Disclaimer – Obviously not mine or I'd currently be working on Book 7 instead of posting fan fic. But special thanks to JK for such colorful characters that seem right at home playing amongst the fields called my imagination. A/N – Many, many, many apologies for taking so long to get this chapter to you. I would have to say that just simply laziness on my part is about fifty percent to blame. The other fifty percent is completely Ron and Hermione's fault because for the past two weeks they have wanted to frolic around in the fields of my imagination with lots of other plot bunnies. It took several Chocolate Frogs and a very expensive new quill to persuade them back into this plot. Also, we have come to an agreement that they won't take off again and I won't be so lazy. I hope to write and post the last chapter to this story soon. With that being said….Enjoy! DEUCES WILD

Chapter 3 – Straight Flushed

Before Ron was really thinking about what he was doing, he was on the floor of the shower stall next to Hermione and pulling her onto his lap and into a hug. He'd never been good with a crying Hermione, but somehow his actions this time just seemed right. Maybe it was the late hour and his exhaustion that left him feeling rather brain addled, but it was as if not thinking, for once, about what his actions around Hermione should be resulted in the most natural of actions.

It was further proved that his reaction to the situation had been the right one when within seconds, she had buried her face in his chest and continued to sob. Ron felt tears start to sting his eyes so he buried his face into her unruly wet curls and kissed the top of her head, which made her cry even harder.

Okay, so it just wouldn't be normal if he did everything right. After all, he, Ron Weasley, was once again the reason why one of his best mates, Hermione Granger, was in tears.

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Ron wasn't sure how long they had sat on the shower floor…his arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders; her arms wrapped just as tightly around his neck…but he knew that sitting there in his now wet jeans, he was starting to get quite chilled. He could only imagine how cold Hermione was in just her wet bra and knickers. Of course, Ron was really trying his hardest not to think too much about the fact that she was in only her bra and knickers. 'Just focus on how cold she probably is!'

Hermione's sobs had finally started to subside, so Ron was just about to mention that maybe they should really get back down to the Common Room so she could get dressed, when her voice cut through the silence.

"What's wrong with me?" Her voice was hoarse from crying, and it sounded as if she had choked back another sob after voicing the question.

He pulled away from her slightly so that he could look down into her face, even though she wasn't looking at him. "Wrong with you?" Ron was hoping for some clarification as to what she was really asking. He wasn't sure if she was questioning the effects of the alcohol, her actions in general that evening, or something else on a much broader spectrum. After upsetting her already this evening, he didn't want to assume the wrong meaning and anger or upset her further.

When she snapped her head so that she was now looking him in the eyes and spat, "Yes, Ronald! What's wrong with me?" he knew that, as was usual with Hermione, no matter what he said in this situation, he was going to hack her off.

The thought that he was at least happy that he was now dealing with angry-Hermione once again had just passed through his mind when she had buried her face in her hands against his chest and was sobbing again. Ron was just about to start running his hands soothingly through her hair when she quickly pulled away from him and was glaring daggers at him. If he didn't think that it would have gotten him hexed, Ron would've shouted to the stars that he cursed the bloody Fates for making girls so damn confusing.

He could tell that she was still angry but her voice remained full of anguish when she shouted, "What's so bloody wrong with me that the only boys I can get to take an interest in me are either grouchy gits who can't even pronounce my name properly or slobbering drunks that are only interested in getting into my knickers?"

Had Ron's heart not nearly broken by what she was implying by her question, he wouldn't have known what to be more amused by: the fact the she, prim and proper Prefect Hermione, had swore; the fact that she had finally acknowledged that Krum was, in fact, a grouchy git; or the fact that she wasn't completely unaware of what Seamus' intentions had been that evening. Ron was contemplating how to respond when his heart did break at her next inquiry.

"Or why one of my best friends suddenly can't stand to be alone with me?" Hermione was staring deep in his eyes as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

Ron grabbed both of her cheeks and proceeded to wipe away the tears with his thumbs. "Bloody hell, 'Mione, there is absolutely nothing wrong with you…it's me…it's all me!"

