Grimmauld Place was the kind of house that was never silent, even in the dead of night, it's occupants (almost) all soundly asleep. There were always creaks and groans, and the pittering sound of little creatures running around in the attic. Hermione hoped to god they were mice. The unusual heat of the day had broken into a summer storm, and in addition the typical nighttime house noises, and Ginny's snores, tonight she was being treated to the sound of wind whistling through the spires of the roof, and rain thrashing the window.

She was restless. After her chess match with Ron they had drifted out to the sitting room with the others, where the mood had been markedly more grim. The full fledged members of the Order were cagey about something, and had taken to whispering in clusters when they thought Hermione and the others weren't paying attention. She privately thought it had something to do with Harry's uncharacteristic radio silence. Sure, he wasn't the most consistent letter writer, but one could rely on expecting a few throughout the summer with his hasty scrawl, full of carefully pleasant anecdotes about his summer activities. He rarely opened up to Hermione about just how bad the Dursley's were, and she was worried about not hearing from him for so long. It didn't help none of the adults would tell them anything, other than the usual, 'He's Fine, We're Handing It', or in Mollys case 'Now don't you worry about that dears', which was somehow less reassuring and even more vague.

Her and Ginny had gone to bed early, around half to 10, not interested in enduring the forced normalcy of Remus or Arthur's conversations. Ginny was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the scratchy pillow on the twin bed, but Hermione had lain awake for hours, listening to the footsteps on the stairs as everyone trickled to bed.

Her restless energy from the morning was back with a vengeance, and rainstorm certainly wasn't helping her relax. She shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax into the bed

CLACK

She startled up of bed, twisting towards the window. Rivulets of rain were streaming down the pane, and sky was the curious purple shade of a storm in the middle of the night; it seemed almost too bright for the late hour.

A tree branch was swaying close to the window, swooshing closer to the window with every gust of wind.

Hermione took a deep breath and released the blanket she'd grabbed onto out of pure fright when she sat up. This isn't working, I need to get out of here. I'll go fix a cup of cocoa, by the time it's done I'll be tired again.

Her mind resolved to move around for a bit and hopefully shake off the insomnia of the night, She pushed her covers off and stood, the cool night air immediately giving rise to goosebumps along her arms and legs. She was wearing a loose sleeping shirt, one her Dad's that had found its way into her drawer one day. Her bottoms were plain sleeping shorts she'd packed, anticipating the sweltering heat of the burrow in the summer instead of the chill that seemed to be a constant fixture at Grimmauld place.

She crept to the door and gently turned the knob, easing it open. There was no chance of waking Ginny, but Molly had an uncanny sense for kids out of bed. The Weasley children privately discussed the possibility of tracing charms.

She paused after shutting the door beside her with a click. There was no sign of stirring from any of the other rooms. The rain was loud enough she could probably practice her combustion charms in the sitting room without anyone noticing anyways.

She made her way downstairs to the kitchen quietly, nervous for no reason really, it's not like this was Hogwarts, she didn't have a curfew. But still, she didn't like the thought of running into her friends parents in the kitchen at 2 am.

It was dark in the kitchen. The clock above the dining table ticked past 1:47 am. Hermione took the kettle from the stove and filled it with water from the sink placing back down. She reached for the dial to turn it on and paused. Would it even work? She didn't understand why wizarding households were filled with muggle looking appliances. Why would a stove have dials if a witch could just flick her wand to turn it on? She supposed there had to be some way for children to work things before they were allowed to use magic at home, but that rule seemed lax in magical household where magic was the norm and traces couldn't be done on individuals within the home.

She twisted the knob, it clicked a few times before flaring to life with a hiss. She smiled. So the Noble Black Family wasn't too good for muggle technology. Wizards.

She started opening cupboards, hunting for mugs, wincing as she left one swing close a little too abruptly.

"Blimey 'Mione, you trying to wake up the whole house?"

She spun around. A groggy looking Ron stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He let out a yawn and reached his arms above him, stretching.

"Ronald! What are you doing awake?" She whisper hissed at him

He squinted at her "You're down here too"

"I know, just, you surprised me"

She could tell the exact moment he took in her bedraggled appearance, his eyes flicking down briefly to take in her outfit, probably less clothes than he'd ever seen her in, before flicking up to her eyes to make steady, intentional eye contact. No doubt trying not to embarrass her by mentioning the state she must've looked.

