The Burrow was, unexpectedly, the last place Hermione wanted to be right now. The early summer heat was cloying and close, even after she threw wide every window she encountered. The formal graduation robes she was still decked in from yesterday weren't helping at all. In fact, she was pretty sure she had sweat patches, and she knew there was a waterfall to rival Niagara running down her back.

She dumped her suitcases with a sigh and flopped on top of her bed. (Actually it wasn't her bed, per se, but Charlie wasn't going to be using it any time soon) and realised that this summer was going to be the longest she'd ever endured. Her spontaneous gap year when she should have been studying NEWTs was a bit of a pain in the neck, but you know, peace was restored and all that. And because of the downfall of old snake face, she was one of the chosen few 'eighth years' to be offered a place to retake the courses. Neville stayed, and so did her (now close) friend Draco, but Harry and Ron decided to go straight into Auror training after a plea from Shacklebolt, much to Hermione's displeasure.

And that brought her back around to the train of thought she was trying to avoid.

Ronald.

She let out a groan and blew one of her sticky curls off her face. Ron was going to be a problem. She hid her face under her hands. He had declared his feelings for Hermione during the Battle of Hogwarts and what followed had been, in a word, awkward. The summer following the battle had them circling around each other, she unsure whether the words spoken in the heat of battle still rang true— and if she wanted them to ring true— and him unsure whether he could ask her for a look at her knickers yet. Even though Ronald Bilius Weasley was a war hero, he was still a teenage boy. (And the whole war thing had seriously inhibited his progress with girls.)

And so a summer passed and nothing was resolved. The two orbited but never communicated and they went their separate ways just friends. Again. And now he was a newly-qualified Auror, and she a newly-qualified, um, something (she had never figured out a career path. Mostly due to a certain dark wizard trying to kill her and her friends every year, but she didn't like to dwell on that) and they were both back in the Burrow. As adults. With lives. And responsibilities. And in that time she realised she didn't fancy Ron a minuscule bit. She just liked red hair on blokes, and he happened to be around in their hermit period. He reminded her of a favourite teddy bear, well loved, and the relationship old and comfortable, but there was no passion, or fire. Or that breathlessness the heroines in her Mills & Boon books seemed to experience when they were in the presence of their beloved. Not that she would admit she owned any Mills & Boon.

Ron had come to her graduation ceremony yesterday evening (although probably mostly to support Ginny) but he had cornered her after the hat toss and just before she got sloshed with Draco on the cheap fizzy wine. He said things like "I've always loved you" and "I've been waiting until you finished school but now we can be together forever!" She let out a quiet yelp when he mentioned marriage, and excused herself to go to the toilet, saying that "everything is a bit overwhelming today Ron, can we talk about this later? Focus on Ginny, she's your little sister. And she got a better mark in Potions than me." And under her breath; "the little bitch". Then she bumped into Draco who was trying to hide eight bottles of Prosecco underneath his graduation robes. The rest, as they say, is history. Or an all-night bender with Flitwick; whichever you prefer.

A knock came at the open bedroom door, and a jet-black head poked around.

"Hermione? Are you in-" a squint. "Are those your robes from yesterday?" Hermione removed her hands from her face.

"Maybe." She grinned. "It's nice to see you completely unattached to Ginny today!" Harry turned an interesting magenta colour, and scratched at the back of his head.

"Well I hadn't seen her for ages. And I was a little drunk. Malfoy kept offering me this nasty wine." He entered the room fully and shoved her legs off the end of the bed, making her sit up.

"I was reaching the limit of how much tongue I was privy to in one day, Harry. Maybe work on keeping it in either mouth next time." She patted him on the shoulder. Harry deepened to violet.

"I was drunk!"

Hermione groaned and hid her face in her hands once more.

"Please, for the love of Merlin, don't talk to me about drunk." Harry nudged her shoulder with his elbow and managed an almost cartoonish eyebrow waggle.

"Anything… interesting happen yesterday my dear straight-laced friend Hermione? Anything AT ALL? Anything including a red-haired friend of ours? Anything including a freckled, red-haired friend-"

"No, Harry. I escaped the wrath of Ron, if that's what you're poorly hinting at. And I think the accuracy of 'straight-laced' went out of the window a couple of years ago."

