Molly Weasley dropped Ron's laundry basket of clean clothes in the middle of his room with a loud thud before clearing her throat. "Ronnie, you know how I feel about those," she chastised, pointing to his posters of bikini-clad women on the wall.

Ron, who was sprawled out on his bed with a sports magazine, full from dinner half an hour before, lowered it to his chest with a sigh. "Aw, Mum! Those posters were a gift to me from Dave! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't hang them up?"

His mum crossed her arms. "It's not right! You are objectifying women by having pictures of them almost- almost nude on your wall! You are sixteen years old-"

"Sixteen and a half," Ron cut in.

"And I have tried to instill a sense of respect for women in all of my sons-"

Ron let out a shocked gasp, feigning hurt. "Disrespecting women? Mum, I would never!" He sat up, pointing to one poster of a woman in an alluring pose on the roof of a red sports car. She had a sponge in her hand, and both she and the car were covered in bubbly suds. "See her right there?" he asked. "That's Daniella. It looks to me like she's doing a stupendous job of cleaning that car, and it only makes sense that she's wearing a bikini! Bathing suits are proper car-cleaning attire, you know."

"How does Hermione feel about you having these posters in your room?" his mum countered. "I bet she's not a fan of them either."

Ron paused. "She hasn't said anything to me about them," he replied in a slow voice.

"Is all well between you two again?" she pressed. "Does she still have that boyfriend of hers?"

Ron's jaw clenched, but he tried to force his face to remain neutral. "Yes, mum, all is well. And yeah, she's still with him. Over at his flat right now, actually."

"Oh Ronnie," Mrs. Weasley said in a sympathetic voice. "I'm sure she's just-"

"No need to feel sorry for me," he cut in, not even remotely ready to have such a discussion with his mother. "Hermione can date whoever she wants to. It doesn't matter to me at all."

"Maybe if you told her how you felt-"

Ron tossed the magazine down on his bed in frustration. "I said I don't care!" he snapped, instantly regretting his words at the wounded look on his mum's face. He sighed. "Sorry. Didn't mean to jump down your throat."

His mum gave him a small smile. "It's okay. I know how hard it is to talk about your feelings with your parents." Ron put his hands over his eyes and groaned. "But you know I'll be here if you ever need to talk," she finished.

"Thanks, but no thanks," Ron grumbled through his hands, his face hot to the touch.

"Now. You best get to work putting these clothes away," she demanded, Ron moving his hands to see her pointing to the laundry basket she'd brought in.

Ron stood up, happy to see her turning around and retreating before closing the door behind her. He'd always despised it when various members of his family would pull the 'just talk to Hermione and tell her how you feel' card. Nothing positive could come out of a true heart to heart talk, Ron was sure.

He was a realist. He'd spent numerous hours playing all the different scenarios in his head, and they all ended the same. None of them were a 'and they lived happily ever after', no matter which way he spun it. For one, he doubted Hermione would ever see him as anything other than a friend, but even if she somehow miraculously did, he just wasn't in her league. He never would be, and there was no way around that-no matter how much he wanted there to be.

Standing up, he angrily tossed a pair of rolled up socks into his top drawer, all his negative feelings accumulating. Why couldn't his family just mind their own damn business? He opened the door to his closet, throwing a few shirts inside, not bothering to hang them up. Even though he'd outwardly denied his feelings for Hermione hundreds of times, no one seemed to believe his lies. What was it? Was he unknowingly walking around with a big sign on his forehead that read 'I'm in love with Hermione Granger'? Was he that bloody obvious? It was aggravating as hell, and he wished no one would even bother saying anything.

Trying to cool off and not wanting to get too upset, Ron forced his train of thought to Hermione. He wondered if she was currently having fun with Cormac, and shamefully hoped she wasn't. Ron had been over at her house earlier that day, and although she had left to go to Cormac's flat, she hadn't seemed too thrilled at the prospect of going

In fact, to Ron's immense pleasure, this whole last week Hermione had been spending more time with him than with her git of a boyfriend. He suspected that the party she'd been to last Saturday had gone awful, and though she hadn't told him as much, Ron knew Hermione, and knew that something had been bothering her. He'd tried to pinpoint a certain time frame, and found that her attitude about her boyfriend had been less than positive since coming home from the party.

