The Final Year

Chapter 2

On the Way to Kings Cross

"All, I'm saying is that I think it may be best for her to transfer to a regular school this year," Mr. Granger's voice droned on. "I'm sure Hermione can continue taking witch lessons by correspondence or something."

"Darling," Mrs. Granger placated her husband calmly, "we've been through this a million times. Hermione will be absolutely safe at Hogwarts. And, Professor McGonagall assured us that she'll actually be safer there."

Hermione sat in the back seat of her parents silver Volvo as it made its way to Kings Cross. She hated when her parents discussed her like this, like she wasn't sitting two feet from them, like she wasn't almost an adult who had been involved in more dangerous situations than most people three times her age.

She looked out the window and watched the rolling countryside pass by as her father and mother continued to debate a topic that was truly a moot point. Hogwarts was the safest place for her to be and she was going. That was that. Her father knew this, but Hermione knew that debating was just something her parents did, whether the end result mattered or not. It wasn't arguing, like some couples, it was more of an endless discussion until one or the other finally conceded. Sometimes, she thought her parents actually kept score.

Hermione sank back against the leather seat, pulled the sweater she was wearing closer around her, to ward off the chill from the car's air conditioning, and closed her eyes. She let her mind wander as she mentally tuned out her parents' conversation, letting it drift into the background like the hum of the tires on the road and the gentle purr of the auto's motor.

******

Soon she was thinking back to the summer, her last before having to enter the 'real world', as her parents called it...

It had been quite a summer for Hermione. The second week she was home, her parents hosted a barbeque and invited the new neighbors over. It turned out they had a son Hermione's age named William that was home from Eton.

He was handsome and intelligent, and the two of them hit it off from the beginning. Hermione's father was thrilled. It was the first time she had had a muggle boyfriend, and he had high hopes that this would be a long-term relationship. Hermione actually thought it might be the beginnings of something as well. Being with William made her forget the mortal peril the wizarding world was truly in, at times. That is until three weeks later, when William's girlfriend from Surrey showed up at his doorstep, while he and Hermione were outside together sitting on a garden swing. Hermione didn't speak with him again.

After that, the month of July was one sunny, but boring, day blurred into the next. Hermione kept busy going over the N.E.W.T. preparation texts she had brought home to read over the summer. She too was incommunicado with most of the people from the Order, and could glean nothing of importance from the Daily Prophet about what was happening on the war against Voldemort.

Hermione was poring over the most recent issue of the Prophet, trying to detect any real piece of news from it when Pigwidgeon scampered through the window. He fluttered madly about Hermione's head as she tried to catch a hold of Ron's wee, little owl. Finally, she caught the manic tiny ball of feathers, no larger than a tennis ball, and was able to remove the letter that was tied to its leg.

She opened the letter to see Ron's untidy scrawl.

Hello Hermione,

I was just talking to my mum and she was thinking you'd like to come for a visit next week. We're going to Diagon Alley the week after next, so maybe you could stay for both weeks and go with us? We have to pick up Harry's books too. You know why. He got a bit shirty with me when I told him Mum said we'd bring his books to Kings Cross. Anyway, can't blame him. I think he's going a bit bonkers locked up with those muggles all summer.

Oh, Ginny, says you have to come because she is so bored with just me around. Feeling's mutual, Gin. Well, send your reply back with Pig and Dad said he'll set your house up on the Floo Network for the day.

Ron - oh, and Ginny.

******

When Hermione arrived at the Burrow, it was the emptiest she had ever seen it, yet somehow the home was still filled with the love of a family that was as close knit as the Weasleys. She stepped out of the fireplace into the welcoming hug of Mrs. Weasley. Ron stood back a bit, raised his hand and said, "Hello, Hermione." as Mr. Weasley appeared in the fireplace as well.

"Thank you so much for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley." Hermione smiled as she pulled herself from Mrs. Weasley's embrace. "Hello, Ron."

"Not a problem, not a problem at all, dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled back. "Well, Ron, help Hermione take her bags up to Ginny's room."

