#romionefic

[be11atrixthestrange]

Bathroom Light

It's been two years since I've written anything, but I heard the song Bathroom Light by Mt. Joy, and this story wrote itself. Rated M for Ron's thoughts. <3

***

x

Find me a lane to drive through

In a Halloween costume

I'm an astronaut without you

x

As usual, the Three Broomsticks was bursting with Hogwarts students on a Saturday night. Echoes of conversations bounced off the walls, cluttering Ron’s mind like a cloud of wrackspurts,  which made it even harder than usual to focus on his date. Lavender had been chatting about a new beauty charm she learned from Parvati. Or was it from Witch Weekly? Honestly, Ron didn’t know, but apparently it had something to do with volumizing curls. Maybe. 

Ron stared into his half empty butterbeer. Although he was tempted to chug the rest of it, he just knew that if someone in particular saw him gulping it down like a river troll, she’d disapprove. He shouldn’t care what that someone in particular would think, as they weren’t even on speaking terms, but for some reason he still did. 

“Are you listening to me?” 

Ron’s skin prickled at her question, and his fingers clenched around his glass of butterbeer. “Yes, of course I’m listening,” he lied. 

“Then what did I just say?” asked Lavender, one eyebrow raised. 

“Something about beauty charms…”

Lavender’s eyes narrowed.

“Beauty charms that you don’t even need.”

Ron’s shoulders relaxed when Lavender’s face softened into a grin. “Aww. You’re sweet.”

He smiled back at her and took in her features. She wore a different color lipstick than usual for their date, and it had taken Ron by surprise when he first saw her. Lavender had seemed hurt by his reaction. He tried to assure her that he didn’t think of her lipstick color as good or bad, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say. 

Truth be told, he didn’t actually know what Lavender looked like without all the effort, but he knew better than to mention that. She took great pride in her appearance and wanted validation — that Ron could understand. Some guys equated makeup and beauty charms with deceit, and Ron really didn’t want to be one of those guys. But was it wrong to want to know what your girlfriend really looked like? 

And honestly, he’d love to go on a date that had the potential of ruining someone’s perfectly curated hair. Lavender wouldn’t even watch one of his Quidditch games if it was raining for fear of ruining her appearance. Even though that would mean so much more to him than finding a never-before-seen shade of lip balm just for him. He couldn’t shake the image of someone else sitting in the stands at a particularly stormy Quidditch game, her curls soaked down to heavy waves that stuck to her face, completely unbothered by the fact that she looked like she’d nearly drowned in the great lake.

As if reality read his mind, those same curls caught his eye, bouncing along the edge of the pub toward the loo. His eyes immediately followed Hermione until the light of the bathroom hallway illuminated her. Who was she here with? Harry or Ginny? Neither had mentioned anything about going to Hogsmeade tonight, and the thought made his stomach feel as heavy as a bezoar. Was she on a date? 

The persistent thought, the one that he was usually pretty good at keeping at bay flooded into his mind like a dam had broken. What would happen if he followed her?

x

We're twisting our way to the back of the bar

Yeah, locking the door, falling into the stall…

x

Maybe she would respond positively. Those canaries meant something. No one would attack a person for kissing someone else if they only held platonic feelings. Ron definitely wasn’t wrong about that. It was possible that she’d welcome a grand gesture from him. 

Was following her into a bathroom stall in a crowded pup a grand gesture? It surely wasn’t on the same level as hiring a string quartet or writing a romantic poem. But if memories of a rogue mountain troll served him correctly, it wouldn’t be the first time their relationship changed in a bathroom.

Suppose he got up, followed her, and she invited him in. Then what?

That would never happen. But it didn’t hurt to imagine, right? 

x

Stripping you down to your jewelry

You're breaking the rules just for me

What a life under big stars and a good woman in charge

Got me falling in, got me falling in hard.

x

Would she want him to kiss her the way he kissed Lavender in the common room that first time? Because honestly, he probably couldn’t. It would be so different.

If he kissed Hermione in that bathroom there would be no hesitation. His mind wouldn’t freeze and turn on autopilot without a moment’s thought about the fallout of his actions. He’d kiss her not in spite of the consequences, but because of them. Could a kiss ruin their friendship? 

So be it, ruin the friendship. Sometimes things needed to burn down to grow back stronger. 

It wouldn’t just be a kiss. If the scars on his arms meant anything, she had passion. Sure, that manifested poorly sometimes, but it wouldn’t in that bathroom. He could just imagine her tugging at his shirt while he plucked at the buttons on her blouse, pieces of clothing hitting the floor one by one, until all she was left wearing was that perfume he got her back in fifth year. 

He’d run his fingers through her perfectly voluminous curls that needed no beauty charms, and maybe she’d bite down on his lip as her bare legs wrapped around his waist. His fingers would dig into the skin of her thighs, and she’d groan her approval, which would have a similar effect to setting Ron on fire. 

Something Ron loved about Hermione was her relationship with rules. She knew the ins and outs of every rule in the book, so when it came time to break them, she was the one to ask. She could get away with anything without risking her perfect reputation, especially for someone she cared about. Setting a professor’s robes on fire? Check. Blackmailing and transfiguring a nefarious journalist? Check. Jinxing the D.A. sign up sheet? Check. That one time she snuck a flask of firewhiskey on a prefect round, and they skipped patrol to drink in an empty classroom? Check. Harry didn’t even believe Ron when he told him about that last one, and honestly, Ron preferred it that way. It made it seem special. 

If breaking rules was Ron’s love language, Hermione was fluent, and she only spoke it for him. 

So even though he was on a date with someone else, and maybe she was too, it wasn’t difficult to imagine her fully letting him in under the dim bathroom light. He’d prop her up on the sink; she’d tug on his front zipper and slip him out of his trousers. And despite the fact that they were in a dingy stall in the bathroom of an overcrowded pub, he’d do to her what he’d only ever imagined in his dreams. Fuck the consequences.

Shag her best friend in the bar bathroom? She definitely would. Check. 

x

So, come on, baby, let's do this right

I think I like falling in love in the bar bathroom light

I won't question it, I won't mess with it, if it's there go grab it

Tell your friends you love who they are

x

“Ron, are you okay?”

Lavender sat with her elbows on the table, head cocked to the side, a look of concern on her face. 

“Yeah. Why?” he asked, trying his best to hide the resentment creeping up from the fact that she yanked him from the most beautiful daydream. 

“You seem distracted.”

Ron immediately felt heavy with guilt. What was wrong with him? He was here with a gorgeous woman, and couldn’t control the trajectory of his fantasies. 

“I’m sorry. Just tired,” he lied. In fact, he was more energized than ever. “Can we go back?”

“Yeah,” said Lavender, with a brief flash of disappointment on her face. “Want to finish your beer first?”

Ron glanced at his butterbeer, still half empty. Hermione obviously wasn’t looking, so he put the glass to his lips and chugged it. 

“Let’s go,” he said. The pair stood up to leave, and Lavender reached for his hand. Who was he to think of makeup and beauty charms as deceit when he was the one imagining shagging someone else in the bathroom?

Yet, on the way out the door, it took everything he had to avoid stealing one more glance toward the bathroom at the back of the bar. 

[rupertgrintdailysblog]

Breathe - Romione One Shot

**Some quotes are taken directly from Deathly Hallows chapter 32, Malfoy Manor**

Summary: Hermione dies due to being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange and Ron has to hear the whole thing, the aftermath

Warnings: death

•

•

•

It all happened so fast. They were fixing to set up enchantments and then all of a sudden, death eaters were chasing them through the woods. They had just entered the dark sanctuary at the Malfoy house. It was as dark as they’d imagine. They were all blindfolded, but could feel each other and held tightly to one another. 

“Hermione… please… stay behind me.” Ron whispered near what he assumed to be Hermione’s trembling ear and held tightly to her hand, never once imagined letting go of her.

Ron, Harry and Hermione were entering into the worse place for a muggle born. He was out of his mind terrified of what would happen to Hermione. He just wanted to leave. He wanted to pick her up and just disapparate anywhere else, but Greyback breathing down their necks made that impossible. Ron held onto Hermione like his entire life depended on. Like her entire life depended on it.

They weren’t sure where exactly they were at, everyone was quiet and they all could feel the hair’s on their arms standing. They weren’t sure what was going on. Until Bellatrix comes across the sword of Gryffindor and lost it. She starts pulling at the three, yelling,

“Where did you get this sword? Where?! Have you been in my vault?! What else have you taken?!” She spat at Hermione. He could feel Hermione tense and back up trying to get away from her. Her anger filled the entire room with such fear and anxiety. Ron broke the terrifying silence. Ronald Weasley, who never felt an ounce of confidence before in his life shouted at the witch, blindfolded, not even sure where or who he was around. He somehow felt more confident since he returned to their tent and wanted to protect Hermione. And Harry, too, of course. He already left them once, he wasn’t going to abandon them again. Specially Hermione.

“We did NOT steal this from your vault! Back away from her!!”

Bellatrix, not caring for the blood traitors tone, ripped the blind fold off of him and pulled at his face so he was forced to look directly at her.

“What was that, blood traitor?! YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT?!”

Ron would be lying if he said he wasn’t out of his mind pissing right now, but he had to protect them. He could feel Harry behind him trying to break free, but he couldn’t budge.

“I said… we did not steal anything from your bloody vault!!”

He spat back, rolling his eyes at the death eaters among them. She backs up, anger filling her eyes and Ron can feel every nerve in his body tense up.

“Liar!!!” She comes charging at the three of them, ripping Ron and Harry from Hermione. Ron still held onto Hermione’s hand, not letting go. He couldn’t let go. This enraged Bellatrix even more and she kicked Ron and Hermione’s hands latched together. They both let out blood piercing screams as they fell to the floor and Ron could see Bellatrix picking Hermione up throwing her against the wall with her arm against her throat, making it harder for her to continue screaming.

“Disgusting, your love for this mudblood!! I mean look at her!! What is there to love?!”

Ron felt the pain in his wrist and the anger within his soul worsen by the second. He couldn’t breathe. He looked up as Bellatrix was forcing her arm into Hermione’s throat and he wanted so badly to get up and yank her out of her arms, but he couldn’t.

“No! You can have me, keep me! Just leave her alone!!!”

Bellatrix kicked him across the face; the blow echoed around the room. He fell to the ground. Harry crawled beside Ron and grabbed a hold of him, checking on him. Ron, holding his face with his better hand, he looked up as he saw tears fall down Hermione’s face and look of fear he’s never known to come across her beautiful face. Please. Stop. Please. Just leave her alone.

“You’d die for her?! Well… If she dies under questioning, I’ll take you next. Blood traitor is next to mud-blood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them- yet” She gave out a grin that could kill. She spat towards them and turned around grinning at Hermione.

“No! Please!! We didn’t take anything… I swear!!” Hermione cried out. Ron felt shivers run down his spine at the sound of her pleading for mercy. Greyback stopped them at the top of the stairs leading down to the cellar and Ron saw Bellatrix push Hermione against the wall and hit her across the face. He felt his bones twinge with anger and fear.

“Only speak when you have been spoken to!!!”

“STOP!! JUST LEAVE HER BE!!”

Greyback punched him in the gut and threw Ron and Harry into Pettigrew who escorted them down to the cellar.

Ron then knew what it felt like to truly want to die to protect someone you love.

—

Ron had ran and screamed himself into the ground yelling for Hermione. He now sat against a pillar in the cellar listening to her blood piercing screaming and felt every nerve in his body shot. He was shaking with anger and worry.

“Harry… what the bloody hell do we do?! She is going to kill her!!! She can’t handle this much longer… I… I can’t handle this much longer” He felt selfish for wanting this to end so he didn’t have to endure it anymore knowing she’s suffering a million times more, but he did also want it to stop for her. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.

“I know, Ron.. I know… I… I can’t handle this either... I just, don’t know what we’re supposed to do right now” and at the same moment a loud crack echoed inside the cellar. Ron clicked the deluminator. A ball of light flew into the floating lantern, revealing Dobby the house-elf, who had just apparated into their midst.

“Harry Potter?” The tiny house-elf spoke in the finest quiver.

“Dobby?!” Harry smacked Ron on the arm to get him to stop screaming. Ron looked terrified of his mistake. He could hear shuffling upstairs and hoped no one was coming down here.

“Dobby has come to rescue you, sir”

“But how did you-?” Hermione’s screamed drowned out the rest of the question and Ron ran to the cellar doors. “Bloody stop it!! Please!!!” Ron could hear Greyback laugh and slammed his fist into the bars of the cellar.

“You can disapparate out of this cellar?” Harry spoke over Ron’s screams. “And you can take us with you?” The house-elf shook his head with a grin. “Dobby can sir”

“Okay Dobby… we need you to take Ron and I upstairs. Now. Before they kill Hermione.”

