A Time to Love

Chapter Three. Getting the Point

"We perceive when love begins and when it declines by our embarrassment when alone together."

_La Bruyere

Surprise? Yeah, Ron Weasley was surprised, that's for sure. More than surprised. Flabbergasted, if that was even the right word for it. All he came up here to do was change into his pyjamas and the next thing he knew, Hermione landed in his room - his room! - holding a spoon and in an evening gown, no less. Could things get any wackier?

"What are you doing here? How did you get here?"

Hermione looked a little flustered. Little did Ron know, things were, indeed, about to get wackier.

"Well, I kind of...made a portkey to get here," she said weakly, as if she was still trying to believe it herself.

Well, that explained the spoon, a "But... you have to have permission from the Ministry to use one, and they wouldn't let you do it. You're not even legal yet!"

"I know, I know! But I just had to get away, Ron. I had to!" She was getting hysterical and was now close to tears. Ron took a step forward, confused by the whole situation and not sure what to do.

"Were you in trouble?" he asked, preparing himself for the worst. Hermione didn't break the rules, and especially not big ones, unless it was necessary. Did Death Eaters attack her house and this was the only way she could think of to communicate with the Wizarding World? Maybe she panicked, picked up the first thing she saw, and turned it into a portkey.

Or maybe it was something worse, if that was even possible. Ron paled at all the different possibilities, each prospect worse than the one before.

"Sort of," she said, her lip trembling. A tear spilled onto her face. It was obvious that she had been crying be because her eyes were bloodshot. "Well, not that kind of trouble, but still trouble."

"I don't get it. If you weren't in real trouble, then why did you take such drastic actions to get here? Couldn't you just have sent an owl and maybe we could've gotten you tomorrow?"

Even in her state of distress, she still managed sarcasm. "And where was I supposed to get an owl from, my genie in a bottle? I don't have an owl, you do! And even if I did, it would've been too late!"

Ron groaned in frustration. Hermione was speaking in cryptics and still hadn't gotten to the point yet. A hysterical Hermione wasn't the easiest one to deal with. She's actually making me look smart.

"Let's start from the beginning. Why are you here?"

"It's my parents! They're going to send me to summer camp!"

Though Ron didn't know exactly what "summer camp" was, it didn't sound like something that would instill fear. It sounded quite fun, actually.

"What's so bad about that?"

"They said that after that, I was going to have to go to regular school! A school in England that's closer to home. They said I didn't really need to know magic anyway and that my new life was too dangerous. They don't understand! I can't go to regular school!" Hermione was sobbing full on now. Ron didn't know what to do.

Ron didn't actually know her parents, but he thought they were pretty nice people, from the little he'd seen of them. He never would've thought that her parents would've tried to stop her from attending Hogwarts. Ron conot and would not imagine life at Hogwarts without Hermione.

"Don't worry now, Hermione. Mum and Dad will make sure you go to Hogwarts. We didn't let the Dursleys lock Harry in his room and keep him away from Hogwarts before and we won't let your parents lock you in some stuffy school, away from your friends."

"Do you - sniff - mean it, Ron? Because Mum and Dad will - sniff - be really, really mad. What if your parents can't stop them?"

"If they can't, then I will. And I mean that, Hermione, I really do. Besides, you made it this far, right?" He really did mean it. He didn't know the hows or the whys - he just knew that he would do whatever he could to protect Hermione.

Hermione had stopped crying now and was only sniffling. She looked at him for a moment before flinging her arms around him. "You're a true friend, Ron," she muttered into his shoulder.

It was quite an odd sensation, really, having your shoulder being cried on, and a bare shoulder at that. It wasn't bad - just odd. Ron didn't quite know what else to say to her. Hopefully he had said enough already.

And he had. Though Hermione would never tell him, she really did like when he was so protective over her. Even when he was threatening Malfoy and got in trouble over it, it was still nice to know he cared, and Hermione liked the feeling of being protected, especially by Ron.

There was a knock on the door. "Can I come in, Ron? I need to borrow some ink."

In that moment, Hermione realised situation she was in. If Ginny were to open the door, she would see Hermione in an evening dress, hanging onto Ron, who was shirtless. And that would, of course, raise questions of what she was doing here in the first place. No, that just wouldn't do. She had to hide, and fast.

She untangled herself from Ron and wildly looked around the room. The only places were under the bed and the wardrobe. Under the bed looked like a tight squeeze and she was likely to get stuck. She opted for the wardrobe.

