A/N: Still appreciating the hell out of all of you for your delightful feedback thus far. I love hearing from you after you read a chapter, so keep it coming!

Big ups to adenei for all of your assistance thus far!

Now, who wants more flirting? :)

Chapter 11: "I'd call it keeping you on your toes."

Sundays used to be a mad dash to catch up on all of the work Ron had procrastinated throughout the weekend. Historically, he'd spent the majority of the day sleeping and relaxing, sometimes because he was too hungover to do anything else. He rarely had the energy to do much of anything besides order delivery and lay on the couch with a video game controller in his hand. Until mere hours before bedtime, of course, when he would inevitably realize that he still had a mountain of homework to complete and proceed to half-ass it to the best of his ability.

But the day after picking up Hermione from the hospital, Ron was in a completely different headspace. Much to the protestations of his roommates, he hadn't gone out the night before. That left him free to wake up early and text Hermione once it was a reasonable hour, making sure that she was doing okay at home. As soon as she'd responded that she was doing well, he was left with all sorts of free time that he never had.

Before he did anything else, he made sure to finish his schoolwork. There wasn't too much in the first place, but completing his Spanish essay and his Physics lab write-up only took about an hour. After that, he drove to the grocery store where he tried to buy something besides frozen pizza, chips, and Rice-a-Roni for a change. Some fresh fruits and frozen veggies even made their way into the cart as he thought about Hermione's admonishment the last time he'd brought leftover Wendy's to their study session.

By the time he made it back home, his roommates were up, and they had an early lunch together before heading out for their practice. Running into Hermione along the way had been a bright spot in his day, after which he was full of energy for the next hour and a half, dashing up and down the field as fast as he could. Even Harry and Seamus were impressed by him, both reluctantly admitting that he was on his game more than usual.

The rest of the afternoon was spent hanging out, playing video games, and relaxing. After dinner, Ron decided to crash on the couch in the living room and do a final proofread of his Spanish essay. At one point, he left his laptop open on the coffee table to run into the kitchen and grab a snack and a bottle of Gatorade. When he returned to the living room, Seamus was sitting in his seat, examining his computer screen.

"Get-well-soon teddy bear from Amazon? Multiple tabs open about how pacemakers work?" he asked, glancing up at Ron with a gleeful grin.

Ron slammed the laptop shut and narrowed his eyes at his roommate. "What the hell, man? Mind your own business!"

"Okay, okay," Seamus said, holding his hands up in defense. "Didn't know you were so touchy."

"I'm not, it just doesn't involve you."

"Sure, that's fine. Who does it involve, then? Because I have a pretty good guess."

Before he could control himself, Ron's fist was flying at Seamus' shoulder, connecting with a rewarding thud. Seamus winced for a second before beaming back at Ron, a smug look on his face.

"Well, now I know I'm right. What are you doing, dude? This isn't like you! You're not the guy who ties himself down to one girl. Especially a nerdy biology major like Hermione! Remember back at the beginning of freshman year when you were hooking up with a new chick almost every weekend? That guy was the best. Where's that Ron Weasley? Now…I don't know, you just seem like a neutered version of yourself."

"Fuck off, Seamus, I'm serious…" Ron threatened, sure that veins were popping out of his neck.

"No, it's true! When you're not skipping parties altogether, you're leaving early. You spend more time studying biology than I've seen you study for all of your other classes combined. And even when you're not, you're sure as hell not spending as much time with us and the guys! It's like you forgot how to have fun!"

Ron sighed and dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eye sockets with his palms. "It's not like that, man. I'm just trying to take my schoolwork a bit more seriously. There's nothing wrong with that. Maybe you should try it sometime."

"Uhh, excuse me, but I do just fine in school and still manage to get the full college social experience. It's possible…nay encouraged that you do both."

At that moment, Harry walked in with a confused expression, his eyes flicking back and forth between his two roommates. "Everything okay in here?"

"Perfect, Harry, back me up here," Seamus started, shifting toward Ron on the sofa. "Don't you think Ron has completely forgotten how to have fun? Don't you think he's gone from awesome to lame over the last couple of months?"

