Author's Note: Hey, I know this is listed under Ron/Hermione romance and I'm sorry if the first chapter set you off. But I promise this chapter will change that. I am disappointed in the lack of reviews from last chapter. I really want to know how I'm doing here! lol. Please, please, please review!

Disclaimer: Yeah, I own only the plotline. So sue me. But, ha, now you can't:P

Chapter 3: Arrivals and Tension. (Just a bit)

She arrived at the Burrow, tumbling out of the fireplace into the family room. Coughing, she started to brush the soot off of her jeans. She was still facing the fireplace, so when she turned around to face the room, she felt her face flush a brilliant red as she saw who occupied the room.

Fluer was sitting on the couch surrounded by scatterings of Witch Weddings magazine clippings, newspaper articles, wedding planning books – Fluer can read? Hermione thought in spite of herself. - And the Weasleys. Fred, George, Bill, Mrs.Weasley, Arthur, Charlie, Ginny, Ron and even Gabrielle. They were all string at her, a few of them smiling, looking as if they were waiting for something amazing to happen. Fluer on the other hand, looked absolutely furious. Her usually pale face turned a violent shade of russet and her eyes bore into Hermione's as if wanting to burn the very flesh of her bones. Hermione tore her gaze away from Fluer, without much effort and said, "Well, hel-"

"MY PHOTGRAPHZ!" interrupted Fluer absolutely trembling with anger.

"What?" Hermione said jerking her head around.

"I'VE BEEN LAYING ZESE OU' PERFE'TLY ALL ZE DAY LONG!"

"Oh?" Hermione responded completely unaware of what was happening. She turned around for some help from Ginny who just bowed her head and stared to rub her temples. This was what they were waiting for- the Perfect Storm.

Fluer, seemingly overflowing with enragement stood up and shoved a photo in Hermione's face. "Do you zee what you've done now?" Fluer's voice was low and hateful. Her face was contorted and the flush in her cheeks and the bulging of her eyes made her seem as much a veela as a mule.

Hermione went to take the photograph out of Fluers hand but she yanked it away. "Don't touch!" Looking closely, Hermione noticed that it was a photo of a girl in a silver bridesmaids dress. She only could just make it out because the photo was covered in soot. "I'm sorry, Fluer, you know I didn't mean it." Fluer looked disgusted with Hermione's excuse. "There are no excuzes!" Apparently, she was. "Fluer- it's laminated. Can't you just…wash it off?" The flush melted right off of her face and she was now more pale than ever. "Wash-wash eet off? WASH IT OFF!" Now, she was back to looking like an oversized tomato. She started to go into a rampage about all the work she had to do, just because she was the bride. Hermione started as she felt a hand surround her forearm.

"Let's get out of here while we still can." A voice whispered into her ear. Hermione smiled inwardly-she'd know that voice anywhere. "Great idea, Ron." They slowly backed away as to go upstairs unnoticed. Hermione bent down for her suitcase, but it wasn't where she left it. Not daring to move her head, her peripheral vision noticed that Ron had it in his left hand. Such a gentlemen. "Hurry up, Hermione, she's bound to notice us sometime. Don't be such a snail." Well, sometimes. "Shut up Ronald." That wasn't a whisper and Fluer noticed it as well as Hermione. "Run." Ron said. Well, at least he has some sense in him.

They scrambled up he stairs, Ron being a little slower than Hermione as he had her trunk. "Where to?" Hermione said, not turning around when reaching the top. "My room." Ron responded. Second door on the right. Hermione entered to find nothing at all unchanged. Same orange paint, same four-poster bed, same messy floor and unmade bed. Hermione turned around to her best friend's panting to make a snide comment about his laziness, but was stopped in her tracks. This is the first time she's looked at Ron properly since she came. His appearance changed dramatically since her last seeing him. He looked slightly drawn, maybe even ill, but he still looked as handsome as ever. Leaving out the troubling things about his new appearance, he looked rather dashing. Despite the paleness and tiredness of his face and eyes (rolling uncontrollably), he looked determined-like he was really pumping himself up for this Death-Eater murdering they had to endure rather soon.

(Or the death of himself.)

He smiled at her (and his teeth started to rot and decay) and she smiled back. "Anything wrong, 'Mione?" Hermione shook herself lightly. "No, why do you ask?"

"You look a bit…troubled."

"I'm fine, Ron."

"You sure?" he added unnecessarily. Hermione didn't care how unnecessary it was, though. It was sweet.

"I have to be." She said, and before he could say another word gave him a hug and a quick peck on the cheek and asked him how his summer has been going.