. He turned and didn't bother to look back as he left, determined to go up to his room and toss himself out the window. How could his summer be going so horribly wrong? All he wanted was for Hermione to actually notice him, and it seemed that would never happen… Not in a good way at least…

How could his mother be so thick as to shout something like that for the whole world to hear? And now, Harry was going to be arriving before Ron would have the chance to try and break the ice with Hermione again. He closed his door behind him when he got to his room and tossed himself down on his bed. The one comfort he had was that for tonight at least, he would have the room to himself, alone to contemplate his next attempt to shove himself into Hermione's heart.

"That must have been painful," said a voice from the empty picture on the wall. "Oh yes, I heard it all the way up here… Nasty little tidbit, I'd say."

Ron rolled over on his side as he heard someone climbing the stairs and going into a nearby room – no doubt Hermione going to Ginny's room, where she had been sleeping for a few weeks now. Ron pounded his pillow with a closed fist before allowing sleep to take hold.

Ron woke up the next morning and headed down to the kitchen, hoping upon hope today would be better than last night had been. Hermione was already at the table, sitting with a cup of coffee in front of her. Ron smiled to himself, noticing how perfectly the sunlight creeping through the window illuminated her hair. He made himself a plate and sat down next to her and pretended to read the Daily Prophet.

"Hi Ginny!" Hermione said. The youngest Weasley sat down across from them, a slightly disgruntled look on her face.

"Morning," she said stiffly.

"What's wrong?" Hermione said instantly. Ginny stole a glance at Ron, who was having a particularly hard time swallowing a bit of bacon, then shook her head.

"Nothing," Ginny said, tucking in. "Nothing important."

"Does it have to do with you-know-who?" Hermione said seriously.

"WHAT?" Ron shouted through his bacon. "What could Ginny possibly have to do with You-Know-Who? You're not being possessed again, are you?" he said worriedly.

"Not YOU-KNOW-WHO," Hermione said exasperatedly. "You-know-who…"

"Who?" Ron said.

"It's nothing," Ginny said firmly, taking another bite of her food. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Hermione grabbed his leg under the table, telling him to drop it. Having her hand on his leg was enough to convince him to jump in front of a moving bus, so of course, he complied.

"What are you two doing today?" Ginny asked

"Exterminating something for mum," said Ron dully.

"Ha," Ginny said. "I don't envy you."

"Yeah, me neither," said Ron. "We have no idea what we're up against."

"And then what are you going to do? Mum's little extermination can't take up all day, can it?"

"We'll be studying," answered Hermione.

"What?" asked Ron. In the back of his mind, the first word that he thought of was 'snogging.' "What is there to study? We're still on holiday!"

"Ron, fifth year is our O.W.L. year. We can never study enough," Hermione said brightly.

"She's got a point, you know," said Fred as he and George entered the room.

"If we'd have studied, we would have gotten say," said George.

"Nine?" said Fred

"Yes, Nine sounds good." said George with a nod.

"Nine OWLS," said Fred, grabbing a plate for himself.

"Nine combined, that is," said George with a grin.

"And I wish you would have studied," said Mrs. Weasley. "The pair of you might have done something worthwhile."

"Oh, don't worry, Mum… There's still time for us to do something worthwhile," said George with a grin.

"And that is exactly what has me worried." Mrs. Weasley replied.

"When is dad getting home?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, there's no telling, dear. The Ministry has been working him really hard lately."

"Isn't he going to get Harry today?" George asked, bewitching a bit of his bacon to fly across the room and hit a passing Kreacher in the back of the head, causing Hermione to gasp in frustration.

"No, of course not," Mrs. Weasley said. "Dumbledore has hand picked his escorts."

Just then, Sirius walked in yawning and stretching, his usually unkempt hair even more unkempt.

"Smells great, Molly," he said, sitting down next to Fred.

"Ok, you two," Mrs. Weasley said to Ron and Hermione, "let's go tackle whatever is in that room."

"Which room?" Sirius asked, spreading some butter on a slice of bread.

"The one on the second landing, just before the attic staircase," Mrs. Weasley answered.

"Good luck with that one. I've been trying to get that room in living condition for weeks."

With that statement, Ron knew that it was going to be a very long day indeed.

The extermination in the second floor room was a disaster for the most part. No matter what they tried, the creatures that had gained a firm foot hold on the house refused to budge, and around midday, when none of Gilderoy Lockhart's books contained an answer, Mrs. Weasley gave it up as useless.

After grabbing Hermione's books from Ginny's room, Ron and Hermione retreated to the room in which Ron was staying. As they went, Ron couldn't help but notice that Hermione's entire body was glistening. She was wearing a particularly low-cut shirt, and small drops of sweat were trickling down from her bushy hair, looking for a final resting place. He felt his pulse beginning to quicken, and turned his head away.

