Chasing the Brunette Fox

Chasing the Brunette Fox

Chapter One: Let the Hunt Begin

Hermione rolled out of bed at precisely seven a.m., trudging slowly out of the bedroom she was sharing with Ginny Weasley towards the Burrow's bathroom. Her walk was slow and jerky, the result of a great lack of sleep the night before and a headache that was coming on from thinking too much. Yes, Hermione Granger had, for once in her life, thought too much. Surprise surprise.

The door leading to Harry and Ron's shared room opened as she made her way slowly down the hall. She heard a shocked "Yipe!" and the door slammed shut again. Rolling her eyes, Hermione opened the door again to find Ginny standing next to the dresser, remotely embarrassed. "I've known for some time you weren't in our room, Ginny. Get out of the boys' bedroom and get back to your bedroom before your parents wake up," Hermione said quite bluntly, gesturing back down the hallway. Ginny grinned shyly and hurried back down the hallway, abruptly slamming her bedroom door behind her. Hermione glanced further into the bedroom, looking at Ron. He was sleeping peacefully, apparently unaware that his sister had spent the night in Harry's bed. Hermione couldn't resist grinning at Ron's cute little snores and open mouth. She shook her head, clearing the image and wondering what the heck was wrong with her. Ron's my best friend! He's not cute... yeah that's it. He isn't. Honest.

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At the breakfast table, Ginny kept giving hesitant glances in Harry's direction. The-Boy-Who-Lived was blatantly ignoring her. Hermione chuckled into her glass of orange juice, wondering when Ron would notice this little by-play. Ron was insanely over-protective of his little sister, and God only knew what would happen when he found that Harry and Ginny had made a go of it. When Mr. Weasley went out for work and Mrs. Weasley had left to check on something outside, Harry looked Ginny right in the eye and said coldly, "Ginny, I don't know what ideas you got last night but I'm assuring you they weren't the right ones." Hermione raised one eyebrow. It seemed as though both of them had "got ideas" the previous night.

"How could they not be, Harry? You two made enough noise for me to know she wasn't exactly forcing you into it," Ron butted in, which was apparently not appreciated, as both Harry and Ginny turned frowning faces on him.

"Butt out!" Harry and Ginny shouted in unison. Then they turned on each other again. Hermione cast a glance at Ron and, on silent agreement, they both left for the living room. "So you knew?" Hermione asked when they were at a safe distance from the dining room.

"Well, Harry and I had a chat about it yesterday in the midst of de-gnoming the garden. He said he'd like to invite her to 'sleep over' in our room and that he promised to be good... Funny, I knew Harry had never been a boy scout but didn't contest that little 'boy scout's honor' thing. Oh well. I guess it's better Ginny get her heart broken now with someone she's barely involved with than later with someone she's in neck-deep with. Right?" Ron looked at Hermione as though expecting approval, or at the least an opinion.

"Well, Ron, I'm surprised at your hypocrisy. Any other guy that gets within ten meters of Ginny receives a thorough telling-off, and then you let Harry get close enough to have her in bed and not let her leave 'til seven a.m. Sure, Harry's a good guy, but no guy is too good," she replied, scowling deeply. Ron's eyes had widened and he looked remotely hurt. "No, Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just... ever since Viktor and me, I haven't really trusted any guy."

Ron shrugged, "It's okay, Hermione. It just caught me off-guard, that's all." And I'm sorry he hurt you. That jerk. He looked at Hermione as she watched the Weasley's clock with interest. She truly had grown from that first-year bookworm. In her sixth year Hermione was actually quite beautiful, with soulful chocolate eyes and her frizzy brunette hair. But her beauty was only an additional plus, as far as Ron was concerned. She was funny, extremely intelligent, adorable...

"Ron? Have you heard a word I've said?" Harry was standing in front of Ron, his hands on his hips. He rather resembled Mrs. Weasley when she was ignored.

"Oh, sorry... What were you saying?" regaining his senses, Ron looked up at Harry inquiringly.

