This Dance We Do

Chapter 6: Muggle Artifacts

Ron hesitated momentarily before returning Hermione's hug. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. She smelled of something sweet, something feminine, something Hermione. And there was another scent, one beneath the smell of her hair.

"Hermione?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you wearing the perfume I got you for Christmas?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Just wondering."

Ron smiled and closed his eyes again. He was holding Hermione and it felt...right. He was surprised and almost knocked backwards when she suddenly stood up.

"We should go talk to Harry."

"He said he was tired."

"I know what he said, but I think he only said it to be left alone."

"Well, if he wants to be alone, shouldn't we leave him alone?"

"He doesn't actually want to be alone, he just thinks he does. He wants to talk to us, he just doesn't know how."

Ron raised an eyebrow at Hermione.

"You might know a lot about girls, Hermione, but you know nothing about blokes. We pretty much mean what we say, end of story."

It was Hermione's turn to raise her eyebrow.

"Is that so?" Ron didn't have a chance to answer, however, because Hermione took off up the stairs to go drag Harry out of bed. Ron sighed and heaved himself up off the floor, then followed her upstairs.

He reached the room that he shared with Harry and paused in the doorway. Hermione was perched on the edge of Harry's bed, lightly brushing hair out of his face as he gave a loud (and obviously fake) snore. Ron felt a pang of jealousy rip through him, followed closely by one of guilt. Hermione was simply trying to help Harry.

-288"Harry? Do you want we could go into London today? We could swing by the Leaky Cauldron and get some Butterbeers. Or, if you don't want to go that far, I could show you guys around town. We could go see a film, if you'd like. I hear there are some good ones playing in the cinema."

Harry gave another snore and rolled over, nearly kicking Hermione off the bed in the process. She stumbled to her feet and drew herself up to her full height. Ron recognized that stance; she was not only upset, but deeply hurt as well.

"Fine. I'll be up about lunch later, if you're awake."

She turned on her heel and stormed from room, nearly knocking Ron over on her way out. He hurried to follow her, closing the door behind him.

"Well," she rounded on him, "what do you want to do? You have the options I offered Harry or I could show you some Muggle things around the house, unless you don't want to be around me either. Come on," she snapped her fingers, "it's not that difficult a decision."

Ron's jaw dropped. She was not taking this out on him, was she? He reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand mid snap, causing her to jump. She seemed to realize herself and deflated.

"I'm sorry, it's just...I went to a lot of trouble so that Harry could spend the summer here, and I only hoped--"

She cut off and dragged him into a room, shutting the door behind them. Ron looked around and nearly died. He was in Hermione's room. With Hermione. Alone. Quidditch. Quidditch. Quidditch. Ron looked up and realized Hermione was talking again.

"I hoped that if he spent the summer with friends," she continued in hushed tones, "and away from places that held memories of Sirius, then maybe he would be able to cheer up some, and...well..." She gave Ron a pleading look, like she wanted him to understand what she could not say.

He nodded, not knowing what else to do, and was rewarded with a faint smile. He smiled in return, then cleared his throat, remembering where he was.

"Well, um, could you show me some of these Muggle things?"

Hermione's smile grew and she seemed to glow.

Ron soon regretted his decision. Hermione took him around the house showing him one box-like contraption after another, with uses ranging from washing the dishes ("Well, Muggles can't very well use the Cleaning Charm, can they, Ron?") to displaying miniature people acting out different scripts. She gave long boring histories of each object, causing Ron to think that she had spent one too many years in Professor Binns class. The velly-tision was the only one that Ron was really interested in, even though he found it the most confusing.

"So, it's like the theater, in this little box?" he asked her for the sixth time.

"Sort of, yes. Different programs come on different channels at different times, and you choose which one you want to watch, and it will play out here." She tapped the glass.

"And they can't hear or see you?" Ron asked, tapping the glass himself. He half expected the little people to jump and run for cover.

"Nope. See, it's already filmed, then it's broadcast, and we watch it."

Ron looked at her and his confusion must have been evident, because she burst into laughter and moved into the kitchen.

"Never mind, it's not that important. There are two more things I want to show you."

Ron looked back at the velly-tision before he followed Hermoine into the kitchen, wondering what they could have missed from their first tour through. He found her opening a door that must have been positioned directly under the stairs that went up to the second floor. She made a grand gesture towards the door.

"After you. The light is at the bottom of the stairs, so if you could get it when you're down there, please."

Ron shot her a look, then looked down to where she wanted him to go. He was looking down a set of stairs that continued into complete darkness. He shot Hermione a worried look, but started down the stairs anyway; he did not want her to think he was not brave.

Ron reached the bottom of the stairs and groped around for a light switch. There did not seem to be one anywhere within his arm's reach. He turned to ask Hermione where it was and was hit hard by something heavy. He fell to the ground and the heavy something followed him, landing on top of him with a loud "Ooff!"

Oh Merlin, Ron thought. Hermione's on top of me. Hermione's on top of me! Quidditch. Potions. Quidditch. Potions.