Hermione broke eye contact by closing them momentarily and then looking down at his chest when she did open them again. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, "Ron, I always knew that it was inevitable that you and Harry would get girlfriends, but I guess I was naïve in thinking that it wouldn't change our friendship."

Ron sighed and closed his eyes to compose himself. When Hermione had lashed out at him downstairs about why he had been in detention, he was fairly certain that some of her behavior tonight had been because of whatever she had heard about the incident. However, he didn't think that it would stem as deeply as to his avoidance of her the last few weeks. Now she was obviously assuming that the reason he had been so distant with her was that he had a girlfriend now and didn't want to continue to be friends with her.

He let out a long sigh just before he opened his eyes to find her looking at him once again. "I don't have a girlfriend, Hermione. I'm sure that whatever you were told about what happened today to land me in the worst detention of my life is partially accurate; however, you are completely mistaken as to the reasons behind what happened. Now, I really feel like this is neither the time nor place to go into a bunch of details, but to make a long story short the little slag tricked me into following her under the pretense that there was some kind of trouble. Once we were alone in the classroom, she threw herself at me, which was the same time that McGonagall just happened into her classroom. Had we not been interrupted, I would've proceeded to tell off the Hufflepuff using that language you are so often reprimanding me about."

Again, Hermione was avoiding eye contact. "Then why?" Her voice was just above a whisper.

Ron sighed again and glanced over Hermione's facial features…the way her brow was knitted together in anguish, the way her eyes were glistening once again with unshed tears, the way her lower lip was beginning to quiver just slightly. He hadn't really wanted to go into why he had been avoiding contact and solitary time with her, but watching the emotions that were playing across her face and all the sorrow he had already caused her, he decided to take the high road for once and just come clean with her.

He decided that as it was, he had already bruised their friendship. Failure to give her answers would only deepen the wounds, and giving her anything but the truth would simply kill their friendship in the long run, because the truth always comes out. He knew that the truth would do one of two things: it would either make his wildest dreams come true or it would squash any false hopes he was harboring. Either way, he decided that the truth would probably be best for both of them all around.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he began.

"First, I need you to know that what I'm going to say is probably…no it will change things between us and I'll understand completely if you don't want anything to do with me." Ron was a bit thrown off when her eyes snapped back up to his. His heart rate increased and his stomach clenched. 'Ok, this was easier when she wasn't looking at me.' She nodded at him as if she was silently pleading with him to continue.

"Well, you know, that one afternoon at the Burrow after Harry, Ginny, you and I had played a quick round of Quidditch, but is was just so hot that you and Ginny had decided that you'd rather spend your time down by the pond, but me and Harry said we weren't through flying yet."

Even though she looked a bit confused, Hermione nodded insinuating that she remembered the day he was talking about.

"Well about half an hour after you two left, Harry mentioned that he'd had enough and was going to head up to the house to take a quick shower. I figured that while he was showering that I'd fly down by the pond and pop in to see what you and Gin were up to."

Hermione looked thoroughly confused now and was shaking her head slightly. Her voice was hoarse when she said, "But you never came down to the pond that day. Not even when Harry made his way down after he had showered and changed."

Ron closed his eyes once again and tried his best to will himself not to blush as he reached the part of his story that had caused him to suddenly become distant with her. He didn't even open his eyes as he continued because he couldn't bear to see the look of disgust that he knew would be there when he made his confession.

"You were both lying on your stomach's on a blanket on the water's edge when I landed a few meters away. I shouldered my broom and was plotting a way to scare the two of you, when you reached behind your back and untied your top. I'm not completely stupid. I'd heard Fred and George talk about girls and no tan lines. But I was stunned and stopped dead in my tracks. However, it wasn't the act itself that stunned me; it was the reaction it caused in me."

