Tiptoeing

Sorry it's took a while but here's another chapter folks! This is set at Christmas in OoTP – a bit longer this time. Yay!

Being stuck together in the same house is an impending recipe for disaster. And that's the reality of the Order of the Phoenix; less than thirty people, some of whom under ordinary circumstances would avoid each other like the plague, all practically living under one another's noses and trying not to break into random scuffles in corridors.

These were Ron's thoughts as he tidied his bedroom, grumpily throwing the mouldy cushions from the bed into the corner of the room.

'Ron! I hope you're finishing cleaning that bedroom like I asked you!' Mrs. Weasley's voice reverberated up the stairs.

'Yeah of course I am!' Ron grimaced, unconventionally using a mouldy cushion to wipe the dust off the bedside cabinet. He muttered sarcastically, 'it's not like I've got anything better to do...'

Pig hooted happily from his cage as Ron proceeded to tape a poster of the Chudley Cannons to the back of the bedroom door.

'Oh, sorry Ron!' Hermione stopped in her tracks as she opened the door and hit him accidently. 'I keep forgetting where my room is...'

Ron rubbed his arm.

'I wouldn't mind Hermione but this is the third time you've forgotten that it's on the other side of the landing! Are you sure you weren't hit by Mad-Eye's obliviate charm earlier?'

'Well I suppose it's because I've been cleaning your room most of the day,' Hermione said accusatorily.

'Oh I knew it would come back to me,' said Ron, taking off his dirty jumper, 'it's my fault if anything goes wrong, and your fault if anything goes right...'

'Well... yes, that sounds about right. You know, you could keep this room a bit tidier.' She wrinkled her nose at the items of clothing spread around the room, and her eyes lingered on a sock that had somehow found its way onto the lampshade.

Ron followed her gaze and frowned. 'Sorry – that's Pig.'

As he climbed on to the bed to retrieve the offending item, she asked, 'Honestly Ron, what else have you got in here?' She looked around warily, as though expecting to see a large untrained orang-utan in the room.

'Look, as long as there are no spiders in here I'm not bothered,' he replied, testily.

Hermione giggled; she found it funny when he complained about spiders.

'Why don't you sit down for a bit, isn't Harry still talking to Sirius?' Ron asked.

Hermione smiled. 'Alright, but I need to read a chapter of my book before I go to bed.'

'You'll run yourself into the ground Hermione,' he replied, 'have a seat.'

He gestured towards the bed and sat himself on the moth eaten rug on the floor.

'There's room enough for two of us...' Hermione said, staring at the four poster bed.

'Nah I'm alright down here.' His ears turned pink for a moment, and then he grinned. 'I know my place.'

'Ron, stop talking about yourself like that!' she admonished him.

Ignoring her, he looked down at the rug and immediately regretted it, screwing up his nose.

'Looks like somebody's thrown up on this.'

'Delightful Ron.'

'I'm just saying...'

With that declaration, they sat in silence for a moment.

'What's that smell?' he asked, suddenly.

'The rug?' Hermione offered sarcastically.

'No, it's a nice smell, I like it.'

'Oh. Well it could be me I suppose; I've just been in the bath.'

'Oh.' He blushed, for reasons he wouldn't care to admit. 'But doesn't it smell a bit like that perfume I got you?'

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush.

'It is.'

'Right.' Ron stared at her unabashedly, then dropped his head and muttered something that sounded like 'didn't think you'd wear it'.

'Well what else am I going to do with it, drink it?' Hermione asked him, derisively.

She was pouting at him, her curly hair hanging loosely around her face. It was at these moments Ron could easily abandon all self control and try to kiss her. But he settled for the safe and incredibly off putting option of staring at the possible vomit stain on the rug instead.

Hermione wanted to ask him why he wouldn't sit on the bed with her, but she knew it would immediately create awkwardness between them. He was keeping unusually silent, so she decided to read a chapter of her book.

At the rustling of the pages, Ron looked up.

'Don't tell me you carry books around in your soap bag now, as well?'

'If you must know, this is my regular bag!'

'Go on then...' He sighed as though resigned for the worst, and stood up, hovering near the bed whilst looking down at her. 'What is it you're reading?'

'Ron, will you just sit next to me, you're making me nervous! You're like an ill sitting hen!'

He lowered himself onto the bed slowly, as though expecting some sort of explosion to occur. When nothing happened except the creaking of the bed springs, he leaned over to see the book cover.

Ron chuckled. 'You know what Hermione? I've decided I actually like that about you. The book reading, I mean... it's... well... funny.'

'Funny?' Hermione looked at him.

'Yeah, you know...'

'No, I don't!' She looked annoyed.

'Well, it's just very you, isn't it?' He bravely ventured again.

'Ron if you're trying to annoy me its working!' She snapped.

'I wasn't! I was complimenting you!'

'Well that would be a first wouldn't it?'

Ron assumed his usual gobsmacked expression and shook his head.

'Don't tell me I've never...'

Hermione loftily shook her head and pursed her lips, holding the book as though to read it.

There was nothing else for it; Ron had to say something.

'Well... didn't you hear the part where I said that I like it? I'm not joking...'

She looked derisively at him.

'You don't believe me.' He actually looked a bit crestfallen.

'Ron you've spent the last four years telling me that I'm a know-it-all and that I might as well just be a book and go live in the library, and you expect me to suddenly believe that you're complimenting me on it?'