“Oh dear yes sir. Poor Hermione. Yes”

Dobby quickly walked across the cellar to the door and unlocked the door. Before they went up, Dobby handed Ron and Harry their wands. Before they could ask how he managed to get those, Hermione was no longer screaming, but she let out the most pitiful moan that caused Ron to run to the top of the stairs. Harry ran after him, slowing him down to not do anything stupid… just yet.

“Ron! Hold on, okay!?”

“Bugger off!! Alright? Help me get Hermione. Please. I don’t care WHAT it takes!!”

The sight before Ron and Harry was enough to knock them down the stairs again. Hermione was laying on the floor of Malfoy Manor and she was so weak, pale and covered in blood. He could see “mud-blood” carved into her arm and started crying. For a second he could see life in her eyes. He had a glimmer of hope that she was going to be okay, if he could just get to her. In that moment, It was like he was frozen to the stairs, not able to move as he saw Bellatrix raise her wand and she shouted “AVADA KEDAVRA!” causing Ron to immediately grip to reality and find movement in his feet. He ran up the stairs and screamed, “NO!! HERMIONE!!! EXPELLIARMUS!”

He pointed his wand directly at Bellatrix and sent her flying across the room, but he wasn’t there in enough time. Her curse had already hit Hermione. He saw her body shoot up and back down on the ground and he could see her eyes, but this time, lifeless.

“HERMIONE! NO!” He ran as fast as he could, even though it felt like it took ages to get to her and scooped her up in his arms. His life just flashed before his eyes. He looked down at the girl who had been the love of his life for the last six years. He looked down at the girl who was supposed to be the love of his life for the rest of their lives. He looked down at the girl was supposed to be his wife, mother of their many children, and someone he grew old with. He now looked down at a girl that had all of those things taken away not just from him, but herself. She had her entire life stolen from her.

The breathe was taken out of Ron. He couldn’t find any room in him to breathe. He looked around, looking for what, he had no idea. He needed someone to tell him Hermione would be okay. He needed someone to tell him it was just a bad dream and he was going to wake up at the Burrow with Hermione beside him. Heck, he’d even take waking up in the tent if it meant it never got this far. He couldn’t hear much between his uncontrollable sobs, Bellatrix’s evil laugh and Harry shuffling beside him. He heard shouting from the death eaters to grab Harry, but Dobby disapprated them across the room and then he felt Harry and Dobby’s hand land on his shoulder. He was sucked out of the air and found himself with Hermione, Harry and Dobby at the Burrow. They had disapparated out of hell, thought Ron.

He thought the day he’d see the burrow again would be the greatest moment of his life, but under these circumstances, he felt grieved and pained.

Harry didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t know where they would be safe. Hermione always decided where they would go next… and to be honest, he just wanted to be around family. He knew Ron agreed.

Ron had not moved off the ground, clutching Hermione close to him. He felt the waves of sob vibrate through Hermione, but they were coming from him. He was shaking terribly. This can’t be real. He kept touching her face, pulling at her arms and trying to find any ounce of life within her pale, small body.

“Hermione.. wake up, please. Bloody hell, this can’t be happening. Please wake up. Be mad at me. Correct me for saying something stupid. Tell me I’m a brainless git. Anything. Just breathe, Hermione. Breathe so I can know you are still here with me”

Harry stared down at his two best friends, wondering how they would move. He felt the weight of the world and he couldn’t find it in him to walk to the Burrow. He felt Dobby grab his hand and he looked down to see the tiny elf sobbing into Harry’s leg. They stood for what felt like forever when Harry saw Ginny running to him, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley right behind her.

“HARRY?! RON?! HERMI-…” Ginny stopped right in her tracks when she noticed Hermione laying in Ron’s arms, sobs running through Ron and tears falling from Harry’s eyes.

“No.. she’s not.. she can’t be..” Harry couldn’t find himself to look at Ginny because he knew he couldn’t handle seeing her cry. Ginny immediately grabbed Harry and held him as sobs come pouring out of him as she embraced him. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were standing off to the side of Ron, comforting him. Nobody spoke for a long time one of the reasons being, what could they say? Hermione was dead. Nothing could bring Ron back right now. There was no word of encouragement that could fix it. A second reason being, the Weasley’s had so many questions and yet, they had no energy or willpower to make Harry and Ron relive the last 24 hours right now.

Molly lifted Ron up off the ground and Arthur try to pick Hermione up, but Ron wouldn’t let go and just continued walking toward the Burrow with Hermione bundled up to his chest. Ginny, Harry and Dobby right behind them. As they stepped inside, Fred and George, shocked to see them, were about to greet them like their usual selves until they noticed Hermione and Ron’s pale, almost lifeless face.

“Ron?! Harr-... What’s going on…”

Ron spoke for the first time in what felt like hours, his voice dry and head so heavy. Molly jolted a little fully expecting anyone else to speak as she held him close to her on the couch, Hermione still in his arms.

“Hermione’s dead.” Ron said looking down at the floor of the Burrow. He heard a few gasps, but was unsure who it was. “Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her and then killed her. Right in front of me.”

Molly was now a full on mess, but hugged Ron tighter, bringing his head down on her chest. Arthur got Ron to at least let him put Hermione comfortably in a room. Ron try to protest arguing she was dead and couldn’t even be comfortable anymore, but Arthur insisted and Ron finally obliged, falling into his mother’s lap. He might as well have had no life in his eyes. He stared, not blinking, towards the fire that was going in the room, his focus going in and out. He saw a figure get down in front him and realized it was Ginny. He locked eyes with her and saw the tears falling. “Ron..I am so sorry.. I.. I don’t know what to do….” “Me neither, Ginny.. I.. I don’t know how to live anymore”

Everyone sniffled and all crowded around Ron as he laid on Molly and just let the emotions run over one another. Arthur had come back from laying Hermione down and he was the first to speak in a long time.

“I am going to cast a spell over Hermione to preserve until we get everything figured out, okay?” He put his hand under Ron’s chin and brought his face up to his. “I have no words that can make this better, okay? I wish I did. I’d be the first to say it, but I think I’ll need help and I am sure you don’t want anyone, but you to do this, right?” Ron felt a sudden weight on his chest. His father was right. He didn’t want anyone else touching Hermione right now except him. He wanted to honor and take care of Hermione, even if she wasn’t here anymore. He’d do it for the rest of his life.

—

Flash forward to Hermione’s funeral

It had been a week since Harry, Ron and a lifeless Hermione returned to the Burrow. Ron dreamed of the day he’d be returning home, but definitely not like this. He felt broken and shattered and had not left his room since then. The only time he did so was when his father and him did a preserving spell over Hermione’s body the day they returned.

Flashback begins

Ron entered the room his dad had placed Hermione and he felt immediate grief. He promised Hermione he would keep her safe. He promised her when he returned to the tent that he would never leave her again. He couldn’t believe how much of an idiot he had been to ever leave her. He vowed in that moment, to himself, that he’d do everything in his power to keep her safe and get to the end of this war.

Arthur had walked up to Ron and had begun going over the spell and how they needed to go about doing it. He gave Ron a minute to collect himself than started speaking enchantments over her body. Ron watched in amazement as his father was walking back and forth over Hermione. He could see the bruises, scarring and even the discoloration all leave her perfect, beautiful body. Ron lifted us his wand to begin his part of the enchantments. It took about 20 minutes and Hermione was laying there and looked so beautiful… for someone who would never get to wake up. Arthur left Ron to have some time alone with Hermione. He heard the door click indicating his dad had left. He looked down at Hermione’s hands and brought his up to cup her hands into his. He brought her hands to his lips, kissing them through shaky tears.

“Hermione, I am so sorry. I failed you, again. I failed you when I left you and I failed you in keeping you safe. I didn’t do enough… I.. I can’t do this without you.. Herimone… please come back. Wake me up from this nightmare…” He laid his head down on top of his hands holding Hermione and let the sobs and tears wave through his body.

Flashback ended

Ron rolled over in his bed so that he was on his side and glanced out the window. The sun was shining and he let out a groan as he lifted out of bed. Today was Hermione’s funeral. He was dreading this day all week. He wanted to make all the arrangements himself, but he just could’t do it. His mum took over. He was okay with it because it helped him to just wallow in the pain he felt. He didn’t have the energy to do anything else. He specially didn’t have the energy to think of her parents. They had no idea Hermione was dead, but at the same time, they had no idea who Hermione was.

Ron explained to his father how Hermione obliviated her parents memories and he explained to Ron how with Hermione dying, there would be no way to restore their memories. The magic went away when she died. Ron felt so much grief for her parents, but at the same time felt immense envy. He hated himself for it, but he wished he didn’t have to feel this pain. He was immediately brought back from those thoughts when he expressed them to Harry one night and Harry said, “Mate, I know it’s hard.. having to feel this pain and let her go, but you don’t have to really, y’know, let her go. She’s always here. In your heart. She’s always going to be the voice in your head talking you down from doing or saying something stupid. She’s always going to be the voice in your head correcting you or throwing some piece of history at you.” He and Harry finally laughed after days of crying and he felt a tiny (very minuscule) weight lift off his shoulders. This wasn’t going to be easy, but he was going to get through. He just didn’t know if he wanted to.

Ron headed downstairs to see his mother at the sink, washing dishes, oddly enough without magic and he made his way to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Hermione (and Harry) was just as much as another child of Molly and Arthur as the other seven. This was not easy for Ron, but it wasn’t easy for anyone else as well.

“I’m sorry, mum… for not being here for any of you guys and just staying in my room… I just-“ Molly immediately dropped the dishes, turned to Ron and cupped his face into her soapy, wet hands. “Don’t. Do not apologize, Ronald. I’m… I am just so sorry you are having to go through this kind of grief at such a young age. I am so sorry..” She choked up on trying to say Hermione’s name and closed her eyes to focus herself and looked back up at Ron “I am so sorry Hermione was taken from you far far too soon” Ron now was crying once again. He didn’t understand how he still had tears to cry. He firmly believed his body would forever grieve and cry over the loss of his favorite bushy brown haired girl. “I love you, mum… so much” He wrapped his arms around Molly for what felt like ages and they just used the comfort of each other to lift themselves back up.

“Alright, hon… let’s make this day as memorable as we can. I know it hurts and life won’t be the same, but she would want us to remember her for the amazing woman she is, she would want us to laugh and honor her in all we do. So. Let’s have at it!” Molly let go of Ron, patting him gently on the shoulders and continued about the house, preparing for Hermione’s wake. Ron stood there, staring out the window at the spot him and Hermione would go to to spend time together. Mostly snog and laugh. He just closed his eyes to gather his thoughts.

“Hermione, I am doing this for you. I am living for you. I want to bring justice for you… I will take today, I will remember you in all of the good. I won’t let grief consume me today, but tomorrow? Tomorrow it begins. I will help Harry bring down those who wronged you and took you away from us. I will breathe for you. I will live for you.”

—

A/N: the rest of the story would take place about like deathly hallows in terms of the battle (minus hermione moments and such!!) if you’d like a part 2 maybe with the battle on how ron would handle it all, his thought process trying to cope without hermione, lemme know!! It would take some time to try and get into ron’s mind and play around, but i’d be happy to try!! I hope you all enjoyed this. Let me know any requests 🥰

[romionearemyhorrocrux]

Ok idk if anyone will see this. There was a Romione fic I read literally YEARS ago. It was an AU, Hermione was moving out to France, I think and it had to do with a flat I can’t remember now but I want to read it, help me

also i can’t believe my favorite fic ever the missing piece by Armaysha is still abandoned

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

Hey, can you do Harry, Ron and Hermione riding the skeeter's article?

"I mean, you've got to admit that that was an excellent catch," Ron said, still raving about the match several hours later much to Hermione's amused exasperation. "The Brazilian team were better overall, I thought, but you've gotta admit, he's still got it, old Krum."

"'Old Krum'?" Hermione laughed. "He's only three years older than you!"

"More like four. He's a September birthday, and I'm March, so..." Ron shrugged. "But the point is: I was supporting Brazil and I think that, overall, they were the better team. But he is certainly the better Seeker."

"The best Seeker in the world," Hermione said, as they made their way through the crowds. 

"Huh," said Ron, contemplating this. "Well, I suppose, yes. He is quite good."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me, who are you and what have you done with Ron Weasley?"

"What d'you mean?" he asked. "C'mon Rosie, keep up!" As their daughter jogged passed them, Hermione elaborated.

"You've hated Krum since our school days," she said. "You used to think I was planning to elope with him!"

"I never thought that--I feared it," Ron replied. "Besides, I like to think I've matured since I was 15..."

"'Like to think' would be right," Hermione said, elbowing him in the ribs. He clutched his hands to his chest in mock-hurt, and she laughed. "Well, no, it's true. You are a much better person than you were at 15--but you weren't bad then, either. I'm just surprised you are so supportive of Viktor is all, especially given the fact that you were supporting Brazil."