Ron sat in silence a moment waiting for her reaction. When she didn't respond in words or in actions, he hoped that she wasn't confused and that he wouldn't have to explain what kind of reactions he was referring to. He got the shock of his life when he opened his eyes and she was looking at him with wide but hopeful eyes. He was further shocked when she elicited that reaction out of him by simply running her fingers lightly across his cheek and down his jaw and whispering, "Oh, Ron."

Ron clasped his eyes closed tightly and started pleading, "Oh, dear Merlin, Hermione. I'm so sorry. You must think that I'm the world's biggest wanker. You're one of my best mates and I've spent that last three weeks having all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about you. Please don't hate…"

Ron's plea was cut short when Hermione's mouth was suddenly pressed to his. He sat stunned for a moment until her hands made their way into his hair, then his lips were moving against hers and she was responding in full. It was clumsy and wet and lacking in experience, but it was the most amazing feeling that he had ever felt. Her lips were soft but wet and they tasted salty from the tears and sweet from the punch. He boldly ran his tongue along her lower lip, and when she opened up to him, his tongue delved into her warm mouth and he melted into her.

When his lungs were screaming for oxygen, Ron pulled away and slowly opened his eyes to look down at the object of his deepest desires. She was gasping for air and looking at him through heavy lids. He gently ran his fingers over her left cheek and whispered, "Hermione?" He needed to know where they stood…what had just happened between them.

For her part Hermione leaned into his touch and sighed quite contentedly as her eyes slid shut once more. He was debating on whether he should lean back in for another kiss when her eyes suddenly shot open and her hand was covering her mouth. Ron's stomach clenched and he began to panic as it became apparent that hit had suddenly hit Hermione as to what she had done…what they had done.

His heart broke when she gasped, behind her hand, "Oh god, Ron." However, suddenly she was off of his lap and scrambling toward the nearest toilet. When Ron heard her retching, he was slightly relieved that it wasn't their actions that had caused her reaction. As he got up off the floor and went to sit next to her so he could hold her hair back as she emptied the contents of her stomach, Ron hoped that what had just happened between the two of them wasn't alcohol induced as was her current state of vomiting.

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It was after two in the morning when Ron carried Hermione's lifeless body into his dorm room.

Not long after she had finished emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she had passed out. Ron decided that there was no way that he was about to leave an unconscious Hermione alone in the Common Room, especially if Finnigan was still down there. He also knew that there was no way that he could get Hermione up to her own room, so the only option left was for him to take her up to his. He quickly cast a Drying charm on both of them before he picked up Hermione and set off up the stairs toward the sixth-year boy's dormitory all the while trying once again not to think about Hermione and her state, or lack, of dress.

When Ron entered the dorm, he noticed that only two of the five beds were occupied. Obviously both Seamus and Neville were both still passed out in the Common Room. Ron shook his head. Neville…poor bloke…good thing he passed out before he said too much.

Ron gently laid Hermione down on his bed before he rummaged around in his trunk for a clean Cannons T-Shirt. He then struggled with the limp body of his best friend as he pulled the rather-large-on-her garment over her head and worked her arms through the sleeves. She moaned a few times, but other than that she remained lifeless. Once he had her settled into the left side of the bed and all tucked in, he pulled the curtains around the four poster then grabbed his pajama bottoms and was about to head to the loo to change, when his eyes fell on Neville's empty bed again.

Ron sighed. Seamus had dug his own grave this evening (at least in Ron's eyes he had) and deserved to feel like shite when he awoke in the morning. Neville, on the other hand, was a good bloke and didn't really let himself have fun much at all. He definitely didn't deserve to wake up with the hangover that he was sure to have in the morning or the crook in his neck if he remained in the same passed out potion on the table downstairs. Making up his mind, Ron tossed his clothes on top of his trunk and went over to Harry's bedside table to grab his vial of Harrah's Hangover Helper.

The two friends had mail ordered the potions off of the twins, after much ribbing, when they had heard about the little "gathering" tonight. They had planned on joining in on the fun before they had both ended up with detention.

