Chapter 23

Hermione was seated on the sofa in the drawing room, her nose buried in a book, when he found her. Typical, Ron thought, staring down at her, waiting to see if she would acknowledge him. Always hiding behind those books. You'd think she'd remember to turn the page once and a while.

"This arrived for you at the Ministry this morning," Ron said, holding out the envelope his father had given him for her to take.

"I told you he'd keep writing," Hermione replied, as she glanced up and spotted the letter in his outstretched hand. "Looks like you have two of them to read now," she added, as she focused her attention on the book once more.

"It isn't from him," Ron said, catching her by surprise and despite the decision she made when he entered the room, Hermione found herself looking up into his captivating blue eyes. "It's from Neville," he added, with an air she couldn't decipher.

"Oh," Hermione replied, reaching out to take the unexpected letter even though she wasn't entirely sure she wanted it. She didn't want to read the condolences sent to her by strangers. Did she want to read them if they were sent to her by classmates? She hadn't minded when it was Harry. But Harry was different and his letters had actually been helpful. He'd been only too happy to give her advice on how to deal with her new found fame. After his initial, "welcome to my world" jokes. But Neville? He'd never written to her over the summer and she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Hermione unintentionally brushed Ron's fingers as her hand closed on the letter. She expected him to let go, but he didn't. For a moment they just stood there with their hands extended, staring at one another, then without warning he pulled away. Hermione noted the calm expression on his face as he continued to watch her, but it seemed a bit forced.

"Is there something else?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," Ron said, "I was just wondering if... well, you said I could borrow your transfiguration book. You know, because I don't have mine anymore. So can I? Borrow it, I mean?"

"You want to borrow my transfiguration book?" Hermione asked, shooting him an odd look of her own. "Now?"

"That's what I said isn't it?" he shot back. "Look if it's a problem, I'll..."

"No," she interrupted. "It isn't a problem. It's in my trunk. I'll go get it for..."

"I'll get it," Ron said, turning around and making for the door. "Don't worry, I'll return it as soon as I'm done," he added.

"No hurry," Hermione shouted after his retreating form.

....................

It took Ginny less then two minutes to make an appearance. She had obviously been in their bedroom when her brother barged in and she didn't look very happy about it.

"Did you know Ron is going through your trunk?" she asked. "He said you did, but..."

"It's ok," Hermione assured her. "I told him he could. He's only after my transfiguration book."

"Are you sure that's all he's after?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione as if she were daft.

"He packed my trunk, remember?" she replied. "If he wanted to snoop though my things, he would have done it then."

"He probably did," Ginny muttered under her breath, as she sat down on the sofa. "He didn't actually read it, did he?" she asked, noticing the letter in Hermione's hand.

"What?" Hermione replied, lost in thought. "Oh, no. He just brought me this one. It's from... Neville."

"Oh," Ginny replied, sounding slightly disappointed. For a minute there, she thought she might have gotten through to him after all. "So, what did Neville have to say?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied, opening the envelope and removing the letter. "I haven't read it yet," she added, taking a moment to look it over. "Pretty much what you'd expect," she said, handing it to Ginny. "He's sorry for what happened. He hopes I feel better."

"He's worried about you," Ginny said, skimming the letter herself.

"It's probably a bit unnerving for him. You know, because I was tortured by the same woman who tortured his parents until..."

"Yeah," Ginny interrupted, not needing her to finish. "She used it on him too. I suppose he can understand what you went through better then the rest of us, having experienced it himself and all." Then as if she suddenly realized what she was talking about, Ginny shut her mouth and looked at Hermione anxiously. "Sorry," she added, somewhat guiltily.

"It's alright," Hermione said, giving her redheaded friend a weak smile. "I don't mind talking about it. You can ask me."

"I asked Fred and George, but the wouldn't tell me anything."

"I would have thought you'd go to Ron first."

"I did," Ginny admitted, "but... he wouldn't tell me anything either. He got all protective and told me I better not bother you about it."

"You're not bothering me," she replied. The look on Ginny's face, made it plain that she didn't believe her, so Hermione continued, "No, really, it's ok."