"Well, I don't really have any real allegiance to Brazil," he shrugged. "You know me: England, the Canons or the Harpies as long as they're not playing my team. And as I say--his playing was much better than Silva's. I can appreciate a good match when I see one."

"I wish I could go back in time and tell 15 year old you you said that," Hermione laughed. "You'd never believe me."

"Oh, I would," Ron said. "On one condition." Hermione looked disbelievingly at him. "It's true!" he said. "All you'd have to do is show me Rita Skeeter's article from the other day."

"The one where she called you...what was it? Balding and mentally unstable?" Hermione asked.

"I'll have you know my hair is thinning, I'm not bald," replied Ron with dignity. "But yes, that one. And do you want to know why?"

"Oh, do tell..." Hermione said. 

"Well, it turns out I didn't have to worry about you running off with him after all," he explained. "It was actually him and Harry having a torrid affair in that maze, that they've been carrying on on-and-off ever since."

"Well of course!" laughed Hermione. "I'm so glad Rita explained that one to you."

"Yes, so, as I say, I feel like I have perhaps treated him a little unfairly over the years when I didn't really need to," Ron said gravely. "I am no longer the Weasley he should be most afraid of."

"I would agree with that," Hermione nodded. "But on the other hand, I feel that your treatment of him will pale in comparison to anything an enraged Ginny might do. That jinx was nasty!"

"You're not wrong," Ron said. "But some good did come of it." Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I bet Harry that Ginny wouldn't be able to go the entire match without hexing Rita--d'you remember how she flew into the commentary box and hit that git Smith after what he was saying?" His wife nodded, smiling at the memory. "Well, Harry reckon's she's got much better at controlling her temper after having to put up with their terrors all the time, but I've known her longer. I knew she couldn't do it, 'cause I couldn't have either. So I won the bet."

"And what did you win?" his wife inquired.

"Whoever lost has to take the other's kids for a night," Ron said smugly.

Hermione smirked, eyeing Rose and Hugo who were currently taring around their tent in a fit of hyperactive post-match glee. "Do you think they're busy tonight?" 

Technically not accepting prompts at the moment but I couldn't resist this one...sorry for the lack of Harry, I might do something with him and Ginny later. Potentially Ginny being less than impressed with his bet ;)

[hungrygaming]

My Romione Fanfic | Chapter 5

"Well, this has been delightful; but I'm knackered. See you all tomo-"

"George Fabian Weasley. Do not think you are leaving us to clear away this mess!" George froze in mid step. Rolling his eyes, he turned to face his mother. Molly Weasley's small plump figure stood in the centre of the living room. Sweet wrappers, plastic cups, biscuit crumbs, and an assortment of other pieces of rubbish were strewed about around her, as if she were stood in the centre of an explosion.

"But I'm so tired." George cast his eyes downwards. "I-It's been a really long week for me, mum." His voice had lowered considerably. Mrs. Weasley's gaze faltered slightly, before she assumed her usual disapproving stares at George.

"You are not pulling that one on me! Don't you dare try and use your brother as an excuse to skive off work!" She placed her hands on her wide hips, as if the act settled the matter. "Come along, chop chop."

George sighed heavily.

"Nice try mate." Ron muttered to him behind Molly Weasley's back.

"Hermione dear, could you fetch us some black bags from the kitchen cupboard please?" Hermione smiled at Mrs. Weasley, and hastily left the seating area to do as she had been asked.

Having been living in the Burrow for a while now, she knew where practically everything was stored. She knew that Mrs. Weasley hid the good biscuits in the cupboard beneath the sink, which was locked at all times. She knew that because Bill and Charlie were adults, and both had jobs, they had to purchase their own food - which was kept on the top shelf in the pantry. She knew that Mr. Weasley kept a stash of Firewhiskey beneath his armchair, and that he thought no one knew about it, yet George often stole a glass, or two. So when Hermione walked into the Weasley's cosy kitchen she knew instinctively to go to the third cupboard to the left, on the top row, to find the rubbish bags.

She searched the cupboard's packed shelves for the item she needed. Finally spotting the plastic black bags on the top shelf, among several glass bottles filled with strange concoctions, she reached up to take them down; but the roll of black sacks were out of reach. Hermione tried again, standing on her tip toes and flexing her arm as high as possible. Giving up on her hopeless stretching she reached for her back pocket, where her wand was stored.

"Damn" She mumbled to herself, remembering she had left her wand in Ginny's room. Rolling her eyes at herself for being so forgetful, she turned away from the kitchen cabinets to leave the room, but someone blocked her path. Almost running smack into the grey t shirt clad chest she gasped, backtracking her steps. Hermione felt the cool tiles of the kitchen counter pressing against her back. She raised her head slightly, meeting Ron's piercing blue eyes. Without warning he advanced on her slightly. Hermione's eyes widened drastically, giving her the appearance of a deer caught in the headlights. Ron reached up over Hermione's head, extending his tall, lanky frame. She was trapped now, between the breakfast bar and Ron. The fresh scent of his aftershave drifted pleasantly towards her, she got lost in it. Inhaling deeply, wanting more. Hermione closed her eyes, the delicious sense of Ron entrancing her. Suddenly, strong hands were around her. One on her shoulder, another pressed lightly to her waist. 

"Hey, you alright there?" Ron had bent over slightly, bringing himself down to her height. His concerned stares were boring into her. "Hermione? You okay?" He looked torn between amusement and worry.

"Yes. I just, um..." She drifted off, loosing track of what was going on. All she could think about was the slight pressure on her waist. The warmth of Ron's hand was seeping through her shirt, making her feel giddy. They were so close. She could count the number of freckles that mapped his cheeks. 

"You kinda fell into me" Ron chuckled lightly. Hesitantly, he removed his large hands from her small waist, ducking to the ground to pick up the discarded rubbish bags. "Here. I dropped them when I caught you" He handed her the plastic sacks.

"Oh, thanks. And thanks for, um, saving me I guess. I think I'm just a little tired." Flustered more like! She thought to herself. Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. I could have sworn he was going to kiss me...

"Thought you said you slept well" Ron raised an eyebrow questioningly. Hermione could have sworn he was teasing her, referring to their previous nights sleep. Before she could answer, he grinned at her mischievously and left the kitchen. Hermione stayed resting against the counter for a while, to compose herself. Her cheeks were flushed, with a mix of both embarrassment and excitement.

Rays of sunshine poured through the glass window, casting light shadows on the mismatched furniture. As clouds passed the light intensity grew stronger, illuminating the long wooden table in the centre of the room. From only a few feet away she could make out distinctive carvings on the surface of the oak. The Weasley children had all left their mark. Each red haired misfit had scratched their name into their place at the large table. Fred and George's messy scrawl was the biggest of them all, taking up two seats at the dining table; although now only one of those places was occupied during meal times. Ginny's name was carved elegantly, surrounded by small illustrations of flowers, and Quidditch related doodles. Bill and Charlie's signatures were faded slightly, having been there the longest. Percy's name was engraved at the edge of the table, in a minute scrawl, the letters were rigid and neat. Last but not least, Ron's distinctive inscribe caught Hermione's eye. It was the deepest cut of all, as if he had worked on it for weeks, making sure it stayed there forever, that he was never forgotten. An assortment of other scribbles covered the panel of wood. Some had been removed, making the surface uneven, but a few rude swear words had slipped Mrs. Wealsey's notice. 

The loud 'pops' of people Apparating into the Burrow sounded from the living room. Hermione left the kitchen to see who had arrived. 

It was hard to tell exactly who had dropped by, as the throng of people were huddled together in the centre of the room, exchanging pleasantry's. However, one figure within the mass of people she recognized instantly. Luna Lovegood's long white-blonde hair seemed to glow, like a beacon of light. The petite girl wore a light green dress with large bright sunflowers snaking up the sides. Luna noticed Hermione leaning against the door frame, and gave her a friendly smile. The pair had never really been great friends, being the complete opposite of each other, but Hermione respected her greatly. There were times where she wished she could be just like Luna, completely fearless. Unafraid of what anyone thought of her; she seemed free. Luna walked, well, glided really, towards Hermione. Catching her by surprise she flung her arms around her. Hermione found herself in a mass of silvery hair, which had an overwhelming sweet smell of watermelons. She smiled to herself, only Luna. 

"Hi there Hermione!" Luna said in her light sing song voice. "It's been a while."

"Luna, I saw you yesterday." Luna titled her head to the right. "At Fred's wake?" Luna knitted her eyebrows together in confusion. "Never mind. Who else is here anyway?" Hermione asked, wanting to change the subject. As much as she admired her, Loony Lovegood was hard work sometimes.

"Well there's me, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Ginny, George, Har-" Hemione cut her off before she finished listing every single person that was currently standing in the room. 

"I meant who had just arrived." Hermione stated. Luckily, Mrs. Weasley's shrill voice sounded over the loud sea of conversations in the small room.

"Thank you all very much for coming, this is a great help! You know know I was talking to Arthur the other day, about how lazy you lot can be sometimes! Proves me wrong, eh?" Molly chuckled to herself whilst the rest of the group wore looks of confusion upon their faces. Hermione caught Ginny's eye and raised her eyebrows questioningly, Ginny answered with a light shrug. "Now dears, some of you can start by putting the big pieces of rubbish into the black bags, whilst the rest can start on this floor." The group simultaneously bowed their heads to examine the rug laden wooden floor. Crumbs, juice stains, and countless other pieces of dirt were crushed between the fibers of the mat, and wrappers could be seen glistening beneath the floor boards. "There's a spell book on quick cleaning fixes somewhere in the kitchen, hang on loves, I'll just go and fetch it." Mrs. Weasley hastily exited the room, leaving Seamus, Dean, and Neville glaring at the three Weasley's. 

"We only came here for a cuppa tea! Now your mam's got us cleaning!" Seamus whispered accusingly.

"Well I didn't bloody know! Do you think I want to be tidying up?!" Ron replied.

"We don't live here! Not our problem!" Seamus countered.

"Quit it you two! It was you and Dean that made most of the mess, well, and George when he got really drunk and started falling over everything, so it's only fair you help clean it up! Anyway, with magic it'll only take two minutes." Ginny hissed loudly at Seamus.

"Ginny's right." Harry stated, stepping forward into the obscured circle that had been made. 

"Well you would say that, wouldn't ya Harry. I mean, if you didn't she wouldn't be letting you stick your tongue down her throat every five minutes now would she?" Seamus laughed loudly, along with the rest of the group. Ginny stepped forward and punched him playfully on the shoulder; it was apparently harder than it looked though as Seamus began rubbing his arm gently.

Hermione felt Ron bristle by her side. His hands were clenched into a fist, and the look on his face was murderous. Hermione wasn't sure whether he was mad at Seamus or Harry, but either way, she knew she had to do something to calm him down before he physically punched someone, or hexed them into oblivion. He still wasn't comfortable with his best friend dating his sister, which was understandable. Hermione thought as quickly as she could, of ways to cool him down. She couldn't make him leave the room, as it would be obvious as to why he was departing, and Ginny would kick off. Telling him to wouldn't work either, as when Ron gets angry, he looses all rationality, and lets his emotions rule his reason. Without thinking it through, she grabbed his hand. Hermione's hands were small, and dainty, and so she managed to squeeze her fingers beneath his tightly locked fist. As soon as she did so, Ron's grip lessened slightly. He looked away from the scene in front of him, down to their interwoven hands. Hermione looked back and forth from their hands to Ron's expression. After a short while, he looked into her eyes, unsmiling. 'Breathe' she mouthed silently to him. Ron closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. When he released his breath he looked away form Hermione, back to the group, although his eyes seemed glazed, distant. She was about to ask him of what was the matter, when he squeezed her hand lightly; making Hermione grin sheepishly. 

                                               ...

What was supposed to only take two minutes ended up being two hours. The book of cleaning spells Mrs. Weasley had provided them with wasn't much help. Hermione had been allocated the chief of spells position within the group. It had been Ron that volunteered her, deciding to take this as a compliment, and not his way of calling her a know-it-all, she accepted the role. The large book had a fraying brown cover, yellowing pages with curling corners. Most of the ancient scrawl could not be read due to major water damage, and pages being stuck together. The charms Hermione skimmed over were useless to them, being for major cleaning disasters. One, for example, was how to remove gnomes from drain pipes after severe weather conditions. After scanning through the entire book and coming up empty, the team decided to resort to 'Muggle methods' and using the basic, limited spells they knew.