"So," she said, wiping the sweat off her neck slowly. "Where do you want to start? I thought we could work on transfiguration first, seeing as the teachers will undoubtedly be pushing us hard this year."

"If that's the case, we should start with potions," said Ron, bending down and reaching into his trunk for his potions book.

"That is true. Snape is undoubtedly going to be particularly cruel this year."

Ron watched as Hermione bent down to grab her potions book, unknowingly showing a fair amount more than she bargained for. Just then, the door opened and Ginny walked in.

"Why are you looking down Hermione's shirt?" she asked calmly.

Hermione stood up quickly, and pushed her shirt to her upper body, looking as thought she had just been severely violated.

"I wasn't… I only… They…" Ron stammered. "EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING?" he shouted, glaring at Ginny.

"This isn't technically your room, so I don't have to knock." Ginny said as she sat down on the foot of Ron's bed.

"Then I'll just come barging into where you're sleeping. How about that?" Ron said.

"I don't think I would like that," Hermione said, her brow furrowed and her hand still clutching her shirt tightly against her chest.

Ron felt as though he had just been smashed full in the face by a hammer. He turned and sat down on his bed, opened his potions book, and pretended to read as if it was the only thing he cared about in the world.

Night crept upon them, and after several more hours of studying, Hermione and Ron went downstairs to grab a bite. The two of them had been relatively quiet towards each other, only talking about the subject matter. Ron had a feeling that Hermione, though having long since returned to her normal self, still held some reservations about him, as if he was constantly looking down her shirt.

They walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, where Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Sirius were talking frantically.

"No, that's not good enough. If we want someone watching it, we're going to have to do it in a way that no one notices." Mr. Weasley said.

"How are we supposed to do that?" Sirius asked, running has hand along his chin.

"Do what?" Ron asked. The three of them looked up and saw Hermione and Ron for the first time.

"Nothing," Mr. Weasley said evasively. "Nothing."

Ron and Hermione sat down at the table, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to bring the food in. Just then the doorbell rang and Sirius' mother began to wail once more.

"BLOOD TRAITERS! FILTHY VERMIN!"

Sirius ran out of the room to tend to the painting, and Mrs. Weasley walked in empty handed.

"You two, up to your room," she said quickly.

"But mum, we're starving!" Ron objected.

"Dinner will have to wait until after the meeting," Mrs. Weasley persisted.

"Meeting? The Order is having a meeting tonight?" Fred said as he and George entered. "Excellent!"

"Yes, The Order is having a meeting tonight, and as you are not members of the Order, you cannot attend," she said, steering them back out the door into the hall. She turned back to Hermione and Ron. "You two, come on."

Begrudgingly, Ron stood and led the way out the door. The two of them climbed back up the stairs, Mrs. Weasley hot on their heels, and went into Ron's room. Mrs. Weasley closed the door firmly behind them, and Ron sat down on his bed.

"I wonder what the meeting is going to be about tonight," Hermione said, crossing her arms and sitting on the bed that was going to be occupied by Harry.

"No clue. I'll bet it is important, though." Ron said.

The two of them fell into an uncomfortable silence. Ron glanced up at Hermione and was surprised to see her staring at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Why were you looking down my shirt?" she said. It was just like Hermione to get straight to the point.

"I wasn't doing it on purpose!" he shouted. "You bent over and my eyes sort of went there automatically." He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. He looked up and saw that Hermione was still looking at him.

"That's it, is it?" she asked.

"Oh come on, Hermione! They're not exactly hard to notice," Ron said, his face going very red. Hermione blushed slightly and smiled, and the two of them returned to their silence, though not as cold as the silence before.

Suddenly, the door opened and Mrs. Weasley walked in carrying the laundry. Ron looked at the top of the pile and saw a pair of gray underwear. Hermione turned her head away, as if the sight of them would send her into a fit of laughter.

"Put these away quickly, dear, I expect Harry will be here soon," Mrs. Weasley said. Ron stood up and walked over to the pile. He looked down, and his eyes widened.

"Hey!" He shouted. Mrs. Weasley turned. "These aren't mine!" he said, handing her the gray boxers.

"Oh, sorry dear, these are your fathers'," with a smile, she took the boxers and left the room. As soon as the door closed, both Hermione and Ron burst into laughter. The soiled-looking boxers hadn't been his at all, and it all seemed very funny now.

The door opened again, and Mrs. Weasley poked her head in.

"SHHHH! You're going to wake that dreadful picture up again!" She opened the door a little wider, and Harry Potter stepped in. In a flash, Hermione dived across the room and flung herself around Harry's neck. Ron, although happy to see his best friend, couldn't help but want to curse him several thousand ways.