This Dance We Do

Chapter 3: The Grangers

Ron had barely stepped out of the fireplace before Hermione had flung herself at him.

"I'm so happy you could come," she squealed as she hugged him. She stepped back and brushed soot off her front as she added, "I was afraid that you wouldn't want to be in a non magical environment for too long."

This thought had not occurred to Ron. How exactly did Muggles do things?

"Hadn't even crossed my mind," he told her honestly. He then turned to Harry. "So, you looking forward to spending an entire summer being lectured over the importance of N.E.W.T.s?"

"Actually," Harry said, trying to suppress a grin, "Hermione told me some of what she has planned for us, and it sounds fun. She didn't mention anything about studies at all."

Ron placed a hand to his heart and stumbled back of couple steps in mock surprise.

"What?! A completely homework free holiday?"

Hermione was trying to look put off, but Ron thought he saw the slightest flicker of a smile dance across her lips before she spoke.

"Well, Ron, since we don't know what N.E.W.T. level classes we're taking yet, we couldn't have any homework. If you would like some, though, I'm sure I could come up with something."

"No, I think I'll pass, thanks."

"Well, if you're sure. Harry, could you help Ron carry his trunk up to your room, and then I'll start showing you around."

Harry walked over to Ron and picked up an end of his trunk, much as Ginny had just minutes earlier. He picked up Pig's cage and smiled at Ron. Ron could almost read his mind. "This should be an interesting holiday." Harry's smile faded, though, when Ron reached out to grab his end of the trunk. Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the welts on his arm, then cast hastily to the floor.

"Harry, mate," Ron said in a whisper. "That's not your fault. It's my own damned fault for summoning the ruddy things in the first place."

Harry shook his head, and headed for the stairs.

It took some manoeuvring getting the trunk up the stairs, but at least they went in a straight line, unlike the stairs at the Burrow. Eventually, Hermione came back downstairs and took Pig's cage, freeing up both of Harry's hands.

When they finally reached the room, Hermione was sitting on one of the beds, Pig's cage in her lap. Ron and Harry set the trunk down at the foot of the bed where she was sitting, then waited for their tour to begin. Hermione smiled up at them and cleared her throat.

"Right then, well, this is your room, not much more to explain here." She stood up, set Pig's cage down atop Ron's trunk, then walked out of the room. Ron and Harry followed.

Hermione was standing in the hall, pointing at a door at the end of the hall. "That's my Mum and Dad's room. That," she pointed to the next door closest to them, "is the library."

"You have your own library?" Ron asked. He didn't know why he was surprised, Hermione was a walking library anyway, he supposed he would have been surprised if she didn't have a library.

"Well, yes. Actually, it also serves as an office for my parents, but that's where we store most of our books. Anyway, that," she pointed to the door between the library and his and Harry's room, "is the loo. And this last room," she pointed to the room on the opposite end of the hall, right next to his and Harry's, "is mine. Come along, I'm sure you've both wondered what it looks like."

Ron walked as far as the doorway, but found himself unable to cross the threshold. It was exactly what he would have imagined Hermione's room to be like.

The walls were painted a light shade of periwinkle, exactly the color of the dress robes that she wore to the Yule Ball in their fourth year. The large windows were draped with a thin white fabric that still let the light in. The bedcovers were also white, and Crookshanks was curled up and sleeping on the middle of the bed, which was to the left of the door. In the far corner there was a desk that was strewn with several pieces of parchment and an open book. Next to the desk was a towering bookshelf that was packed almost to bursting with school books and novels alike. And sitting in the corner across from the door was the item that Ron felt made the room Hermione's: a large, comfortable looking chair, with a novel sitting face down on the arm.

Hermione cleared her throat and brought Ron out of his reverie.

"Anyway, this is it. It's nothing special, really."

Ron caught her eye and smiled. He wanted to tell her that he thought it was perfect, but he couldn't find the words. Hermione broke their gaze and blushed as she moved past him and down the stairs. She showed them the kitchen (pointing out and describing the functions of several box-like objects while there, most of which Ron forgot before she even went on about the next one), the sitting room (where she showed Ron how to use a light switch. Amazing, the things Muggles think up), and her father's den before showing them the back garden. It was very spacious, and Ron momentarily thought that Hermione had chosen a nice spot for Harry's first birthday party.

Hermione spent several minutes showing them her mother's vegetable patch before taking them into the woods behind her house. They walked along a path for a few moments before Harry spoke.

"Um, Hermione? We are going somewhere, aren't we? You're not just leading us in here because of all the times we've taken you into the Forbidden Forest, are you?"

Ron caught Harry's eye and laughed. Hermione did not seem to find his joke funny, however.

"No, I'm not. Anyway, we're almost there."

Finally, they stepped out into an opening. There, ahead of them, was a small pond. Ron was able to register how amazing everything about Hermione was before she spoke again.

"This is just a local swimming spot. Everyone in the neighborhood knows about it, some people use it more than others, though. I just thought it might be nice to go swimming sometime if the weather's nice."

"Er, I don't have swimming trunks." Harry said.

"Oh, well, um," Hermione obviously hadn't expected this. "Well, I guess when we go into London we can pick you up some."

"I don't have any Muggle money either." Harry was starting to blush.

"Oh, well that's easy enough to fix. We'll just go to Gringotts first, and then you can exchange some wizarding money for Muggle money there."

Ron looked at Hermione incredulously.

"Hermione, why are we going into Muggle London?"

"Well, I don't think either of you have ever had the chance to explore Muggle London before, have you? It really is an interesting place. All right, maybe it's not as interesting as Diagon Alley, but I think it's ok."

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about what classes they might want to take during their sixth year and making predictions about the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"I see a terrible end in your future," Harry said in a very good impression of Trelawny.