"Did... did they really... well... I sort of overheard Bill talking to Fred and George," Ginny confessed. "Did they really use the Cruciatus Curse on you 10 times?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied honestly. "I didn't exactly keep count. But that sounds about right."

"How... I mean... it must have been awful. How did you... how could you stand it?"

"It wasn't like I had much of a choice," Hermione said, closing her book and setting it on the floor. "I know this might seem odd, but it was... Pettigrew," she admitted.

"What? He didn't..."

"No, he helped me without realizing it," she replied. "He reminded me what I was fighting for. And I'd rather die than become anything like him."

"Did... did you really try and goad her into killing you?" Ginny asked, unable to contain herself now that someone was actually talking to her about it.

"Yeah," Hermione admitted, smiling at her friend despite their morbid conversation. "You do pick up a lot don't you?" she chuckled softly. "Heard that from Bill too, I suppose? Well, it's true. I called her a few choice names which I won't repeat."

"Weren't you ...afraid to die?" Ginny pressed.

"Not the way you mean," Hermione replied, instantly becoming serious again. "I was afraid of what it would do to Harry and Ron though," she said softly as her eyes glassed over.

"It was awful," Ginny said quietly. "When Mum revived him and he realized where he was. He went after Fred," she continued, trying to forget the murderous look her brother had in his eyes and how he had launched himself over the kitchen table to get at the twins. "Bill and Dad had to hold him back. Then he sort of just crumpled to the floor."

She cut off abruptly when Hermione covered her face with both hands and choked back a sob.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said, wiping away her own tears before they could fall. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I knew it would be bad," Hermione admitted. "But it's still hard to hear."

"He didn't tell you?"

"He did," she replied, "As much as he could. It's not easy for him to talk about how it made him feel though," she continued. "You know Ron. He isn't so good with his own feelings. He encouraged me to talk about it, and helped me deal with my feelings. He just avoids discussing his own. He wants to push it aside and try and forget it happened, so I don't press him."

"It isn't something he'll ever forget," Ginny said.

"I know," Hermione admitted. "But he's happier not talking about it."

"He really cares about you," Ginny said. "We could all see it. He was devastated."

"Do you think I am being too hard on him?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling very guilty for giving him the cold shoulder.

"About this whole Krum thing?" Ginny replied. "If you had asked me that 15 minutes ago I would have said no, but honestly... I don't know. I think... you should probably try talking to him again."

"He doesn't listen. Not when it comes to Viktor."

"I reckon he listens more than you think."

....................

This is a bloody waste of time, Ron thought, as he stared down at the open book sitting on the desk in front of him. At this rate it will take me all summer, he lamented. In the 20 minutes that he'd been at it, his name and the title of the essay were all he'd managed to write on his sheet of parchment. Two bloody feet? Even if I write really big, it's going to take forever. I wish Harry was here. At least then I'd have someone to complain about it with. I could write him another letter, Ron thought, but what am I supposed to say? "Hey Harry. How's your summer going? Hermione got a letter from Krum the other day and of course I made a bloody prat out of myself. She hasn't spoken to me since. I'm so bored I actually tried to do homework, but it's no use. I can't concentrate." At least it would give him something to laugh about.

A letter was actually starting to look better and better. At least it seemed to flow freely. Ron was seriously considering crossing out the title, and using the parchment to write Harry, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Want some help?" Hermione asked, as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

"No," Ron replied quickly. Lucky it's still an essay, he thought, looking down at the sheet of parchment. The last thing I need is for her to go off on me for skiving off my homework to write a letter.

"You seemed a little... out of sorts when you came to see me earlier," she said after a prolonged silence. "Do you want to... talk about it?"

"Sorry," Ron replied, his eyes glued on the book he was pretending to read. "Guess I have a lot on my mind. I'll be ok, once I get this essay done."

"It's not the essay and we both know it," Hermione stated. "The fact that you're even doing it this early, is, well... odd."

"I thought I'd get it out of the way so I could enjoy the rest of the summer," Ron lied. He didn't need to look up to know she didn't buy a word of it.