As Ron grabbed her bags and turned to go upstairs, Mr. Weasley said only half-jokingly as he brushed a bit of soot of his robes, "We'd let you stay in Fred and George's room, dear, but we're not quite certain we've got all of their paraphernalia out yet. Wouldn't want you to sprout antlers in the middle of the night, now would we?"

"Uh, no," Hermione replied, "Ginny's room will be great. Thank you." And with that, she followed Ron up the stairs to the third floor landing.

When they reached Ginny's room, Ron opened the door and heaved Hermione's bags onto the spare bed that had been wheeled in for her.

"Where is Ginny anyway?" Hermione asked as Ron plopped down on Ginny's bed to watch Hermione unpack.

"Oh, she got a letter the day after we found out you could come visit," Ron said, looking a bit uncomfortable about the subject. He lowered his voice, as if he didn't want anyone to hear. "She had to go to Hogwarts. Remedial potions!"

Hermione stopped unpacking and looked at Ron, her brow furrowed. "You're kidding."

"No, wish I was," he replied. "I thought Mum and Dad were going to have kittens when they found out! Said even Fred and George never had to go to summer school!"

"I never knew she was having so much trouble," Hermione said as she sat down across from Ron.

"Yeah. Me neither. We found out she didn't pass her O.W.L. in potions, and mum and dad wrote Professor Dumbledore to see if there was anyway she could still take potions this year.

"I guess Snape said the only way would be if she took remedial potions to catch her up a bit. Hopefully the extra help will put her back on the right track. Although I don't know how spending anytime with Snape could help anyone." Ron shuddered at the thought of receiving almost private tutelage from his least favorite professor.

"I wish she'd said something to me," Hermione frowned as she began to unpack again. "I would've been happy to help her."

"I'm guessing she was a bit embarrassed really. Probably didn't think it'd get that bad, you know? Anyway, it's been really, really quiet around here. It's made me glad you were coming," he smiled at her.

"So, how is everyone else doing?" Hermione asked as she put several pairs of shorts into a drawer Ginny had labeled Hermione's.

"Well," Ron said as he looked up at the ceiling as if he had to really think about how the remainder of his siblings were "Fred and George are doing really well with WWW. They have a flat now right on Diagon Alley. Said they wanted to be close to their shop. Bill and Charlie are still in London too. Charlie's dying to go back to Romania, but he knows he's needed here. Bill's still working for Gringotts in Diagon Alley, which is convenient for the Order. And, Percy's still a prat."

Hermione put the remainder of her clothes neatly into the now full drawer and shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's still in denial. Even Fudge accepted the fact that Voldemort's back."

Ron shuddered again at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

"Oh, seriously, Ron!" Hermione scolded. "It's just a name!"

"Sorry. It's habit."

******

The next morning Hermione, Ron and Mrs. Weasley enjoyed a delicious breakfast out on the patio. The morning sun was already bright and warm, a drastic change from the previous day of solid rain. The birds chirped merrily from tree to tree and the smell of summer, a mixture of lilacs and fresh grass, wafted through the air.

"I wish Arthur had had time to have breakfast with us this morning," Mrs. Weasley mused as she began to gather up the plates.

Hermione immediately joined in the clearing process, while Ron stretched back lazily in his chair, allowing the front two legs come off the ground, letting the yellow sun shine fully on his face, closing his eyes dreamily.

"He must be very busy at the Ministry," Hermione said as she gathered up the carafe that had held the orange juice.

"Oh yes! Very busy!" Mrs. Weasley replied as the two women walked into the kitchen.

Once the dishes were in the sink, Mrs. Weasley gave her wand a little swish and instantly the faucets turned on and a sponge jumped to life scrubbing clean the dirty dishes. After each dish was scrubbed, another flick of Mrs. Weasley's wand and they were then sent off to a hovering towel to be dried and then levitated back into the cabinet. "I've hardly seen Arthur over the last month, to be quite honest."