"Ron?" Hermione asked from somewhere near his chest. "Are you all right?"

"Uh huh," Ron squeaked.

He felt her weight leave his chest and suddenly he was blinded by a bright light. He looked up to see a bare light bulb with a string hanging down from it. Hermione was standing beneath it and was brushing herself off.

"Why didn't you get the light, like I asked?" she inquired, holding out a hand to help him up.

"I couldn't find it," Ron said, taking her outstretched hand and pulling himself to his feet. "You didn't tell me they had strings too."

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, I completely forgot. You are all right though? I didn't hurt you or anything, did I?"

"No, I'm fine. Promise."

She smiled at him, then walked past him to two more box-like objects that were standing in the corner. Hermione propped herself up on the far left one and looked at Ron. He took a few steps closer."

"This," she indicated the box she was sitting on, "is called a washing machine. It's what Muggles use to clean their clothes. When they're done in this, they get put into," she patted the box next to her, "the tumble dryer. This dries the clothes. Any questions?"

"Do these also run on eckeltricity as well?"

Hermione giggled.

"Electricity, Ron. E-lek-tri-city, okay?"

Ron shook his head. "Whatever, do they run on it as well?" She nodded. "Weird."

They were getting ready to head back upstairs when Ron saw something dangling from the string Hermione used to turn on the light. He took a few involuntary steps backwards, earning a perplexed look from Hermione.

"What?" she asked.

"Spider." Ron said as calmly as he could. "I think we should just stay down here for a bit. Don't want it dropping on us or anything."

Hermione looked to where Ron's gaze was fixed and sighed before walking over to the spider and throwing it across the room.

"Okay?" she asked.

Ron blushed scarlet as he made his way up the stairs. When he and Hermione were back in the kitchen he had a difficult time looking at her.

"What?" She looked concerned, like she was worried she had done something wrong.

Ron shook his head but still would not look at her. He took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Ron?" Hermione sat across from him and tried to get him to look at her. "Don't tell me you're not talking to me now either, because if that's the case I'll just send you and Harry home today."

"It's not that," he traced the patter on the table with one of his fingers, "it's just...I can't even deal with a little spider, how am I supposed to get through whatever's coming up with You-Know-Who?"

"You have a fear, Ron, everyone has them. That doesn't mean you aren't brave. Besides, you were able to go into the woods and face Aargog during our second year."

Ron just grunted. Saying how he only went in there in hopes that it would somehow save her sounded lame.

"Ron, everyone's afraid of something. Bravery comes when we face our fears. You're much braver than I am."

Ron snorted. "How's that?"

0"Well, I'm terrified of heights."

"And..."

"And that's why I never did well in flying lessons our first year. I couldn't get myself to go up that high."

"You went on the thestrals last year, and they went up much higher than I've ever been on a broom."

"But I didn't know how high up we were going when I got on it, did I?"

"Well, what about the Quidditch stands? Those are pretty high up. You're in those all the time."

"Yes, well that's different. The stands are something solid, so they don't scare me."

Ron looked at Hermione. He had the vague sense that she was simply saying all this to make him feel better. Strangely enough, he did take some comfort in the idea that she thought he was brave.

He opened his mouth in the hopes of saying something charming, but his stomach had other ideas. Just as he opened his mouth it growled loudly, sending Hermione into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, shut it," he said, trying not to smile himself. "So, how about lunch?"

He and Hermione spent the next several minutes making a variety of sandwiches, which she piled on a tray and carried upstairs to his and Harry's room. Ron followed with glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.

When they reached the door, Ron knocked. When Harry did not answer, he simply opened the door and walked in. Harry was still in bed, snoring louder than ever. Ron raised an eyebrow at Hermione before turning back to Harry.

"Oi! Mate! Get out of bed, we've got food." Nothing. "Come on, you must be hungry."

Ron shot Hermione a pleading look, and she took over.

"Come on Harry, please get out of bed. I invited you over so we could all spend time together."

Still nothing. Ron tried again.

"Come on, Potter, get your lazy arse out of bed." Hermione made a scandalized noise and Harry rolled over. Ron could have sworn that Harry made a rude gesture.

"Fine." Hermione moved to the dresser that stood between his and Harry's beds and set the tray down on it. She piled a plate high with sandwiches and reached for one of the glasses Ron was holding. Ron filled it with lemonade then handed it to her. She set it next to the plate, then picked up her tray and headed for the door. Before leaving, she turned toward Harry and said, quite loudly, "Your lunch is on the dresser. If you choose to feign sleep come dinner time, I'm going to have Ron carry you downstairs."

"I am?" When did they come to this agreement? Hermione shot him a dirty look, though, that left no doubt in his mind that he would be carrying Harry downstairs if he did not come willingly. "I mean, that's right, I am."

Hermione rolled her eyes and left the room. Ron was quick to trot after her, closing the door behind him as he left the room. He had only been at Hermione's house for less than a day, and already it was proving to be his most interesting holiday ever.