As much as he'd wanted to pry, to offer to kick Cormac's ass if he'd done anything to hurt her, Ron had made a promise to himself to back away from Hermione's relationship and not ask her any questions. It was hard, but he'd held true to his promise, knowing it was better that way for both their sakes. Hermione seemed to think the same, because she never openly volunteered any information to him. In fact, she never even brought up Cormac at all, the only exception being letting Ron know if she was going to be gone so Ron wouldn't make plans with her.

Deep in thought, Ron almost missed the sound of the door opening, and when he looked up he was surprised to see Hermione walking into his room and closing the door behind her. She said nothing, but he could tell by the look on her face that something had happened and that she was internally figuring out how to tell him about whatever it was.

"Hey," he drawled as he tossed his underwear into a drawer before turning to her. "What's up? I thought you were going to be at Cormacs for a while?"

Hermione sighed, looking relieved that she hadn't had to start the conversation. "I left." Ron said nothing as she crawled into his bed under the covers before flopping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. When Ron stayed silent, Hermione continued. "And I won't be going over there again because we broke up," she finished in a flat, unemotional voice.

Ron had to physically stop himself from making any kind of audible noise. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying as hard as he could not to let the feeling of elation he felt show on his face.

"Oh," he managed to say, his voice coming out hoarse. "Why?"

Hermione turned on her side to face him. "Doesn't matter. It's over."

Ron studied Hermione, trying to gauge her. To his relief, she didn't seem upset. If Ron had to guess, he would even say she was pretty damn content about it all. However, he didn't want to fuck up and say anything to upset her, so he tread carefully by walking over and sitting on the edge of his bed. He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Hermione gave him a smile. "Yes, Ron. I'm fine. Really."

Trying not to grin from ear to ear, Ron lifted the covers and crawled into the bed next to her before pulling her to him. After a moment she sniffed, and he panicked, wondering if he'd done something wrong or if he'd read her wrong and she was actually upset about the breakup.

"It's okay," Hermione assured, her voice muffled by his shirt. "I'm not crying because of him. It's just that you haven't hugged me like this in weeks."

Ron closed his eyes, trying to shove his own emotions down and focus on her. "You had a boyfriend, Hermione. I didn't think I was allowed," he said in a raspy voice.

"I missed you."

"I never left."

"I mean, I missed you like this."

Ron smiled. "Ah. So you mean you missed being wrapped up in my strong and manly arms?" he teased before letting out a high-pitched squeal as Hermione pinched him on his side.

"What was it you said about being manly?" she asked with a giggle.

"Every man has his weakness," he said with a chuckle.

And it was true. Every man did have his weakness, and Ron just happened to be holding his in his arms.

He cleared his throat. "Are you really okay?"

Hermione nodded. "I am. I already told you I wasn't in love with him." She paused. "And to tell you the truth, he really is a git."

Ron laughed. "Damn, it feels so good to hear you say that."

She groaned. "I feel like such an idiot for even going out with him in the first place! What was I thinking?"

"You live and you learn," Ron assured her. "And Hermione?" he added, hesitant.

"Mmm?"

"I hope you know that you're not any less because you- I mean, since you were with him, uhm- like that. I know you are probably the type to- I guess- take physical things more seriously than I am, and-"

Hermione pulled her head back to look at him, a smile on her face. "Wow, Ron. You really have a way with words."

He let out a loud breath. "Bloody hell, Hermione! I'm trying here!"

She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I know. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he whispered, running his thumb down the side of her face, watching as her eyes fluttered shut at the action.

Oh, how he loved her, how he loved being with her like this. Even if it would never be enough.

"Cormac's not the person I want," Hermione said in a soft voice, her eyes still closed. "Not even near it."