Ginny and Ron had a spat every ten minutes, the majority of them regarding Ginny calling Ron a wimp for not dealing with the spiders that had invited themselves into the Burrow. Seamus and Dean probably made more mess in the process of 'cleaning' the clutter they had made the previous night at Fred's wake; and Luna took to warning George about the Nargles that lurked behind the furniture. Hermione couldn't help but notice that he seemed intrigued by Luna's ramblings. This left Hermione, Harry, and Neville to do most of the work. They worked well together, settling into a nice rhythm. They made their way around the Burrow's living room in a clockwork fashion. Hermione would do the best she could with the little spells she knew, whilst the boys would do the manual labour. By five pm the room was spotless. 

When Ginny, appointing herself as leader of the group, announced that the room was done, they simultaneously collapsed to the now-clean floor. Ron, Harry, Ginny, George, and Luna were leant against the mismatched sofas. George and Luna had resumed their animated conversation, and Ginny was leaning against Harry; Hermione glanced at Ron, longing to be able to be able to do just as her two best friends. A pang of jealousy surged from deep within her. Physically shaking herself, not wanting to feel such a petty emotion, she focused on other matters.

The group stayed that way for a long while, at around seven, when the sky turned a pretty shade of red, Hermione and Ginny left the seating area to make tea and coffee. 

"Argh" Ginny sighed in an aggravated tone whilst plonking herself into Mr. Weasley's large wooden chair, at the head of the table. Hermione began preparing the ordered beverages, filling up the kettle, and lighting the stove. She then joined Ginny at the table, taking Percy's seat.

"What's up?" She asked.

"Ron's doing my head in" Ginny replied, rolling her eyes.

"When doesn't he?" Hermione asked. The pair laughed. Ron and Ginny bickered almost as often as she and Ron did; although Ron and herself were never really mad at each other, arguing was their strange, perverse way of flirting.

"He needs to man up, grow a pair!" Ginny seethed.

"You can't moan at him for being afraid of spiders Ginny! It's a genuine phobia." Hermione defended Ron; she actually thought Ron's fear of spiders was rather sweet.

"No, not that! I'm used to him being a prat like that, I actually find it quite amusing. You know, once I put a sp-" Ginny shook her head, the ends of her flaming red hair whipping around her slender shoulders "never mind, tell you about that later. What I mean is, he needs to stop being an idiot about you!"

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"He's being a right coward. I don't know why he hasn't asked you out properly, you know, like made things official." The kettle let off a high pitched whistle, signalling that the water within had boiled. Hermione left her seat at the table to tend to the tea. She could feel Ginny's eyes on her. "Or has he? You'd tell me though, right?" She questioned.

"Yes, of course Ginny, you're my best friend, I'd tell you anything." She stated, hurt that she thought she didn't trust her. Growing up Ginny was the only real girl friend she'd made, she found it hard relating to other girls her age, but they hit it off straight away. After time, they learnt that they balanced each other. Hermione could calm Ginny's bad temper, much like Ron's, and Ginny often persuaded her to be more courageous, daring her to be bolder. 

"So he hasn't?" She clarified. 

"No. Ronald hasn't, as you say, grown a pair." She stated. 

"But you want him to right?" Ginny asked, blowing her steaming mug of tea; Hermione had only made Ginny and herself a cup, sensing they were going to be in the kitchen for a while.

"Well, I guess so." She blushed. "I thought we kind of already were, I mean after what happened during the war, I just presumed..." She trailed off, embarrassed.

"Me too. But he definitely still likes you." Ginny said, glancing towards the living room.

"How do you know?" Hermione asked.

"Well he can't take his eyes off of you for starters!" She exclaimed. Hermione's cheeks deepened, knowing Ginny was right; she had often noticed Ron's stares, but reading nothing into them, well, not until now.

"Thought you were making us tea too?" Seamus said, making Hermione jump.

"Hold on! If you want it fast you can make it yourself!" Ginny said.

"Alright, alright, don't kill the messenger. I only came here to let ya know that they all want coffee now instead, I didn't mean to interrupt your mothers meeting!" At this Ginny picked up an old issue of Witch Weekly and threw it a Seamus, who ducked, grinning when it missed him.

"'Spose we better get moving then." Ginny sighed, stretching as she hoisted herself  out of Mr. Weasley's large wooden chair.

                                                                             ...

When she and Ginny returned to the Burrow's living room, arms laden with a tray of steaming cups of coffee, they saw that no one had moved much since they had left. Ron and Dean were now playing Wizards Chess, a game that Hermione despised, and Luna and George were now discussing Fred and George's joke shop. Hermione layed the tray in the centre of the circle, allowing the others to help their selves to the drinks. She settled herself down on the thick rug, between Ginny and Ron, whom noticing she had returned, let Harry take over his game. 

"I like your earring's Luna." Ginny said, gesturing towards Luna's slightly elfish ears from across the rug. 

"Oh, thank you, they're radishes." She stated in her dreamy tone. "I have a ring to match, would you like to see?"

"Sure." Ginny replied. Luna began fumbling through the large slits in her vibrant dress. She pulled out an assortment of random objects from her deep pockets; some of which Hermione didn't recognize. Luminous handkerchiefs, fluffy quills, and what appeared to be enchanted socks, on which a small knitted mouse would scurry around. When she had found the item in question, Luna pulled it out of her pockets with a cheery 'aha!'

"Catch Ginny." She said, tossing the ring gently, underarm in Ginny's direction.

There was a very good reason why Luna, much like Hermione, was not on any Quidditch teams. The entire group watched as the ring traveled completely off course, soaring through the air. It seemed to fly in slow motion. Hermione gawped as it spun in mid air, the tiny radish became a red blur. All eyes followed the ring down towards the ground, watch it's elegant twirl, and suddenly come to attention as it began to escape, reeling towards the sofa. Ginny, Ron, and Harry all dived for the golden loop, sending their mugs of coffee to the rug. Three pairs of hands grabbed for the ring, all of which missed. It was gone. Under the dark cavern of the settee. 

"Damn" Ginny muttered to herself. "I'm not putting my hands under there." She motioned towards the gap between the floor and the old fraying sofa.

"Ergh, me neither, I don't think it's ever been cleaned. Imagine the spiders..." Ron's eyes widened, shivering at the thought. Meanwhile George and Hermione seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing. Both had frowns of confusion upon their faces, and were looking around at the group in astonishment. Noticing Hermione's similar expression, George turned to Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione. Remember that thing we all used to do? You know that thing we used to have, it made us all special or something." He said sarcastically. Catching his drift Hermione joined in on his little skit.

"I don't know George. Could it have anything to do with this?" She replied, pulling her wand out of her boot, which she had fetched from Ginny's bedroom earlier. 

George gasped in mock surprise. 

"Yes! Merlin that's it! If only we knew how to use it!" They all laughed, that is except Ginny and Ron, whom was looking back and forth between George and Hermione.

"Ha ha. Very funny, just because we have magic doesn't mean we have to whip our wands out for everything." Ginny gasped and smacked her hand over her mouth. George, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at her in shock. "I - I." She stuttered. They nodded in agreement, knowing exactly what Ginny had intended to say. 

Ginny Weasley, had turned into her mother.

George and Hermione took to giving her sympathetic smiles, whilst Ron was doubled over with laughter.

"Good - luck - mate!" He managed between breaths to Harry, whom was looking almost as worried as Ginny herself.

Wanting to help Ginny by drawing the attention away from her, Hermione suggested they summon the ring from beneath the couch.

"Accio ring!" Hermione said with a flick of her wand. They could hear the ring scuttling on the floor, there was a loud 'clink' before the ring shot out from beneath the settee, covered in dust, into the palm of Hermione's hand. She picked off the large pieces of fluff with the tip of her fingers, and then blew away the smaller particles. She went to pass the ring to Ginny, but she was preoccupied. Handing it back to Luna she inquired why Ginny was on her knees, with her bottom in the air.

"She's trying to find what the ring hit on it's way out." Harry informed her.

When Ginny pulled out her arm from beneath the sofa, the group saw the the object was simply an empty bottle of Firewhiskey. She discarded the glass bottle in the middle of the rug and they all resumed their seats. Dean and Harry had ended their game of chess, and now looked as bored as the rest of them. 

"Tsk, stop it Ron!" Hermione scolded; he had taken to spinning the bottle on its side, which was irritating her.

"Hey!" Seamus exclaimed. "Why don't we have a game of spin the bottle?!

Dean and Seaumus were grinning wickedly at each other, whilst Harry and Hermione had slight disapproving looks upon their faces. The rest of them however, had no idea what spin the bottle was.

"Um, can someone explain what spin a bottle is." Ron said.

"It's a Muggle game." Harry stated. "They tend to play it when they're drunk, hence the empty bottle." He looked to Hermione handing over to her. She rolled her eyes at him. Why must she act as the teacher within the group.

"One person spins the bottle, within a circle, and whoever the neck of the bottle points to, has to kiss the spinner." Hermione remembered watching a sitcom during a summer holiday, where a group of friends played the game. She thought it was silly.

"Cool!" Exclaimed Ron. "Shall we?" Hermione looked at him disapprovingly and he lowered his head slightly, as though he had been reprimanded.

"Well we can't really can we. There are three of us." By 'us' Hermione presumed Ginny meant Weasley's. "And I'm not kissing you or George!" She confirmed Hermione's guesses.

"And I don't particularly want to kiss Harry either." Seeing the wounded look on Harry's face Hermione continued. "You're as much my brother as Ron is Ginny's." Harry smiled, understanding he nodded in agreement.

"We could always do dares instead." Neville suggested. Ron looked eagerly to Hermione. She nodded her head, approving of the idea, and he grinned. 

Ginny, again appointing herself leader, organised the group into an orderly circle, and placed the green glass bottle in the middle of the bodies. 

"Okay, so truth or dare right?" Everyone murmured an agreement. Ginny span first, the thinner end of the bottle pointed to Luna. She looked around the circle with glassy eyes. 

"Truth or dare, Loons?" George asked. 'Loons'? Where had that come from? Hermione thought to herself.

"Truth, please." She answered. Ginny thought for a moment. A long moment.

"Ummm." Ginny took to staring at the ceiling as if a question were written up there among the cobwebs they had missed. George cleared his throat.

"May I?" He asked, Ginny shook her head avidly, clearly thankful she didn't have to think of the question. Hermione herself could see why Ginny had struggled. She couldn't think of a truth question to ask Luna; she wasn't the type to keep secrets, if he had something on her mind, she would say it.

"So Loons, how's your love life?" George asked Luna, twisting slightly in his place on the rug to face her. Hermione was surprised to see that he appeared genuinely interested in the matter.

"Well I suppose I haven't really got one." She giggled. "I'm not seeing anyone if that's what you mean."

"But do you like anyone?" George asked again. Hermione met Ginny's eyes; they were thinking the same thing. Why does George care?

"Yes, I met someone recently, he's rather charming actually." Luna replied in her dreamy voice.

"Who?" George demanded. Luna looked suddenly flustered, her cheeks began to colour and her mouth kept opening and closing, giving her the apperance of a goldfish.

Hermione had never seen Luna like this.

"I think you're only supposed to ask one question, George." She said quietly, but George heard her. Taking the hint, he stopped asking Luna questions.

Harry span next, the bottle landed on George, who chose dare. Harry dared him to sing 'Do The Hippogriff', which George exclaimed was easy. 

                                                 ...

George's a bloody awful singer; worse than Hermione, Ron thought. He sang the entire song, which was more than enough to drive someone insane. After his final chorus of 'can you dance like a Hippogriff', the whole group applauded George, whom got to his feet, and bowed melodramatically. Ron rolled his eyes but clapped anyway. Luna Lovegood was red in the face, due to laughing so much at George's performance. Ron frowned, thinking she was going a bit over the top. George, however, seemed to enjoy the attention, beaming at her.

The bottle was spun again and again, Ron, luckily, had not been landed on, although Ginny accepted Dean's dare to smell Ron's shoe, and had had to run to the bathroom. Ron roared with laughter, along with Dean and Seamus, catching Hermione rolling her eyes at him he attempted to stifle his laugh.

Everybody was in high spirits. George had stolen the half empty bottle of Fire whiskey from beneath Mr. Weasley's plush armchair. Hermione had declined a sip, not being keen on the strong beverage. Noticing she wasn't drinking, Ron also refused a drink. He retreated to the kitchen quietly, unnoticed by the others whom were engrossed in their game of truth or dare. Padding through the kitchen diner, bare footed, he used his wand to light the stove and magically fill the kettle. Whilst the water was boiling he fetched Hermione's favourite mug from the cupboard. The kettle let off it's high pitched scream, steam bellowing from the spout. He poured the piping water into the large ivory mug, making sure not to add any sugar to the tea. (Hermione never took sugar, she said it rotted teeth.) Ron walked carefully back to the living room, not taking his eyes off of the brown, wobbling liquid within the cup. No one had acknowledged he had left, no one but Hermione. As he reached the centre of the room he noticed her watching him intently. He handed her the china mug, making sure to give her the handle side, even if his hand burned a little. She looked a little surprised, smiling at him, she said thank you.