With a shrug, Harry sat down on Ron's opposite side, peeking past him at Seamus. "I think he's fine. He can live his life however he wants to."

"Exactly, dickhead," Ron answered.

Seamus shook his head as he stood up, pointing back at Ron. "I'm right. You know I'm right. I hope you snap out of it sometime soon. No girl is worth becoming…this."

If it had been three months ago, Ron would've chased Seamus back up to his room and made sure he got a few more licks in. But his opinion just didn't seem important any longer. For the first time since he'd arrived at Angell U, Ron felt like he was achieving a solid balance of school, friends, and extracurricular activities. He wasn't about to be derailed by his idiot roommate running his mouth.

"You okay?" Harry asked once they heard Seamus' door close upstairs.

"Yeah, fine, I guess," Ron replied, tossing his hands into the air. "I don't know what his problem is, though. I don't tell him how to live his life."

"You wanna know what I think? I think he just kinda misses you. You have been a little more absent from our social circle lately."

Ron almost jumped out of his seat, eager to plead his case. "I don't know about that, but you know I'm just trying to do what I have to do to stay on the–"

"Ron, relax," Harry urged, shoving his friend against the back cushions of the couch. "I get it. It's fine. I think it's a good thing that you're taking your schoolwork more seriously. And if Hermione happens to be involved in that and that's part of the reason, good for you. It's your business."

The tension that had built up in the room was fading, and Ron knew his breathing and heart rate were returning to normal as his fight-or-flight reaction dwindled. Why couldn't Seamus just be like Harry? Harry just lets people be, lets them do their own thing. How was that so hard? Although he was wrong about Seamus. He didn't miss Ron, he just saw an opportunity to badger him and grabbed it with both hands.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," Ron said, picking up his laptop and reopening it out of Harry's view.

"Was he right, though? You're buying her a get-well-soon gift and reading all about her pacemaker?"

Oh shit, he heard that? So much for keeping it a secret.

Trying to be as casual as possible, Ron continued. "I mean, it's no big deal. She was in the hospital. Getting people a little get-well-soon gift is kind of customary, no?"

Harry shrugged and eyed him suspiciously. "I guess…"

"A–And the pacemaker…I don't know, it just kinda sounded cool. I mean, she's like part machine. You have to admit, that's pretty badass. The technology is really interesting, too, it's amazing what these things can do–"

The look on Harry's face stopped him in his tracks. His green eyes were piercing Ron, looking right through his words to the truth he was trying to hide away. Ron should've known not to just blather on like that; Harry was far too perceptive.

"Ron. Seriously. It's fine. You can just admit it," the bespectacled young man encouraged.

It took him a few more moments to realize how futile it was to continue lying to Harry. Their gazes remained connected, each trying to see who would blink first in the game of emotional chicken. As hard as he tried, though, Ron knew it was a battle he couldn't win. It just wasn't worth the effort. Harry would figure it out either way.

"Alright, fine. So maybe…maybe I'm reading up on these things because I want to know more about her."

"Okay," Harry agreed with a nod, trying to keep a burgeoning smile off his face. "And the bear? I don't recall you getting me a bear when I was in the hospital for my broken arm freshman year of high school."

Ron rolled his eyes at his roommate, but couldn't help laughing as well. "No, I guess I didn't. Not that you would've wanted one."

"I think you see where I'm going with this."

"Yeah, I do," Ron admitted as his shoulders slumped. "I think I'm falling for her, man."

The smile on Harry's face grew wider and he gave a small nod. "There it is. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"I guess not."

"I think that's great, Ron. I'll admit I don't know the situation that well, but from what you've told me and from what I saw when you ran into each other earlier today, I'd guess that she thinks pretty fondly of you, too."

His heart leaping into his chest, Ron's head spun with excitement upon hearing Harry's words. Letting himself believe that she cared about him too seemed dangerous, so he'd been steeling himself just in case. But knowing that Harry saw it too was more than a little encouraging.

Still, he couldn't get his hopes up too much. "I don't know, we'll see. Day by day, right?"