"Oh cripes. Never mind. I was just apologizing thoroughly to you for anything I've done to your sister. You know we didn't really do anything, don't you?"

"Sure, Harry, sure. Of course. Want a game of chess?" Ron asked, hoping to get out of this room. Hermione was looking at him shrewdly, and he was afraid she'd realize why he hadn't heard a word Harry said. Harry smiled and nodded, rushing up the stairs to their bedroom. Ron followed, half-heartedly waving at Hermione. I'm such an oaf... I don't know why I'd even hope for her to like me.

"What was all that about, Ron? You looked like you were off in dreamland."

"Oh, nothing really. Just a little crush on Hermione that I'm nursing," Ron said. What?!? Why did I tell Harry? God knows he'll only tell everything that stops for long enough for him to get it out!

"Oh. Really?" Harry asked, looking a little surprised. Ron nodded and Harry chuckled. "I got over mine in first year. She's more beautiful now, of course, but she's all yours, Ron." Ron smiled and pulled the wizard chess board from under his bed.

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"So what are you going to do about Hermione?" Harry asked that night, both of them laying in their own beds on their backs, staring at Ron's ceiling.

"Honestly? I haven't a clue. It's so rough, to look at her day after day and not know how I'm going to tell her anything. I can't really waltz up to her and say, 'Hi Hermione. I love you. Go out with me.'" Ron rolled over onto his side, looking at Harry.

"Why not? I mean, there isn't much more to it than that," Harry said, rolling onto his side to look at Ron.

"Of course there is!" Ron shouted, a little surprised that it might actually be that easy. "I mean, how could I possibly do that? You saw me before the Yule Ball in fourth year. There was no way I was ever going to ask her. I just have no guts."
"That, Ron, happens to be your problem and your problem alone. If you can't ask Hermione out, then obviously you must not want to be with her too badly," with that, Harry rolled over onto his other side, ending the conversation. Ron did the same, staring at his ivory walls and wondering how on Earth he could ever ask Hermione out.

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"So what happened with you and Harry?" Hermione asked, curled up at the foot of her bed, staring out the window at the starry sky. Ginny was laying on her back at the head of her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"I don't know... We kissed and hugged and talked all night. Then this morning... well, you saw what happened at breakfast. I don't understand it at all. What could have made him change that much between last night and this morning?" Ginny rolled over and unceremoniously punched her fluffy pillow. She sat up and drew her knees up to her chin, making her look even younger than her fifteen years.

"I don't know, but it sounds like Harry's fine with being that way when you two are alone but doesn't want to be that way with other people around. Which makes Harry a jerk. Don't worry about him, I'm sure he'll come around. Maybe he's having a hard time deciding something," Hermione said, simultaneously trying to make Ginny feel better and think of an excuse for Harry's behavior.

"So you know Ron likes you, right?" Ginny asked Hermione. Hermione's eyes grew wide and she put a hand over her mouth. "Obviously not, sorry, forget I said that."

"No, actually, I didn't know that. He does?"

"Yeah. I think he has for a long time now. I also think he's too shy to say anything to you about it. What do you think of him?" Ginny slid over to Hermione's bed. "Come on, Hermione, you can tell me. Honest, I won't breathe a word."

"Okay, okay. I think Ron is really sweet and cute and I fancy him enough, I guess, but I kind of like someone else right now," Hermione grimaced, clearly confused. Ginny's eyes lit up and she smiled. "And no, I won't tell you who." Ginny's face promptly fell again. She pushed herself off of Hermione's bed and back over to her own and rolled over to face the opposite wall. Feeling a little put out, Hermione stretched out on the bed and fell into a light sleep.

You make me sick

I want you and I'm hatin it

~Pink

Chapter Two: Heartache

"Well maybe you shouldn't've so willingly climbed into my bed!"

"Well maybe you shouldn't lead girls on!"

"Well maybe you should learn to not trust everything everyone says!"