                                                  ... 

"Who's next then?" Ron asked, having missed a couple of spins. 

"It's Ginny's turn to spin now." Neville informed him.

Ginny span the bottle. It completed three whole rotations, and came to a slow stop, pointing to the person two spaces to the right of Ginny. Hermione. She took her eyes off of the stationary green bottle to face the group. 

"So Hermione..." Said Ginny, settling onto her knees. She was smiling deviously, looking from Ron to Hermione. "Do you still like-" She began, being cut off by Hermione.

"I haven't chosen truth or dare yet!" She stated, stopping Ginny short.

"Yeah, but it's obvious you'd choose truth... It's you." Said Dean, opposite Hermione in the small circle. She frowned. She was going to select truth if the bottle had landed on her, but that was besides the point. Hermione knew she had a goody-two-shoes reputation, but did her closest friends still perceive her to be sweet little Hermione, after everything she had gone through in previous years. Temper rising, she decided to defy them.

"Dare." She said simply. Glaring at Ginny; she knew the question she had been about to ask, so she would have had to change to dare either way.

A few of them raised their eyebrows in surprise, but Ginny simply smiled even more mischievously than she had before. Had she planned this? Oh Merlin, what's she going to give me? Hermione fretted.

"Alright then." Ginny pretended to think, though it was blindingly obvious that she had already made up her mind. "How about you kiss Seamus." It wasn't a question. That was it, the dare.

"I thought we weren't playing the normal version of spin the bottle?" Harry asked, seeing how uncomfortable Hermione looked. 

"Yes, because too many of us are related, and it would be weird, but Hermione and Seamus aren't related, are they?"

"Yeah, but-" Harry protested, clearly not approving of Ginny's sudden, apparent cruelty.

"And it's not like they're close friends or anything. I'm sure Seamus won't mind?" Ginny turned away from stricken looking Hermione to an eager Seamus.

"No mam." He said, grinning. Ginny looked to Hermione, whom was staring at Ron, whom was focusing on Harry's shoe. Luna, George, Neville, and Dean, looked as though they were watching a tennis match. Their heads were darting back and forth between Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Seamus. Harry, meanwhile, seemed to be attempting to catch Ron's eye.

Ginny coughed lightly, prompting Hermione.

Hermione moved her mug of tea aside, and began to kneel unwillingly towards Seamus. Pushing the bottle aside, she crawled a couple of steps, into the centre of the circle. She felt as though she was on a stage. Seamus had met her in the middle; he had stopped grinning, noticing how little Hermione wanted to do this.

A tight knot in Hermione's stomach had formed. The closer she got to Seamus, the more it clenched. She had only ever kissed Ron properly before. Viktor Krum had tried going further than a light peck on the cheek, but Hermione had never felt right about it. She knew now, that it was because she only had eyes for Ron; and still did. Just close your eyes, and do it. She thought. The quicker you do it, the sooner it'll be over.

Leaning forward, she caught a whiff of Firewhiskey from Seamus's breath. When the pair locked lips, she screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to acknowledge whom she was kissing. It wasn't bad, but it was different. Seamus's aftershave was slightly overwhelming, the strong scent of oranges hit her with force. His lips were large, and chapped, and she found the kiss awkward. After only a couple of excruciating moments, a loud clash sounded behind her. She broke apart from Seamus, who kindly looked away from her flushed face. 

Attempting to discretely wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, she saw Harry rush past her, through the open Burrow door, out into the blackness.

"What happened?" She asked Ginny, who was looking towards the door, she looked torn between satisfaction and worry. "Ginny?" 

"Ron took off, he knocked over the table. Harry's gone after him." Dean answered for Ginny, whom was now staring at the ground

"Happy now?" Hermione asked her angrily. This was all Ginny's fault. She knew what she was doing. Why? Why on Earth would she dare her to kiss anyone in front of Ron, knowing full well how they both felt. 

"Hermione, I didn't think he'd-"

"Save it." Hermione said seethingly as she passed to upturned coffee table, following Harry and Ron into the night.

                                                ...

The air was cold. Goosebumps erupted on Hermione's arms the moment she stepped out of the Burrow's door; though she didn't mind. The chill would help to calm her. The urge to scream, let out her anger at Ginny was fading slightly as she walked through the high grass in search of Ron. 

"Hermione! Wait!" She could hear Ginny running behind her, trying to keep up with her long strides. "Let me explain. Please." She pleaded.

Hermione ignored her.

"I thought he would do something, step forward, prevent you from kissing him. I thought he'd get so jealous he couldn't stand it, and finally do something! I'm sorry, I didn't mean for him, and you, to get so upset! Hermione?" Ginny finished breathlessly. After a few minutes, Hermione finally spoke.

"I think they're by the Quidditch field." 

"What? Y-you're not going to shout at me?" She asked, surprised.

"No. I'm mad at you; you didn't think it through, but I know you were trying to help." Hermione replied calmly.

"So you forgive me?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"Yes, I forgive you." She said with a laugh. "Now help me find Ron, he's probably hexed Harry out of anger by now."

They walked to the edge of the large expanse of cut grass that was the Weasley's Quidditch pitch, to find Harry standing alone, his wand tip alight.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked when she and Ginny reached him in the middle of the pitch.

"He Apparated back to the house when he saw you coming." Harry said.

"Is he angry at me?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"No, I think he's pissed off with you if anything." He replied, looking at Ginny. "You knew how he would react! What did you go and do that for?" Harry said accusingly. 

"I thought it'd make him jealous!" Ginny said exasperatedly. "Merlin I wish I'd never done it now! Everyone's having a go at me! Even George called me a prat." Ginny's eyes began to water; Harry was instantly by her side.

"That's because you are." He mumbled into her flaming hair. She laughed into Harry's chest. Hermione suggested that they return to the Burrow, and get some sleep, it had to be into the early hours of the morning by now. 

When they got back the cups of tea and coffee had been cleared away and only George, Neville, and Luna remained. 

"Thanks for clearing up guys." Harry said the Luna and Neville appreciatively. 

"That's alright. Dean and Seamus told us to say goodnight, they've gone home, Seamus felt a bit awkward, you know..." Neville trailed off, purposefully not looking in Hermione's direction. "We better be off too."

"You two are staying together?" George interjected suddenly.

"No no, I'm just going to make sure Luna gets back safely." At this George frowned.

"Well, she lives closer to us than you Neville, mate. I'll drop her by, it's no problem." 

"Are you sure? It's no trouble for me, I like being out of the house, away from my Gran." Neville said jokingly.

"Well, she's surely in bed now, so you won't have to see her. Really, I'll take Luna." George replied, apparently not getting the joke. Hermione met Ginny's puffy eyes, George not getting a joke? Maybe he's gone mad, Hermione thought.

Neville and George finally agreed that Neville would travel straight home alone, whilst George would Apparate with Luna back to her house.

"Come along then Loons." George said cheerfully, holding out his arm for Luna to take. She smiled at him sleepily, holding on to his hand, and with a slight turn, they were gone. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny ascended the stairs together, all feeling rather drowsy after a long night. When they reached the first floor landing, Hermione entered the small, cramped room without Ginny, as she was saying goodnight to Harry just outside. She changed into her comfortable cotton pajamas, brushed her hair, turned out the lights, and climbed into bed. Fifteen minutes later, when Ginny finally arrived, Hermione closed her eyes, steadied her breathing, feigning sleep; giving Ginny privacy. 

                                                     ...

Hours later, Hermione found that she could not sleep. Her single bed felt unable to contain her as she repeatedly changed position, hoping to drift off into darkness. She found herself staring up towards the ceiling, up towards Ron's bedroom, four floors up. Hermione knew why she couldn't sleep. She knew that her mind craved a certain fresh pine scent, a familiar feeling of comfort, and protection, and safety. She knew that her body longed to hold a certain pair of large, warm hands, itched to touch and explore a certain body, and yearned to caress a certain pair of lips. She needed Ron. She was used to this emotion, familiar with the dull ache that would form at the pit of her stomach; but it was stronger now. The longing to be with him had intensified after last night. She needed to do something, take her mind off of it all, before she climbed the stairs and crawled into bed with him, no matter the consequences. Stepping lightly out of bed, as not to wake the still figure in the bed beside her, she tiptoed over to the paneled door and shut it tenderly behind her.

                                                     ...

Ron grabbed for his wand on the old kitchen table, raising it to chest level, as he realised Hermione was at the kitchen door.

"I come in peace!" Hermione said softly. He apparently hadn't heard her come down the stairs.

"Sorry, habit I guess..." Ron said, gesturing towards his now lowered wand. Hermione knew what he meant. She never used to feel so wary at the Burrow. She never jumped when something sounded expectantly. Before her reflex would have been to glare at Fred and George, as they'd have been the source of the noise, but now her subconscious automatically presumed she was in mortal danger.

"I know." Hermione replied. "I'm so jumpy now." Ron nodded, understanding. "Mind if I sit?" She asked.

"Yeah, of course." Ron said slowly. "Want tea?" He asked before she sat down at the large wooden table.

"Please." He left his place, Hermione taking it as he poured her a mug of steaming liquid. When he returned from the kitchen counter, Ron sat in the chair beside her, which Bill usually occupied. Hermione began tracing the letters that Ron had carved into the tarnished wood.

"Can't sleep either then?" Ron asked. Hermione shook her head. 

The air was tense. They were used to silence. In the weeks spent together, isolated from the rest of the world, they had grown accustomed to the stretches of quiet whilst they were thinking, retreating into their own minds. It had been a comfortable silence. Not anymore. Before nothing was unsaid, lingering in the air. Tonight was different. Hermione could feel butterflies in her tummy, not the pleasant sort that appear when you're nervous; but the kind that push angrily against the surface, desperate to be free, the kind that materialise when you're full of guilt. When you feel so bad and awful for your misdoing the butterflies can't stand the shame that bubbles inside of you, pounding against the insides of your stomach, determinedly trying to escape the overwhelming mass of guilt slowly choking them...

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione burst out. Her sudden outburst had started Ron, he had gotten to his feet in alarm. Realising there was no danger, except maybe his mother being awoken and extremely mad, he sat down again on the small kitchen chair.

"Merlin you scared me! What are you going on about?" He asked.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione repeated, tears began to leak from the corner of her almond eyes.

"I gathered! But what for?" Ron looked searchingly into Hermione's eyes, which were now glazed with tears, he rose from his chair once more to comfort her. It was an awkward hug as Hermione was sat down, but she appreciated it none the less. Ron patted her clumsily on the back, whispering soothing words into her bushy hair. She dried her eyes from over his shoulder, making herself calm down. Ron crouched down in front of her, balancing on the balls of his bare feet, he placed his large hands on Hermione's knees to steady himself. The warmth of them seeped through her cotton pajamas, making her feel giddy; almost making her decide against bringing up what was upsetting her so.

"For earlier. Th-the kiss. I didn't mean anything, I promise. A-and I'm so sorry Ron, I tried to find you to explain, because I knew you were upset." Wretched tears sprang from her eyes once more, obscuring her vision. Ron's face became a blur with a nest of red resting on his head. When she wiped the tears away angrily, she saw that he was smiling at her.

"I'm not mad at you, just Ginny really, she made you do it." Hermione beamed. He wasn't mad at her! 

"She was just trying to make you jealous..." Hermione trailed off, regretting mentioning it.

"Well it worked. Harry told me why she did it." Hermione had resumed her tracing of Ron's name, lost in her thoughts, she was only half listening to what he was saying. Ron took hold of her hand, jogging her out of her reverie. "He explained why Ginny felt the need to jog me to my senses. I just wish she could have found a better way." He gave a shaky laugh. "I'm sorry, for not fixing things between us."

"Fixing?" Hermione asked, not knowing what was broken in the first place.

"N-no, not that we need fixing, just you know, mending the cracks, we, I mean I, kind of fell apart, after-- after Fred. I forgot about us. I forgot about everything. The guilt just, it ate me up, and nothing was real. And then you came, and it was like a light, you know? I just had to pull on this silver cord, the more and the harder I tugged, the clearer you were. You were my lifeline, you guided me through a dark tunnel, helped me out of the deepest part of my mind." Hermione was crying again, nothing could have kept her eyes dry through that. "I did this, when I was fourteen." He had guided her hand to the leg of the table, and placed it over a minute scribble. Hermione had to squint to see what it said, she fingered it, trying to make out what it read. She heard a click as Ron dispersed light from the Deluminator, she could see clearly now. Her heart warmed. 

A ragged heart, with sharp edges, and the letters H.G had been carved into the thick leg of the dinner table.

She turned to Ron. He looked at her questioningly. 

"I've wanted to show you that for a while, and..." He stared down at her, taking a step closer. There was virtually no space between them now. Hermione raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. Not speaking for a while, she parted her lips, about to ask him what was the matter, but she never got the chance.

