Ronald Weasley had spent the better part of his first real day of Christmas holiday hiding in his father's shed, tinkering with the various Muggle "artifacts" his dad had pilfered from the Ministry over the years. Ron realized that he could very well be in here for days and still find something new and unusual to examine. Not that he was really putting much thought into any of them. He didn't have the same interest in all of this Muggle tecknigology that his father did.

There were some items of interest. He was particularly intrigued (and terrified) by something called "Battleship". After pressing several of the little buttons, there was a sudden, loud explosion, and a man's voice exclaimed that his battleship had been sunk. Ron didn't understand if the strangely shaped box was some sort of wireless, but he decided not to press any more buttons. He didn't want to be held responsible for any explosions. From then on, he stuck to tossing a small green ball against the only tiny expanse of bare wall left in the shed.

Ron chalked his behavior up to boredom. Harry was increasingly obsessed with the Prince's book, and even more convinced that he should inform the Order that Malfoy was indeed the newest junior Death Eater. Unfortunately, Harry had no real proof. In Ron's mind, Draco had always been a tosser, but there were squids with more backbone than Malfoy. It just didn't make any sense for You-Know-Who to count him in as one of his elite henchmen.

Ron would never tell Harry that, of course, not without Hermione to back him up, and she certainly wasn't going to be popping in anytime soon.

Hermione…

At first, Ron had resented her absence. Why did she have to get her knickers all in a twist? He hadn't hidden anything from her…

His blood simmered just thinking about what had started all this. Ginny's outburst had sent his mind reeling, and it was all he could do to pick up the pieces of grey matter he felt spill about the corridor. That night Ron had stayed awake in his dorm bed until the sun rose.

Nothing made sense.

Hermione had snogged Victor Krum. Victor Krum's ruddy Bulgarian lips had touched hers…and Merlin knows what else he'd touched! Hermione had insisted that he was just her friend. Her pen-pal, she had said…Ron realized what an idiot he had been to believe such an underhanded tale. Come to think of it, maybe she had lied about her summer holiday, too. Maybe she had gone to Bulgaria. Maybe Vicky had taken her flying on his brand new, posh broomstick and they had snogged over and over again. He felt a familiar beast awaken inside of him.

'Bloody Ginny! Why couldn't she have kept her bloody mouth shut?'

Ron hurled the ball in aggression, causing it to bounce into several heaps of bolts piled on a nearby table. With a dismal little sigh, he began picking them up one by one.

'I shouldn't even be upset. I'm with Lavender now.'

Ron winced at the thought. Having a girlfriend wasn't all Butterbeer and daisies as he had expected. Sure, being kissed by someone other than his foul Auntie Muriel and his mum—and in a thoroughly different way at that—was brilliant. But Lavender barely allowed him a breath between their snogging sessions, and when their lips weren't hermetically sealed together, he discovered an uncomfortable truth.

Lavender didn't really fancy him.

She liked that he was a Quidditch player (and as it had turned out, a fairly decent one). She was also quite pleased that Ron was related to the twins from whom she ordered a plethora of beauty products off of their new Witches Wear line. Neither of these particulars bothered Ron much. He was used to people admiring his brothers and had grown out of the jealousy he once harbored toward them. Well, mostly.

Ron also resolved that there was nothing terribly wrong with winning a girl over with Quidditch. After all, he had only gathered the courage to show up for Quidditch trials last year partly to impress…a girl….but that didn't matter anymore. Lavender appreciated that Ron was Gryffindor's star Keeper, at present. He was sure that soon enough he'd find a way to botch that up, and she'd chuck him.

He wouldn't mind much if that was all there was to worry about. The one thing Ron had yet to accept about the whole thing was his deepest insecurity as well. As much as Lavender loved the attention she got for dating "Fred and George's little brother", or Ronald Weasley the Quidditch player, she reveled in the fact that her "WonWon" was The Chosen One's best friend.

When he thought about it, Lavender asked Ron about what he and Harry got up to on their "little adventures" more often than she asked him about himself. She didn't even know how many siblings he had. Everyone knew how many siblings he had.

The creaking of the door shocked him back into reality, and the bolts went flying again.
Standing in the doorway was the absolute last person Ron wanted to see. As a matter of fact, he would rather face a pack of wild hippogriffs than stand the scrutiny of the one person who was possibly just as incensed with him as Hermione was.

"Watch it! You almost took my eye out!" Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, making it clear that she had no intention of helping him clean up the mess.

"You're the one who snuck up on me," replied Ron, already red in the face. "What do you want?"

"Mum forced me to come looking for you. She wants you to gather wood for the fire." For a split second, Ginny looked as if she was going to make for the door. Instead she peered at him curiously. "What are you doing lurking about in here anyhow? I'm surprised you aren't inside writing love letters to Lav Lav."

