Throughout dinner, Ron and Hermione sat beside one another, their elbows brushing and trying to avoid the cold glare from Percy. After the dirty dishes had flown into the sink to begin washing themselves, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Harry, Percy George and Mr and Mrs Weasley sat around the smoking fire and lost themselves in their own conversations.

Ginny and Harry had entangled themselves into the same squishy armchair, whispering loudly and sharing fits of private laughter. Mr Weasley and Percy were discussing some unknown matter at the Ministry, Mrs Weasley glazed blankly into the fire and George tried to explain a new range of products for the joke shop to Ron, but Ron wasn't listening, Hermione sat beside him trying to read, and Ron's fingers were rubbing against hers.

When the clock chimed for ten o'clock, Percy rose, looking down at his own watch for re-assurance.

"Must go, Audrey will be wondering where I am and I have been asked to come in especially early to work tomorrow," Percy puffed out his chest and arched his neck towards the ceiling. Ginny paused and turned to Ron to share a mocking grin.

He swept around the room, saying goodbyes and promising to return in the coming week.

After patting his father on the shoulder, who was snoring loudly in his armchair he turned and walked briskly out the door.

Not long after, Ginny rose, yawning saying she was going to bed and dandled up the stairs. Harry played of chess with George, but after losing poorly three times in a row the said good night and nearly ran upstairs.



Two hours later, George stood up the stretched. "Well this is a boring lot" he said, looking around at dozing Arthur, Mrs Weasley knitting, Hermione reading and Ron starring into the fire.

He said goodnight and goodbyes then walked out of the house.

The fire crackled, the clock ticked and a strange bird sung an eerie tune outside the window. Midnight came and passed, Mrs Weasley tugged an unwanted pair of boots by the back door to get another log for the fire and to lock up the last of the chickens, before going upstairs herself. They heard her bedroom door shut and Hermione put her book down, hanging it open on the arm of the couch.

"We should probably go to bed soon," she whispered, looking over at Mr Weasley, his glasses where askew and a trail of drool ran down his chin.

Ron and Hermione walked up the stair, taking each step together, their side touching, their fingers entwined.

On the first floor, Hermione stopped outside Ginny's bedroom door. To continue the charade of their relationship being nothing more than friends, she still shared Ginny's room, though there were quite enough spare bedrooms in the house, Hermione had decided to stay, after being persuaded by Ginny that it was somebody watching her back when she disappeared to the seventh floor there was more of a chance that Ginny would have her back too, and after the last three months of living in the Burrow, Hermione had become a very convincing liar. The story the two girls had the rest of the family believing was that Hermione was only staying until her parents returned and therefore had no need for having her own bedroom. Harry still shared with Ron, but he was telling Mrs. Weasley each time 

she insisted that he moved into another bedroom was that he had never had the experience of having to share a bedroom and this might be his only chance, but Hermione guessed that he and Ginny had the same idea of shared bedrooms, but Ginny had never said much about Harry's plans.

Ron sighed and looked down at Hermione's silhouette, pleading into the darkness

"Tonight?" He asked softly, "Mum will never know" But Hermione shook her head "Harry wouldn't say anything, he owes me too much already,"

Hermione laughed quietly but still turned the door-handle behind her back.

"Goodnight," She whispered, blowing him a kiss out the door, but Ron stepped inside and kissed her gently, "Goodnight" His blue eyes twinkled, he dug his hands into his pockets and walked slowly up the stairs.

Slowly Hermione undressed and climbed into bed, but before she turned the bedside lamp off, there was a soft tap on her door, Hermione pulled her dressing gown on.

"Harry's bolted the door again" Ron whispered mischievously as Hermione opened the door to let him in, he glanced over at Ginny's empty bed, smiling slightly.

Hermione blinked several times then turned the key in the lock.

"What's wrong with that," She turned quietly and turned off the remanding light in the bed room.



On the small square of parchment, I began writing. My scrawl was nothing compared to the elegant handwriting she had, but I held the quill cautiously, and with my tough between my teeth, I began choosing words carefully.

I began with her name, and what a beautiful name it was, she was the only person I knew by that name, the nib scratched into the parchment, ink came out like a long black ribbon. I paused, for years I had dreamt of writing to her, but now that the time had arose my intestines had twisted together, what would she say when she found my letter in the coming morning. I lay down the quill, and looked into my candle.