Ron pulled her closer, nuzzling his nose into the hair at the top of her head. "Good. Don't worry though, Hermione. One day you'll find someone. Some charming bloke who will come along and sweep you off your feet." He grimaced at the mental image of that scenario. "Not that any guy will be worthy of you, mind- no matter how bloody charming he is."

"Stop putting me on a pedestal, Ronald!" Hermione admonished, now sounding annoyed.

He smiled. "Can't help it."

"Well, start, because it's ridiculous," she huffed. "I'm no more special than anyone else."

Ron's reply was cut short by the door flying open. George walked into the room, a large cardboard box in his arms. At the sight of Ron and Hermione in bed, he shook his head. "Please tell me you two are fully clothed under that blanket," he said with a grimace, though his eyes were twinkling with amusement.

Ron threw the blanket off of them and sat up, running his hand through his hair. "How come nobody in this house gives me an ounce of privacy?" he grumbled.

George ignored Ron's question and bent down, setting the box on the floor. "Just some stuff Fred and I are willing to part with," he said in a cheerful voice. "Figured you might like it, Ronniekins."

Hermione sat up as well. "Ron told me you were moving out, George. That's exciting."

"Indeed, it is Hermione," George replied, a smile on his face. "Did my little brother also mention that we put a down payment on a shop?"

"Yes, he did," Hermione answered, grabbing Ron's hand and giving it a squeeze. "I'm happy for the both of you."

Ron resisted rolling his eyes, and George turned to him, a smirk on his lips. "Hermione is proud of us, Ronniekins. Why can't you be?"

"I am," Ron retorted in a dry voice. "I'm the proudest person on the damn planet. Can you go now?"

"Actually," Hermione said, standing up and straightening her shirt and jeans. "It's getting pretty late, and I'd better head home. It's been a long day."

"Pulley?" Ron asked, his attention now off of his brother. He wasn't ready for Hermione to leave yet, but he also knew it was getting late and his mum would send her home soon, anyway.

George chuckled, and without another word, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the box behind.

"Yeah," Hermione said once George was gone. "We can write, but only for a bit. It really has been a long day."

Ron stood up, pulling her into a hug. "You're really okay?" he asked again, wanting to make sure.

"I already told you I am, Ron."

"Good." He smiled. "And also- Good fucking riddance!"

Hermione gave him a playful shove, effectively breaking their hug.

"Oi! Just telling the truth!"

With a laugh, Hermione turned and walked out of his room. Smiling, Ron walked over and opened his curtains, his eyes on her window as he waited.

oOo

Four months later

oOo

"Okay," Hermione said as she sat down on her bedroom floor and got into the first pose. "This is called 'The easy pose', or, the sukhasana," she explained as she sat cross-legged, her legs folded up, her back straight. Once in position, she stared up at him with an expectant look.

It was Saturday, and the Grangers were at work, leaving Ron and Hermione blissfully alone at her home. Ron let out a sigh before dropping to the floor as well. "Only for you, Hermione Granger," he muttered under his breath, causing her to smile. He tried to mimic her position, but with his legs and feet so much larger than hers, he was having trouble getting it right. "It's not bloody possible!" he exclaimed with a huff.

Shaking her head, Hermione untangled her legs and crawled over so she was sitting on her knees in front of him. She reached down and moved his sock-clad feet into position, her small, perfect hands entirely too close to his crotch as she did so. Ron felt his body starting to react and decided that his thin basketball shorts had been an awful idea.

Closing his eyes, he imagined himself covered in spiders, and to his relief, the randy thoughts disappeared and he let out a breath. Luckily, Hermione finished after only a few seconds, and Ron opened his eyes to see her sitting back, a satisfied look on her face as she stared at his now oddly twisted legs.

"You know," he started. "When you sent me a note this morning saying 'Come over and wear loose, comfortable clothing,' yoga wasn't exactly what I thought you had in mind."

Hermione, now back in position, her eyes closed, opened them to look at him. "What did you think I had in mind?" she asked.

