Life with George was comforting. That was really the best word for it. He didn't have the hygiene standards of Mrs. Weasley, but he kept the place full of laughter. Hermione had picked up a cookbook from Flourish and Blotts, and was attempting to teach the boys to make something other than eggs. This effort was somewhat inhibited by the fact that Hermione herself couldn't cook much more than eggs, and the boys had little interest in learning. One night she attempted to bake a shepherd's pie- she didn't have Mrs. Weasley's skills in magical cookery- and ended up blowing up the oven. "I thought that if I put a litte of my blue fire in there, it would cook faster!" she said, wiping burned potatoes off of the wall.

"Hermione, you've lived with muggles half your life," said Harry. "You realize that stove burns petrol, right? And that petrol is really flammible?"

"I'd forgotten that. Well, I suppose I should pop over to the Burrow sometime soon and ask Mrs. Weasley to help me a little. If I have to eat eggs for one more day, I'll"

"It's all right, Hermione," said Ron, patting her back. "Tell you what- we'll go down to the Leaky Cauldron tonight, yeah? Get some real shepard's pie?"

She smiled. "That would be lovely, Ron, but we can't go anywhere before we clean up this mess. I'm sure George-"

"To be honest, Hermione, I don't give much of a damn about the state of my kitchen." George picked up a lump of potato and threw it at a wall. It hit with a splat, mixing with the other burned remnants of the meal. "We'll clean this up when we get back."

"No. No, George, you can't leave all this food out for god knows what to find. You three go down to the Leaky Cauldron, and order me a butterbeer. I'll be there as soon as I've got the food off the walls."

George shrugged. "Suit yourself, but don't act like I made you clean this up." He grabbed a jacket from the table, and motioned to the door. "Harry? Ron?"

"Actually, I think I'm going to stay with Mione," said Ron, a little red.

Harry rolled his eyes and grinned. "Suit yourself, lovebirds. But don't complain next time Ginny and I want a moment to ourselves."

"That's not what I mean!" Ron's ears were the colour of his Chudleigh Cannons tee shirt. "I only think that if she's going to clean up this mess, she could use some help. I didn't mean that-"

"Oh, sure. Harry, old chap? I think this is our cue to exit."

The two of them strode out of the flat, elbowing each other. Ron could hear them chuckling all the way down the hall.

"So, what needs doing?" Ron pulled his wand from his back pocket.

"Um, we need to get all this rubbish off the walls. The stove can wait if we're going down to the Cauldron, but I don't want to leave food lying about. Scourgify should do the trick."

"Right."

They worked in silence for a few minutes, painfully aware that they were entirely alone. Although they had been almost constantly in one another's presence over the last few months, they had never been truly alone. Ron was almost afraid that Hermione would expect him to… he shuddered. It wasn't that he didn't want to touch her- he'd spent the seven years since he met her denying that she haunted his dreams- but he was afraid to show so much of him to another living person. Even with Lavender, he hadn't…

"I think that's just about all of it." She smiled. "There might be a trace of potatoes somewhere, but we can take care of that tomorrow."

She reached for her coat, which was neatly folded on a chair. "Are you ready to go? I'm really rather hungry."

She slipped on her boots, and stood expectantly by the door.

"Ron? What are you waiting for? I've never known you to say no to the prospect of food."

"I'm coming. I just need to-"

He kissed her, abruptly. His mouth crashed against hers, cutting off the rest of his sentence. He pushed her backwards into the door, before finding her waist and pulling her into his body. He began to kiss her, desperately, as if they would never be together again, and she kissed him back. But he could see that the passion that had hit him was not shared by her- at least not in this moment. After a few minutes, she broke away.

"Ron, I know what you want. But now isn't the time. We're in George's flat, I'm starving, and there's probably still mashed potato on the walls. It's not that I don't want to, just that-"

"Hermione, when can we possibly expect to be alone again? We're living in a rather small flat, with two other people who've made it rather clear that they don't want us to do anything while they're in a ten mile radius."

"Ron, in a few weeks we'll have our own place. We'll have our own room, and Harry will have work to do. But I don't want to do this when we're not in a place of our own. Do you see?"

And then he understood. Ron could have kicked himself, as he realized exactly how right she was.

"Bloody hell. Mione, you're right and I'm sorry. I don't know what happened just there, but-"

"Ron, I want it too. I just don't think it's the right time, you know?"

"Of course I know. And you're definitely right." He kissed the top of her head, and buttoned the top of her jacket. "Now, it's about time we went to get that pie, don't you think?"

As they walked down Diagon Alley, they did not speak. Ron understood that he had crossed a boundary, and that Hermione could not look at him in the same way ever again.