Ron had already known that he'd be giving Hermione his vial of potion, and he didn't think that Harry would really mind giving Neville his dose. After all, there wasn't likely going to be any more "gatherings" before the term was over at Christmas. Ron and Harry would just have to buy more when they went home to the Burrow for the holidays.

When Ron reached the Common Room, he caught sight of all the pieces of clothing that were strewed all over the corner that was no longer protected by Seamus' Disillusionment spell. He decided that it would probably be prudent of him to collect his and Hermione's clothes so that there was no physical evidence of their participation that evening. Also, he figured that if Hermione's clothes were gone, everyone would just assume that she had collected them and had went to bed. With it being Sunday, no one would miss Hermione until around lunchtime if they didn't catch sight of her.

Once Ron had collected their clothing, he pulled on his T-shirt before he gathered Neville's clothes and sat them on the table next to the puddle of drool near his roommate. Then he proceeded to shake the boy until he awoke.

"Hey, Nev. Come on, mate. You need to wake up. We've got to get you up to bed, yeah?"

Neville set up and swayed a bit. When he started to lean forward toward the table again, Ron quickly uncorked the vial of Hangover Helper and poured it down the other's throat. Neville spat and sputtered a bit but then became more alert.

"Ron?"

"Hey, mate."

"What…"

Ron just waved the empty vial in front of the boys face. "Hangover potion. It kicks in right away making you feel a little better, but it's got a mild sleeping draught that will probably be knocking you out again within about ten minutes. You'll feel relaxed and right as rain come morning. Now you better gather up your stuff there and get your arse up to bed 'cause I'm not carrying you."

Neville gave Ron a genuine smile and said, "Thanks, Ron."

"Hey, don't thank me. It's Harry's potion. Come on."

Ron pulled Neville out of his chair, handed him the pile of clothes on the table and nudged him toward the stairs. Once the other boy was on his way, Ron went to grab his and Hermione's clothes when he caught sight of Seamus still lying passed out on the floor. Ron knew that an evil grin was plastered across his face as he Conjured a tube of paint and a brush. As Ron was heading back up the stairs carrying the pile of clothing, he was slightly disappointed that he wouldn't be there in the morning to witness the Irishman being found with big, bold, red letters across his chest. P – O – O – F!

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When Hermione began to awake early Sunday morning, her consciousness registered four details about her surroundings immediately. The first was that she felt absolutely wretched. Her head was killing her, she felt sore and nauseous so that she couldn't help think that it felt like she may have caught the Muggle flu or something. The second was that it was extremely early in the morning because there seemed to be little light that was filtering into the room. The third and fourth element occurred to her simultaneously. Her feet were tucked under the duvet, an incidence that did not normally occur, and Crookshanks was apparently sleeping in the bend of her legs because she couldn't seem to get her feet out from under the covers.

Hermione struggled a moment to get her feet out of their confines. Ever since she was a little girl, long before Hogwarts, she had never been able to sleep with her feet covered up. She always felt like she was about to suffocate. However, when her efforts only succeeded in making the room start to feel like it was spinning out of control, she decided that perhaps this once it wouldn't kill her to have them covered. Yet, that didn't stop her from pleading with her ginger haired bedmate.

"Crooks, love, please move." Her voice was just barely over a whisper but was filled with pleading desperation.

When she got no reaction, she looked over her shoulder and toward the far end of the bed to see if her cat was sleeping or just being stubborn. Where she expected to see the ball of red hair curled up somewhere between her thighs and her calves, she found a pair of long, ginger hair covered legs in too short pajamas.

In complete shock, she sat bolt upright. However, as quickly as she sat up, she fell back to the bed moaning in agony of the wave of intense nausea that hit her as well as the foggy memories of what had conspired only hours before. What the hell had she been thinking?

Hermione felt the bed shift where Ron moved to set up.

"Mione, you okay?"