Ron bent his head, and kissed her on the lips. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, but she soon closed them and began to kiss him back. It had been almost a month since they had returned from Hogwarts, a long time since Ron and she had been in the Room of Requirement, since they had locked lips; but the sweet strawberry taste of Ron's full lips seemed strangely familiar. He had wrapped his arms around her, which she was glad for, as her knees didn't seem capable of supporting herself at the present moment. Her arms had been hanging limp by her side, much like the rest of her body, they had become paralyzed by sweet surprise. Now she placed one on Ron's broad steady shoulders, and raked the other through his hair, she felt his body shiver with pleasure. Ron attempted to run his hands through Hermione's hair, but when he encountered several large knots, he resorted to running them up and down her back, playing with the hem line of her shirt, she laughed at this, her petite frame shaking within his arms, he smiled in return, which she felt, rather than saw.

"Evening." Said George from behind them. Ron and Hermione broke apart suddenly. Hermione had forgotten that he had taken Luna home. Why's he back so late? She wondered. "Don't mind me, I'm off to bed." And with a wink in Ron's direction, he hurried out of the room.

Hermione dared not talk, not wanting the taste of Ron's lips to ever leave hers. She felt herself blush furiously under his gaze. They stood for a moment, just watching each other, amazed at the affect they had on one another. Hermione's stomach did back flips, still feeling giddy from their perfect kiss.

"I've wanted to do that." Ron finished at last.

A.N: Yep, so this is beyond cheesy but that's the only way I could think to write it!  Thanks if you read it, let me know what you think, any improvements or whatnot :) 

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

ROMIONE PLS something cute and post-war?

Hermione pulled a face. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t want to wake my parents. And also, yes, but I suppose not like that…”

He grinned and pulled her onto his lap. “Well, good morning!” he said.

"Ssh!" she hissed at once, slapping her hand back across his mouth. It wasn’t quite the reaction he’d been hoping for. "We can’t wake my parents; you know I’m not supposed to be in here!" she whispered.

"Why don’t you just use Muffliato?” he whispered back.

"You know why—I promised my parents I wouldn’t do any magic in the house," she replied.

Ron rolled his eyes, but didn’t push it. Hermione’s relationship with her parents had been precarious at best since she had bought them back from Australia, and they had a strong aversion to anything magical. He wasn’t going to risk upsetting them further and end up being banned from coming round (to stop over in the guest room only, of course).

"Anyway," Hermione continued, still whispering. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"What’ve you got?" Ron asked.

"Cereal, toast, porridge," she offered. "Probably some yogurt and fruit, if you wanted. Definitely bacon—I could do you a bacon sandwich. Or eggs! Poached, scrambled, boiled with soldiers…or fried, with some of the bacon, and I could find some beans and you could have a small English… Or we might even have some croissants at the back of the freezer, if you fancied being fancy. What?! Ssh!"

Ron had begun to laugh, stifling the sound in Hermione’s shoulder. “What?” she asked again.

"I was just thinking about a few months ago," he said, sobering. "It’s not funny, really. Breakfast then was a few berries, if we were lucky; now there’s more choice than in the poshest hotels!"

"I know," Hermione said. "Do you remember when Harry got that box of cereal bars from the cornershop in Leicester and we thought we’d died and gone to heaven?" 

"Or when me and you braved a supermarket under the cloak and we got that family size box of cornflakes but no milk?" Ron sighed. "Even now, the first thing I feel when I see a meal in front of me is massive, massive relief," he said.

"That first day at Hogwarts, after the battle," Hermione began. "Despite everything that had happened, when I first saw all the tables loaded with food, I swear I turned into Scarlet O’Hara: ‘God help me, I will never go hungry again!’”

"I don’t know who she is," Ron said, "but I feel we could be friends…"

"Maybe not, but, more importantly: you never answered my question," Hermione said. "What do you want for breakfast?”

"That’s easy," Ron said, grinning. "You." He kissed her, and, despite it all, neither of them thought about food for quite a while.

[hungrygaming]

My Romione Fanfic | Chapter 4

Light seeped through the bottom of the door, partially illuminating the room. Hermione opened her eyes, suddenly alert. The bathroom door handle turned then came abruptly to a halt.

"Who is it?" She asked hesitantly. Her voice croaked slightly from her lack of using it, due to it being the middle of the night.

"Hermione?" She sighed a breath of relief. Thank Merlin it was Ron. Hermione had been sleeping, well trying to, sleep in the Weasley's bathtub for a few hours now. She had been wandering around the Burrow searching for somewhere to rest, but having no luck. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had retreated to bed soon after settling their guests. Some of their distant relatives had opted for staying the night as they were a little too tipsy to apparate home. This caused a slight problem for herself, and the other Weasley's as many of the rooms they usually occupied were in use. Ginny and Hermione's room was taken by Bill and Fleur, and so Ginny took the only free sofa - George, Percy, and Harry settling into the two remaining couches and one large arm chair. She had considered sleeping under the stars but a light rain had began to fall, so there she was. Laying stiff and cramped in a cold steel bathtub. "Hermione? What's going on?"

She walked across the cool tiled floor to unlock the door. Ron looked half asleep. His hair ruffled and goosebumps on his arms from the slight chill in the air. He glanced behind her to see the makeshift bed of thin sheets and mismatched cushions. "You're not sleeping in the bath are you?" He wore a look of concern.

"No Ron. I just thought it might be cold so I gave it my duvet. What do you think?" She snapped. He looked hurt and she regretted her tone immediately. "Sorry, I just haven't gotten any sleep."

"Why aren't you in your room? Is Harry shacking up with Gin again? I wondered where he was." Ron uttered the words with such disgust, Hermione tried immensely hard to hide her amusement. 

"Bill and Fleur are in our room, so Ginny, George, and Harry are on the settees. Hold on, where are you sleeping?" She realised she hadn't come across Ron on her travels.

"In my room of course. I ain't letting that lot sleep in my bed." He scrunched up his freckled nose.

"Ron, they're your family! Besides, I doubt they'd want to sleep in your room! It's a rubbish tip! And why is Harry curled up in the arm chair if your room is free? I could have slept there!" She rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

"Dunno, he must've fallen asleep." Ron shrugged. "You can take my bed if you like, I'll take Harry's sleeping bag on the floor." He had lowered his voice considerably and Hermione had to strain her ears to hear what he was saying.

"Oh, thank you Ron, but I couldn't, really. And besides, the baths...It's-well, it'll do. It's only for tonight."

"Don't be stupid Hermione. Go on up, I'll bring up your blankets when I'm done in here." She didn't have time to protest as Ron had shut the bathroom door. Reluctantly she began climbing the stairs to Ron's attic room.

                                                      ...

Even in the darkness Ron's room was bright. The burnt orange walls seemed to glow with light. The faces of the Chudley Canons, literally,  beamed down at Hermione. 

She had taken to perching lightly on the edge of the bed as she waited for Ron to arrive. Memories came flooding back into her mind. Countless summers were spent here, in this very room. With the pitiful amount of time they had had as children, this is where they spent it. Harry and Ron making silly jokes she herself didn't find humorous in the slightest. Game after game of wizards chess - all won by Ron of course, fretting over school on her behalf, and above all, being a family. That's what they were after all. The bond the trio shared could never be severed, the war had proven that. All they really needed was each other. Hermione shivered. Whether it was from the cold chill in the night air, or the anticipation of being alone with Ron, she didn't know. Though she highly suspected the latter. 

The soft padding of feet echoing off of the old crumbling walls alerted Hermione of Ron's approach. She watched as the decorative brass handle turned, and the old wooden door creaked open. Ron smiled at her tentatively as he stepped over the threshold. White linen draped over his arms. She rose from her place on the bed to take the soft white blankets and lay them on the small space of floor beside Ron's bed. She finished by placing her plump pillow at the foot of Ron's bed and gave herself a nod. The makeshift bed looked rather comfortable. 

"Thanks" Said Ron from behind her. She turned to see him leaning casually against the closed door, his arms crossed over his broad chest. She tilted her head slightly to the side, questioningly. "For making the bed..." Ron prompted. Still confused, she knitted her eyebrows together. "What?" Ron now wore a similar expression to herself.

"Why did you say thanks?" She asked.

"'Cause you made up the bed for me, I could've done it myself. I'm not completely hopeless you know." 

"Oh, Ron. I made the bed for myself, I'm not letting you sleep on the floor! You've already saved me from embarrassing encounters in the bathroom!" She protested.

"Nah, it's fine, really. Me and Harry have been taking turns on the floor since we got the double bed." The Weasley's had invested in a large double sized bed for Ron as he had truly outgrown his small singular one. It was laden with thick cream sheets, light pumpkin orange tapestries, and an assortment of small cushions. Just from sitting on it she could tell that the cot was cozy. "I'm used to it." He was slowly making his way towards Hermione, inching forward.

"Honestly Ron, I would feel bad. Just let me sleep on the floor, okay?" She smiled, and shook her head reassuringly. As comfortable, and inviting, as Ron's bed looked she didn't think she'd be getting much sleep anyway. Just knowing that he was lying in such a close proximity to her set every part of her on edge. She was aware of the soft shivers that coursed through her as she argued with him. Making her toes curl with excitement. 

"I'm really not gonna take no for an answer Hermione, so you may as well give up." Ron shrugged. He watched her intently, waiting for her to take the bait. She did. She really didn't give him enough credit sometimes. 

"Give up? Ronald Weasley, when have you ever known me to give up?!" The side of Hermione that had sorted her to Gryffindor, rather than Ravenclaw, sparked. Ron began to chuckle lightly to himself, as entertaining as pleasurable as the argument was, he really did need to sleep. It had been a long day. He had never cried, and laughed so much in twenty four hours, or drank quite so much fire whiskey. 

"You sleep in the bed, and to pay me back you can make me breakfast in the morning. How's that sound?" Ron wore a large grin on his face. Hermione wasn't smiling, or showing any indication that she had agreed, but he knew, he just knew, that he'd won her over. "So...What do ya think? Yes? No?" 

"I think, Ronald, that you're quite possibly the cheekiest git ever, but yes. Fine. Thank you." Hermione narrowed her eyes at him whilst hopping lightly up on to the bed. The sheets were cool and smelled of Ron. When she had snuggled down beneath the covers and had rested her head on the plump pillow she released a suppressed sigh. Ron laughed lightly at this.

"Tired?" He asked quietly.

"Exhausted" Hermione rolled onto her side. She was now near enough to the edge of the bed that she could just see Ron. He was laying on his back, his arms behind his head. He had his eyes closed. His strawberry blond eyelashes formed crescent moons on his freckle splatted cheeks.

"I guess it's been a long day." She watched as countless emotions played on his features. He reached out a long, strong arm to grab something from the counter at the foot of the bed. With a click the light from the lamp in the corner of the cramped room diminished. Ron placed the Deluminator back on the glassy top on the cabinet. He whispered to Hermione "Goodnight".

"Night, Ron." She replied through the darkness.

                                                          ...

As the hours wore on the night became warm. Uncomfortably warm. Hermione squirmed beneath the sheets; feeling sticky, and irritable. She kicked the duvet off of herself. It rolled slowly down to the floor, settling over Ron's still figure.

"Bloody hell, I'm hot enough without a thick quilt on me thanks!" He mumbled from beneath the blankets. He passed the duvet up to Hermione; where she pushed it to the end of the bed, tucking just her toes beneath it.

"Can't sleep either then?" She asked.

"No, it's stifling in here! And my back is killing me. The sheets aren't thick enough." Ron answered hoarsely, whilst rubbing his neck and lower back.

"We could switch if you like? I can't sleep anyways." She offered, knowing he would refuse.

"No Hermione, it's fine." He replied, giving her a reassuring smile, though wasn't satisfied as the floor really was old and hard.

"Then- well, at least then top and tail with me?" What?! Hermione's eyes widened at her assertiveness, as did Ron's. What on Earth had possessed her to suggest such a thing? She had just asked Ron to share the bed with her. Ron's familiar taunt of 'Who are you, and what have you done with Hermione Granger?' came to mind. She attempted to find a way to backtrack in her mind, coming up empty. She would just have to wait for the embarrassing moment when Ron said n-

"Um, okay." He eased his large frame up from the dark wooden floor, climbing lightly, and with such ease, into the large bed (Hermione had practically had to jump to reach the high framed cot.) Unconsciously, Hermione had moved as far away as possible from Ron. Her flannel night shirt covered back, was pressed against the cool walls, on the far side of the bed.