"Just a moment, Ginny," he called. "I'm changing."

"All right."

She ran over to the wardrobe and threw it open. It was a mound of clothes and shoes with a bunch of hangers hanging up, but with only one shirt that was actually hung up. Hermione gazed at it in horror.

"Beggars can't be choosers," Ron muttered behind her and shoved her unceremoniously inside. The wardrobe went dark as he closed the door behind her.

There was a bit of rustling around before he finally opened the door to let Ginny in.

"Thanks, Ron," she said. Hermione heard her sniff. "It smells...pretty in here. What were you doing?"

Hermione smacked her hand against her forehead. She rarely ever used perfume, but when she did, she used her mother's favourite, Anais. It was a pretty smell that pleasantly clung to the air.

Hermione was amused at the prospect of Ron trying to get out of this one.

"I don't think it's Mum's perfume. I've already used all of hers," Ginny said curiously.

"Uh - remember the perfume I got for Hermione at Christmas?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Well... I had gotten another one because I couldn't decide which one I liked better for her. I ended up giving her the other and I kept this one."

"Let me have it, then!"

"No!" Ron said quickly. Hermione had to put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud.

"Why not? You can't give her perfume two years in a row."

"I can't?" Hermione could just picture Ron's bewildered face through the door. It made controlling her laughter just that much harder. When it came to girls, Ron was completely clueless.

Ginny gave an exasperated sigh. "No Ron, you can't. It's just not done."

"I'll just give it to Mum, then."

Ginny sighed again. "Fine, whatever. Just give me the ink."

Hermione heard Ron walk over to what she thought was his still unpacked trunk. Finally, Ginny was almost out the door, but she heard her stop.

"Ron?"

"What now?"

"What made you decide to give Hermione perfume, anyway?"

Hermione stilled. She had been wondering the exact same thing since last Christmas.

"I guess because... I dunno. I guess I thought she deserved something special," he said very quickly.

There was a silence. "What?" he said.

"I'm proud of you, Ron. You actually used that thick head of yours for something useful."

"Hey!" Ron said in indignation.

Ginny smirked as if she had just remembered something good. "In fact, I think you finally got the point." She laughed as she closed the door and Ron just stood there, scratching his head. What did she mean by that?

Got the point... What point? And then Ron remembered. The Yule Ball. Ron had accused Hermione of not getting the point. And now Ginny had said that he had finally gotten the point. But he was still as confused as ever. What did giving perfume to Hermione for Christmas have to do with the point? Better yet, what was the point?

In the dark wardrobe, Hermione was wondering the same thing. They both shook their heads in confusion, though neither even knew why exactly they were confused.

Hermione stepped out of the wardrobe and hesitantly gave Ron a questioning look. Ron just shrugged in response as if to say, if you don't know then I don't know.

Hermione silently noted that he now had a shirt on to go with his boxers. She was disappointed - she was actually disappointed! She gave her head a little shake for being so perverse.

Ron yawned. "I'm tired, and it's been a long day for you, too. What do you say we get some sleep?"

"Yes, that's a good_" she started to say but stopped. She hadn't thought of sleeping arrangements. They surely couldn't sleep in the same bed together. No, that was quite unthinkable. There was nothing else for it - she would have to sleep in the wardrobe. It wasn't a comfortable proposition, but it was the only one she had.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Do you have any extra blankets and pillows?"

"No, why?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why do you think? I don't exactly fancy sleeping on a cold hard floor."

"The floor?"

"Yes, Ron. It's the thing we're standing on."

He ignored this. "Don't be daft - you can't sleep on the floor," he said as if she had said she would sleep with aof hungry wolves.

"Where then, do you propose, should I sleep?"

"In the bed, of course!"

"Yes, I'm sure your mum won't mind, will she?" she said sarcastically.

"She doesn't have to know. You'll just wake me up when you hear her. You're a light enough sleeper."

That was true. When Ron and Hermione had stayed in the Hospital Wing, she awoke at even the littlest of noises. Though had nerved had been severely frazzled, she was still a naturally light sleeper, whereas Ron slept like a rock. He had to be physically shaken for him to be awoken. On nights like those in the Hospital Wing, she had been thoroughly jealous of him. What she would've done for a full night's rest.

Hermione lifted her chin and said in a condescending voice, "Even still, it isn't proper."

"Oh, come on Mione! It's just us! Besides, it's not proper for you to have to sleep on the floor. And I really don't want to have to sleep there, though I will if you force me to," he said chivalrously.