They had just started wondering what would happen to their next professor when Mrs. Granger came in.

"Dinner's ready. Hermione, could you show the boys where everything is so that they can help set the table?"

Several minutes later, after having set out enough cutlery, plates, and glasses for everyone, Ron was sitting down to his first Muggle meal.

Not bad, Ron thought to himself as he took a bite of steak and kidney pie. I wonder if Hermione can cook like this.

Realizing the implication of the thought that had just gone through his head, Ron blushed and looked down at his plate.

The evening ended back in the sitting room. Harry and Ron were well into a game of Wizard's Chess and Hermione was sitting in a chair, her feet tucked underneath her, reading a book as she scratched behind Crookshanks' ear.

"Checkmate," Ron said for the third time that evening.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "You know, I don't know how you do it. Oh well. I'm going to go to bed, night, you two." Ron and Hermione both said "Good night" as Harry headed for the stairs.

Ron yawned as he finished putting away his chess pieces.

"I think that I'm going to go to bed as well. Night, Hermione."

"Well, if everyone else is going off to bed, I might as well head upstairs as well." She stood up, holding her book to her chest, and followed Ron up the stairs. She paused in her doorway before she turned to him and said, "Good night, Ron."

"Night, Hermione."

When Ron fell into bed minutes later, there was one thing going through his head. He closed his eyes and saw Hermione, silhouetted by the light from her room, wishing him good night.

Ron woke up close to midnight. He had forgotten the unction. Swinging his feet out of bed, he grumbled to himself. He had been having a very nice dream, something about Hermione and the local swimming hole, but as soon as he woke it slipped away.

His tub of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction in tow, Ron shuffled his way down the hall to the loo. When there, he pushed the door closed, turned on the light, and pulled off his shirt. He studied himself in the mirror for a moment before applying the salve to the marks.

His time as Keeper had resulted in some toning and definition of his muscles, but he was still, undeniably, lanky. Beyond that, however, there were other things that bothered Ron about his body. Over the last couple years, fine, red hairs had sprouted randomly along his chest. He still was not sure what he felt about this. He knew he was supposed to have body hair, but he did not want to resemble a yeti. Ron wondered if he was supposed to shave this hair, like he had started doing with the hair that had shown up on his face, as well. He quickly disregarded the idea, however, and opened the tub of the unction.

He had just finished treating the welts on his arms, stomach, and chest, and was contemplating how he was going to reach the ones on his back without his mother when Ron looked into the mirror and nearly screamed.

There, standing in the doorway with her mouth open and her eyes as wide as saucers, was Hermione, in only her night dress and dressing gown. As soon as Ron met her gaze in the mirror she dropped her eyes to the floor.

"Sorry...only wanted to...door was open...didn't think anyone was awake..."

Ron looked down at himself and registered that he was naked from the waste up. He hastened to cover himself with his arms.

"I, um..." He held up the tub as a means of explanation.

"Oh, right." Hermione made a funny coughing sound and looked back down at the floor. She fiddled with the cuff of her dressing gown when she asked the next question. "Um, do you always apply it without a shirt on?"

Ron's blush was steadily creeping down his body. He began shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Well, you see the thing is, um..."

Hermione looked up at him, noticed the marks along his back for the first time, and gasped, her hand quickly covering her mouth as if to silence the sound she had already made.

"Ron! What--what happened? Are those from the--did you get them the night of--"

"Yes," Ron said simply. Hermione looked horror struck.

"Oh, Ron! Why didn't you tell us? Is that all of them? Do you have any others?"

Ron dropped his arm in response. Hermione squeaked and looked as though she was going to cry. Ron turned to her and tried to calm her, still well aware of his lack of clothing.

"Look, Hermione, I just didn't want to upset you. We all had enough to be worried about, and these aren't as bad as the ones on my arms. Madam Pomfrey thinks that they will be completely healed by the start of term, honestly. Just don't tell Harry, please. When he saw the ones on my arms today, he looked like he felt really guilty, and I don't even want to think about what he'd look like if he found out there were more of them, ok?"

Hermione nodded, although she still looked like she was on the verge of tears. When she spoke, her voice was slightly higher than usual.

"How did you reach the ones on your back?"

"I was just thinking about how to do that when I spotted you, actually," Ron said turning back to the mirror. "I think that if I bend my arm like this, and crane my neck over my shoulder, I should be able to--"

"Here."

"Where?"

"No, give me the balm, I'll do it."

"What? No, Hermione, you don't have to, I'm sure I can do it myself, honestly."

"I know I don't have to, but if you try to bend your arm like that we'll be taking you to St. Mungo's for a dislocated shoulder, so give it here."

Ron handed Hermione the tub and watched as she read over the directions several times. She then dipped her fingers into the salve, and touched them to his back. Ron gasped as he felt her fingers make contact. Hermione pulled her hand away like she had been scalded.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No. No, you're fine, promise." He gave her a small smile, and she started again.

Ron squeezed his eyes shut, fighting off the reaction that was desperately trying to take place. He took several deep breaths and thought of Quidditch as Hermione continued applying the ointment to his skin. Ron chanced a glance and opened his eyes to watch her in the mirror.

She had a look of extreme concentration on her face as she slowly applied the salve along the marks that the brain had left. Hermione bit her lip as she drew another long line with her fingers along his back. She looked up and met his eyes in the mirror, then promptly looked back down, blushing.

When Hermione had finished covering all the welts on Ron's back with a thin coat of the unction, he pulled his shirt back over his head and told the floor just left of Hermione's foot 'good night'.

As Ron fell into bed for the fourth time that day he could not help but grin at the thought of Hermione blushing. Ron knew that she was not blushing for the same reasons that he had been, but as he drifted off to sleep he allowed himself to entertain the idea.