"That still doesn't explain why you're so..." So what? she asked herself. "I'm worried about you."

"You don't have to be. I'm fine," Ron replied, turning the page of the book so she'd think he was still reading it. "So... what did Neville have to say?" he asked casually.

Hermione narrowed her eyes as warning bells went off in her head. She knew he couldn't read a book and carry on a conversation at the same time. And she was dead certain that no matter how nonchalantly he'd asked, there was nothing causal about that question. Neville? she thought. No, it couldn't be. Surely he isn't... jealous of Neville? NO! It couldn't be. Could it?

"Is that what this is all about?" she asked. "You're not seriously upset about that letter too, are you?"

Hermione gave him a moment to reply, and when he didn't, she walked over and sat down on the edge of the desk where he was working.

"Ron?"

"I never said I was upset," he said with a sigh, pushing the parchment away from himself and closing the book. There was no point keeping up pretenses. She wasn't buying it and even if she did, it was obvious she wasn't going to let this go.

"But you are. I can tell," Hermione replied.

"Yeah, well... it isn't because of that letter," Ron admitted.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know," he said quickly.

It was a lie and they both knew it.

"You can't seriously be jealous of Neville?"

"I'm not jealous," Ron stated, looking into her deep brown eyes so she'd know it was true.

But something is bothering him, Hermione thought. Something other than Viktor, and Neville is part of it in some way. "What is it then?" she pressed.

Rather than respond with words, he simply sighed again. He didn't know what to say. I know Neville fancied Hermione, Ron told himself silently. She only thinks of him as a friend, but his interests in her were different. He did ask her to the Yule Ball after all. Not that I think Hermione would choose Neville over me. She did turn him down. But then she already had a date, didn't she? Wonderful, famous, Quidditch star and school champion, Viktor Krum. Why would she settle for Neville? Why would she settle for me, for that matter? What do I have to offer her? Ok, so he could put it into words, but did he really want to?

"Ron?" Hermione asked, her eyes full of concern. "Please talk to me."

"If Krum hadn't asked you to the Yule Ball, would you have gone with Neville?" he asked without thinking. The moment the question left his mouth and he saw her eyes go wide, he regretted it.

Hermione didn't like this. Not one bit. She knew she'd have to tread very lightly or the conversation was liable to blow up in her face. It was her own fault, really. She just had to press him. But she hadn't expected it to come back to this. Any time Ron brought up Viktor it ended badly. How was she supposed to answer him without starting a fight? But then, they were already fighting, so what did it matter?

"Probably," she admitted. "Why?"

"Even if ... even though I asked you?" Ron ventured.

"Are you asking me who I wanted to go with?" Hermione replied. "Or who I would have gone with?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes there is," she informed him. "I wanted to go with you, but I didn't think you'd actually ask me. You and Harry were... well, it doesn't matter. I didn't think you'd ever ask me. And I didn't want to go alone. Especially if you two had dates. So I agreed to go with the first person that did ask me."

"Krum."

"Yes. And if Neville had asked me first, I would have gone with him," Hermione explained.

I wish you had, Ron thought. "But you said you wanted to go with me, right? So why would you settle for Neville if he isn't who you wanted to be with?"

Hermione's mouth fell open as all the pieces came falling into place in her mind. "It was just a dance," she replied quickly. "It was only one night. It's nothing like what you're thinking. I wanted to go with you," she insisted. "And when you asked me, part of me wanted to say yes. But I couldn't. Just like Ginny wanted to go with Harry, but she couldn't. We had already agreed to go with other people. We couldn't just take that back."

"So you went with Krum, even though you didn't want to?" Ron pressed. "You settled for him?"

"No," Hermione answered anxiously. "Well, I guess... in a way I did," she reluctantly admitted. "But it is not like what you are thinking. It was only for one night. It was just a chance to have some fun. It didn't matter in the scheme of things. I wasn't settling. I DON'T SETTLE! Not for things that are important. And you were going to be there. I assumed we'd be able to spend time together."

"If it wasn't important, then why were we so angry with each other?" Ron asked, looking at her miserably.