As the last dish was dried and placed safely away. Mrs. Weasley turned to the Weasley family clock and sighed as she gazed at her husband's hand that had spent so much time in the 'Work' position lately. "Well," she said as she came out of her reverie "I'm going into Diagon Alley for some shopping, and I'm going to bring Arthur some lunch. Hopefully he'll have time to take a little break and eat with me. I should be home before dinner."

"Is there something I can fix for dinner for everyone?" Hermione offered.

"That is so incredibly sweet!" Mrs. Weasley smiled. "But, no, I'll make something when I return. You enjoy yourself, you only have a few more weeks of summer holiday left!" With that, Mrs. Weasley grabbed her handbag from the shelf and disapparated away with a POP!

Hermione turned and walked outside to find Ron still stretched out lazily in his chair.

"Where's Mum?" He asked not opening his eyes.

"She went to Diagon Alley, and she was going to try to have a lunch date with your father. She said she'd be home before supper."

Ron finally sat up and looked at Hermione questioningly. "If she's going to be gone all day, who's going to make lunch? Did she leave food?"

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted. "You have got to be kidding?! Are you two?"

"No, but.." Ron started.

"The way you act sometimes!" Hermione turned and began to walk out towards the garden gate. "Come on!" She said as she turned back towards him. "Show me the pond your father put in."

Ron got up from his chair, shaking his head and muttering, "Women." And jogged to catch up with her.

******

The pond was quite larger than Hermione had expected. She had imagined something that would have been appropriate in a garden. The Weasley pond, however, was more like a very, small lake. It was located on the far edge of the Weasley's property. Only the uppermost chimneystack of the Burrow could be seen in the distance.

A path meandered around the outside edge, lined with heavenly scented flowering shrubs and plants. Cattails grew in one end. Ron explained his father had planted those there for the babies.

"Babies?" Hermione asked.

"Dad stocked it with fish. He's got a new Muggle fascination now. Fly-fishing. Spends what little amount of free time he has at night wrapping string around hooks. It's really bizarre. Says it's an art or something." Ron said as he picked up a rock and skipped it across the mirror like surface of the pond, sending ripples cascading to the far side.

"He's given up on plugs then?" Hermione asked as they continued to walk around the perimeter.

"Well, not really given up. Just more like added on to," Ron said. "But, he hasn't really had time to even come down here and do any fishing, with work and everything."

"That's a shame. So, how's Padma?" Hermione asked casually.

"Padma who?" Ron said a bit sarcastically as he skipped another rock.

"Padma... your girlfriend?" Hermione replied annoyed at his evasiveness.

"Oh... her," Ron said a bit bitterly, as he threw a third rock and instead of skipping it simply went PLOOMP! to the bottom of the pond. "She's fine I guess."

"Oh."

"Broke up with me though," Ron continued as his fourth rock skimmed across the surface of the pond.

Hermione looked at him, startled at the news. "Really?! When? Whatever for?"

"Yes, really. Beginning of summer. And said I didn't pay enough attention to her," Ron said sulkily as he threw his last stone as far as he could into the center of the pond.

"Well, that's a bit unfair, isn't it?" Hermione said a bit irritably. "After all we went through last year." She shook her head and continued to gaze out over the slowly relaxing water.

"Doesn't really matter. I didn't fancy her that much anyway." Ron replied.

Ron and Hermione continued their walk around the pond. Hermione changed the subject hoping Ron would have some information on what was going on with Voldemort and the Order, but he too had been kept in the dark. Even though his father worked for the Ministry of Magic and was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Ron hadn't been able to find out anything significant.

He had even asked Fred and George, who had joined the Order last year, when they came to visit the weekend before last. "Wouldn't tell me a thing," Ron sulked. "They kept saying, Ickle Ronniekins is too young to know about the bad stuff going on in the world. And then they'd laugh and walk off. Right frustrating, plus the fact that they switched my toothpaste out with their newest product, Totally Troll Teeth. I had giant, brown, square teeth jutting out of my mouth all morning!"