Ron shot to his feet and balled up his fists.

"I-I'm not lurking. And I don't write love letters!"

"Oi! No need to be so defensive," Ginny snapped back. "I can't imagine what you would even talk about. I haven't seen you doing much talking in the last several weeks…"

"Oh, that's really bloody rich coming from you. What do you write to Dean about? Which secret corridor you can snog in next?" Ron spat with scorn. His eyes went cold with anger.

Ginny slammed the door to the shed, and strode up to her brother until there were mere centimetres between them. Ron instinctively retreated a few steps, but held his defensive posture. He glared as menacingly as possible down at Ginny.

"I'm sorry if I don't find it particularly appropriate to force my tongue down someone's throat in the middle of the dining hall!" she shouted loudly enough for everyone in the house to hear.

"No, you just creep about in the shadows. What's the matter, Ginny? Are you ashamed of Dean?" he asked nastily.

Ginny's face fell and tears were brimming about her eyelids. Turning her head away for a moment, she gathered herself. Ron blinked rapidly, his guilt overpowering any resentment he was feeling.

"I have no reason to be ashamed of Dean. If anything, you're the one who should be hanging your head in humiliation. Lavender Brown? Honestly, Ron?"

Ron let out a little scoff of indignation despite the mixed emotions sweeping through him. Ginny simply shook her head in disbelief.

"D'you think you're some big man now that you've snogged someone? You know, at least I have the decency to consider other people's feelings," said Ginny as she turned on her heel and stormed back to the house.

Ron was frozen to the spot. He ran a hand unconsciously under his jumper to touch the tiny trail of red scratches freckling his arm. A cold gust of air wafted in from the doorway, blowing random bits of hair into Ron's eyes. He shook them away, hoping to shake the thoughts from his head as well.

He quickly gathered up the remaining bolts and headed into the frigid dusk. He never understood why he was always the one sent out to do such tedious tasks when he couldn't even properly do magic yet. If Hermione were here, she could easily cast a spell to chop the wood into flawless, uniform logs. He would insist on carrying them all in, of course. She would stubbornly assert that she help, since his gesture would obviously be some sort of subconscious sexist ideology that women shouldn't perform manual labor….

'Blimey, I'm starting to imagine rowing with her! Funny, the things you miss…I'm going mad.'

Ron hated that even while he set about gathering spare bits of wood, Hermione still ran through his mind. She was like a constant drum, beating ever presently in his thoughts.

By now, Ron knew what this fixation meant, but he had conceded defeat. Hermione wasn't the kind of girl that ended up with the likes of blokes like him. She would end up with a chap like Harry. Hell, part of him still believed Harry himself would win her in the end.

They would sit their N.E.. Hermione would pass everything with flying colours, and Harry would finally and miraculously annihilate You-Know-Who. Ron, as expected, would squeak by with a few Acceptables and try not to get murdered while blindly following Harry into whatever hairy situation (no pun intended…on second thought, pun completely intended) his best mate got into next.

The Savior of the Universe and the Brightest Witch of The Age would be offered whatever position they wanted at the Ministry, they'd realise how perfect they were together, and fall in love. They'd have a handsome brood of genius children and ride off into the sodding sunset together. Ron would still be living at The Burrow, working at his brothers' shop and receiving the occasional post from Harry and Hermione about their absolutely blissful life together. The end.

When he finally stalked into the house with a stack of kindling practically to the ceiling, Ron had worked himself into a right strop. At this rate, his entire holiday was going to be ruined if he kept at these thoughts.

'Stop thinking about her! Think about….about Mum's Christmas biscuits.'

Instinctively, his stomach emitted a loud, rolling rumble. Ron figured he might as well nab a few on his way through the kitchen. He noticed his mum was nowhere in sight. Strangely enough, no one was. Shrugging to himself, he maneuvered the wood so that he could free one hand long enough to thrust several biscuits between his lips.

Ron juggled the firewood the rest of the way to the sitting room, where he was surprised to find his missing family members, including Fred and George. The men were dressed in their cloaks, appearing ready to use the Floo. His mum looked anxiety-ridden, and was fervently trying to convince his dad about something or the other. If Ron had learned anything from being friends with Harry, he had learned to pick up on when something was the matter. Setting down his load promptly, he addressed his brothers.

"Whas gon' 'n?" Ron asked through a mouthful of biscuits, causing crumbs to spill all down the front of his jumper.

"Ace move, Ronniekins," George quipped. "What's taken you so long?"

"Yeah, we about left without you. Mum is off her trolley. She's having a go at Dad about us coming along. She must have forgotten all of those O. we were suffered to pass," Fred said in quiet exasperation, rolling his eyes for emphasis.