"Sure. Just…look. Be careful, man. As much as I don't think Seamus needed to be such an ass about it, he was right about one thing. Hermione is not your type of woman. Now, I don't think that has to be a huge deal, but you have to be realistic. Dating her is not going to be like dating any of the girls you've ever gone out with."

"So? I mean, I wasn't nearly as serious about any of those girls as I am about Hermione. And I know that it sounds kind of callous, but I'm almost certain it was mutual for them too. Until now, I've just been…I don't know, having fun. But…that's not really what I want this time. It's different."

"If you say so," Harry said, still clearly not convinced. "It's just…you're not really the commitment kind of guy, you know? I'm not judging or anything, and I'm not trying to talk you out of it, but be careful. It's going to be an adjustment. You owe it to her to make sure you're prepared for that before jumping into anything, don't you think?"

"What are you, her Dad?" Ron responded with a chuckle.

"I'm the one who wants to believe this'll work out the way you want it to but has seen you…let's say not excel in situations like this before."

Whipping a throw pillow at his roommate, Ron scoffed. "Screw you, man! That doesn't mean I can't be that type of person."

"No, it doesn't," Harry agreed as he adjusted the glasses that Ron had knocked askew. "I'm just suggesting you consider the stark difference between this and anything else you've ever been involved in, okay? And for the record, I think you're fully capable of that type of relationship; you're a very loyal person. It's just…it would be new, you know?"

Harry had a point. Asking Hermione out wasn't the same as finding someone to hook up with at the bar at two in the morning. She didn't seem like the type of person who got involved with anyone she couldn't see herself marrying or something. Even though a shudder passed through him at the thought of marriage, he was still fairly convinced that he could handle a committed relationship.

"Maybe, but I know what I want."

It took a few moments for Harry to stop studying Ron's face, but eventually, he hopped up off the couch and slapped his friend on the back on his way out of the room. "Then good luck, dude. I genuinely hope it works out."

"Thanks, man."

With Harry's words echoing through his mind, he turned his attention back to his laptop. The stuffed bear he'd chosen was cute, and Amazon promised it would be delivered the next day, arriving with plenty of time to spare before their next meeting. He completed the purchase and smiled to himself, picturing the look on her face when he handed it to her.

Just as he was trying to decide whether to get in another game of Madden, his phone dinged on the sofa next to him. His eyes lit up when he saw Hermione's name.

So I was finally able to grade your exam this evening…

The grin on his face spread even further as he abandoned his controller and focused on his phone and the girl he couldn't stop thinking about.

Two days later, Ron was packing his bag to head over to Hermione's house to study. All three of his classes had seemingly taken forever as he looked forward to the evening, but it was finally a quarter to five. Once the time arrived, of course, his mindset shifted from one of excitement to one of anxiety. He'd barely eaten anything since getting home, and he was certain his stomach wouldn't tolerate anything else until after they were done working.

He added his books to his expanding backpack, tucking them carefully between the stuffed animal and a large bag of gummy bears. After talking with Harry, he realized that perhaps it was a bit forward of him to be bringing her a gift, but if he was truly interested in her, he had to start somewhere, right?

"See ya, guys!" he called as he grabbed his keys, stepped outside, and jumped into his car. The drive to her apartment was only five minutes, but he was so eager to get there that every street seemed miles long. When he did finally pull up in front of her house and turn off the car, he gave himself a quick look in the rearview mirror, running a hand through his hair a few times to achieve the perfect combination of the "just rolled out of bed" look and a more manicured style. Once he was satisfied, he strolled to the front door, rang the bell, and tried to shake the jitters out through his hands.

The knob twisted a moment later and Hermione stood in the door frame, a welcoming smile on her face. She was dressed more casually than usual in a yellow t-shirt and pair of thin maroon joggers. Much to Ron's surprise, she looked exactly like her normal self, and the way she was moving proved that her body had recovered from any of the ill effects of her hospitalization.

"Thanks for coming," she said, stepping to the side to allow him into the room.