Hermione tried not to laugh, covered her mouth and pretended to cough.

"It wasn't funny," Ron mumbled as he walked off ahead, heading back to the Burrow.

Hermione caught up to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. She hadn't realized how much taller he was than her until that moment. "Ron..."

Two things happened quite quickly and at the same time. Ron turned to look at Hermione prepared to remind her of the tooth hex she had suffered in 4^th year and how not funny that was. And, Ron stepped in a gnome hole and fell instantly to the still muddy ground.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted as he clutched his ankle.

"Ron! Are you OK?" Hermione said as she bent over him.

"My ankle! I think I've broken it! Blasted garden gnomes! I told dad we should just exterminate the whole lot of them, but he thinks they're funny."

Just then a little, brown, potato shaped creature popped out of the hole Ron had tripped in, shaking his pointy, little fists at Ron and gnashing his teeth as if he had overheard what Ron had said about him. Ron instinctively kicked at the creature, but had mistakenly chosen to use his injured leg.

"Oooohhh!" He screamed as the gnome scurried back down his hole.

"Ron, you have to calm down," she said as she took carefully pulled up his pant leg to look at his ankle. "Your ankle is starting to swell."

"Alright," Ron said as he leaned back further onto the muddy ground, going a bit pale from the pain.

"I'm going to run back to the house and see if your Mum's back. If not, I'll try flooing your father at the office, or maybe Fred or George at the shop." Hermione stood up to leave when Ron grabbed her leg.

"You're... you're not leaving me here alone are you?" He asked a hint of panic in his voice. "What if some beast finds me lying here all helpless?"

Hermione snorted. "Give me a break, Ron. You'll be fine. Are you afraid the gnomes are going to get you?!"

"Well, you saw the little bugger! I bet they'd love to get their little teeth in me! He's probably rounding up his mates right now!"

"Fine," Hermione sighed, "I'll help you walk back to the house and see what we can do there."

The pair slowly made their way across the hilly land back to the Burrow, in the distance. Ron used Hermione as a crutch, his one clean arm around her shoulders, and her arm around his waist. More than once another gnome hole, a rock, root, or fallen tree branch threatened to send the pair toppling again. This, coupled with the herd of gnomes that had accumulated a short distance behind them giggling at their slow progress, did not improve Ron's mood.

Finally, they reached the garden gate, walked across the lawn and approached the house.

"Wait!" Ron said suddenly. "I can't go inside."

"What? Why not?"

"Are you kidding? Mum would skin me alive if I went in there covered in mud! Can you go up to my room and grab me a pair of jeans?" Ron asked as he began to take off his muddy t-shirt.

"Sure," she said as she turned and went into the house.

A minute later, she returned with a clean pair of jeans. Ron was standing there, on one leg, still in his muddy pants, but with his shirt off and tossed carelessly over the back of one of the patio chairs. Hermione stopped halfway out the kitchen door.

She had never seen Ron with his shirt off, nor would she have guessed that his arms would be so well muscled. Not those bulky, round muscles competition body builders get, no, these were long, lean muscles, more like you'd see on a the flanks of a powerful animal, such as a tiger. Yes, a tiger. She thought.

His stomach muscles were also well defined giving clue to thousands of sit-ups and crunches. And his pecs told her he had to have been working out sometime. Even his shoulders looked strong and broad. He had a slight tan, giving his whole upper body a warm, golden glow that she simply could not look away from.

"Uh... Hermione? Could I have my pants?" Ron's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Oh... yeah... sorry." She crossed the short distance between them, still not taking her eyes off his chest.

"Thanks," he said as he took the pants from her. The two of them simply stood there, Ron looking at her quizzically, and Hermione looking at him with her mouth slightly open. "Are you going to turn around or something, so I can put my pants on?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, immediately blushing in embarrassment that she had been staring at him so. "Yeah, ummm... I'm just going to go back inside and see if I can find something for your ankle. I'll be back in a second."