She didn't trust her voice or even to open her mouth without spewing all over him and herself, so she simply shook her head in the negative. She thought for a moment about opening her eyes to look at him but decided that not only would the act probably cause her head to split in two, but that it would also cause her to be even more embarrassed than she already was…she could already feel a flush starting to creep up her neck and across her cheeks.

She took a risk in talking and very softly said, "What time is it?"

After a short pause, Ron answered. "Early. Probably just before six."

Then she felt Ron shifting around on the bed and then apparently he was offering her something because he said, with a voice that was deep and full of concern, "Here." Hermione slowly opened one eye and noticed that he was offering her a vial with a bright pink potion.

She closed her eye again and swallowed hard before she whispered, "What is it?"

Hermione's heart and stomach both did a little back flip when Ron gently ran his fingers over her forehead and down her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear. Again his voice was gentle when he said, "Hangover potion. It'll help, really."

"Where did you get it?"

Hermione heard Ron chuckle before he answered, "Harry and I ordered a vial each when Seamus told us about his little party tonight. I used Harry's on poor Neville and saved mine for you."

"Don't you need it?"

"No, love, I didn't have anything to drink tonight. One of us had to keep our head clear."

Hermione groaned. She was hoping that some of the things that she was remembering about the events of the evening had been fabricated in her own mind. However, she could tell by Ron's tone that she had made a total fool of herself and that he was trying extremely hard to not take the mickey out on her. Hermione rubbed her hands across her face and let out a long, slow breath that caught in her throat when she felt his hand slip under the back of her neck and rub lightly.

Hermione could feel his breath across her forehead as Ron softly spoke. "Come on, Hermione. Please take the potion. It'll make you feel better. I promise."

Her head lulled slowly against the pillow so that she was facing Ron and she slowly opened her eyes. She was shocked to see how close he was, but even more, she was shocked at the sweet smile that was spread across his face. An image suddenly flashed across her mind of his lips against pressed against hers and once again she felt herself blushing because she couldn't decided if the image was fantasy or reality. She quickly shut her eyes again, but nodded as if trying to acknowledge to Ron that she would take the potion.

Moments later she felt the vial being pressed against her lips as Ron was lifting her head. She lifted herself up onto her elbows as she drank down the potion. It took all the willpower she could muster up not to spit the bitter potion in Ron's face. She shuddered as she swallowed down the pink liquid and fell back down to the bed.

It was the most unusual feeling that she had ever felt. Unlike the effects of the alcohol, which took quite awhile to hit her, she could feel the Hangover potion begin to work its magic beginning at the top of her head and washing its way down to her toes. Immediately all the pain and nausea and the dizziness was gone and a smile spread across her face.

Again she rolled her head in Ron's direction and opened her eyes. Time suddenly stood still. Ron was lying on his side propped up on his right elbow with his chin resting in his palm and he was so close and all Hermione wanted to do was pull him to her and kiss that cocky grin off of his face.

She was pulled from what were about to work their way into inappropriate thoughts when he lightly laughed and said, "Feeling better then, party girl?"

Hermione turned so that she could bury her face into Ron's pillow. She knew her voice was muffled as she spoke, but she also knew that he could still hear her.

"Oh, Merlin, Ron. I'm never going to hear the end of it. What have I done?"

She felt a very unfamiliar twinge shoot through her abdomen when Ron started soothingly running his hand through her hair.

"Don't worry about it 'Mione. For once you just let go and acted like a normal teenage witch. Just look at last night as the night that the new Hermione Granger was born."

Again she spoke into the pillow. "Yeah, well, it was also the night the old one was born as well."

"What?"

Hermione didn't really think that she had said the last comment loud enough for Ron to hear what she had said. She debated whether she should repeat it directly to him. He'd hurt her a lot over the past couple of weeks so she wondered if maybe she should hurt him a little as well by making him feel guilty. 'Yeah, but he more than made up for the past weeks with his confession and his actions afterward in the loo. Well that is if it really happened.'