It was hard to tell in the dark kitchen, but she thought he flushed.

"Right, well, I'm making cocoa" She broke their tense silence "Do you want any?"

He shrugged "Yeah sure, if you're making some"

She nodded and turned back to the cupboards, busying herself rifling around in search of the cocoa mix. How anything under the oversight of Molly Weasley could be so disorganized was beyond her, but here was the evidence; loose teabags intermingled with spice mixed and vials of unlabelled medicinal-looking vials. It was a wonder the whole lot hadn't collapsed on her avalanche style yet.

Suddenly she felt a closeness behind her, and the touch of a warm, gentle, hand on her upper right back, before a long arm stretched over her right shoulder and nimbly plucked the box of cocoa mix from somewhere on the top shelf. She felt Ron take a few steps back and turned around

Ron was facing her with a cheeky grin. "'Mione, do you carry a stool around with you when I'm not here or what?"

Hermione only dimly registered that he was teasing her, the minute amount of physical contact that he'd just instigated had left her feeling a little dizzy. She opened her mouth to make a feeble attempt at a retort, but was saved by the faint whistle of the kettle almost reaching temperature. She turned and snatch it from the stove, flicking the cover of the spout off so it didn't begin to whistle in earnest.

Ron had pulled two delicate china tea cup from the cupboard. All of the treasured Black possessions had been in pristine, if dusty condition when the Order had moved in. Hermione thought the most of the members Order took perverse pleasure in handling things carelessly, and now most of the dishes had a least a few cracks or chips.

He was measuring out heaping spoonfuls of cocoa powder into the cups. She frowned at him surely that has to be too much

He looked up and saw her frowning

"Hermione, it's not too much, trust me I've tested just about every way you could make this"

"I didn't say anything!"

"Yeah but you were thinking it"

She crossed her arms "Fine. But it better be good."

"It will be, hold on!"

He poured the boiled water over the powder and mixed it with a spoon, careful not to let the hot liquid spill over the edge of the cup.

"Add some milk now or it'll burn you... actually, why didn't you use milk in the first place? It's way better"

"Sorry I'm not a hot chocolate expert!" She huffed exasperated, "I just came down here because I couldn't sleep."

"Me too." He passed her the warm cup, handle first, taking care not to let her touch the hot exterior he himself was holding. He looked at her seriously "Everything ok?"

She nodded "Yeah I'm fine, just, the war, and the order, and Harry, and school"

"School!?It's August how could you possibly be stressed about school?"

"Well, it's tough subjects! We're going to have a lot of homework. I've already started a tentative study schedule pending class times"

He shook his head "You're barking." He took a sip of his cocoa and nodded "Delicious, just like. a knew it would be." He paused then, peering down into his cup with a strangely blank expression. "And Harry?" He asked, casually.

"You're not worried about Harry? We haven't heard from him all summer, I mean normally it's like three letters at best, but that's better than this! And everyone in the order is being so weird about it. Aren't you worried?"

"Of course I am! I just didn't know if, like, there was anything else going on"

"Anything else? What exactly are you implying?" Hermione felt a rising rage bubbling through her, the kind that would have exploded lightbulbs when she was a child. She got this from everyone. Her roommates, people in the corridors at Hogwarts, even the odd wayward glance from a professor. Just because she was a girl and her best friends were boys did not mean there was anything else going on there (current feeling for Ron notwithstanding of course). But the fact he would say that to her about Harry was just absurd.

"You're being absurd Ronald! You of all people should know that there's nothing like that going on, and frankly it's ridiculous and disrespectful!"

"Ok! Ok! I'm sorry! Please keep your voice down" He whisper hissed "It's just hard to tell sometimes, especially since it's Harry, and everyone loves Harry, and I thought, well, I just thought maybe you..." He trailed off seeming chastened, not looking at her.

"No! I don't think about Harry in any way other than friends, and I don't know why you would think otherwise."

He shook his head and offered her a smile- part grimace really, as if pained but trying to conceal it from her "Nevermind 'mione, forget I asked."