"Well if everyone was honest I wouldn't have to!"

Ron slammed his bedroom door shut, unwilling to listen to Harry and Ginny arguing so early in the morning. He grinned to himself as he saw that Hermione's bedroom door was open and he walked down the narrow hallway. "Good morning, Hermione. So at what point did you kick Ginny and Harry from your room and into mine?"

"Around the third time she threw a brush at him. I was getting sick of hearing Ginny blame Harry and vice-versa. Why don't they just admit that they both screwed up and get over it?" Hermione turned from brushing her unruly hair in front of Ginny's mirror. Ron blushed a little; he had been blatantly staring.

"Well, I guess I ought to go then. Breakfast should be close to ready by now, and I suppose you want to get dressed," Ron said sheepishly, closing Hermione's door behind him. He then leaned against the hallway wall and hit himself in the forehead. Well I guess I ought to go then? What kind of crap was that? He shook his head and stormed downstairs, not even bothering to stop and try to propose a cease-fire between Harry and Ginny for breakfast. He somehow doubted they'd stop shouting for that long.

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"God, that was a long summer. I'm glad its finally over," Harry said tersely as Ron and he settled into a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Hermione was off somewhere, presumably chatting with Ginny before she joined them. "And I'll be so glad to get away from your sister for a while!"

"Oh cripes, Harry, give it a rest! It's just as much your fault as it is Ginny's! For crying out loud, it's mostly your fault. You're the one that acted as though she didn't exist!" Ron shouted, finally having lost his patience with Harry and Ginny's constant bickering and trash-talking. "Why don't you two just apologize and call a truce or something?!?"

"Sorry, Ron, I just... She just bothers me, that's all," Harry said, sidestepping Hermione as he stormed out of the compartment.

"What was all that about?" Hermione inquired, brushing her frizzy hair back from her face. She ripped the wrapper from a chocolate frog and shoved half of it in her mouth before it could hop away.

"Oh I'm just sick of Harry and Ginny being at each other's throats. Other than that, nothing," Ron spat a little harshly. "Sorry, Hermione. I'm just really sick of that," Ron could've kicked himself. What am I doing yelling at Hermione? I want her to like me... this is really gonna do it for me.

"Yeah, I am too. I'm actually kind of glad to be going back to Hogwarts; maybe we'll get a little peace from them," she said, rifling through her bag for the book she planned to finish on the way to school. Grinning, she pulled it up from the bottom of the bag, looking like she had won a million dollars. She's so cute when she looks like that, Ron thought. Then, Oh cripes. Am I turning into a sap or what? He quickly pretended to exit the compartment to go to the bathroom before he got himself into trouble.

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"What a lovely first day back, huh guys?" Harry asked as he pulled a chair up to Hermione and Ron's wizard chess game. They both turned and looked at him as though he'd just proposed Voldemort to be the winner of Witch Weekly's "Most Likely to Save the World" award. "Sorry... geez, I was only joking," Harry apologized, half to himself. It had been a really really rough day. They had come back to double Potions in the morning, followed by lunch, followed by Charms and Transfiguration, all of which had given extra-long homework and two essays apiece. I can look forward to three a.m. bedtimes this year, it seems, Harry thought to himself. When he turned around again to look at Hermione and Ron, they were gone. Shaking his head, he headed up to the sixth year dormitory to get some sleep.

When he got there, however, Ron was waiting on the end of Harry's bed. "I asked her to come with me to the first Hogsmeade trip and hang out some."

"Asked who, Ron?" Harry asked. This, apparently, had been quite the wrong question. Ron's lips pursed and his eyebrows worked towards knitting themselves together. "Oh... Hermione?" Harry hazarded, praying that he was right.

"No... I asked Professor McGonagall. Of course it was Hermione! Some friend you are," Ron began to get up and head to the Gryffindor common room. Harry stopped him and sat him down again, his eyes boring holes into Ron's until he relented. "Okay, fine, I'll tell you what happened. She said no, that she had already been asked by someone else. Who on Earth asked Hermione?"