Hermione risked another look at Ron only to see his face full of anguish. She knew that he apparently had been able to make out what she had said. He was simply questioning the words for his own clarification.

"Blimey, Hermione! Why didn't you say anything about it being your birthday?"

She just shrugged her shoulders slightly.

"I can't believe that Ginny or Harry didn't say anything to me."

Her voice was barely a whisper when she admitted. "They really didn't remember either."

"What was that?"

Hermione sighed and in a more confident voice said, "They didn't exactly remember it either."

"Oh, 'Mione!"

Unexpectedly, she found herself being pulled into Ron's body as he hugged her to him, and once again, that tingle at the close body contact ran rampant through her.

"I'm sorry, love. I really am. I'll make it up to you…we'll make it up to you…I promise."

Hermione pushed herself up on her left elbow so that she could look down into his eyes…those bright blue orbs that held more emotion than she thought that Ronald Weasley was capable of. Suddenly she had an uninhibited desire to run her hand underneath his shirt and across the tight abdominal muscles that she had seen down in the Common Room while teasing his tongue with hers.

Before she could rationalize her thoughts or her actions for that fact, she was doing exactly that. Ron had gasped in surprised initially, but he had quickly become an enthusiastic partner in this dance that they were doing. He returned Hermione's kisses fervently and his hand had worked its way underneath his T-shirt that she was wearing and he was running his hand across her bare lower back.

Hermione shivered as the desire that she vaguely remembered feeling downstairs with Seamus passed over her tenfold. In the back of her mind, she knew that what she was doing and what she really wanted to do was extremely wrong. She was a Prefect, for Merlin's sake. But here she was lying in bed with the boy that had been the object of her desires for several months, snogging like there was no tomorrow, and all she could think about was that she needed more, even if she really didn't know what that more was.

She broke away from the kiss, breathing heavily. Ron quickly pulled her tightly against his chest and she could hear and feel the rapid beating of his heart and his gasps for breath. Still, there was a little voice in the back of her mind that kept screaming that she needed more…that she needed to get closer to him…that she needed release.

Once again, Hermione threw herself at Ron and quickly pushed her tongue into his mouth. Promptly the world shifted and Hermione found herself being pressed into the bed with Ron lying half on top of her. One of his hands was buried in her hair and the other was running eagerly up and down her side.

Feeling rather brazen, Hermione ran her hands down Ron's back and pushed them hurriedly inside the waistband of his pajamas and gripped his bare arse.

Suddenly Ron had jumped away from Hermione, wide-eyed. "Fuck, Hermione!"

Hermione was fighting hard to control her breathing, but once again all she could think of was 'More…I need more!' Then it was her turn for her eyes to go wide and she buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, god, Ron. What is happening to me?"

Hermione could fell Ron shifting frantically around on the bed and then he cursed. "Oh, those two sodding prats are dead!"

Her eyes shot open and quickly sought out Ron. His face was flushed, but Hermione couldn't tell if it was from anger or from their previous activities, but he looked as if he could spit fire at that moment if he really tried, so her bet was on flushed from anger. He was staring intensively at the vial that she assumed had contained the Hangover potion that he had given her. She knew that her eyes went wide from fear this time when her mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of what could've caused her current state.

"Ron, where did you get that? Where did you and Harry get the potions from?"

Through gritted teeth, Ron answered, "Those bloody twins." He then set up quickly, pulling his legs up toward his chest and hanging his head between his knees. "Bloody hell, 'Mione. I am so sorry."

"Why?"

He answered her question by simply handing her over the empty vial before he clamped his hands in his hair and began to pull slightly.

Hermione could feel her hands begin to shake and she tentatively turned the vial over so she could read the label. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head and she said, "Oh, shite," under her breath upon realizing that she had just taken a full dose of A.Disiacs Hangover Potion with Uninhibitor – Takes You From Pissed to Blissed.

This was really shaping up to be the absolute worst birthday ever!

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As always thanks for your support. Your reviews are most welcomed!