Ron had used the discarded quilt as a pillow and was lying on his back, staring upwards at nothingness. After a few moments, Hermione had managed to compose herself. It was Ron, her best friend, why was she panicking. They were just laying at opposite ends of the bed; like kids. No harm in that, right? She smiled to herself, her previous reaction now seemed silly. She turned to her side where she was met by Ron's feet. Ron was extremely tall, almost six foot two inches; resulting in him having rather large feet. Though Ron had a new, bigger, bed his toes still touched the headboard. His - once black socks - had several small holes at the heel and toe and they seemed to be emitting an odd smell. Hermione scrunched up her nose.

"Ron! Your feet smell absolutely vile!" She whispered loudly to Ron, who had fixed his gaze on her at the sound of her voice. She almost got lost in his light blue orbs before catching herself, coming back to the present. "I am not sleeping next to them! Do you ever wash?!" She highly dreaded the answer.

"Of course I do! I'm not filthy! I juts couldn't find a pair of clean socks this morning so... I put on the first pair I grabbed." His ears had reddened slightly.

"And where exactly did you find those?" She looked at the ragged material clinging to Ron's feet with disgust, the smell really was awful.

"Under my bed...next to an old apple core." He cast his eyes down, avoiding Hermione's disapproving stares. She shuddered at the thought of what lurked beneath Ron's bed, but said no more, the subject of his general messiness was clearly making him uneasy.

"Well, you'll have to sleep up this end then." She nodded towards the pillow adjacent to her own. Her cheeks heated at she watched him look from the pillow to herself, measuring their closeness. 

                                                                                             ...

After saying goodnight, for the second time, Hermione and Ron turned away from each other; Hermione facing the peeling amber wallpaper, and Ron the opposite wall, from which the clock hung. He was undoubtedly counting down the minutes until he could get out of the immensely awkward situation they had gotten themselves in.

Hermione rolled over, so she was lying on her back. She crossed her arms over her flat stomach and watched white shapes dance on the insides of her eyelids. Moments later the mattress wobbled slightly as Ron also switched his sleeping position. His breathing was uneven, often changing pace; meaning that he was not asleep. Sweat began to seep from the palms of Hermione's hands. She unwrapped her forearms from their crisscross, and rested them by her sides. The small, fine white blonde hairs on her arms prickled, standing on edge, as they became aware of something close. She edged her arm closer to the unknown object, curious. As her creamy skin made contact she realised that it was not something, but someone.

Ron's arm was warm, the thin red hairs that layered his skin tickled slightly. Unable to resist, Hermione moved her forearm closer to Rons, to find that he was doing the same, she smiled to herself when their arms met in the middle. Somehow their hands found each other, their fingers intertwining. She felt eyes on her. She turned her head gently to the side, to be met by a pair of shocking blue eyes. Ron smiled at her, opening his mouth to say something, then deciding against it. Hermione arched her eyebrows questioningly, urging him to go on. He shook his head slightly; though she wanted desperately to know what he was going to say, how he was feeling in that moment, she opted not to, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

                                                     ...

Hermione awoke to a light knocking. Opening her eyes drearily and squinting into the harsh sunlight that streamed through the window, she collected herself mentally. It was morning. Nine am. She was in Ron's painfully bright room. She had slept here, in Ron's room, in Ron's bed, with Ron. Something solid beneath Hermione's head heaved slightly. The something was warm, and solid, and moved steadily up and down, at a gentle and even pace. The something smelt strangely familiar. Like new parchment, freshly mown grass, and...toothpaste. The something, Hermione realised with a jolt, was Ron. 

Ron's sleeping figure heaved again as he gave a loud snore, awakening himself, and startling Hermione. He sat quickly upright, looking frantically around the small room, his mop of ginger hair bounced atop his head as it shook vigorously from side to side. Hermione had been practically thrown off of his broad chest, and so settled herself at the bottom of the bed. She watched Ron as he slowly came to his senses. 

"Morning." She said lightly, testing the waters. Ron was not a morning person. Over the summers she had spent at the Burrow, Ron would often stumble out of bed at two in the afternoon asking for breakfast. 

"Huh? Oh, mor-ornin." He replied, yawning. "Sleep well?" Ron asked. Had he noticed? Does he know how we slept? Hermione thought to herself.

"Um, yes. Yourself?" She avoided his gaze, embarrassed. On one level she hoped he   hadn't noticed how they had ended up sleeping - Hermione's head resting on Ron's chest - but on the other hand, she would be disappointed if he hadn't, and even more so if he had been uncomfortable, as she most certainly had not.

"Yeah, really well." At this Ron's ears reddened, and he smiled shyly at Hermione. Yes, he most definitely remembered, Ron was a lot of things, but never shy. Hermione felt her cheeks warm.

"Ron? Are you awake?" The insistent knocking at the door had grown progressively louder. The brass handle had began to turn. Ron gave a startled look at Hermione, but before either of them had any time to panic, or react, Harry had walked into the small room. "Oh, you are u-" Harry frowned as he took in the scene. Though Hermione and Ron were sat at opposite ends of the bed, it was obvious they had slept together. There were no remnants of Hermione's makeshift bed on the floor. Both of their hair's were ruffled, and they both wore the same flushed tone. Hermione squirmed slightly on her place on the bed. Hermione had not felt so awkward since walking in on Harry and Ginny, and so she knew exactly how Harry was feeling. Harry frowned, opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly left the room. 

Ron cleared his throat.

"Well..." He bit his lip.

"Well... that was sufficiently awkward." Hermione said lightly, attempting to lessen the obvious tension in the air. "I um, think I'm going to get some breakfast. Coming?" She asked.

"Yeah, I'll go down after you though, or else it'll look like...we um..." Ron's ears reddened further.

"Oh! Yes, of course. Brilliant." 

"Don't sound too surprised! I do have a brain you know." The pair laughed. This was it, Hermione thought to herself. This is what I've wanted, for so long. Just us. Me and him, together. Hermione's mind began to wander, her head reeling with possibilities. The future seemed brighter now. Images of big houses, wedding vows, family dinners, job stresses, red haired children, jack russell's, arguments, and above all, love, came rushing to mind. Hermione was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of Ron's stomach growling. She jumped off of the high framed bed, wriggled her her toes, and stretched her arms high above her head. She tried to ignore Ron as he dived back under the beds covers when a strip of her toned abdomen was exposed; though she couldn't help but smirk to herself, and feel a twinge of perverse satisfaction. 

She steeled herself as she began hopping lightly down the rickety Burrow stairs to breakfast; where she would undoubtedly have to face Harry, and apologize again, for her dreadfully unlucky timing.

[hungrygaming]

My Romione Fanfic | Chapter 3

Complete and utter chaos, was the only way Hermione could describe the day. She had never seen such madness. Even or the Weasley's - who were notorious for their lack of organisation - this was bad. She couldn't help smiling to herself though: Fred. This is how he would have wanted it to be. Her thoughts were confirmed by the sight of George standing in the corner of the Burrow's living room smirking to himself. 

Hermione had prepared herself for a day of tears, and sadness, but apparently she needn't have done so. All of the Weasley family were in unusually good spirits considering that it was Fred's funeral. She suspected that it was simply because they were all scurrying around the house preparing things for later in the day when their other relatives would arrive. Her prediction was that when the ceremony actually began, and all had settled, the reality of the situation would hit them, hard. 

"Hermione? You haven't seen Ron and Harry have you?" Ginny Weasley wore a pretty black dress and bold red lipstick which almost matched the fiery shade of her hair. 

"No, I haven't seen Harry all day, and Ron disappeared this morning. Do you want me to go and find them?"

"Yeah, that'd be great thanks, Mum's freaking out. She thinks Ron's gone off in his own little world again." Ginny rolled her eyes and gave a slight laugh, Hermione forced herself to join in. Mrs. Weasley wasn't the only one that was panicking about Ron. Hermione had been worrying about Ron since the morning, when he had asked her to stay with him throughout the day. She had gotten changed into a deep purple dress with a light polka dot pattern - Ginny had kindly lent it to her as she didn't possess such clothing. When you've been on the run for a year pretty dresses aren't the most practical items of clothing. Hermione had quickly pinned up her wavy hair and rummaged through Ginny's draws for some makeup. She wasn't the type of girl to worry about her appearance, but today she wanted to look nice - she wanted to look good when when meeting Ron's relatives. When she had taken one final look at herself in the bedroom mirror she left the room expecting to see Ron waiting for her, as he said he would, but he was no where to be found. She had had a quick look around the Burrow but couldn't find the specific red head she was searching for. 

                                                ...  

"I miss this." Said Ron through a mouth full of apple. "Y'know just us? Running away, going on our little adventures."

"I wouldn't call running from the darkest wizard of all time a little adventure, Ron." Hermione said pointedly. 

"You know what I mean." And she did. She really did miss being away from the rest of the world. Since the war Harry, Ron, and herself hadn't had much time to themselves. Everyone wanted to know about their time on the run, they were constantly being badgered by the press. Then there was the political side of things: the Ministry of Magic had of course wanted to know everything that they knew. After all of that, and the time they had spent with their families, the trio hadn't had much time for themselves. 

Hermione had found Harry and Ron hiding by the edge of the quidditch field. She had attempted to get the pair back to the house and ready for their visitors. She attempted to anyway. Now she found herself sitting on the dewy grass - most probably ruining Ginny's dress - enjoying the mid day sunshine. 

"Now you two I expected, but Hermione, skiving off of work? Never." All three heads turned towards the source of the voice. Ginny was stood grinning down at them shaking her head in disbelief. "If I knew you lot were dodging Mum and that lot sooner, I would have joined you!" 

"Gin, move your arse, your'e blocking the sun!" Ron complained. Ginny responded by kicking his leg and lowered herself onto the ground next to Harry. Soon Ginny was practically sitting in Harry's lap. Their arms were draped over each other, Ginny's head was resting on Harry's shoulder, and occasionally he would plant a small kiss on her freckled cheeks. Hermione thought it to be sweet, but Ron thought differently. After several grunts, sighs, and coughs, Ron could take no more.

"I know you two are like, together, or a thing, or whatever now but could you please do that" He gestured wildly at the position in which Harry and Ginny were seated "elsewhere, somewhere I don't have to see!" 

"No! Why shouldn't we be able to express our love for each other wherever and whenever we want? It's a free country Ron!" Ginny protested. 

"Because it's weird! Your my little sister! I shouldn't have to sit around and watch you snog anyone, let alone my best bloody friend!"

"Oh stop being so hypocritical Ron! Harry's had to sit around for years watching you and Hermione flit about! How is this any different?!" Ron's ears immediately reddened. They were face to face now. The look on Ginny's face was murderous. Harry and Hermione had also risen to their feet in case and actual brawl were to kick off. 

"That's different! It's not like me and Hermione actually did anything..." His embarrassment had highly amused Ginny as she had doubled over with laughter. When she had regained her composure she took Harry by the hand and led him back to the Burrow. Ron and Hermione were left alone. Whilst Hermione wracked her brain for something to say, Ron took to shoving his hands in his jean pockets and thoroughly examining his shoes.

"D-Do you have the time Ron?" Hermione asked, she was worried they would be late getting back to the Burrow, and she didn't want to give Molly anything else to stress over.

"Yeah, it's- bloody hell Hermione! It's half one! The ceremony starts at two!" Ron looked himself up and down "I'm not even ready yet! Shit, Mum's gonna go mental!"

"It's fine Ron, calm down. Lets go back to the house, and we'll get you ready. Okay?" He nodded and began walking swiftly back to the Burrow; Hermione almost had to jog to keep up with him. 

                                                     ...

"How do I look?" Hermione turned at the sound of his voice. He fidgeted as she took in his appearance. He looked extremely handsome. The black suit fitted him perfectly, and for once he had bothered to tuck in his shirt ends and button his blazer. "Mione?" He woke her from her daze.

"Perfect Ron. Really, really...lovely." Ron beamed at her, clearly comforted by her praise.

"Erm, there's something missing though." He took a purple polka dotted tie from his pocket almost guiltily. Hermione took the long material gently from his hands and tiptoed to lay the long strip of material over his strong broad shoulders. She felt him quiver slightly at her touch. She tucked the tie beneath his crisp white shirt collar and secured it into a knot.

"Ha, we match!" Hermione noticed suddenly, gesturing towards her dress and Ron's tie. 

"Muuuum!" Ron moaned. "Sorry, that's... embarrassing." He laughed nervously.

"It's probably just a coincidence. And if not, it's sweet! I wonder if Harry and George have purple ones too." She secretly hoped they didn't. 

"I give you ten minutes before you get into some sort of mess." She teased playfully; though her prediction was entirely accurate.

"I wouldn't give him even that!" Ginny retorted in passing. "Ron! Mum wants you, she needs to check you look half decent. I told her you never look half decent so it shouldn't be any different today!" 

"Shut up, Gin." Ron childishly stuck his tongue, clearly not being able to conjure a witty comeback. "I best go." He smiled lightly at Hermione and followed Ginny down the stairs.

                                                  ...