"I don't know if you've noticed or not, Ron, but Hermione has become quite pretty and you're probably not the only student at Hogwarts that would enjoy taking her out. I told you to ask her over the summer, I told you to ask her before we got back to Hogwarts, but did you listen? No. Your loss. I guess it'll just be the two of us at Hogsmeade this trip," Harry looked very stern. Honestly, if Ron can begin to blame anyone but himself for this then he's way out of line, he thought to himself. "Now, I need some sleep after this infernal day that I've had. You can go back to the common room or you can go to sleep too but I refuse to be bothered by this anymore." Ron looked quite a bit shocked, surprised that Harry was being so stern with him. Slightly miffed, he left to the common room, hoping he wouldn't run into Hermione.

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The next day the date of the first Hogsmeade trip was announced. It was only two weeks away. Ron carefully glanced toward Hermione, who was giggling with Ginny at some private joke. Shrugging, he looked at Harry, whom he hoped was in better temperment than the previous night. Harry grinned at him and said maybe they should visit the joke shop and see if any of Fred and George's work was present. Ron forced a grin, wishing he could be looking forward to a Hogsmeade trip with Hermione.

"Oh, snap out of it Ron. Hermione's bound to come around soon. And if she doesn't there are lots more beautiful girls here at Hogwarts, so long as you stay away from Slytherin," Harry smiled at Ron and they both began to laugh, easing the tension from their argument. "Listen, I'm sorry about last night. I was just really fed up with hearing you talk about Hermione all the time and never do anything about it, when if anybody deserves her, its you. And having double Potions with Snape was not exactly a walk in the park," Harry said when the laughter had subsided. They both headed to breakfast, ready to get some food in their system before another day of grueling classes.

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Ron was seated in a large, cushy armchair, scratching away with his quill on the Potions essay. He barely looked up when Hermione entered, crying. Then he heard her snobs and sniffles and his head jerked up. She was seated on the couch across from him, her knees tucked up under her chin, her bushy hair falling in front of her face. Her entire body was shaking with her tears. Ron quickly picked himself up out of the armchair and seated himself next to her on the couch, making shushing noises and pulling her close to his chest. "Hermione.... shhhh... what on Earth is the matter?"

"Draco..." Ron's heart lurched into his throat, and dive bombed into his chest again. Draco? "He... he... and I have been.... together.... all summer. I thought... I thought he had changed... that he.... was better. Then today he... he..." she started crying uncontrollably again, and Ron let her cry. Her face was buried in his neck and he could feel the entire upper right side of his robes getting damp. He only pulled her closer and hushed her again. Finally, she pulled back and looked him straight in the eye. The determined glint that was normally present had returned to her eyes. "He broke it off with me. He told me that I was a horrible know-it-all and the only reason he'd stayed with me so long was that he felt terrible on account that I was a... a... mudblood," she spat, the previous sadness replaced with anger.

Ron's head was spinning. Oddly enough, the first thought was not why she had been with Draco, but all the wonderfully nasty things he could do to Draco to make him hurt. Seeing Hermione cry had really jerked at something in Ron. She looked so sad, so helpless, and he wanted to pull her close and kiss all her tears away and hold her there, keeping her safe. He extended a hand to Hermione's cheek. A solitary tear was rolling down it, and he wiped it away. "Shh, love. I know Draco can be particularly nasty, and I'm sorry that all this happened. Did he do this sort of thing the entire time you two were... together?" Hermione just shook her head and Ron pushed her bushy hair back from her face. They were both staring at each other, each entranced in each other's presence. Hermione made the first move, leaning toward Ron and slowing gradually until her lips were only millimeters from his. Their eyes locked, and Ron's hand pulled her face forward. Their lips touched, each gentle at first, then rougher, with greater need. Hermione's mouth opened, inviting him in, an invitation he quickly accepted. They were both so entranced by the other's affections that neither noticed that Harry had walked into the room, quickly turning and running out, quite embarrassed to have interrupted.