She rushed inside the darkened house. She stopped and leaned on the counter, letting the coolness of the house's interior wash over her body. Collecting her thoughts.

What had she been thinking anyway? It was just Ron, for goodness sake. Yeah, but Ron with his shirt off. Her brain answered.

She took a deep breath and made her way upstairs to see what she could find in the linen closet, for Ron's swelling ankle. Tucked behind an assortment of bottles and boxes, Hermione found what she was looking for. Dr. Devlin's All Purpose Bandages ~ For strains, sprains, muscle aches, headaches, and warts.

Hermione ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and returned to the patio. Ron had changed, but was still shirtless. Even sitting, his lean muscles looked almost fluid underneath his sun kissed skin. She broke her gaze away from his torso and looked into his eyes. He was smiling at her, shaking his head in disbelief.

"What is with you, Hermione?"

"Oh," she quickly recovered this time, "you have a little bit of dirt, right here." She pointed to her nose, "Did you know?"

Ron's smile widened and then turned into a laugh. "Are you going to bandage my ankle or just let my foot fall off from gangrene?"

"You can't get gangrene from a sprain," Hermione laughed as she knelt down on the ground next to the foot he held elevated off the ground several inches.

Hermione carefully untied his mud-covered sneaker, removed it, and then lifted up his pant leg to remove his sock. She looked up into his face, his red hair glistening in the mid-day sun. He is rather cute all helpless like this, she thought.

"OK, this may hurt a little, but I'll be as careful as I can," Hermione warned him.

"OK," he squeaked out, and took in a deep breath, preparing for the worst.

Very carefully, Hermione rolled down his sock pausing just above the obvious bulge of swelling that had already begun. Slowly reaching in to the sock, she positioned her fingers of both hands so she could stretch it over the injury. Ron winced as her finger brushed the swollen mass.

"Sorry," she said as she continued to pull the sock around the heel.

"It's OK," he managed to reply while still holding his breath.

Finally, the sock was off and both Ron and Hermione let out a large sigh.

"Now, I'm going to bandage it," Hermione explained. Ron nodded.

She held up the Dr. Devlin's box and read the instructions on the back.

"Are you seriously reading that box?" Ron asked in amazement.

"Well, yes, of course," she said turning her attention back to the box.

"I swear you'll read anything, won't you?" Ron sighed heavily again. "That's fine. I'll just sit here in pain. Take your time."

After only a moment, Hermione took the bandage out of the box, and set the box on the ground. "There, I'm done. That didn't take so long, now did it?" She looked at him and smiled.

"Now the box says we wrap it in a counter-clockwise motion, when facing the injured person. So.... it goes like this...." She gently placed the end of the flesh-colored bandage on the top of Ron's foot and began wrapping it counter-clockwise. She looked up at him again to make certain she wasn't hurting him. He had leaned forward to watch and Hermione once again became mesmerized by the sinewy muscles of his shoulders and upper arms flexing ever so slightly under his skin.

Focus, Hermione! For Merlin's sake! She scolded herself and went back to work.

As he leaned forward further to take a better look, Hermione got a whiff of a spicy, yet sweet scent, with an underlying tone of the ocean. Once again, she looked up from her bandaging into the face of one of her best friends in the entire world.

"Are you wearing cologne?" She asked.

"Huh? Cologne? No, it's probably the soap my Mum bought at some boutique in town the other day. It's a little frilly for me."

"I like it. It smells nice." Hermione smiled up at him. He actually was quite handsome, when she came to think about it.

"Yeah?" He said, "I guess it's OK."

Hermione went back to wrapping Ron's ankle, trying desperately not to look back up at his naked chest, knowing it was only a few inches from her. The scent of him kept teasing her nose as the gentle summer breeze played with the air around her. Finally she was done.

"Now, I just put these clips on, and we see what color it turns," she told him, trying to regain some of her composure.

"What color my leg turns?" Ron asked, panic rising once again in his voice.

"No, silly, the bandage."

"Oh... right."