You started it, Hermione thought, but she refrained from saying it out loud. "You're missing the point, Ron."

"Which is?"

"You were the one I wanted all along," she replied, as she reached forward to grab his hand.

"Why?" Ron asked, pulling his hand away before she could grasp it. "Why would you possibly want me? What do I have to offer you compared to... someone like Krum? I have nothing. I am nothing," he said, looking down at the ground despondently. "I'm not good looking like Bill. I'm not a great Quidditch player like Charlie. I'm not brilliant like Percy. Even Fred and George are better than me. They're funny and popular and... I'm just nothing. I'm not heroic and courageous like Harry," he moaned. "The only thing I'm good at is chess, for all the good that's going to do me in life. You can do so much better than me, Hermione. I don't want you to settle. I don't want to... hold you back," he admitted, looking thoroughly dejected.

"Are you quite through?" Hermione asked, her voice low and surprisingly cold.

It definitely wasn't what he expected. What did I expect? Ron wondered as he looked up and saw her glaring at him angrily. Not that. He expected her to look resigned. He expected to see sadness and perhaps a little pity in her eyes. But not this smoldering anger.

"Well?" she demanded. "Are you finished belittling yourself?"

No longer able to stand the disappointment he saw on her face, Ron shifted his gaze to the floor and simply nodded his head.

"If I ever hear you say you are nothing again, Ronald Weasley," Hermione shouted, " I swear I'll... I'll... hit you with a silencing charm so strong you won't be able to speak for a solid month. Do you hear me?"

"But.."

"SHUT UP!"

"But..."

"NO!"

"Hermi--"

"NO!" she cried, placing her fingers under his chin and forcing him to look up at her. "I'm going to tell you something and you better not even think about interrupting me," she warned, letting go of his face. "First of all, you are every bit as heroic and courageous as Harry is. Who sacrificed himself so Harry could reach the Sorcerer's Stone? You did. Who is it that tries to pound Malfoy into a bloody pulp every time he calls me a Mudblood? You do. Who is it that faced down his greatest fear when he had to fight Hagrid's wretched Acromantulas? You did. And who was it that stood up on his broken leg and told Sirius he'd have to kill all three of us if he wanted to hurt Harry? That was the bravest thing I've ever seen, Ron. More courageous than anything I've seen Harry do."

Even if he had wanted to interrupt her, Ron wouldn't have been able to. Not just because she told him not to, but because he had been thoroughly shocked by her little speech. Sure when you list it all like that he came off sounding pretty brave, but he knew that he wasn't. He'd been scared out of his mind, when he did all those things. Well, not with Malfoy, he'd just been angry then, but all the other times. For a moment he was tempted to tell her that it wasn't brave if you were afraid while you did it, but he was more than a little intimidated by her right now. He was too cowardly to speak, which just served to prove his point. So even after he gained his wits again, he said nothing and settled for shooting her a skeptical look instead.

"I know Harry fought Voldemort," Hermione continued. "And he has done loads of other things, but he didn't have a choice. You did. That's what makes what you did so courageous."

That's true, Ron thought. And Harry was afraid when he fought him. He told me later. He was afraid, but he still stood up to him and that was brave.

"That night in the Shrieking Shack, when you pulled yourself up, Sirius told you to lay back down before you hurt yourself any further," Hermione said in a normal tone. "He made it clear that he didn't want to hurt you, but you stood up to him anyway. You thought he was a deranged killer, but you looked him right in the eye and told him he was going to have to kill you to get to Harry. And you meant it. It was the second time I'd seen you willingly risk your life for Harry. And I can't think of anything braver than that," she continued, her voice breaking as her eyes glassed over. "I know you don't think of yourself as a hero, but you are. You're my hero and you have been ever since the day you saved me from that blasted troll," she added, wiping her eyes.

"As for all that other rubbish," Hermione said, pulling herself together quickly for fear he'd think she was finished and interrupt her. "In case you haven't noticed, of all your brothers, the one that you resemble the most IS Bill. And I'm not just talking about your height. You are just as handsome as he is," she informed him, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly as she did. "Better in my opinion, because I don't particularly care for his hair. But don't tell him I said that. I don't want to hurt his feelings. And your eyes are much prettier," she added, causing Ron to blush. I could lose myself in those eyes.