                                            As Hermione skipped down the stairs over a mountain of shoes, she almost collided with George. She apologised and tried to sidestep him but he purposely blocked her path.

"What's up George?" She asked.

"Mum's looking for you. She's moaning about Ron's hair or something."

"Oh, alright. Hey, George; are you o-"

"Don't! Don't even go there Hermione! I'll get enough of that today from all of the old fogies downstairs" She smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, I didn't even think." George flattened himself against the stair wall to let her pass. "You scrub up good, by the way George."

"You too, Granger." He gave her a wink and continued to ascend the stairs.

 When Hermione was on the ground floor of the Burrow she understood why George had retreated to his room. There were people everywhere. She had never seen quite so many witches and wizards congregated in one space before. The majority of them had unruly red hair and freckle spotted faces. Weasleys. Through all of the bodies in the room she could still identify Mrs.Weasley's small plump figure. She attempted to carefully squeeze between the mass of people but there was just too many. In the end she has to resort to rather rudely push her way through the sea of bodies to get to Molly.

 When she was just a couple of feet away the elder woman spotted her.

"Hermione! Thank goodness you're here! Now my love, I need you to go and sort out Ron. He's in a right state; I would do it myself, but as you can see, I've already got a handful." She really had. She was carrying a tiny baby with a cluster of golden ringlets in one arm, handing out snacks, greeting more guests into the small space, and brewing tea every five minutes. The woman really was a miracle worker; then again, you'd have to be to raise Fred and George.

 Hermione barged her way through the swarm of people, muttering 'sorry's' as she went, to the garden where she found Ron hopelessly attacking his ginger mane of hair with a small comb.

"I think you're going to need a bigger brush." Ron cast a glance upwards at his hair.

"I've never been able to do it. Mum's always had to." He stated with a shrug.

"What about whilst you were at school? It seemed alright then."

"Harry." Ron answered simply.

"Ronald Weasley, have you no shame?" She laughed lightly. His hopelessness really was endearing. "Come here silly." Ron's hair really was horrendous. Hermione first had to untangle several large knots with her fingers. It was a difficult task and she could understand why Ron found it almost impossible himself. She had to admit she didn't mind though. Hermione enjoyed doing little things for Ron; not that she'd ever let him know that, he'd never let it down. As she began brushing the final strands of unruly red hair away from Ron's forehead she caught a glimpse of his piercing blue eyes watching her every move. She felt her cheeks warm.

"Did I tell you you look nice yet?" He asked, his eyes now sweeping the ground.

"Nice?" She knew he meant it as a compliment, but nice? 

"I-I mean lovely! Um, pretty?" Ron fumbled for words.

"Is that a question or a compliment Ron?" She was teasing him now.

"RON" Mrs. Weasley bellowed from inside the house. "RON! COME ON, IT'S ABOUT TO START!"

Hermione watched Ron as he prepared himself. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he released the breath. He began walking swiftly past Hermione towards the Burrow. He surprised her seconds later when he appeared at her side, leaned in close, and whispered in her ear "You look beautiful, Hermione." Before she had any time to react he had dashed back to the house.

At two o'clock people began to take their seats inside the large levitating tent in which the ceremony would be held. Harry and Hermione stood amongst a long line of the Weasley's distant relatives and a few of Fred's Hogwarts friends. Mrs.Weasley, Mr.Weasley, and all of their remaining children stood side by side at the entrance of the marquee, shaking hands and welcoming their guests. When Hermione was at the front of the queue she hugged Molly and Ginny, and took the hands of the others. Ron was stood at the very end. When they shook hands he held on tightly and didn't let go. She moved out of the procession to stand next to Ron, as not to hold up the line. He lent down to whisper in her ear. His warm breath tickled her, sending light pleasurable shivers down her spine. 

"You said you'd stay with me, remember?" She nodded, knowing that he needed her now more than ever. She no longer felt awkward and out of place in the line of Weasley's; she was where she needed to be. 

When the last wizard in the line had given his condolences to the family of red heads Ron tugged Hermione by the hand inside. He guided her to their seats in the second row, next to Ginny and Harry, who were clutching to each other for support. A hush fell over the crowd as Charlie, Bill, George, and Percy walked slowly down the middle of the isle, carrying Fred's coffin. The sight of the casket made Hermione gasp. Until she had seen the gleaming wooden box everything had seemed dream like, and surreal. It was silly but Hermione almost expected Fred to jump out at them at any second, and laugh at his ridiculously unfunny practical joke. Now it came crashing down on her. This was it. This was real. Fred was not going to wake up. Never again would they see his cheeky grin, hear his laughter. Never again would he and George be scolded for their mischief. George. Hermione watched as he carried his brother on his shoulder. His face was expressionless. The worst part is that we haven't just lost Fred. A part of George has dies along with him. She thought.

Hermione suspected Ron might be thinking the same thing as the pressure on her hand increased. He was holding on so tightly her fingertips began to whiten from lack of circulation. But she didn't move, or ask him to let go. The pain was real in all of the sadness, it kept her grounded. 

The service was a blur to Hermione. She was lost in her thoughts. All she was really aware of was the increasing dampness of her dress. Ron's head was bowed as he sobbed silently, his tears of remorse falling into her lap. Hermione hadn't shed a single tear through the duration of the ceremony. She had cried so much over the past few weeks that she was drained of the droplets of sorrow. When almost everyone had left the tent she watched as George stood by his brothers side and said his final goodbyes alone. His body was wracked with grief. His skin a greyish pallor. Eyes sunken and empty. As Hermione was ushered through the door tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, making her vision of an empty shell of a person that was George clouded. 

[hungrygaming]

My Romione Fanfic | Chapter 2

Hermione awoke to a loud bang. She sat upright on the springy mattress so fast her head spun. The source of the noise was Ginny. She was clambering around beneath her small bed.

"Ginny? What on Earth are you doing?" Hermione asked groggily. Never before had Ginny Weasley been awake earlier in the morning than herself.

"Ow" Ginny muttered to herself whilst rubbing head, making her flaming red her stand on end even more so. "Oh, morning Hermione. Sorry if I woke you. I was just looking for my shoes... when I banged my head" Hermione gave her a sympathetic look.

"What shoes? I'll help you look." Hermione was constantly offering to do things for Ginny now, as she had kindly let Hermione sleep in her bedroom whilst she was staying at the Burrow. The room was small and cramped. The two single beds were pushed against the lilac walls. Ginny's clothes were strewed about over everything in sight, but Hermione liked it. Just knowing that she was safe, and with her friends, with Ron, was all that she needed. 

"You know the suede brown heels? Little pink and yellow flowers on 'em? Fleur's hand-me-downs." Ginny wore a look of distaste as she described the shoes.

"Heels? Why do y-oh." Saturday. Today was Saturday. Today all of the Weasley's would gather at the Burrow to mourn Fred, and pay their respects.

Hermione leaped off of the bed and swiftly left the room, forgetting all about her offer to assist Ginny in her shoe hunt. 

                                                  ...

The knock at the door startled Hermione, making her drop the metal container she had been clutching to her chest.

"George! Hurry up! You've been in there bloody ages!" The speaker was unmistakably Ron. Hermione's heart began to beat faster just at the thought of him. "For God's sake Fred, get your arse out of there! You can't smell that bad!"

Hermione unlocked the door and opened it slightly. At the sight of her Ron's ears began to redden. She followed his gaze down to her over sized striped pajamas and blushed. She looked a mess. After she had jumped out of bed and hastily left Ginny's room she had barricaded herself in the bathroom. The only bathroom. So far Fleur, Mr. Weasley, Harry, George, and now Ron had waited to use the lavatory, but given up and resorted to other options.

"Oh, Hermione. Sorry, I-I thought you were Fred, but you're not. Obviously" Ron forced a nervous laugh. 

"No, no. I'm sorry, I've been in there for ages."

"Really?" He took in her bedraggled appearance once more. His face wore a look of confusion. "I mean, that's fine, really. Can I just grab a few things?" Hermione opened the door wider and stood aside to let him into the bathroom. She sat on the cold bath edge and watched him as he scoured the shelves for his toiletries. Every now and again he would reach up to grab something, his shirt rising with him, revealing his toned abdomen. Hermione couldn't help but admire him.

"You haven't seen a grey bottle with blue writing on have you 'Mione?" Ron asked, whilst scanning the room. Hermione picked up the metal can she had been holding and passed it to Ron. She didn't even look for it as before Ron began to hammer the bathroom door she had been ashamedly smelling the contents of the bottle. She knew that it was Ron's aftershave as all of the Weasley's possessions were all clearly labelled with their names. She realized that it was a silly thing to do, but she couldn't resist. Hermione had been yearning for Ron since he had awoken from his dazed state. She often found herself watching him from afar, longing for his company, but now was not the time to put herself and her emotions first. Maybe in the future, she hoped. Ron thanked her and left the bathroom. She listened to his footsteps fade.

"Come on now, get yourself together Hermione. It's going to be a big, big day." She exhaled deeply and turned on the rusting taps. It was silly but Hermione wanted to look nice today, well at least better than she normally did, when meeting Ron's family. Her plans were to have a hot shower and wash her hair - hopefully her wild bushy mane would behave itself just for now.

She stripped out of her baggy pajamas and stepped delicately into the tub. She winced slightly at the cool temperature of the water raining down on her - at the Weasley household hot water was scarce with there being so many occupants. 

                                                   ...

"Ron?" Ron jumped up off of the stairs, he began to feel slightly lightheaded. "What are you doing?" Harry raised his eye brows questioningly at him. Ron was going to come back with a witty remark but he had to admit that he was in rather strange position; that being crouched outside the bathroom door with his ear pressed lightly to the cool wood.

"Who's in there? It isn't still Hermione is it? She was in there early this morning!"

"Um, yeah, I think so." Ron tried to look uninterested at the mention of Hermione's name, tried.

Realizing that he hadn't actually answered his earlier question Harry asked "So, are you waiting for the bathroom? Or..."

"Er, yeah, yeah. I'm waiting. I think she's in the shower."

"Oh, right. Probably best to come back in a while then." Harry suggested. Ron nodded in agreement and began to walk slowly backwards down the hallway. When Harry retreated down the stairs to the ground floor he tip toed back to his place by the door. He knew it was weird, and creepy but he couldn't leave. He had been sat listening to Hermione singing in the shower for about five minutes now. Hermione had many talents - too many for Ron to list - but singing was not one of them. The song, unknown to Ron - most likely a Muggle one he thought - was completely out of tune, and Hermione's voice broke when she tried to sing in high pitch. Though that hadn't driven him away. Ron missed Hermione. He just wanted to be near her. To admire her thirst for knowledge. To gaze upon her wild hair, and pretty delicate features. And most of all to push her buttons and wind her up, Ron loved to argue with Hermione. Ron found that it was in the heat of the moment that Hermione was most beautiful. The way colour rushed to her cheeks when she was angry, and her small fists clenched at her sides made Ron giddy. It was when Hermione was most alive. Ron hadn't had any moments like that with Hermione since she had comforted him in his attic room. He thought things would get better again after that, but Hermione seemed to be ignoring him. She purposely turned away when he looked her way and made excuses to leave a room he had entered. It was killing him. 

Ron was so caught up in his thoughts of Hermione that he hadn't noticed the beauty herself exit the bathroom in nothing but a small towel. She was standing directly in front of him, her eye brows knitted in confusion. 

"Ron, what are you doing down there?" She asked. 

"I e-er dropped something." Ron spluttered. Hermione's gaze swept the floor.

"B-but I, um, found it." 

"So why are you still on the floor?" She questioned. "You'll be filthy!" 

"Alright, mum." Hermione laughed lightly, extending a hand to help Ron up. Crisis averted Ron finally took Hermione's appearance in, his blue eyes widening. Her small slim figure was covered with only a small white towel which spanned between her lower shoulders and mid thigh. Her hair had curled slightly, waves cascading around her shoulders. Hermione had obviously noticed Ron's stares as she pulled the white cloth closer to her body. 

"I better go and get dressed." She said with a tight embarrassed smile as she sidled past Ron.

Hermione began to pad barefoot towards her room but didn't get very far.

"Hermione?" Ron said hesitantly. He inhaled deeply as if preparing himself. Hermione turned. "I was wondering, well I mean I hoped, it-it would be really nice if-if." Ron knew he was babbling and shook himself. "Hermione, will you stay with me today. Please. It's gonna be hard and-and everyone's going to be there and. Well I just don't want to loose myself, again. You always keep me grounded so I thought maybe-" 

"Yes. Absolutely, of course Ron. You needn't ask. Wait here, I'll be ten minutes, and we'll get you ready." She cast a glance upwards at his unruly red hair and smiled broadly "And we'll find you a brush." She walked swiftly back to her room, leaving Ron standing alone in the narrow hall, grinning freely.