Hermione put the two clips that secured the outer end of the bandage to the wrapping and waited. Very slowly the bandage turned from fleshy skin color to a bright fuchsia.

"Oh good, pink!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What does pink mean? And does it stay that color?" Ron questioned.

"Pink means it's just a strain, nothing serious. You should feel it getting cooler now," she said.

"Yeah, it is."

"Then it's working right. In a few minutes it should go through a heating cycle, and then cooling. Back and forth until you're healed, which should be by tomorrow morning, according to the box," Hermione informed him as she picked up the box. "Come on, I'll help you into the living room. Maybe we can play chess?"

Hermione once again acted as human crutch as Ron made his way across the patio, through the kitchen and into the living room. She sat him down on the couch and then grabbed a throw pillow from the rocking chair in the corner. She put the pillow on the coffee table and then lifted Ron's leg up, setting it gently down on the pillow.

"How's that?" She asked as she kneeled on the couch next to him.

"Much better," Ron replied, and then turned to look into Hermione's eyes. "You know, Hermione, I don't think I've ever told you this, but... well.." he turned away from her, his cheeks beginning to flush. "You're really great. You know that, right?"

"Oh, Ron, that's so sweet." And with that she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek backing only slightly away from him when she was finished, her heart racing as the spicy, sweet, oceany scent began to wash over her. "Thank you." She continued breathlessly, leaning in again for a second kiss on the cheek, but this time Ron turned his head and met her mouth with his own.

She pulled away just enough to look into his eyes, uncertain. The smile that greeted her took away any doubt, however, and she leaned back in to kiss his lips gently again. Butterflies danced merrily in the pit of her stomach, as once again he met her kiss with his own.

Slowly, very slowly, they deepened the kiss, moving from soft, gentle, testing pecks, to more prolonged contact. Hermione felt the gentle tickle of his tongue, as he tenderly kissed her bottom lip. She responded by lightly taking the corner of his top lip in between hers again echoing with a soft touch from the tip of her tongue.

The next thing she knew he had fully captured her mouth and deepened the kiss, sending her pulse racing and her head spinning. She wanted nothing more than to continue kissing him that way for the rest of her life. His hands were in her hair, then cradling the sides of her face, and then working their way down her neck.

Instinctively, she moved her body over him, kneeling now on either side of his lap. She allowed her hands to travel from his thick hair, down his face, and onto his neck, mimicking his movements. Her hands traveled further, as his did too, across his broad shoulders and down the outside of his upper arms.

Lightly she ran her fingers up and down his arms, feeling the muscles she had been admiring only a short time earlier. His hands were now caressing her back, doing lazy circles, underneath her shirt, down her back and then back up all the way to the top of her neck, sending shivers down her spine each time.

More than anything she wanted to run her hands along his torso, so very gently she arched herself away from his body, still keeping his mouth firmly on hers. Very slowly, she moved her hands back up his arms and across his shoulders, this time allowing her hands to cascade down his chest.

Ron gasped slightly has her fingertips brushed his exposed nipples and then danced along his stomach. His stomach clenched uncontrollably under her touch. Hermione could begin to feel the effect she was having on Ron.

Perhaps this wasn't the best place to sit. She thought to herself as Ron's lips left her mouth and trailed down to her neck. As she ran her fingers back up his chest and back into his hair, he pulled her firmly into him and buried his mouth into the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder.

Hermione threw her head back, moaned gently, and thought, Perhaps it was.

Suddenly, they heard a POP! coming from the kitchen and immediately they both knew someone else was home. Luckily, Mrs. Weasley had thought the two of them would be outside on such a beautiful day, and went to the outside door first, rather than heading towards the living room.

Hermione jumped off Ron's lap hitting his injured leg with her foot.

"OW!" He winced.

"Sorry!" Hermione said trying to straighten her shorts and smooth her hair. "Stay here." She said as she went out to find Mrs. Weasley.

"Like I could go anywhere!" Ron complained.