The warm flame made my eyes hurt, but I continued to stare, then I looked down. Leaning against the candle stick was a crumpled photo, a black and white newspaper clipping.

A crowd of people stood in front of the majestically crumpled gate of Hogwarts, but they were just blurred faces. The only four in focus were standing in the centre, arms hanging over each other's shoulders. She stood with her friends, her "best friends" she had called them.

Harry stood to her right, making him almost the centre of the photo, his arm was around two women, but his arm only hung loosely over Hermione's shoulder, his other arm was clinging around the waist of a tall skinny girl, she smiled broadly and her eyes twinkled. Harry was no threat to me, he and Hermione was only friends, unless he was lying about his relationship with the other girl, but I didn't think he was.

Second from the left was my love, my Hermione, the most beautiful person in the whole world, and had had my share of beautiful women, but she was the most. She lent gracefully against the cumbering pillar, uncountable ringlet's cascaded down her shoulders and though 

the blacks, whites and grey of the photograph gave her no justice but I knew her brown eyes would be shinning with the cunning wit that I loved.

She was wearing a shorter skirt than I had last seen her wear, but the last skirt I had seen her in was a school skirt and therefore forgave her, her shirt hung loose, and was almost transparent in certain places.

But around her waist, I despised to look at. Two long arms, long lanky arms wrapped around her waist, one palm slowly stroking the fabric across her lower ribs.

The rest of the photo had been destroyed on a night not unlike this night, just as cold and wet, I had skilfully burnt away the photo of that stupid, pin headed, stupid, stupid man, no, he is no more man than that candle stick, oh how I make myself laugh.

He was the only thing that really stood between me and a beautifully happy life. Surly she could not love him, because she would have broken her word and she would never do that to me, not after what we shared.

I looked back down at the hands, the arms and the shrivelled ash that was the final remains of him in this photo. But burning a photo did nothing to help win my goal; I had burn him, not just his face in photographs, but burn it off his very face, the face from his head, and when that was finished my Hermione would be mine.

I ran my fingers though my hair, I couldn't wait for her to run her fingers though it again, oh how I waited for the soft touch of her skin.

I picked up the quill again...

Ron woke with sunlight streaming across his face, a mess of thick, bushy brown hair lay on his chest, one of his long arms wrapped around her and her hand, tiny compared to Ron's, rested on his broad shoulders. Hermione breathed deeply, her cheek rising and falling with Ron's own breathing. He stroked the hair away from her face.

He watched her eye's flicker under her closed lids. Ron traced her eyes brow, down her nose and gently across her pale lips, Ron gently kissed her cheek, Hermione stirred and blinked up him, making her brown eyes glisten.

Ron could help but smile, he lent closer to her and she tilted towards him, closing their eyes...

"Ginny, Hermione, are you awake?"

Mrs. Weasley's shrill voice broke the tranquil mornings silence as the handle of the locked door began to rattle.

Ron jumped up, and scurried to the wardrobe, trying to be as quiet as possible, but he still managed to stub his toe on the end of Ginny's bed, swearing under his breath, he shut himself inside. Hermione pulled on her dressing gown and pulled the covers down on Ginny's previously made bed, before unlocking the door.

Mrs. Weasley stood on the small landing, a tray of mismatched teacup and a steaming kettle hovered at her elbow as she rummaged through a thick wad of letters.



"I'm sure there's something in here for you dear" she muttered as she dropped a thick envelope addressed to Harry stamped by the Ministry. Mrs. Weasley pulled two envelopes from her pile and handed them to Hermione who poured herself a cup of tea.

"And is Ginny up yet dear, I have a letter about that Quidditch team that she tried out for or something" Mrs. Weasley waved a slightly pink envelope before Hermione as her cheeks reddened.

"Oh, um, I think Ginny went for a walk, she wasn't here when I woke up" she said in a small voice.

Mrs Weasley glanced over Hermione's shoulder, to make sure her daughter wasn't still asleep but when she saw the empty bed, she shuffled back to the stairs muttering about untrustworthy teenagers.