Harry did the 'fair enough' nod.

"Well considering the way you were dancing with Flitwick last night I suppose you told Ron you didn't want a relationship."

Silence.

"Hermione?" Harry lifted her up so her face was out of her hands. He raised an eyebrow. "You did tell him that, didn't you?" She winced. "Hermione! You need to tell the poor sod!"

She groaned.

"I know! I just-urgh!" She buried her face in the pillow and let out a muffled string of curse words. Feeling better, she sat up again and faced her friend. "He reminds me of an overly excitable puppy and I don't want to kick him." she pouted. Harry attempted to tuck some of her hair behind her left ear, but due to the stubbornness of her curls, he settled for stroking it.

"I know, Mines, but you have to be honest with the bloke. You can't get his hopes up."

She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I really hope Lavender is coming to this graduation party thing tonight because then I can redirect him and soften the blow." She sighed, "well, I hope it will soften the blow."

Harry shrugged.

"It should, she's been pining after him since fifth year, and she's not exactly known for her chastity."

Hermione chuckled.

"Bet you four sickles that they're going to shag at the party." Harry grinned, and stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"You're on."

Showered and having taken a much needed pepper-up potion, Hermione shakily ventured down into the kitchen of the Burrow, like a newborn lamb in cutoff shorts.

The level of humidity grew exponentially worse the closer she got to the kitchen and her hair was beginning to protest. Grimacing, she cast a cooling charm on herself and revelled in the momentary relief, wiping sweat from literally everywhere, and un-sticking her mane from her back., tying it up in a very unruly topknot. She knew the closer she got to the kitchen, and food, the higher the likelihood of Ronald appearing. And the higher the likelihood of Ronald, the earlier she could get the 'letting him down gently' part, over.

She stepped into the kitchen the exact second the cooling charm wore off. And suddenly, she was hit by a wall of sweat, heat, delightful food aroma, and a Weasley.

"Hermione my dear, looking radiant as always," Fred said as he glided past, eyes fixed on unattended cake.

She chuckled and fanned herself. "Why Mister Weasley, I thank you for your sarcasm."

Fred sent her a roguish wink over his rather large slice of Victoria sponge.

"You're welcome. Honestly, it's good to see you again, Hermione. I was beginning to worry about the level of conversation round here, as I'm stuck with these idiots all the time." He sent her another wink and managed to fit the whole slice into his mouth at once. Hermione wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disgusted. "It was beginning to lower my IQ score" he said, through a mouthful of cake.

"Remind me again why we put up with you, Fred?" Molly Weasley asked from behind him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. She was holding a wooden spoon. Hermione knew this was a dangerous situation for Fred. Molly had a weapon.

Fred giggled nervously.

"Because you love me, and I'm your favourite son?"

Molly's eyebrow only moved higher up her forehead.

"And I lost a bet with Lee so he gets my room in the flat and now I'm homeless if I didn't live here?" Fred raised his eyebrows. Hermione looked on bemusedly.

"Well, you could move out if we idiots bother you so much." That tone of voice meant Fred was going to die.

Fred dropped to his knees. And begged. Bugger the cake.

"Please do not forsake me, Mother! I was merely referring to Percy and Ron, my brothers! Not you, for I am the fruit of your womb, your favourite twin! I am eternally grateful to you for giving me life! I just was complaining about the nonsensical things my other full time resident brothers say! Mother, please forgive my trespasses, as I forgive those who trespass against me!"

Molly Weasley looked less likely to use the spoon on Fred by the second.

"Lead me not into temptation, Mother! Deliver me from evil! Please!"

Molly now looked amused at Fred's antics. He began kissing her feet.

"Hermione dear, welcome back." Molly approached her for a hug and smiled her crinkly smile which always sent the warm fuzzies up Hermione. It was so motherly which seemed somewhat foreign after, well, everything she'd been through.

"Hi Molly. Thank you for agreeing to put me up all summer. Again. Are you sure you don't want any rent from me at all?"

Molly swatted her arm.

"Nonsense! You're family. I won't have you paying rent in this house!"