Hermione headed for the patio, found Mrs. Weasley and told her of Ron's ankle. Hurriedly, Mrs. Weasley came into the living room and began to inspect Hermione's handiwork.

"Well," she said carefully looking over the bandage that was still a shocking pink "it looks like you've done a good job wrapping this, Hermione. And, it appears to only be a bit of a strain, thank Heavens!"

She stood up straight, surveyed her son, and then shaking her head she began to walk back into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner, muttering to herself. "I don't know how many times I've told your father we need to be rid of those gnomes once and for all. Could've broken your neck. Blasted things digging up my gardens, leaving ruddy holes everywhere..." Mrs. Weasley's voice trailed off as the door to the kitchen swung closed.

"So..." Ron started not looking at Hermione, "do you want to play chess?"

"Oh... sure," she answered with anything but certainty.

The rest of the evening passed by quite uncomfortably for Hermione. It was just the three of them for dinner, as it had been at breakfast. Mr. Weasley was once again working late. Mrs. Weasley had brought trays into the living room, so Ron could eat with his foot still propped up.

Hermione sat on Mr. Weasley's chair, as far away as possible from Ron. Yet, she found herself laughing a bit too loudly at the not so funny things Ron was saying when he was describing his fall and the band of gnomes that had followed them almost entirely home. More than once, Mrs. Weasley looked askance at her. To make matters worse, Ron seemed to be avoiding any direct eye contact at all with her, and only directed conversation at her when it involved passing the salt.

After dinner, Mrs. Weasley joined in and played Gobstones and chess. Hermione could see where Ron got his talent for chess, for Mrs. Weasley was quite a shrewd player. It wasn't until Mr. Weasley finally arrived home that they decided to call their 3-hour game a tie.

Mrs. Weasley began to head off to the kitchen to fix Mr. Weasley a plate when he stopped her with and exhausted look and said, "No, no, darling, I'm really not hungry at all. I ate the other sandwich you brought me for lunch just a while ago. Really, I think I'd just like to head up to bed. I have another early day, you know."

"Certainly, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley agreed. "You two should be getting off to bed as well," she said to Ron and Hermione. "Now, hold still, Ron," she continued as Ron stood to make his way upstairs, "and I'll levitate you up the stairs."

"Mum, no!" Ron cried out mortified. "My leg's not broken, you know! I can make it up on my own." With that he stood up on his good foot and began to hop over to the stairs.

"Goodness! What happened to you?" Mr. Weasley said just noticing his injured son.

"Tripped in a gnome hole, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley answered. "If you weren't so tired I'd give you a tongue lashing about those ruddy gnomes, but that can wait 'til tomorrow," she finished as she leaned in and kissed her husband on the cheek.

"Well, goodnight Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said as she followed Ron as he hopped up the stairs, "and, thanks once again for having me."

"You're more than welcome. Good night, dear. Good night, Ron," The Weasleys said together as they followed Ron and Hermione up the stairs and then headed toward their room on the second floor.

When Ron and Hermione reached the third floor landing, they stopped in front of Ron's bedroom door, and looked at each other awkwardly.

"Well... I... ummm," Ron started, "better get to bed. All that hopping is starting to make my ankle hurt again."

"Oh... yeah...," Hermione said as she looked down nervously at her feet. "Good night, then."

"Night," Ron answered and then turned and hopped into his room, closing the door behind him.

Hermione stood there for a moment. Part of her wanted to open Ron's door and ask him what in the world was going on. Part of her wanted to open Ron's door and throw him on the bed, injured leg and all, and kiss him again. However, the rational part of her told her she should just go to sleep, and so she made her way down the hallway to Ginny's room.

Once inside Ginny's room she changed into one of the summery nightgowns she had packed. She then brushed out her hair, grabbed her journal and quill, and laid down on the roll away bed to gather her thoughts.

For years she had been keeping a journal. It was often the only way she could get to sleep at night. So many nights, she'd lie down, her body physically tired, but her mind continued to race, keeping sleep at bay. She found that by writing her thoughts down she was able to clear them from her mind. Sometimes they were merely ramblings about the day's events, other times they were reflections of her hopes, dreams and fears.