Finally Ron jerked back. Hermione tried to follow, but he held her still. "Hermione, we shouldn't be doing this. You just got hurt by Draco and you're weak, you're vulnerable. You just need affection, and I don't know for sure that you need it from me necessarily," he rose and practically ran from the room, not glancing back at all. Hermione stared after him, wondering what had just happened. One minute they were kissing, and it had been heaven, and then Ron weirded out. She sighed and started back to her dormitory, all thoughts of Draco pushed from her mind.

She arrived at her room, and quickly got undressed in the dark, pulled on day-old pajamas, and slid between her quilt and sheet. She lay there in the dark for quite some time, simply revelling in the memory of Ron's kiss. She had known for some time that Ron could maybe be more than a friend for her, but she'd always pushed that thought from her mind. Perhaps she shouldn't have. Perhaps she should've tried to be more than a friend.

Then her thoughts whorled to Draco. She had been in love with him. He had been positively charming and handsome and romantic; he had been everything the fairy tale boyfriend should be. But Ron was sweet and adorable and ... why was she thinking about Ron? She was trying to sort out the Draco mess. Draco had been very kind to her, and had asked her to go to Hogsmeade with him. But today, he met up with her after her Arithmancy class, and told her he was through with her. It had hurt so much, to see those steely silver eyes stare so coldly into her own and tell her all her faults, all her wrongs. She hadn't cried until she reached the Gryffindor common room, and then there had been Ron...

Finally exhausted from thinking, Hermione rolled over and forced herself into an oblivion of dreamless sleep.

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"Umm... I don't know exactly how to say this, Ron. But you and Hermione looked pretty close downstairs," Harry said quietly when his best friend stormed into his dormitory. Ron rounded on Harry, ready to bless him out, but then rethought the situation. He sat down on the edge of his bed, gesturing for Harry to join him.

He drew in a deep breath, then commenced to telling his story. When he had finished, Harry was staring at him like he was an idiot. "You had a beautiful girl snogging you like she was ready to take you to her room and you told her to go to bed?!?"

"Well, what would Saint Potter have done? Taken her to his bed? Like you did my sister?!?" Ron shouted back. He was intensely angry that Harry had questioned his moral decision to let Hermione get her thoughts in order. It was the least that respect requested. Harry was, if possible, even more enraged. As far as he was concerned, that comment about Ginny was way below the belt.

"And what would you know of the subject? You're too shy to even ask Hermione to Hogsmeade. Goodness knows kissing is probably as far as you'll ever get."

"Well if I have to be as heartless about it as you seem to be, maybe that's all I want!" Ron yelled, thoroughly mad. Harry huffed and turned to his bed. He drew the drapes up around it, and Ron could hear him shouting into his pillow. Oh well. Serves him quite right, Ron thought. He turned the light off and changed to his pajamas, and crawled into his bed.

He had hoped for a blissful night's sleep with lots of good dreams, but if anything was blissful, it was his thoughts of Hermione. He remembered how scared and alone she had looked as she cried, and how happy she appeared when she looked into his eyes. How her chocolate eyes had lit up as she stared into his from mere centimeters away. How her brown hair had cascaded down around her face and over his hands, onto his cheekbones, onto his shoulders. How soft her lips and face had been, how gently those lips had caressed his, how soft and delicious her tongue was. How she had the tiniest of fudge-colored freckles right under her eyes and right on the bridge of her nose. How sweet her breath had been. How salty her tears had tasted. How her petite nose had fit perfectly into his cheek. How deliciously enticing she had smelled. He shook his head to clear his mind before his thoughts got too intimate.

And then there was the matter of Harry. He really liked Harry, and really thought him noble and brave and all that jazz, but his words tonight had been downright sleazy. How could Harry have honestly expected Ron to keep kissing Hermione when she had no more than five minutes earlier broken up with Draco? When he had said all those cruel things to her? Understandably, Hermione had been seeking affection and acceptance. Ron had been the one to give it up willingly. The following morning she would probably wake to find him and bless him out for the kiss.