'Hermione, I say a lot of things. You know me - sometimes my gob runs away with me. I don't mean half of what I say...' He was blushing; he sometimes did when he realised he'd said too much.

He distracted himself by picking at the bed clothes.

Hermione softened a little; something she did when Ron inadvertently exposed his insecurities.

She sighed and put the book down.

'Well... thank you Ron. I'm glad you like something about me, even if it's only one thing.'

She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked exasperated.

'Don't be stupid,' he said, equally as exasperated, 'that's not the only thing...'

'Really?' she looked up at him but it seemed as though he wasn't about to elaborate, and jumped up to busy himself with the Cannons poster again.

Hermione sighed. Ron was so gruff about things. Sometimes Harry would eventually open up about his feelings, but Ron? With Ron it was like trying to get blood from a stone. The best you could hope for was if he slipped something out – usually as a joke or in the heat of the moment.

She watched him as he finished securing the poster to the door with spellotape. He took two steps back to admire his handiwork and the whole thing just curled up, landing on the floor. Hermione waited for the outburst, especially since Pig chose the same moment to escape his cage and fly over to Ron. Sensing danger, he narrowly diverted and landed on Hermione's shoulder instead.

Ron strode over to Hermione, angrily.

'What are you doing out? I've only just put you back!' He made as though to snatch Pig off Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione jumped up off the bed and snatched Pig first, cupping him in her hands.

'Ron! You leave him alone!' She looked up at him angrily. 'Just because you're stupid enough to fall for Fred and George's joke spellotape does not mean you can take it out on everyone else!'

'What? It's theirs is it? Just wait 'til I see them!' he muttered angrily, eyeing Hermione's hands but not daring to touch her. He looked furtively at her. 'Give him here; I'll put him back...'

'No, not while you're in such a foul mood. I'll put him back...' She strode towards the cage stroking Pig's head. 'Don't worry Pig; Ron's being a pain...'

'And he isn't? Escaping every five minutes, hiding in the lampshade, twittering around my head, showing off...'

'He loves you Ron.'

Ron looked surprised for a moment, but then recovered himself. 'He loves whoever's feeding him...'

'Don't be silly. He's your pet.' She put Pig gently back into his cage where he stared out of the bars dolefully.

'Don't give me that...' Ron muttered but in a slightly mollified way, eyeing the owl.

'Yes.' Hermione looked at him with an amused expression. 'Much like the rest of us, he loves you but he has to tiptoe around you, just in case something upsets the balance. In this case, an insubordinate poster...'

'The rest of you?... Get out of it - Harry doesn't love me!' He fell back onto the bed and shook with silent laughter.

'He does! Of course he does!' Hermione said defiantly as she watched him laugh, 'He's your best friend! You're like brothers aren't you?'

'We don't look very much alike though do we?' Ron grinned. 'And what's all this, every time I let you into our room you always end up talking about our feelings!'

'Yes well someone has to! You and Harry just ignore things like that! You don't know how lucky you are...' She suddenly looked a bit wistful. 'I've never had a sister...'

Ron sat up and looked down at her.

'You've got Ginny.'

'Yes I suppose I have...'

'And when you say that Harry's like my brother, well... he's like your brother as well isn't he?'

Hermione smiled but Ron's face suddenly dropped.

'Unless of course, he's more than a brother...'

Hermione stared at him for a moment, then realised.

'Oh no! No! That would be a bit odd wouldn't it? No – Harry's definitely like a brother to me.'

Ron sighed with relief.

'What?' Hermione asked hopefully, catching his sigh.

'I dunno, I... well we're all friends together, right? So if you and Harry are like siblings, and Harry and I are like siblings then... what does that make you and me?'

Hermione blushed and immediately looked down at her book, pretending to leaf through the pages.

Ron frowned, apparently thinking about something.

Boldly, he suddenly blurted out, 'Cause I definitely don't think of you as my sister!'

You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Hermione looked up.

Ron had gone the colour of a radish but he was frowning, looking at the floor. Suddenly he muttered something Hermione had said earlier 'much like the rest of us? Love me...' she could see his mouth form the words 'but not like a sister? Then what...'

'Are you aright Ron?' she prompted him, gently.

'Bloody hell,' he whispered, 'the penny's just dropped...'

It wasn't possible for the room to get any warmer.

Ron unconsciously leaned closer to her.

'Hermione... do you think of me as a brother?' he asked, quietly.

'No,' she said, a little too quickly.

'Should I be upset about that?'

She turned quickly and looked up at him, surprised to find him so close. Clutching her book to her chest slightly, she said in a slightly squeaky way - 'It depends. You said you don't think of me as a sister, so I suppose we're even.'

'What about Krum? You don't think of him as a brother do you? I bet if he tried to snog you, you'd melt in his arms,' he said, accusatorily.

'Well let's put it this way Ron – Viktor's not here, and he's just a friend. But you are, and you're very close right now...' she remarked pointedly, as though alerting him to the fact that he was currently looking down at her like a hungry wolf.

Ron suddenly seemed to realise what he was doing - looking down at her lips. He jumped back as far as the headboard, banging his head against it.

He rubbed his head, deeply embarrassed.

Hermione sighed, blushing. Yes – she certainly had to tiptoe around Ron, else upset the delicate balance! Someday though...