"Rubbish! I haven't forced you to do anything a day in your life!"

Ron raised his eyebrows so high they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. "You couldn't possibly say that and actually mean it. What about all those times you forced Harry and me to do our homework?"

"I didn't force you to do anything! I just strongly suggested it. You didn't have to do it. You could've just failed it would have been your own fault. As your friend, I was merely trying to help you. Clearly I shouldn't have bothered," she said haughtily.

"I would've done it, I just didn't need you hounding me to do it. I only did it to stop your nagging. And it worked, as you knew it would."

Caught! Hermione knew had known that the only way to get them to do their homework was to bother them about it until they broke down and did it. To her, the ends had justified the means. And now it obviously wouldn't work as easily for him now. Still, Hermione wouldn't make herself look any more of a fool than she already had.

"Insufferable git," she said, as it was the first thing that came to her mind.

"I'm just being honest."

They stared at each other. No matter what, she would not be the first one to look away. Ron looked just as stubborn in the matter.

In the end, it was both of them looked away because they heard a loud thump somewhere close by and Hermione jumped. They turned back to each other, their quarrel immediately forgotten. Ron shushed her and walked quietly to the door. He listened until he heard footsteps pass his door and down steps.

"That was close," they both said at the same time. They laughed and it cut through any remaining tension.

"Listen," Ron said. "Let's just both go to bed - and I mean the bed - and tomorrow I'll go to the attic and get the cot that Harry usually sleeps on when he's here. In the morning, we'll be able to figure things out more clearly. And don't argue with me, Hermione," he said when Hermione opened her mouth to protest.

She was struggling with an internal battle. On the one hand, she could sleep with Ron is bed. If somebody found her there, she'd never live it down. And sleeping with Ron would be very awkward. Too awkward.

On the other hand, there was the cold, hard floor. Somebody could still come in and she'd be in trouble, though her on the floor would soften the blow. But then she wouldn't feel awkward...

She weighed her options and finally decided on the bed. The floor just looked too uninviting.

"Fine, I'll sleep on the bed," she said long-sufferingly.

Ron flashed a lopsided grin. "Knew you'd see reason eventually." She just scowled at him.

Ron turned the lights out and climbed into bed. Hermione just stayed where she was. There was a moment of silence.

"Ron! Do you expect me to sleep in this?" she said and motioned to her dress, even though he couldn't see it in the dark.

"In what?"

"I'm still in my dress, you git!"

"Why didn't you say anything? I can't think of everything, you know."

"That much is obvious," she muttered darkly under her voice.

Ron got out of bed and walked over to his bureau. He pulled out the first shirt he felt and unfolded it. Satisfied with its length, he threw it in Hermione's direction and it landed at her feet.

"Thanks ever so much, Ron," she said sarcastically.

Either he missed the sarcasm of her words, or he just plain ignored it. "Don't mention it," he said as he got back into bed.

Hermione picked up the shirt and immediately felt self-conscious. Although the room was dark, she still felt nervous changing in his presence. She backed far into a corner and when through the motions of changing as quickly as she could. She tugged on the shirt but it still only came down to her knees. She was never more grateful for the night in her life.

She folded her dress and placed it, along with her wand and the spoon, on Ron'sk. She took a bracing breath and climbed into bed.

"See, it's not so bad, is it?" Ron asked.

"Of course not. I never said it would be."

"But you_."

She cut him off. "Good night, Ron."

He turned on his side so that he was now facing her. His proximity was intoxicating. And he had a smell about him that was distinctly Ron. She savoured it.

"Good night then," he said in a huff.

She was still aware to how close he was to her. So close that she could feel his breath on her and it was far from unpleasant, which was weird in itself.

Hermione's heart was beating so hard she was sure he could hear it.

Ron's heart was beating so hard he was sure she could hear it.

Her foot accidentally brushed against his foot and it sent shivers up and down his spine. It was a weird contrast to the heat he felt gathering inside himself. Funny that he hadn't felt this way before Hermione climbed into his bed.

Hermione. In. His. Bed. The internal heat intensified and all his blood seemed to gather in one place. He choked back a groan as he realised what was happening. He squeezed his legs together so that Hermione wouldn't notice. That would be too embarrassing. took a few calming breaths as he slowly regained his composure.

In all his sixteen years, this had only happened on a couple of occasions, and only after he had been thinking of Hermione. Only Hermione could excite these feelings in him. Only Hermione... He finally took in what all of this meant.

Ron had finally, indeed, gotten the point.