With that not-too-comforting thought, Ron drifted off to sleep, praying for dreams of his sweet Hermione.

Chapter Three: Dreams of You

Ron had just told her exactly what he thought of her. He had told her she was a perfectionist and that nothing other than she would ever be perfect in her eyes. He had told her that Draco had been right to call her a know-it-all. He had told her that she should have accepted his love when he offered it, and not refused him the pleasure of being with her. She looked at him, her brown eyes filling with hurt and brimming with tears as his stared back at her. She collapsed on the spot, crying in her white wedding dress, leaving it spotted with tan dirt from the earthen floor and spider webs that had caught on the way down. The scene morphed to one of Hogwarts, with Hermione sitting on her knees in the middle of a corridor, her skirt draped about her legs and her hair disheveled and bushy, her cheeks tear-stained. Draco was standing to her left, pointing and laughing. Harry was to her right, not laughing but not helping, either. Ron was standing in front of her, lip-locked with a gorgeous, bodacious blonde, ruby lipstick smeared on his lips and cheeks. He turned and looked her straight in the eye, "She accepted me, my love. You wanted Draco. I wasn't good enough. Well, guess what? Now it's you that's not good enough."

Hermione jerked upward in bed, her head aching from the sudden motion. She was covered in sweat and trembling from head to toe. Standing up, she pulled her robe on over her pajamas and headed to the bathroom, hoping to rinse her face and get back to sleep.

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His hands molding her pristine flesh, her hands about his neck, pulling him deeper, closer, further into the kiss. Her lips caressing his and then moving down to his jawbone and the underside of his chin. He leaned his head back, allowing a throaty moan to escape from his lips. Her hands roaming through his coppery red hair, his hands running the length of her back and up through her soft hair. He pulled her face back to his, quickly pressing his lips against hers and kissing the entirety of her mouth. She folded so delicately into his arms, her arms rested against his chest and his strong arms enveloping her body. He slowly lowered her back onto the cotton-bedecked bed and began to kiss down her neck, suckling and nibbling at her windpipe and muscles. He kissed her collarbone, and proceeded to unbutton her pajama shirt, nibbling at the exposed flesh and buttons as he went. As he kissed down from her collarbone and to one exposed breast, she let out a moan of pleasure. He engulfed one rose-tipped mound into his mouth and she called out his name. "Oohh Draco..."

Ron came flying out of bed like a bat out of hell. He raced around the room a few minutes, quickly putting on his robes and storming out of the dormitory. He felt something pressing against the southerly fabric of his robes and cursed at his hormones. He began up to the girls' dormitories and then remembered that boys weren't allowed in. Swearing some more, he threw himself down on the common room couch, trying to regain some measure of self control. It had only been a dream. Hermione was not in bed with Draco. And anyway, it had been he, Ron, not Draco doing all those things. Pulling his seat closer to the fire, Ron swore some more, wishing that he could get into Hermione's bedroom to talk to her about all this. Damn it all, why did he have to be so affectable? Why could one kiss from Hermione make him dream about making love to her? Why did she so thoroughly drive him crazy?

Finally Ron decided to call a truce with both his hormones and body, which were calling for sex and sleep, respectively. He allowed himself a nap. Ron had barely began to fall to sleep when he heard a tiny creak on the steps up to the girls' dormitories. A minute yawn escaped the mouth of the midnight prowler and Ron feigned sleep. He felt someone sit down next to him and begin to stroke his copper red hair back from his face. He heard Hermione's soft, sweet voice.

"Ron, I don't know what to do about you. You're everything a girl should love, and I do love you, but I don't know what us being together would do to our friendship," and with that she was gone. Ron opened his eyes, extremely shocked. She loved him? She loved him? She loved him? She loved him?