The room that spread out in front of him, was exactly how Harry always pictured it would be. From a golden chandelier, that hung above them in the ceiling's alcove, poured rays of pure sunlight, which danced over the tan walls, seeped into the brass coat hanger that stood solemnly by the door, and played across the hard wood floor glistening with life and wisdom. All this light spilled out from the antechamber onto a convivial den. There a witch fire blazed in the hearth, as if it had been expecting them all theses years.

Tentatively Harry took a step forward and as he crossed the threshold, into his parents' house, he felt the weight of all these years wash from him.

"Finally," Ron breathed a sigh of relief, ruining Harry's moment, "warmth and relaxation." Pushing past Harry he crossed over to a sofa positioned in front of the fire, dropped his bags, and sat down.

Hermione came in next, closing the down behind her and shutting out the storm. "Ron, your dripping allover the floor!"

"Yeah so?"

Harry watched as Ron struggled out of the wet, oversized sweater his mom had made him and dropped it on the couch beside him. It was already obvious to Harry, that the spot where the sweater lay would be forever discolored. "Ron…"

"What!" The redhead's reply echoed through the room, booming with displeasure.

"Never mind." Harry's blood began to boil; he was far from fed up with Ron's little 'attitude problem'.

It seemed that Ron's last strings had been twanged as well, for he pulled himself to his feet and turned to face Harry, his eyes livid. "No Harry, what is it? What do you have to say… wonder boy!"

"It's only that you've been here less than a minute, and are already turning it into the junk pile that is the Burrow!" In those few words of rage, Harry had damned all that was sacred in a friendship. He could tell by the instant drop in Ron's eyes that he had gone too far.

Angry with Ron, and even angrier with himself, Harry stormed out of the foyer through a door that adjoined the rest of the house.

…………………………………………….

Hermione was left staring at the swinging door which Harry had retreated through, stunned. The argument had exceeded so fast there was nothing she could have done, and now it was too late. She glanced at Ron shyly, through the corner of her eye; his head was hung low depleted of all anger with only sorrow and discontent left in its wake.

"Ron." She began shakily. Not even looking up Ron slumped back onto the couch, unresponsive. "Ron, maybe… maybe you shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah take his side, why don't you." He spat bitterly, but Hermione could hear his heart breaking through his words.

Slowly she rounded the couch so she stood in front of him, and took his hand in her own. Instead of him accepting her sympathy though, he snatched his hand back and looked up at her tears in his eyes. "Why are you doing this Hermione? You don't care about me, I'm nothing."

These words shocked her, she had never heard such foolishness before; of course she cared about him, she even more than cared about him, so what was he talking about. "I… do care about you."

"Yeah right." He shrugged away gloomily, pushing his sweater off the sofa so it landed with a splat on the floor. "You're too busy caring about Harry to even think about me. He is the one who's going to save the wizarding world, and I'm just a lackey."

"What are you talking about, Ron?" Hermione leaned in towards him, forcing him to look at her his eyes brimming with tears. "You're not just a lackey."

"Don't even play with me Hermione. I heard you and Harry in the cab." He stood up pushing her back with the force of his words. "I thought you knew how I felt about you Hermione, and I thought you cared the same way. But you and Harry in the car…"

Before he could get out another word, Hermione had him ensnared in a kiss, her lips moist from the rain pouring into his own the feelings he had for so long suppressed. He could feel the relief surge through him as their tongues touched and she let a soft moan escape from the back of her throat. The kiss only lasted a moment, but when they pulled apart he could still taste the sweetness of her lips and the pressure of her body against him, leaving him wanting more.

"Ron, Harry and me will never be more than just friends." Hermione stated breathlessly, "But you and I…"

He reached for her and she fell into his arms again as unspoken words rattled through their brains. There in the house that was to begin a new chapter, they started their own something; a flame of passion and love that kindled brightly as they kissed once more, never wanting to let go.