Ron shrugged. "Oh, I dunno. Maybe something a little more...pleasurable," he teased, raising one eyebrow.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, but he saw the corners of her mouth twitch. "Yoga is pleasurable, Ron. And straighten your spine," she snapped, but there was no real bite behind her demand.

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he complied. "You know how I love it when you boss me around."

She laughed. "Shut it."

Ron smirked, but said nothing.

"Okay. So this position really opens up the hips, and-"

"Opens up the hips? Maybe I can like yoga, after all," he cut in.

Hermione huffed. "Can you take anything seriously, Ron?"

"Fiiiinneeee. I'll be serious."

"Ok. So keep your spine straight. Fold your arms like so, and close your eyes."

Ron did as instructed, and they sat together in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the calming music from some yoga CD that Hermione had popped into her small stereo right before they'd started.

After about thirty seconds, Ron cracked one eye open to look at Hermione, his face breaking out into a grin at the sight of her. Her eyes were closed, her brow wrinkled as if she were thinking about something of utmost importance. She was wearing a teeny pair of elastic shorts and a tank top, and Ron had to admit he was thoroughly enjoying the view.

"Hermione," he whispered, causing her to open her eyes and look at him. "My legs are going numb."

She let out a breath, her body relaxing as she fell out of the pose. "Alright. Let's move on, then," she said.

Ron untangled his legs, stretching them out in front of him with a loud groan.

"Drama queen," Hermione said as she stood up, rolling her eyes. "Ok. You don't need to do this one, but you need to help me. All you have to do is hold me steady."

Ron jumped up, eager to help. He, of course, was eager to touch whatever part of her she needed him to.

Hermione came over and stood right in front of him. "It's not difficult. I just need you to support me while I get into a bridge position."

"Er.."

She laughed, taking his hands in hers. "Just keep your hands on my waist and lower back," she instructed as she pulled his arms around and placed his hands where she needed them to be. "I'm going to lean back, so just make sure I don't fall over."

"You trust me?" he teased.

"Of course I do, Ron," she scoffed. "What a silly question."

Ron felt warmth course through him at her words. He kept his hands around her waist, his fingers sprawled out on the small of her back, one finger just skimming under the bottom of her tank top and touching bare skin.

Hermione then stretched her arms up and leaned back, the action causing the front of her lower body to press against his thighs. She kept going until her hands reached the yoga mat, her body now in a perfect arch.

Ron looked down and took in the sight, biting his lower lip to stop a groan from escaping his throat. His hands instinctively gripped her harder, his eyes roaming over the exposed skin of her stomach before moving to the bottom curves of her tits. He felt like a total perv ogling her like this, while she was doing yoga, of all things, but then again, he wasn't willing to look away.

He regretted this decision when he felt himself start to grow hard. Panicking, Ron slammed his eyes shut, trying to think of something else- of anything else, but his randy mind only conjured up images of other activities he could be doing with his hands wrapped around Hermione like this.

He was in big trouble.

Thankfully, because Hermione was so much shorter than he was, she wasn't able to feel anything, but when she stood up…

Fuck.

"Okay," Hermione said, her voice strained. "If you could-"

Ron didn't wait for her to finish her sentence, one of his arms swooping down and pulling her back upright while making sure to keep his hips away from her. Before she could notice his raging hard-on, Ron turned and dove to her bed, throwing her blanket over his body. When he was certain he was safe, he turned his head to see Hermione giving him an odd look.

"Was that too hard for you, Ron?" she teased.

If Ron wasn't so anxious, he would have laughed at her wording. "Nah," he said. "Just give me a mo'. I think I pulled something."

"From lifting me up?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm pretty sure it's from that damn first pose. Long legs like mine definitely aren't supposed to bend that way."

Hermione smiled. "Like I said earlier- drama queen." She sat on the floor and started stretching her legs, letting out little sighs that did the exact opposite to help his situation.

Was she trying to torture him?

Spiders. Spiders. Spiders. Spiders.

Dammit. Even the thought of spiders wasn't helping. Not when she was wearing those bloody spandex shorts. Honestly, they were more like knickers than shorts. It wasn't his fault he was having a reaction.

