Curing A Craving

Fiery embers warmed the charming face of Hermione Granger. It was late, very late, and all of her peers and the Order members had been fast asleep for several hours by now. But not her. Sleep had eluded her, so she figured it was better to spend it in front of a warm fireplace of 12 Grimmauld Place rather than shivering in the tiny room she shared with Ginny.

It's just as well. At least she could do some serious thinking, which she could use. She could start on Harry, which would inevitable lead into Voldemort, which lead into death of her loved ones, which lead to her most loved one...

She was leaning forward on the countertop, her eyes lost in the fire. Her dressing gown gently tickled the backs of her legs. Hermione had been deliberating whether to try to fall asleep again, when something poked her side playfully. Surprised, she spun around. Ron was leaning on the countertop as well, to her right, smiling mischievously, staring into the fire.

"Can't sleep, huh?" he asked drearily.

"Nope, not at all," she replied dully.

"Eh, me neither."

There was a long pause, in which the pair simply stared into the fire.

"I could really go for a nice, long, deep sleep, you know?" Ron said disappointedly. "But it never seems to come," he added.

Hermione nodded in solemn agreement. "Or a stress-less day. I haven't had a day where I haven't worried about Harry, Voldemort--quit flinching--or the Order members or you in such a long time," Hermione confessed.

Ron was slightly surprised by this statement, but didn't pursue it. He just nodded understandingly and replied, rather guiltily, "I could go for Harry being a little more cheerful, too."

Hermione sighed. "I know. I mean, he has a perfect right to be downcast and gloomy. Having the fate of the entire Wizarding race is on his shoulders, which isn't as easy thing. But I still wish he would laugh like he used to, or joke like he used to. Or even smile."

"Let's...try not to talk about something depressing, for once alright?"

Hermione grinned sadly. "Alright, I could go for...a hot bubble bath," she replied, her eyed lighting up brightly.

Ron raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "I, could go for long and smooth ride on my broom."

Ron and Hermione were thoroughly enjoying this. Their ideas got wilder and wilder, and their thoughts about Harry and Voldemort were swept away.

"A pick of whatever I wanted and how much I wanted at Honeyduke's, for free!" Ron exclaimed joyfully.

"Seeing Malfoy transformed into a ferret again!" Hermione said, grinning reminiscently.

"And chased through the dungeons by Mrs. Norris," Ron contributed, while Hermione roared with laughter. Neither realized how loud they were.

"A serene, peaceful day, just me and a good book," Hermione said, closing here eyes dreamily.

"A large, delicious roast," Ron replied, using his hands to show the size.

"House-elves to be freed!"

"Slytherins to be locked up!"

"Fred and George, back here every day again!"

"Harry and Ginny to be together!"

"What?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

"C'mon, Hermione! My best friend and my little sister? It's bloody brilliant!" Ron stated. Hermione giggled amusedly.

They simultaneously sighed.

"Hm. You know what would really hit the spot right now?" Hermione asked, almost seriously.

"Dunno," Ron replied, rather curious.

"The curing of a craving I have had for quite some time now," Hermione said mysteriously.

"Which is...?"

Hermione paused. "A hot fudge sundae," she responded, a tiny grin on her face as she once again absorbed the fire's warmth and comfort.

Ron was staring at her with a strange expression. A wicked and conspiratory smile flashed across his face, and an excellent idea appeared in his brain. He calculated for several seconds (creepy, I know) and savagely seized Hermione's hand, making her body tingle nervously. He raced at full speed towards the glowing fire, pulling her behind him.

"Ron! What are you--"

"Hold on," he warned, as he dipped his hand into the pot of Floo Powder. Half went into his pocket. He tossed a pinch into the embers, and ushered Hermione in.

"Diagon Alley," he commanded, and Hermione was zipping through a whirlwind of fires. She had no idea what Ron had just done, or why in the name of Merlin he did it, but she has going to holler at him when she crawled out of the fireplace.

Hermione caught herself just in time, and stood up nervously. She knew where she was, certainly. She was in Diagon Alley as Ron had ordered. Speak of the devil! A soft thud behind her told Hermione that Ron had just arrived. She turned around, ready to barrel him to the ground, as usual.