"I don't know Charlie very well, and I've never seen him play Quidditch in a real match. Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I think you are probably a lot better than you realize. Fred and George told Harry you were pretty good when no one was watching you. If they think you are good, then you probably are," she reasoned. "It was your first year, so of course you have to take that into consideration. And you have to allow yourself time to adjust. I mean it's not like playing in your back field is it? And don't even get me started on that horrid song. Besides, you were brilliant in the game against Ravenclaw. Everyone says so."

"As for Fred and George, well there are two of them. They do work off each other. When they are separated, they aren't nearly as bad as they are together. They can even be...civilized. For a little while anyway. Ok, so Fred and George are funny, but they don't make me laugh the way you do," Hermione said with a smile. "Sometimes it almost seems... forced with them. Like it's expected of them so they put on a show. They are very good at it and I know they enjoy it, but I prefer your sarcastic wit to their slapstick antics any day."

"I can't believe you don't see how great you are," Hermione continued, causing him to blush again. "Don't get me wrong. One of the things I love most about you is how down-to-earth you are. I'm glad you aren't a smug, pompous git like Percy. But just because I'd hate to see you all conceited and full of yourself, doesn't mean you have to take it to the other extreme. Stop obsessing about your brothers," Hermione said sternly. "You aren't them. You are your own person. No one expects you to be them, Ron. The only person that compares you to them, is YOU."

Strictly speaking, that wasn't the truth. His mother did it too, but Hermione didn't think it wise to mention that fact.

"No one else cares," she pressed on. "The rest of us see you. YOU! Ron Weasley. The brave, loyal, witty, sarcastic, fun-loving guy, that everybody likes. And in case it slipped your mind, not only did you become a school prefect, but you also managed to win the House Cup, without any help from The Great Harry Potter or The Brilliant Hermione Granger. You did those things all on your own and you should be proud of yourself."

"Ok. Ok, I get it," Ron said, holding out his hand to stop her. "I'm wonderful," he added, turning a brilliant shade of red. "You can stop now."

"Do you?" she asked, looking at him seriously. "Do you really get it, Ron?"

"Yeah, ok? Stop. You're embarrassing me."

"Oh no, we can't have that, can we?" Hermione said, rolling her eyes at him. "Just one more thing and I'm through."

"Yeah, what's that?" he asked, knowing she'd tell him whether he wanted her to or not.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret, but I swear, if you ever repeat this, I'll deny I said it. Oh god," she moaned. "I can't believe I'm about to say this out loud." Hermione paused for a moment, took a big breath and then let it out.

Bloody Hell, Ron thought. It must be bad.

"Fred and George... were right," Hermione said with a sigh.

Huh? "Right about what?" he asked.

"About what really matters," she said in a voice so low it was barely above a whisper. "I know your Mum wanted them to do well in school and get good, solid, respectable jobs at the Ministry like Percy did," she elaborated. "But she was wrong. They were right. They did what was best for them. I think you should do the same thing. I'm not suggesting you drop out of school," she added quickly. "Or that I'll let you skiv off your homework and fail your N.E.W.T.s, because I won't. What I mean is you shouldn't worry so much about what other people think. Especially when it comes to something as important as what you are going to do with the rest of your life."

"Look at your father. He's spent his life doing something he loves. Something that is important to him. Not because it pays well, or because he gets respect for doing it, but because he finds it rewarding. It makes him happy and that is what is truly important. Fred and George just followed in his footsteps. They chose a career that would make them happy. So did Bill and Charlie, if you really think about it. Percy is the only one that chose a career based on how much prestige and money went along with it. Find something you love, Ron. Something that you will find fulfilling. If that's being an Auror, then I'll help you and support you any way I can. If it's something else, that's fine too. Don't let your Mum, or anyone else bully you into a Ministry job if it will make you miserable. Just figure out what's right for you and do that."