"Hermione?" he croaked, trying to sound pathetic.

"Yes?" she answered, looking up.

"Could you go get me some water? Pretty please?"

"I have a glass right there," Hermione replied, gesturing to her water on top of the dresser as she continued to stretch.

Ron gulped. "But the ice has melted."

She stopped again to look up at him. "So you're saying you want me to stop what I'm doing and walk all the way downstairs to get you a fresh glass of water?"

He nodded. "With extra ice."

"Fine," she said as she stood up. "But you owe me."

Ron shot her a lopsided grin. "Of course."

Once Hermione had left her room, Ron lifted the blanket and looked down at the shape of his treacherous body part. "Listen, mate. You're going to need to calm the fuck down," he whispered. "Trust me, you're not going to be getting any from her." He paused before letting out a sigh. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I want her too. Well- at least I want her for more reasons than you want her for, but I reckon we feel about the same." He looked towards the door, listening to hear if Hermione was coming back up the stairs. "Ok. How about this? If you behave for the rest of the day, I promise I'll give you a nice wank when we get home, alright? Can you play it cool until then?"

Ron put the covers down, satisfied that his talk had seemed to work- at least for the time being. He then started to laugh at himself at how ridiculous the whole thing was, and when Hermione walked back into the room a minute later, a glass of ice water in hand, he was still chuckling.

"Here you go, your highness," she said as she handed it to him. "What's so funny?"

Ron took a few sips before leaning over and setting the cup on her nightstand. "Nothing important. So. Shall we continue?"

Instead of answering, Hermione pulled up the covers and crawled into bed with him, nuzzling her head into his chest. "I think I'm done with yoga for the day, actually. Just feel like being lazy."

"Oh," Ron smiled, wrapping his arms around her. "I must say, this is much better."

"You've always loved to cuddle," Hermione mused. "I remember the first time you suggested the idea. I thought you were barmy."

Ron laughed. "Yeah. What were we? Like twelve?"

"I was thirteen. You were twelve."

"See? Even as a young lad I knew what I was talking about."

Hermione nodded. "It's scientific as well. Cuddling eases stress by releasing oxytocin and serotonin."

Ron kissed the top of her head. "I love it when you talk science, Hermione."

Hermione laughed. "It's true! I've read about it before! And because cuddling reduces stress, it's also good for the heart."

Ron threw his head back and laughed. "Hermione, you know you're bloody adorable, right? You're like my own little encyclopedia."

Hermione ignored him as she continued. "Cuddling can help with anxiety, and it also boosts sexu-" She stopped talking, and Ron felt her stiffen.

He looked down at her, a smirk on his face. "Oh no. Don't stop now, Hermione. Please. Do go on."

She paused for a moment before saying in her most matter-of-fact voice. "And it also boosts sexual satisfaction."

Ron pursed his lips, his eyes going to the ceiling. "Hm," he hummed. "Interesting. I guess I'll just have to take your word on that one."

"Are you telling me you've never cuddled with other girls?" Hermione asked in an incredulous voice, and when Ron again looked down at her, her face was wrinkled in confusion.

He shook his head. "No. Can't say I have. Quick shags at parties rarely lead to cuddling."

Hermione grinned, a wide, pleased smile. "I'm really the only girl you have ever cuddled with?"

Ron leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "Yup. Does that surprise you?"

"It does." She picked up Ron's hand and lazily laced her fingers with his. "I'm flattered."

"Weird. I thought you were Hermione."

She laughed, and before Ron could say anything else, his stomach gave a loud rumble.

"Come on," she said, patting his belly. "Let's get you some food."

"You sure know the way to a man's heart," Ron joked as they sat up and made their way downstairs.

Hermione ordered Ron to sit at the kitchen table, and he complied. She then went to the fridge and pulled out a large bowl and brought it to the table along with two bowls and two forks.

Ron looked into the bowl, wrinkling his nose. "Salad?"

She shrugged. "It's healthy."

"Food is food, I guess," he grumbled, taking his bowl and filling it to the brim.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts before Hermione spoke.