The whole apartment smelled like warm sugar cookies, and Ron savored the aroma as he slipped off his shoes. "Yeah, of course. How are you feeling?"

"Really great, actually! My pain is gone, and I feel like I'm getting used to the pacemaker."

"That's fantastic. I'm sure it must still be a little weird that your heart is run by electrical impulses from a tiny machine, though. Although I've read that the Azure models have more of a natural feel."

She quirked an eyebrow in his direction, shaking her head in confusion. "Umm, yes, that's right. Did I tell you…? How…how did you know I have an Azure model? And–wait, how do you even know what an Azure is?"

"Well, they're the best around," he explained, one corner of his lips curling upward. "And I had a feeling it would be nothing but the best for Hermione Granger."

"It's not like they let me choose it! But…you would be right."

Ron nodded with a satisfied grin. "When you told me about yours…I don't know, they just seemed pretty interesting, so I did some reading."

A snicker escaped her lips, and she gazed back at him, an admiring twinkle in her eye. "Well, consider me impressed. I had no idea you had an interest in this kind of stuff."

"I mean, I didn't before, but…umm, anyway, yeah, you look great," he started, his face flushing as he realized the double meaning. "Umm, I mean, you know…the last time I saw you, it was hard for you to move around. So…you look like you're…much more stable now."

Stable? She's not a fucking rickety table!

Hermione chuckled and waved him back toward her room. "My mobility is back to normal. That really didn't take too long. Honestly, I feel good as new."

"That's awesome! I'm glad it was quick."

As soon as they entered the room, he dropped his bag on her desk chair and unzipped it, searching for the gifts he'd brought with him.

"I guess I'm a little late with this since you're already feeling better, but I got this for you," he offered, holding the bear out toward her.

When her eyes shifted towards the small brown plush, her face lit up and she beamed back at him. "Ron, you didn't have to do that!" she said, tentatively reaching out a hand and stroking the soft fur.

"I know, but…well, I thought it might help or something. Anyway, like I said, sorry I'm late…you're kind of already better, huh?"

Her hand closed around the bear's midsection and she studied it for a moment, running a delicate finger over its ear before setting it down on the bed. Before he could react, she stepped toward him and snaked her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his chest.

"Thank you," she whispered as her hands crawled slowly up and down his back. "I love it."

He enveloped her, pulling her closer as the scent of her candle was replaced by her rosemary and citrus shampoo. It drove him crazy as did the warmth of her body against his. She belonged in his arms, he no longer had any doubt. It was almost as though they were made to fit together. "You're welcome. I'm really glad you're doing so much better."

Right around the time Ron was starting to wonder if the hug was exceeding the limits of a normal, friendly embrace, she stepped back and untangled herself from him, hiding her face as she shuffled toward her desk. Even though she was trying to shield herself, he was sure he caught a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

"Oh, and that's not all," he said, trying not to be too disappointed that she had let him go. "Here."

He produced the bag of gummy bears, which prompted a belly laugh from her when she spun back toward him. "Oh, thank you, that's excellent! My supply was running low. I promise I'll share."

"No, no, they're all yours!"

"Ron." She paused, rolling her eyes in his direction. "Come on. We both know you'll have some when the time comes."

Unable to keep the lopsided grin off of his own face, he nodded. "Yeah, I probably will."

"Exactly. Anyway, I know this space isn't ideal, but we can just work on the bed if you like."

The bed? Was she serious? Did she not know what she was saying? His entire body heated up, and he tried to swallow, reminding himself that she didn't mean what he thought she meant.

It's just studying. "Work on the bed" isn't a double entendre, there's just not that much space in here. Get your mind out of the gutter!

"Yeah, sure, that'll work."

She propped herself up near her pillow, her back against the wall and her legs sticking out perpendicular to the bed. With a friendly beckon of her hand, she patted the sheets next to her and pulled out her notes. Caution was the name of the game, so he proceeded carefully. He climbed onto the bed and scooted back next to her, his long, gangly legs extending across the entire width of the mattress. He made sure to leave her plenty of space as he settled towards the foot of the bed.