"I have to pay rent." A sulky voice drifted from the floor.

Molly swivelled around.

"Fred, dear, you run a business which is quickly expanding into pranking empire, ruining the lives of parents and teachers everywhere. Hermione here has just left school and is currently unemployed. Have a bit of sympathy, hmm?"

Fred nodded, albeit begrudgingly.

Molly put her hands on her hips and smiled kindly at him.

"Now why don't you go and show Hermione what you've done to the garden shed?"

Fred brightened at this prospect and jumped up, chattering at a million miles per hour.

"Oh Hermione, it's great, me and George have made it into a little workshop! I could do with your input on a new product actually, whizz-pops, they're supposed to have the person lick them then have whizz bangers go up their nose and explode out their ears, but all the samples I've tested have exploded instantaneously." Hermione's eyes widened, "Anyway, I've put a floo in there because I'm not at the flat all the time any more— curse you Lee— and there's workbenches and fire proofing and the ceiling is purple and the cactus sings Elvis Presley songs—"

"Fred, Fred, slow down. I was actually hoping to talk to Ron first, but I'll go straight down to the shed after, ok?" Hermione had discovered that the best way to address Fred was exactly the same as the best way to address Teddy Lupin. "Get everything ready for me, yeah? And then I'll see what I can do with those whizz-pops."

"Hermione?" A very Ron-sounding voice appeared from the doorway.

Molly, Fred and Hermione turned on their heels.

"Ah! Hello there, Ron, lovely to, uh, see you." Hermione inwardly cringed.

Fred made a vague gesture towards the kitchen door.

"I'll be, um, out there, doing that thing, see you Hermione." He ran to his shed. Hermione watched him gallop over the back garden. It was a very large back garden so Fred's departure was a bit conspicuous.

Molly cleared her throat.

"I'll be slaving over a hot stove if you need me." And she abandoned Hermione in the entryway to the kitchen, face to face with her almost-lover-kind-of-back-in-the-day.

Ron moved so he was directly in front of Hermione.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

She winced and looked up at him.

"Ron? I don't really know the best way to say this." Ron looked confused. Imagine a puppy wondering where the other puppy came from when it looked in a mirror and you'll get a very close representation of Ron's expression at this point in time.

Hermione let out a breath and began a staring contest with his right shoulder.

"Ron, I love you, but not in the same way you love me. I don't want a relationship beyond best friends." She grimaced. "I'm so sorry."

A pause. She was fearing the worst.

"That's alright Mines."

What?

What the hell?

"To be brutally honest, Mines, I haven't really wanted that either, since last year. And I didn't honour my own proposition."

Hermione raised an eyebrow up at him. She also didn't know he knew long words like 'proposition'.

"What?"

"Well," Ron shrugged, "I kinda maybe shagged a couple of other girls while you were in school." Hermione frowned. "No biggy, right? You didn't want me, I don't want you now I know the joys of sex-"

"No, no, no, wait a second here, Ronald Weasley." She pointed a finger in his face. "You're telling me that you asked me out and then while you're waiting for my answer, you bone some other chicks?"

Ron rubbed his chin.

"Well it was a very long time to wait…"

"You said you wanted to get married yesterday Ronald! You should have waited, if I meant that much to you!"

"Hermione, it's really not that big of a thing." He held his palms up. "We don't want to be together, I was just playing up to what I said last summer, yesterday."

"I cannot believe you Ronald Weasley." Hermione hissed. "You couldn't just wait for my answer, nooooooo, you had to go and sleep with other women!"

She squinted at him. "Get out of my sight."

"Hermione, I don't see why this makes any difference, your answer was no anyway!"

She curled her lip.

"If you don't leave this room, I will." She dramatically flung open the kitchen door, almost hitting Molly in the process (who, had gradually crept closer to the argument and had been eavesdropping while peeling potatoes.)

Hermione turned back.

"And don't eat the cake, it's for tonight."

The door slammed behind her.

Author's Note: hello! this is my first ever foray into fan fiction writing, so I hope you enjoy!

Please read and review, literally any kind of comment or interaction at all is welcomed. You can just put "bogies" in the comment section and I'll be like "YESSSSSSS"

Nice to meet you all :)