"Ron, you're so special to me. You know that, right?"

Ron froze, his fork hovering in midair as he looked across at her. "Yeah. You're special to me too, Hermione." He paused, lowering his fork, "But why the random declaration?"

She shrugged. "Not every guy would willingly do yoga or eat something he wasn't particularly fond of without complaint."

"I complained a little," he reminded her.

"I'm serious," she went on after a small laugh. "You've really matured lately. I mean- you're still you… but you've changed."

"Changed? How so?"

"Well-" She shifted in her chair. "You pay attention. You know sometimes even before I do if I'm too tired, or stressed, or not taking care of myself, and then you swoop right in and alert me to this.

Ron arched an eyebrow. "And I haven't always been like that?"

"Oh no, you have. It's just that lately it's been amplified. And we haven't had a row in months. In short, you've been so good to me ever since…" she trailed off, but Ron knew what she'd been about to say.

He reached his hand across the table and took one of hers. "I just want to make you happy, Hermione. It's just the older I get, the more I realize that." For some reason, Hermione looked sad at his words. Ron gave her hand a squeeze. "What's wrong?"

"I guess nothing is wrong. We're just growing up and… things are a lot more complicated than they used to be."

Ron let out a breath. "Yeah. Tell me about it."

Hermione straightened up, seemingly eager to change the subject. "So. Your birthday is in two months. What do you want to do to celebrate?"

He thought about it. "I dunno. Don't care, really. Just want to spend it with you."

oOo

The rest of the day flew by, consisting of more attempted yoga (in which they both ended up sprawled out on the floor laughing together after giving up on trying the more difficult poses) two and a half movies, and a delivery of two large pizzas that Ron insisted on due to the salad not filling him up 'properly'.

Originally, Ron had planned on going to the party at Dave's that night, but when the time came when he was supposed to leave, he decided to skip it so he could spend time with Hermione- something that was growing more and more common recently.

Finally, when Hermione started to look knackered, Ron told her goodnight before heading to his house. Once home, he took a nice, long shower, giving himself the wank that he'd promised earlier, before stepping out and dressing in pyjamas. The entire day had been so much fun, and he couldn't stop smiling like a lovesick fool.

Still feeling giddy, he walked into his room, his eyes going straight across to Hermione's window. He saw she was still awake, and in her pyjamas as well. Ron watched as she straightened her room, her lips moving as she did so. She was either talking or singing to herself- Ron wasn't sure which- but either way, he found it cute and it made him chuckle. It only took Hermione about a minute or so for her to notice that she was being watched, and when she realized, her face split into a grin and she walked over and opened the window, sending him a note.

Spying on me?

Guilty.

What's so interesting about me straightening my room?

I thought you were going to bed.

You're deflecting. And I sleep better if everything is in its rightful place.

Were you singing a song, or just talking to yourself?

Guess you'll never know.

The mystery will torture me forever, I suppose.

Do you want me to feel sorry for you?

Yes.

Right. Should have known.

I had a lot of fun today.

I did too.

But you know what part I liked the most?

Eating the salad?

Ha. Ha. No. It was the cuddling.

Again. I should have known.

You're slacking on knowing things, Hermione.

Maybe my brain is too full from taking so many classes?

It makes sense.

I was thinking of getting a job as well…

WHAT?! You can't be serious!

There's an opening at the university bookstore.

Don't you already have enough on your plate? You're already a full-time student, Hermione. Bloody hell!

I can handle it.

Of course you can. You can do anything. But be warned because I'm going to be forced to look after you even more closely now. I can't have you neglecting your meals or any of that nonsense.

Ok. I can handle that too. You'll be my keeper.

You'll be my number one priority.

No. School should be your number one priority.

Ha.

No, really! If you'd just apply yourself, Ron, you'd do really well. You're one hundred percent capable.

I'll keep that in mind.

Good. Now I'm going to get to bed. For real this time.

Alright. Sweet dreams Hermione Granger.

Sweet dreams for you as well, Ronald Weasley.