"Comfortable?" she asked. "I know it's not perfect, but this is the best I can do in here."

"Oh, it's fine. Besides," he answered, running his fingers over her science-themed sheets, "I've always wanted to know what it was like to study on top of beakers and test tubes."

Her eyebrows arched as she glared back at him and feigned offense. "Are you insulting my sheets?"

"No, I would never. They're…fitting, I suppose."

"Because I happen to love them."

"As well you should," he agreed with a nod. "Mine are plain, boring navy blue. I'm probably just jealous."

"You're definitely jealous. After all, you're becoming a science whiz yourself. Having the sheets to match would be quite the perk."

Was she flirting with him? Sure, he'd done a bit of the same over text the other day, but he figured she only participated because he started it. Seeing her dishing it back so eagerly was more than a little exciting, and Ron knew was going to have a lot of trouble keeping his mind focused on studying biology.

"But it makes me wonder…are the sheets the chicken or the egg? Like, if I sleep on sciency sheets, can I grow up to become a doctor too? Or do I have to want it first?" he asked, figuring he might as well keep it going. Teasing her was way better than studying.

"You know, I think you just might be able to pull it off. But only with the sheets."

"Hmm, okay. In that case, I'm going to need the name of your decorator."

His attention was distracted by her laugh, and he didn't feel her lean into his shoulder until it was too late. Since he wasn't able to brace himself, he toppled over onto his side and felt her weight land on his shoulder. Soon they were both laughing as he pulled himself back up, giving her a boost with his arm until they were upright again.

"That was your fault," she said, still giggling.

"Excuse me?" he scoffed, giving her leg a playful shove with his knee. "I'm not the one blindsiding people!"

"You're a foot taller and probably eighty pounds heavier than me!"

"Yeah, but how much does that mean when you're not expecting to be attacked?"

The smile returned to her face as she turned to face him, her eyes narrowed mischievously. "You think I attacked you?"

"I don't know," he replied, bringing his nose to within inches of hers. "What would you call it?"

"I'd call it keeping you on your toes."

Heat was radiating off of both of their faces. If only Ron dared to lean forward just a bit, their lips would meet, and he'd get everything he'd wanted for weeks. But no matter how much she seemed to be flirting right back, the prospect of taking things to the next level seemed…permanent. Dangerously permanent. Friendship altering. Paradigm shifting. And even though he was fairly certain he wanted those things with her, he still wasn't sure that that was what she wanted. And he never wanted to be the guy who read the signals wrong and tried something unwanted.

Instead, he cleared his throat and leaned back, snickering to himself. "I'll, uhh…I'll be careful, then."

A look of confusion played across her face, but she gave a small shake of her head and refocused her attention on her notes. "Okay, good. Umm, so where should we start? Were you at the lecture yesterday?"

"Yeah, I was. Gene expression, right?"

"That's right. Let's get started."

For the next half an hour, they reviewed the concepts from Professor Sprout's most recent class. At first, Ron was worried that the clumsy moment they'd shared would make their studying more awkward. But they quickly fell into a rhythm and started joking with each other again, reverting to their typical banter. Part of this was because, much to Hermione's delight, he already seemed to have the main concepts of the lecture down pat. Time was speeding past until half past five when Hermione hopped off the bed and retrieved the bag of gummy bears from her desk.

"It's like you have some kind of internal alarm clock for those things," Ron offered with a teasing grin.

Her hand brushed against his thigh as she propelled herself back up onto the bed. "I like having a little pick-me-up, so what?"

"The future doctor sneaking candy at every opportunity? What would your patients think?"

She opened up the bag, took out a green gummy bear, and launched it at him. "What, like you have no vices?"

"No, I certainly do," he agreed, snatching up the gummy bear and popping it in his mouth. "But I'm not going to be a doctor and spend my time telling people to eat healthy because I know I don't hold myself to that standard."

"Excuse me, but I think I eat very healthy overall. You just always happen to see me while I'm studying, which is the only time I eat candy. Otherwise, I don't touch the stuff."

