Stuck With You

The summer holidays had never gone more slowly for Hermione Granger. The three weeks she had spent with her parents should have been much more enjoyable than they were. She spent such a short time with them last year, but it wasn’t long before her train of thought settled on Harry or Ron, wondering what they were doing. She had desperately missed her friends. It was therefore with great excitement that she had responded to Dumbledore's request that she once again come to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place to spend the rest of the summer safely.

It was a week after her arrival, and all the members of the Order of the Phoenix were out of the house on various assignments. Ginny was downstairs helping her mother with something, and Ron had been infuriating her the last two days, so she chose to stay in her room by herself. Hermione didn't particularly have any activity in mind, though she had planned on knitting a few hats to give the elves when she returned to Hogwarts, but even that didn't seem quite right for today. Sighing, she glanced at the table between her bed and Ginny's. 'Perhaps Ginny has a magazine or something I can read,' she thought, as her eyes scanned the little table quickly. A small black cube caught her attention and she picked it up gingerly.

It looked perfectly normal, or at least as normal as a small black cube the size and shape of a die should look. There were no markings, or seams, or indentations to denote any purpose to the thing. She placed it back on the table, intending to ask Ginny what it was the next time she saw her. Her search for a magazine yielded a month-old copy of Witch Weekly that she immediately tossed into the trash bin and she instead went through her trunk, finally settling down with Hogwarts, A History.

**********************

Ron hesitated before knocking on the door of the girls' room. Ginny and his mum had gone to London to buy a few things in Diagon Alley, and Ginny had simply asked him to tell Hermione that they wouldn't be home until dinner, but Ron was reluctant to talk to the girl. For whatever reason, everything he did lately made Hermione angry. He had been trying to avoid her today, which had been very lonely since Harry wouldn't arrive for another week. Already feeling grumpy, he knocked lightly before turning the door handle and entering the room.

"Mum and Ginny have gone into London, Hermione," he announced. He hoped that by telling Hermione quickly, it would allow him to leave quickly. He had no intention of making her angry today.

"All right," she said, not looking up from the large book in her lap. Ron was about to leave when her head popped up, a look on her face as if she had just thought of something. "Oh, Ron, wait. You wouldn't happen to know what this is," she picked up a small black cube off the table between the beds, "would you? It really is fascinating." Hermione turned the cube over in her fingers, and something kicked Ron mentally. He recognized that thing--it was one of the new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products that Fred and George had brought by last week. Sticking Time Bombs, they called them. Fred had been lamenting the troubles they had been having to get the charm at the right strength for such a small object. The charm was supposed to last for five minutes, they had said, sticking whoever was unlucky to be holding the cube when it went off to whatever they touched next, while the cube itself disappeared. The batch they had brought with them, however, tended to last between three and five hours. 'So, George must have "dropped" one of those in here.' Ron thought.

"You shouldn't be touching that," he said to Hermione. He thought she probably wouldn't have minded being stuck to Hogwarts, A History for four hours, but he also knew he should warn her.

Hermione's expression darkened. Ron swore silently. This was exactly why he'd been avoiding her. He couldn't say anything right lately.

"I was only asking what it was, Ron," she said hotly. "What's it for, anyway?"

Ron reached out a hand for her to give it to him, but she didn't. "It's one of Fred and George's latest creations. One of them must have put it in here as a joke," he said, walking closer with his hand still outstretched. "Just don't eat it," he added.

"I wasn't about to eat this, Ron. Do I look stupid? And put your hand down. I'm not giving it to you just yet." She continued to rotate the little cube in her fingers, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Ron was unsure just how long she had been handling the bomb, but it was probably too long, and he reached out to take it. He knew it was wrong; that he should have just told her and she would have put it down, but he wasn't cooperating with his brain. He had just lunged for the cube in her fingers when a low ringing noise sounded from inside the cube and it was too late. The momentum he had brought his hand to her now empty palm a second later and Ron swore loudly.

"Ron!" Hermione said, offended at his language. Then she looked at their palms, which were stuck together as if they were holding hands. She looked horrified. Tugging hard, she only succeeded in pulling him jerkily forward. "Ron?" she said again, this time in a panic. Her voice was shaking mildly "What exactly was that?"

Ron sighed. "A Sticking Time Bomb." Hermione frowned. "Fred thought them up. They're supposed to stick you to whatever you touch next after the timing system runs down." Ron said grumpily.

Hermione reached for her wand. "Well, this spell shouldn't be too difficult to break," she said as she raised her wand slightly.

Just then, Ron remembered something else that Fred had told him about the bombs. "Er, you can't exactly just, er . . . break it. There's a special counter charm you have to know. It's going to be printed on the package."

"Let me guess," Hermione tugged on their hands, wrenching Ron off his feet and onto the floor. He got up quickly. "You don't know the counter charm."

He shook his head. "And anyway, you know we're not allowed to do magic outside of school."

"Right. You're right," she sighed, slightly. Hermione tugged once again experimentally, this time not yanking Ron off his feet. "So," she began, then stopped and thought. "So, we're stuck together?"

Ron nodded. "Yes. Er, until the charm wears off."

"Oh," she said. "Well, how long until it wears off? Shouldn't be more than a few minutes, right?" Hermione held their joined hands close to her face, looking as though she were trying to find a space between their hands.