Ron honestly didn't know how to reply. He knew that the know-it-all bookworm was just a facade she wore. There was so much more to Hermione than that, but she hid it from everyone else with her books and her grades and her obsession with rules. He was one of the privileged few that knew the real Hermione. Even so, he never expected her to encourage him to go against his mother's wishes.

"WOW, Hermione!" Ron finally said, looking at her with sincere admiration. "That was much better than anything McGonagall told me when she gave me my career advice last year. Maybe you ought to write it all down and give that little speech to the fifth years. I'm sure Ginny would appreciate it."

"Ginny is smart enough to figure it out on her own," Hermione said.

"And I'm not?" he asked, pretending to be offended even as he smiled at her.

"You'd have worked it out eventually. I just thought I'd save you the trouble," she replied. "So... are we alright?"

"Will you take that back now?" Ron asked, pointing at the letter lying on his dresser.

"I still think you should read it," Hermione said, watching Ron rise out of his chair and snatch the letter up.

"No," he said, handing it to her. "You were right. It doesn't matter what he wants if it isn't what you want. And I do trust you," he added. "That's part of the reason I didn't read it."

"You think it was a test?" Hermione asked, as she took the letter from him.

"It was a test," Ron replied. "I was testing myself. I really didn't want to read it, which was odd. If you had handed me one of his letters last year and told me to read it, I would have. Hell, if you had left one sitting in the common room, I would have read it without your permission. Knowing that it would upset you. Knowing that I'd be invading your privacy. I still would have done it. So why did I resist? You handed it to me. You gave me permission to read it. But I didn't want to. It felt wrong. Not because I was invading your privacy, but because it's different now. You told me you weren't interested in him. You chose me and if I read that letter, it would mean I didn't really trust you."

"That's my fault though," Hermione said. "I used him to make you jealous. It was just... sometimes that was the only way I could tell if you still cared and I wanted you to care. I wanted you to fight for me. But you didn't. I could see that you wanted to, but you didn't. Why?"

They stood there in silence for a moment as Ron stared at the floor. "I guess I just didn't know how," he said uncomfortable.

"Was it because you didn't think you were good enough?"

He didn't reply right away. That was part of it. A big part of it, but there was more to it than that. "Yeah," Ron muttered, staring at his feet. "That and I was afraid I'd ruin things between us."

"Viktor is the one that's not good enough," Hermione said, jumping off the desk and standing in front of him. "It isn't something he did or didn't do," she added, taking Ron's hand in hers. "It isn't about what he can give me or what he can't," she continued, as he brought his eyes up and met her gaze. "It's that he isn't you. No one compares to you, Ron. No one else could even come close."

"Do you mean that?"

"Don't you see? If it were anyone but you, then I'd be settling. And already told you, I don't settle. Not when it comes to something this important. "

"I missed you," he whispered, reaching up and lightly brushing the fingers of his right hand over her cheek. Ron knew he was grinning at her like an idiot, but he just couldn't contain it. It didn't matter that there was a war looming on the horizon. It didn't matter that they were confined in this dingy house for the rest of the summer. There was nowhere else he'd rather be. He was standing here, in his bedroom, with the girl of his dreams. She really did want him. She wasn't with him out of convenience. She wasn't biding her time until someone better came along. She wouldn't vanish if he closed his eyes. He didn't have to worry about her staying with him out of pity or obligation. He didn't have to try and be somebody he wasn't, because she knew who he was and wanted him anyway. She really wanted him. Suddenly the world was a perfect place. "I love you, Hermione," Ron whispered, the moment he saw her eyes flutter shut. Somehow the fact she wasn't looking at him, made it easier to say. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered back, moving in closer and pressing herself against him. She was so close now she could feel his heart pounding against his chest as he leaned down and claimed her lips.

And claim them he did. Ron wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly as he devoured her lips. She was his and he didn't ever want to let go of her again. She was his and he was hers. As long as they had that, nothing else mattered.

As the kiss deepened, Ron started nudging Hermione backwards with his body. Two or three small steps and the back of her legs collided with his bed.