"Left without me? Where are you going? It's Christmas Eve!" Ron looked around in general confusion. Where was Harry?

"If Ron didn't have his head so far up his arse, he would know what you're talking about..."

Behind the twins, Ginny sat, tugging on her hair with unease similar to their mother's.

"Ginevra, language!" Molly scolded her youngest child perfunctorily, still putting all of her energy into fretting. She returned her attention to her husband. "Arthur, perhaps I should come along, then? I can speak to Jane, ensure that she understands Hermione will be in better hands here."

Ron's head turned so quickly toward his mother he thought it might unhinge from his neck.

"Hermione? What about Hermione? Will someone tell me what's going on!" he exclaimed in frustration.

"Oh, Ron, do keep your voice down. Harry mustn't hear. I thought you might still be out in the yard," Molly said soothingly.

Arthur took a few steps toward his son and rested a warm hand on Ron's shoulder. He was trying to reassure him with this gesture, but Arthur's face was an unconvincing contrast.

"Son, the Order informed us tonight of rumours that Death Eaters have planned a series of attacks on Muggleborn homes in the coming days. The rumours have yet to be unfounded, and we can't take any chances," he sighed deeply. "Our best bet is to relocate families to safe houses with magical protection or, at the very least, another relative's home."

Ron gaped at him with an expression of disgust and disbelief.

"They-they were waiting to do this so the students would be away from Hogwarts…with their families."

Arthur nodded grimly and patted Ron gently on the cheek. "Not to worry. We're headed over there straight-away. I want you and Harry to stay right here with your Mum and Ginny. There's no telling if You-Know-Who's lot will make any attempts tonight."

As his father turned toward Molly once again to set her mind at rest, Ron scrunched up his brow and took heaving breathes.

"No," Ron said firmly, making himself a wall between his father and the fireplace. They all looked at him startled.

"Ronald," Molly started cautiously, "what the Heavens are you doing?"

Ginny turned on him, astonished.

"I know you've had row with her, Ron, but her family is in danger! Don't be such a selfish twat!" she gesticulated wildly with her hands. "Yeah, yeah…I know! Language!"

Ron faltered, blinking rapidly and glowing an upsetting shade of crimson. He was overcome with shame that his sister would think so lowly of him. Had he really been acting like that much of a wanker?

"Of course that's not what I meant!" Ron straightened his back, pushing out his upper body. "I-I'm coming with. I don't care if I have to Apparate over there behind you!"

"You will do no such thing, young man!" Molly barked at him severely. "Arthur, tell him."

Arthur's eyes volleyed from his wife's stern face to his son's desperate but stanch expression. He struggled to answer until Ron spoke up again.

"Dad, I know the risks. I won't get in your way. I just need to be sure she's alright. And I know Hermione; she won't leave her parents unless she's absolutely convinced they're out of harm's way. She'll need a friend to persuade her."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Ginny scoffed.

"Then, I should go. She'll likely hex you on the spot," she remarked glibly.

Ron had enough. He rounded on his sister yet again.

"Stuff it, Ginny. She can set the canaries on me again! I don't care! I have to make sure she's alright."

"Canaries?" George questioned. "She set canaries on you? That's a new one."

"Nice touch," Fred agreed.

"ENOUGH!" Molly's reproach silenced them all at once. "You aren't going anywhere, Ginny. If you would like to help, go distract Harry, please."

Fred and George snickered.

"That'll be a tough one…" Fred muttered beneath his breath.

"You two," Molly emphasized with a tug on each of their cloaks, "will watch after Ron and Hermione. Bring each of them back here by Side-Along Apparition as soon as everything has been sorted."

Ron perked up.

"Does this mean I can go?" he asked hopefully.

Molly and Arthur exchanged a silent, knowing glance. She gave him a curt nod.

"Yes, but you must stay with Fred and George at all times. No running off, no matter what happens," his father commanded firmly.

Ron gave his promise and watched as his father tossed powder into the hearth of the now accommodating fireplace.

"So, Ron and Hermione have a big blow out? You must tell us all the gory details when we get back…" Fred was directing his question at Ginny like Ron wasn't dead in front of him.

Ron shot lasers at Fred while heading into the enlarged fireplace himself. As he shouted his destination, he could have sworn he made out his mother chiming in with words that sounded suspiciously like "young love".

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Sorry for the long wait for Chapter 2. The next two chapters will be up rapid-fire, I promise.

I must admit, I started writing this fic after listening to the song "The Space Between" by Dave Matthews Band. Each chapter will be inspired from different lines, and most likely the chapter title will give which one away. (So original of me, right?)

I very much meant to put this on the first chapter...Much appreciation to my brilliant beta, TMBlue. If you haven't read her stories yet, you're missing out on some of 's gems! Thank you for encouraging me to do this. :)