"Er . . . " Ron began, uncertain that he would be safe once he told her that they should expect to be stuck until dinner. Taking a deep breath, he told her how long.

"FOUR HOURS?" she shrieked.

Ron winced. When Hermione wanted to, she could yell very loudly. It just so happened, his ear was mere feet from her at the time, and it did not appreciate being screeched into. He winced again, as this time she was yelling obscene (for Hermione) suggestions at where the twins should put all their next products. Ron would have laughed at the mental image that one of her suggestions brought to mind if it wasn't for the fact that she was, once again, tugging hard enough to pull him off his feet. He got up off the floor again, rubbing his knees and sat on the bed.

"I can't believe I have to be stuck to you for four hours." Hermione said, finishing her rant and turned to Ron. Ron bristled at the tone she was using.

"Hey, it isn't as if I planned this!” he hastily replied. “And anyway, this isn't exactly a picnic for me, either. If I wanted to be stuck to something shrill and annoying, I would have gone and tied Pig to my arm!" Ron was angry, but nowhere near as angry as Hermione obviously was. Eyes blazing, she yanked on their hands hard enough to send him to the floor again, and she sat down on her bed, not looking at him. Within a minute Hogwarts, A History was in her lap.

***************************************

It had been nearly an hour since she had last said anything to him, and Hermione was still angry. She'd wanted to be alone today. She'd wanted to have one argument-free day, but that was not going to be today. She was well aware that Ron was still sitting on the floor, but she didn't care. ‘Let him sit on the floor,’ she decided as she read chapter seven for the fourth time. She wouldn't allow him to be comfortable, not after the hurtful things he said.

Ron kept trying to say something, but she wasn't going to listen to him. 'I don't want to say anything shrill, do I?' she thought bitterly.

"Hermione?" Ron asked timidly. It was apparent that he was trying to talk to her again. She sniffed and turned a page in her book, not paying him any attention. "C'mon, Hermione,” he pleaded. “Let me at least sit up there. My bum's asleep."

Hermione sniffed again, louder this time, and turned another page. She wasn't even reading anymore. Her arm was starting to go numb from hanging off the edge of the bed for so long. She was sure he felt the same, but her anger was keeping her sympathy at bay just now.

When she felt him tugging on her arm, Hermione finally looked down at him. He was getting up off the floor, dusting off the back of his jeans with his free hand. He jerked on her arm, pulling her up off the bed.

"I'm tired of sitting on the floor," he said forcefully. "Look, we can't just sit in silence just because you're mad at me for saying something stupid."

"I know. If I stopped talking to you every time you said something stupid, I'd never talk to you ever again." Hermione said coldly. It was probably not the best thing to have said at the moment, as he turned an angry red and yanked her off her feet, throwing himself onto Ginny's bed and leaving Hermione on the floor.

It was another hour until he would even look at her. Hermione had tried fruitlessly to apologize for saying those things. She'd tried to say she didn't mean it, she was only angry with him, but he ignored her. Her arm was starting to hurt from lack of circulation, and she shook it, shaking Ron's arm in the process.

"What is it?" he asked sharply.

"Sorry,” Hermione replied. “My arm just hurts, is all."

Hermione was tired of the silence. It took an enormous effort when he was looking at her like that, but finally she said, "And I really am sorry about what I said."

He sniffed, and she was sure if he'd had a book, he would have turned a page in it.

Getting up off the floor, she shoved his long legs aside and sat cross-legged facing him on Ginny's bed. She moved their joined hands to lie on her knee. 'I have to be the one to say it, don't I?'

"Listen, Ron," she began. "I'm sorry for what I said, and I know you're sorry, too, even if you won't say the words. You're one of my best friends. You know that. If I never spoke to you, I couldn't stand it. I couldn't wait to come back here again this summer, you know? And then everything you said and did in the last few days just seemed to get on my nerves, and I don't know why. I can't not talk to you. Can't we go back to being friends who yelled and screamed and then it was over and we were back to normal?" she pleaded, shaking his arm gently.

He still wasn't looking at her, but he seemed to deflate. Softly, he mumbled into his chest, "You know I can't stay mad at you, Hermione. You're my best friend, too." He looked up and into her eyes. "I'm sorry for what I said. You know, about --"

"I know," she cut him off, not needing for him to make the mistake of reminding her what he'd essentially called her. Gently, he tugged on their joined hands, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Do you think we could go play chess in my room?" he said shyly, his eyes dropping to look at his lap.

Hermione felt herself smile and nodded. "Sure," she answered. They got up and walked side-by-side down the hall to his room.

*************************************************

They'd played three games before his mum and Ginny arrived home. Though he won the first two games, he'd allowed her to win the last one, quite triumphantly, if he said so. When he told her she must be getting better, she looked as if she knew he was lying, but wasn't about to call him on it.

"C'mon, let's go see if Mum can break this charm," Ron said as he tugged on her hand and pulled her to her feet. She wiggled her fingers in his. 'Wait,' he thought. He tried loosening his grip, and found that he could. The charm had worn off. 'When did that happen?'

Her hand gripped his again.

He grinned.

She kissed him on the cheek.

He grinned wider.

He decided he'd like to be stuck to Hermione more often.