"What did you do? You can't just Floo to Diagon Alley in the middle of the night--"

"Funny, we just did," Ron joked, grinning satisfiedly at Hermione's anger. "Also, Hermione, there is one thing that I know more about that you, besides Quidditch, and that is Diagon Alley at midnight." He yanked his head in the direction of a dimly lit shop. Hermione read the title of the shop.

"Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor..." Hermione said aloud. She gasped, and grabbed Ron's arm in comprehension.

Ron sauntered slightly arrogantly towards the colorful shop, a favorite of the trio's during their trips to the giant Wizarding market place. Hermione's mouth gaped in awe, yet she still seemed a tad peeved.

They walked straight in the ice cream parlor. Florean Fortescue looked up from one of the booths in the back, and looked genuinely pleased about Ron arriving to his shop in the middle of the night.

"Good evening, Ron! You haven't been around in awhile, how have you been?" he greeted jovially, as if he and Ron were close friends.

"Eh, alright. You remember Hermione, right?"

"Certainly. Sit down! Now what can I get for you two?"

Hermione was utterly confused. Questions were ricocheting around her brain so fast she couldn't determine one from the other. Her perplexity must have shown in her face, because Ron sighed audibly and began to explain.

"Well, you see Hermione, every once in a while, in the summers mostly, I would have a craving in the middle of night, so I would Floo here!"

Hermione found her voice, finally, "And..."

"Eat ice cream, what do you think, Hermione?" Fortescue smirked charmingly.

Ron was watching Hermione, as if waiting for her approval. He gave her a questioning smile.

She couldn't help grinning with him. Her eyes had met Ron's charming blue eyes, and they locked. For almost a minute, neither would, or could, change their line of sight. It also seemed, like neither wanted to, in that single moment.

Half of her was outraged about Ron sneaking away in the middle of the night, and about shoving her through the fireplace to an unknown destination. But her remaining half was overjoyed and exuberant. A guilty pleasure, if you will.

Hermione sighed, shaking her head in mock-disappointment, "I give up."

Fortescue pounded the countertop happily. "Wonderful! So, what would you like, my dear?"

She gave Ron a flattering look, and blushed. "Hot fudge sundae, please."

"Make it two," Ron said, ears reddening.

"Coming right up!" Fortescue exclaimed cheerily.

Two succulent-looking and tantalizing hot fudge sundaes appeared magically, fit with a spoon in front of both Ron and Hermione. They exchanged excited glances and dug into their delicious ice cream, like they hadn't eaten in weeks.

Every few spoonfuls, Hermione would sneak a glimpse of Ron. Every few spoonfuls, Ron would sneak a glimpse of Hermione. Their eyes never met, and both were glowing inside.

* * *

Ron lent a strong hand to help Hermione up off the floor. The kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place still was empty, but neither really minded. They migrated back to the spots were they had stood before, leaning on the counter.

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger kept a lengthy silence between them. Immortal and satisfied smiles reigned for what seemed like an eternity. Both gazed into the fire, now just sizzling ashes, sparking randomly.

Finally, Ron spoke. "That sure hit the spot, don't you think?"

"Unbelievably," Hermione replied, grinning brightly at Ron. "Cured my craving, that's for sure. So, any more tricks up your sleeve that I should know about?"

He shrugged, sporting a lopsided grin. "Eh, you never know. Do you have any tricks that I should have an eye out for?"

Hermione hesitated before answering. "Actually, I also have been craving for something else."

"Yeah?" Ron asked in disbelief. "We don't have to go to Hogsmeade now, do we?"

Hermione chuckled and turned to face him. "No, not at all."

Ron, who seemed slightly confused by this statement, turned and gave her an inquisitive expression.

Hermione did some serious thinking in those crucial seconds. Then, she threw all her complex thoughts away. She slowly leaned in, and kissed him on the lips, innocent and sincere. Which he willingly returned, twofold.

When they, however reluctantly, pulled apart, Hermione whispered, "That certainly cured my craving."

"Yea? Well, I need just a bit more," Ron replied. He kissed her again, and again, and again.

Both Ron and Hermione had a cascade of unfortunate sleeping problems over the next few nights. And every morning, they awoke in each other's arms, in the kitchen of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and later, the Gryffindor common room.

Their cravings were never truly cured, but, neither minded. But, Ron and Hermione tried as much as they could.