Ron rolled his eyes and shot her a sidelong glance. "Mmhmm."

"I don't!" she insisted, slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

Continuing his instigation was a natural move. The rise he was getting out of her was far too enjoyable. "I bet you have dessert after every meal."

"I most certainly do not! In fact, very rarely do I have dessert."

"Big piece of cake every night, right?" he shot back with a smile.

"I know you've never seen me at dinner time," she started as her voice grew louder and rose an octave, "but I eat very sensibly!"

"I don't know, I'm not sure I believe you. Not with all I've seen with the gummy bears…"

Her defiance continued despite his laughter, her face turning red. "Fine, I'll prove it to you! Have dinner with me sometime!"

The room fell deadly silent. Once again, he knew she hadn't meant it the way he heard it, but it sounded an awful lot like her asking him out on a date. But that would be ridiculous. Besides, he was just kidding around. Still, he struggled to know what to say next.

To make matters worse, his eyes were roaming all over the room, not knowing where to land. They were naturally drawn to her chest, heaving to catch her breath after their argument, but that was the worst place for them to stare. The other side of the room seemed strange, but safe. Looking directly at her was the most dangerous option.

Instead, he simply muffled a small cough against his arm and turned his gaze back to his notes. "I'm sorry…I–I was just messing around. I'll focus, I promise. No more distractions."

"Oh, I know…and it's fine. But yes, I suppose we should be back to work. No more…distractions."

The rest of the hour passed slowly. Ron was kicking himself for once again making things awkward. Not to mention, it seemed like she'd presented him with a few golden opportunities, but he just hadn't been able to follow through. Why was this so much more difficult with Hermione? If he'd been sitting on any other girl's bed and flirting back and forth with her like that, odds are they'd be making out by now. With Hermione, though, he found himself paralyzed with fear that he would do something wrong.

Part of him knew why, of course, and it was tremendously bothersome for him to admit that Seamus had predicted it. She wasn't like any girl he'd ever been interested in. Every other romantic conquest up to that point in his life had been an acceptable gamble. If the girl was into him and they hooked up? Good for him. If she wasn't and he got a drink thrown in his face? Oh well, there's always next time.

But he couldn't take that approach with Hermione. It was almost as though his brain wouldn't let his heart and his body take the leap until he was completely certain that she would reciprocate. The last thing he wanted to do was ruin the relationship they already had, so he kept delaying, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. She had quite the hold on him.

When they were finished studying, he packed up his notes and pushed himself off the bed before helping her off as well. She offered him another couple gummy bears for the road and walked him out the door to the rustic front porch.

"So…tomorrow's Wednesday," she said, running her fingers over the worn wood of the door frame. "It's fine with me if you want to skip that one since we took care of most of the work today."

He didn't want to come across too eager, but he also didn't want to lose another chance to see her. "Oh, umm, up to you, I guess. We have another lecture tomorrow, so there will be more material to cover. I'm up for it if you are, but I don't want to monopolize your schedule, especially since I'm sure you're still not feeling perfect."

"That's true, there will be new material. Alright, tomorrow at seven like usual?"

"Sounds great," he replied, breathing a subtle sigh of relief.

"Perfect."

Before he could move towards the steps, Hermione stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms gently around him again. He quickly reciprocated and held her close to him. The hug was just as nice as the first one and made him even more depressed that he'd have to let go eventually.

"Thank you again…for everything."

"I keep telling you, you don't have to thank me," he said with a shake of his head.

"I know, but…it really means a lot to me."

"Any time, okay? I mean it."

She pulled back from him and nodded, her eyes suddenly a bit redder than they had been a moment ago. "Thanks, Ron. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right. Have a good night, Hermione."

As he descended the staircase and sauntered toward his car, he resisted the urge to look back at her. Hermione Granger was a puzzle he couldn't solve, and it was frustrating him to no end. His growing feelings for her had been evident to him for a while, but never had he been more suspicious that she felt the same way. Even with that knowledge, though, he just couldn't gather the strength to do something about it. And, to add insult to injury, he couldn't figure out why it was so hard to just…say something.