"No," she said, prying her mouth off his just long enough to utter that solitary word and then kissing him again.

"Why not?" Ron asked, pulling away so he could see her face. She appeared to be a bit dazed by the question, but that fact was lost on him. He was too busy taking in everything else. Her flushed cheeks; the way her lips were wet and red from their kisses; her unruly hair, which his hands had teased into an utter mess. Despite her disheveled appearance, she'd never looked more beautiful to him.

"You know your mother is going to come looking for us eventually," Hermione replied.

"No she won't," Ron insisted, dipping his head down and leaving a trail of soft kisses on her neck. "She still thinks we're fighting," he added, smiling to himself when he felt her shiver against him.

"What if she does?" Hermione asked, determined to maintain a hold on her sanity, despite the way he was making her feel. "Do you really want her to find us snogging in your bed?"

"No," he admitted. Her wrath would be swift and it would be brutal. Yet even knowing that, he was willing to risk it. The rewards far outweighed the risk in this case. "What about Harry's bed?" he teased, spinning her around and steering her towards it instead.

"Honestly, Ron."

"This isn't about that promise you made them is it?" he asked. "You won't have to do anything inappropriate," he added with a lopsided smile. "I'll do all the inappropriate stuff for you."

"You will, will you?" she asked with a soft giggle. "That's awful generous of you, but it won't be necessary. I promised I wouldn't do anything inappropriate under their roof. We aren't under their roof anymore."

"You little minx," Ron laughed, "You added that bit about being under their roof on purpose."

"Of course I did," she admitted. "It's not like we were going to be there for very long. Although, I did expect it to be most of the summer."

"It's a shame really," Ron teased, using his body to push her backwards and pin her against the wall between the bureau and the door. "If you only knew about all the fantasies I've had about the two of us in my room. But then... this is my room too, isn't it?" he asked with a cheeky grin, leaning to the right and bolting the door. It wouldn't keep his mother out. Not if she wanted to get in. But it might buy them a few precious moments. "Even if it's not at the Burrow. One room is as is good as another," he stated moments before he captured her lips in a crushing kiss.

"This would be a lot easier if we were lying down," Ron muttered a few minutes later, hoping she'd relent.

"You're the one that's too tall."

"Hey! I'm perfect. Remember?"

"I never said you were perfect," Hermione laughed. "You have a horrible temper and you're too tall."

"Or maybe," Ron countered, as he grasped her waist and lifted her in the air so her face was level with his own."You're just too short. Better?" he asked, using the wall to help sustain her weight.

"Better," Hermione agreed, wrapping her legs around his body to help support herself.

"Mione," he groaned softly, glancing over his shoulder at the bed.

"You better put me down," she said, realizing the position she was in and what it suggested.

"Mione," he pleaded, as she released her hold on him and slid down the wall.

"We can't," she replied firmly.

The regret in her voice was nothing compared to the disappointment he felt at her words. Rather than argue with her, Ron released his hold on her and let his head fall against the wall in submission. For a moment he considered banging his head against the wall a few more times, but he knew it probably wouldn't do much to help the situation. In that split second of inattentiveness, Hermione ducked under his arm and unbolted the door.

"No, don't leave," Ron cried, opening his eyes and grabbing her from behind before she could retreat out the now open door.

"I don't think we should stay in here," Hermione replied. "It's too tempting."

"So you are tempted?" he asked, unable to contain the smile caused by that revelation.

"Yes."

"But we can't?" he asked, even though he knew what the answer would be.

"You know we can't."

He did. But he wasn't going to admit it. "We can do other things."

"What other things?" Hermione asked coyly, arching her eyebrow at him.

"Come back in here and I will show you," Ron replied, hauling her back until her backside was pressed firmly against him, then leaning forward to kiss her neck.

"You aren't playing fair," Hermione groaned as her entire body shuddered against him. She knew the sensible thing to do was flee because what little control she had left was rapidly slipping away. But it felt so good to be in his arms and she had missed him tremendously. Does it always feel this good, after a fight? she wondered, as she spun around and sought out his lips. If it does, we are going to fight more often.