Hermione watched her leave and waited for the sound of her reaching the second floor before she let Ron out of the wardrobe. He fell onto her shoulders stretching his and rubbing the crick in his neck.

"And I thought Ginny was mad asking for a bigger wardrobe" Ron laughed.

Hermione smiled, but then paused and looked up towards the ceiling.

"Ron! Ginny!"

"What?"

"Ginny!"



Ron looked around the room, and then slowly and sarcastically said "She's not here" Before grinning broadly. Hermione didn't smile.

"Ron! Harry and Ginny!"

Ron paused again, then his face lit up.

"Ha! I knew there was more going on than "just talking"" Ron laughed and punched the air, "Harry wouldn't tell me anything about...urgh Ginny" Ron blinked and shook his head trying to forget the images. Hermione folded her arms.

"Yes yes, I've known for ages, Ginny told me months ago, now will you listen-"

"What? Ginny told you everything... sorry" he muttered looked at Hermione's face.

"Ron! Your mum-"

"No!" Ron said firmly, "Don't say anything about my parent's se-"

"Ron!" Hermione growled "Listen, your mum is going up there right now"

"Caught in the act... ooh she's gonna kill them... what?" Hermione's hands were on her hips.

"We can't let them get caught, they're our friends"

"So, like they'd do anything for us! What?"

"What would your mum say if she found Ginny asleep in Harry's and your room?"

"She'd tell Harry to- sorry"

"She would ask where the hell were you?"

"Nah, she'd get pissed- sorry" Ron looked down at his odd socks.



"Ron" Hermione said calmly, stepping forward and unclenching her fists, then took Ron's hands.

"if they get caught, then she'll send chuck Harry out, and you'd know he'd hate that, then if she guessed where you were then she'll send me home, and I know you'd hate that..." she looked up at Ron, she blinked slowly, pleading silently.

Then Ron dropped her hands "we can't let that happen," he said slowly, before grabbing his wand and twisting on the spot, dissapparing with a crack.

Hermione sunk into her bed, her heart floating in her throat, slowly sipping her tea. Between her fingers she turned the first envelope over and broke the seal. Three pages were folded inside, six side all covered with her mother's untidy handwriting. She skimmed over the pages. The highlight's of their "trip" to Australia was repeated over the first two pages, the possibility of finding a designer dress in a discount basket was on page three, her father's health was mention halfway down the fourth page and the rest was ranting on about Hermione's apparently none existent love life and flight attendant that Mrs. Granger had told all about her beautiful daughter. Then squeezed into the last paragraph was "Did I mention that we want you for lunch on Thursday, we'll talk more then."

Hermione sighed. It was barely ten o'clock in the morning and her stay at the Burrow had already been shortened. She turned her attention to the second envelop. It contained only one thin square of parchment.



"RON!"

Ron ducked as a spinning pillow hit the wall behind him, he tried to laugh "It was for your own good" he called.

"Ron!"

Ginny jumped out of the bed, wrapping a sheet around her and tried to throw another pillow at him, which hit Ron squarely in the chest, then she scrambled for her wand on the bedside table, shooting sparks at her brother, who was laughing harder now.

Harry half sat up in bed, starring at the slammed door, it was still vibrating and dust hadn't yet settled from the ceiling, his face burning tomato red, the doona hunched around his neck, gaping like a fish out of water. His apologies were never heard over the squeal Ron let out as Ginny set the seat of his pyjamas on fire.

After blowing a wet raspberry at Ginny, Ron laughed and disaaperated back down stairs.

Hermione sat almost exactly where she had been sitting when Ron had left, her head hung low, chin pressed against her collarbone breathing shallowly. Her eyes were damp and slightly red.

"Mione!" Ron gasped, the triumphant smile slipped from his face he placed a hand on her shoulder, but Hermione brushed it off as she stood up and turned to face the wall, digging her hands into her pockets.

"What's wrong?" He asked watching her, from the corner of his eye he saw the letter from Mrs Granger "Is it your parents?"



At this Hermione turned shook her head violently and sniffed "Everything's fine Ron, you don't have to be so caring all the time Ron," she smiled very weakly and began to get dressed, but before she opened the wardrobe door, she sobbed again, her hands begun to shake.

"Hermione, are you sure that you are-"

"I'm fine," then without another sound she begun dressing.