She had considered asking for a pensieve for her birthday last year, but decided there was something much more cathartic about the whole writing process that she just couldn't give up.

Tonight, her journal entry was about Ron. Ron and all the feelings he had suddenly brought to the surface in her. Ron and now all the questions she had.

What did their kiss on the couch mean? Was it just a one-time occurrence? Did he want or expect more? Did she want more? If this did turn out to be something more, what about Harry? This would affect him. And, what if it didn't work out, then what? Where would it leave all three of them? Was it worth the risk?

After two full pages of unanswered questions, Hermione felt not only physically drained, but mentally as well. She stood up and put her journal back into the drawer, under her clothes, and stood looking in the mirror. She smiled at herself, shaking herself in disbelief at what had happened.

"It's late! You should be in bed!" The mirror scolded her suddenly, causing Hermione to jump a bit.

"I'm going. I'm going," Hermione replied.

"Did you brush your teeth?" The mirror inquired.

"You sound like my parents," Hermione snapped, but then realizing she hadn't headed out the bedroom door and down the hallway, past Ron's room, into the bathroom.

The house was quiet except for the gentle snores Hermione could hear coming from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room a flight below. Ron had told her their ghoul had not been the same since Fred and George left, his quietness a sure sign of depression due to the departure of the twins.

Hermione brushed her teeth, and then began to head back towards Ginny's room. She only walked two steps however, before she stopped outside Ron's door. Gently, she knocked, heart racing in her throat, but no answer came. Quietly, she turned the doorknob and opened the door just enough to step in.

Moonlight streamed through the open window on the opposite side of the room, as a warm night breeze fluttered the light curtains. Ron was lying on his back covered only in a sheet, his Chudley Cannons bedspread folded neatly at the foot of his bed.

"Ron?" She whispered from the doorway.

Ron's eyes fluttered open and his brow furrowed. "What's wrong, Hermione?" he said quietly as he sat up carefully.

"Oh, nothing, really," she lied as she watched the sheet slip down to Ron's waist, her mind starting to wonder what exactly Ron was wearing to bed this evening. She took another step into his room. "I just wanted to see how your ankle was doing."

"I think it's doing a bit better, actually," Ron said. "But, I can't tell if the bandage is changing color yet." He paused, as if considering his next sentence carefully, "Maybe you could take a look and see if it looks less pink to you."

"Sure," she said as she crossed the room, the door coming almost to a close behind her.

It took a moment for her eyes to become accustomed to the reduction in lighting. She sat carefully on the side of Ron's bed, pulled the sheet off of his foot and looked closely at the bandage. In the moonlight, it was merely a purplish shade of gray, impossible to tell if it had changed or not, however, she said, "It does look a little lighter."

As she turned back to face Ron, she discovered that he had leaned even further forward, his face only a few inches from hers. As tempted as she was to lean forward and kiss him, she was determined to first get some of the answers to the questions she had.

"Ron, I..." was all she had time to say, though, before he pulled her the rest of the way towards him and claimed her mouth for his own.

Goose bumps shivered up her arms as the butterflies in her stomach leapt to life again. All thoughts of unanswered questions fled from her mind as he pulled her even closer to him and she felt the beating of her own heart quicken with excitement. She became very and suddenly aware that she was wearing very little, as was he, which made her heart beat even louder.

He slowly moved his mouth over to her ear, nibbling gently on her earlobe, sending a fresh wave of goose bumps over her arms.

"I've wanted to do that all night," he whispered into her ear. "But, you better go, or I won't ever let you leave."

He pulled away from her and an uncontrolled whimper escaped Hermione's lips. But, she knew he was right and stood up shakily from the bed.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," she said as she leaned down and kissed him gently on the forehead.

"Much better, thank you," he said softly and laid back down, his arms behind his head.

Hermione quietly left his room, returned to her own, and fell immediately asleep.