She took a sip of her hot chocolate, testing to see if it was cool enough to drink. Her anger at Ron had abruptly simmered off, and had turned to something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She briefly ran though memories of Harry in her head, parsing them for any reason for Ron to be acting like this. She came up empty, nearly. She never touched Ron. Harry she didn't mind casually brushing by, a hand on the should or a ruffle of his hair.

With Ron it was different, everything had been feeling so much more significant lately, and she knew she would fixate on even the most casual hand on a shoulder. Even though they were best friends, she just wasn't as relaxed around him physically as she might be with others. There was always awareness of where he was, and where she was, and how they were in relation to each other. With Harry, or Ginny, or any of their other friends and classmates she just didn't care as much. And it wasn't to say she was especially with other people, she wasn't. Her home growing up had never been much about physical affection, and she couldn't imagine growing up among the physical rowdiness of the Weasleys. Ginny had no trouble jostling the other girls, casually running a hand through someone else's hair, or draping an arm over her friends chairs. Hermione couldn't imagine that. But she did see where Ron could be getting his ideas from. She'd been told she seemed uptight before, but it hurt a little bit coming from her friend, especially since the fact she cares about him so much was the reason she felt awkward about acting on any impulses she might have regarding physical touch.

Her heart rate picked up, and felt a slight buzz fill her mind. Before she could think too much about she reach out and grabbed his hand, the one he'd used to spin her back from the door.

It was warm, and rough, from his hours of Molly enforced labour, and Quidditch practice. It was also wonderfully dry. She was sure her hands were clammy but he didn't appear to notice or care.

He looked down at their clasped hands, and without looking at her, ever so gently ran a thumb over the back of her fingers. It was a feeling she would never forget, full of curiosity, potential, and tacit understanding. She actually thought he would be able to hear her heartbeat from were was standing, or at the very least be able to feel the pounding of her pulse somehow in the palm of her hand.

"You could just ask if I fancy one of our friends the next time you're wondering, instead of creating conspiracies in your head."

He nodded, once, and they looked at each other for a moment before Hermione tugged her hand free.

"It's nicer here at night" He said, apparently ready for a change of topic.

"Yeah, it's nice to see everyone, of course, but it's nice to have some space and quiet to ourselves, you know" She felt her flush renew itself as she she acknowledged the fact they were both ignoring, that they were alone together in the middle of the night with a peculiar new energy bubbling up into the background of their friendship. She pushed through. "I'm used to being alone a lot, at home. It was a weird transition to Hogwarts"

"You know i'd never though about that, what it must be like for being who aren't used to being around people and noise and the chaos of a bunch of other stupid little kids running around. That must have been a bloody weird first few weeks."

She laughed "It was an adjustment, that's for sure, but I found it nice once I got used to it." She frowned "I really did think there would be more..." A pause to consider her words "Studious people around, when I got my letter I thought everything finally made sense, and that everyone would be the same as me, but then I got to the Hogwarts.. Well it wasn't what I was expecting"

Ron nodded knowingly "I reckon I was a little more prepared than you, but Fred and George acted like it was their life mission to keep me in the dark about it, and make it sound way worse than it was" He stifled a yawn, which made Hermione suddenly notice just how tired she was, somewhere between first class on a Monday, and 2 am before the last exam, burning eyes and all.

"Maybe we should go to bed" She put forward reluctantly

"Ah the brilliant Hermione Granger, right again." He glanced at the cluttered counter; tins and boxes scattered near the cupboards Hermione had been digging in. "I'll take care of that, you go on up to bed"

"It's my mess!" she protested, punctuated with another yawn. "I can handle it"

"'Mione you don't know where anything goes and you can hardly keep your eyes open. It'll take me two seconds, go to bed."

She hesitated, but he raised his eyebrows at her and said "Are you really going to argue about do more cleaning today? Besides, think of all the essays you've written for me, i'll take care of this."

She considered protesting further, but she really was exhausted. "Ok, well, come get me if you need help... Goodnight Ron."

She made her way to the doorway, looking back at him. He made no move towards the messy counter, but rather leaned against a kitchen chair and gave her a lazy salute. "Goodnight Hermione"

She fell asleep almost as soon as she slipped beneath her sheets, the taste of chocolate on her lips, and the ghost of his thumb brushing along her fingers.