A/N: I have been wrestling with this plot bunny for quite a while. I wrote the first couple of paragraphs before I wrote Reconciling Accounts, but then I got caught up in that and put it aside. This week I have worked on it, expecting it to be a drabble or a short one shot…well, it grew! As callieskye said "the muse wants what the muse wants." So here it is in its 3100 word glory. Rated M for artificial lemons and Ron's mouth.

Despite what he had said to Lavender, Ron had not been the least bit tired when he came up to bed. It had been ridiculously early when he had, rather unconvincingly from the expression she wore, yawned dramatically and announced that he was turning in. The common room had been full, so he was mercifully able to slip up the stairs before she had much chance to protest.

He just wanted to be alone. The little voice inside his head argued, not entirely true is it? Well, if he were completely honest with himself…but what good did it do to admit what you wanted if you were never gonna get it. He learned that lesson a long time ago; it's always better to not want things than to be disappointed.

You're doing a brilliant job of that you wanker!

It was getting worse. During those first days his anger had been so fierce that he actually felt satisfaction at the revulsion he saw on Hermione's face when she would catch him and Lavender. It stoked the flames in his heart to see her so angry; he still had impure thoughts about the way she looked when she had set those canaries on him. The way her eyes had flashed, the way her hair stuck out wildly, she was so effing hot when she was mad! But those flames had all been doused by the tears she tried to hide after he had been a complete arse and mocked her in class. He hadn't even been angry when she announced she had given McLaggen the party invitation that should have been, hell, that had been, his. I deserved it, even that crack about "really good Qudditich players".

After seeing her walk out of the common room on that ape's arm, he thought that it couldn't possibly get any worse. Yet somehow it had all gone spectacularly downhill from there.

The weeks of being so close to her, but not being able to talk to her, of having her look right through him, were driving him mental. Every day he thought that today would be the day he would say something, do something to make her forgive him. But every night he would go to bed feeling like a coward. You could try to chuck your girlfriend, that might help. But would it? He wasn't so sure, and he didn't even know how to.

He didn't dislike Lavender, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings, but it was increasingly obvious that he didn't want to be her boyfriend. The snogging had been nice at first, but, he could not believe he would ever think such a thing, it had gotten boring really fast. He had hoped that she would feel the same way, or would take the hint as he turned her down more and more frequently, but that did not seem to be the case.

How could you miss someone so much that was right there? Although to be honest, he saw Hermione less and less. She was rarely in the common room and had somehow managed to rearrange the prefect patrol schedule so they were never on rounds at the same time. In the classes that they shared she was always the last in and the first out, and she would sit as far away from him as humanly possible and behind him so that to look at her would have been too risky. He still was able to catch a glimpse of her at mealtimes, but lately she was frequently absent from those too, a fact that worried him deeply. She needs to eat; can't let herself get sick like she did in third year when she was doing too much.

His heart clenched. He just wanted her to be okay, to be happy, to be his friend again. Even if he could never be with her the way he really wanted to, even if she snogged a thousand blokes, even if she married bloody Viktor Krum and had a dozen brilliant Qudditich super-star babies; he just needed to be in her life, somehow! He had to think of a way; maybe a long night's sleep would help him come up with an idea.

He shucked on his pajamas and crawled into his four poster. Barely even dark yet! He pulled the curtains and settled in, but sleep was nowhere to be found.

When you're 16, and you're a bloke, and you need to relax, and you have a room all to yourself the best remedy is usually just a few strokes away. Why not, beats revising my hopeless heap of a potions essay. Ron purposefully closed his eyes and let his hand snake its way into his pants. He wasn't in a particularly randy mood, so he decided to call on what had recently become his favorite scenario.

He is walking a deserted hall on prefect patrol. He turns a corner and runs straight into Hermione. They crash together, but she pulls away quickly when she recognizes him. Their eyes lock for just a moment before she turns and begins to walk very quickly away. He calls for her, but she begins to run. He will not let her get away. He catches her by the arm and pulls her into a deserted room, closing the door behind them. They are both breathing heavily, and she is glaring up at him with a fierce look in her eyes.

"What do you want?!" She spits the words at him ferociously.

His response is a growl, "You, only you."

She gasps as he pushes her against the wall and lowers his lips to hers. His kiss is passionate yet gentle; he prays silently and fervently that she will return it. His heart soars as she responds with maddening enthusiasm. He moves his hands into her hair and moans into her mouth as she wraps her arms around him clutching his body to her own. When he begins to trail kisses down her neck, she moans his name; it is the sexiest fucking thing he has ever heard. Soon he has her bum in his hands and she is wrapping her legs around his waist. They rip at each other's clothes as he pushes himself against her.

"Oh, Ron…I need you…please!"

Her hands are on his trouser buttons. He looks down to see her reaching inside his pants to grab his massive erection.

The idea of her hand wrapped around his cock, of her wanting him, is all it takes to send him brilliantly over the edge. Still panting, he casts a quick cleaning spell and settles in for what he hopes is a good night's sleep.

Ron sat up determinedly, pulled back his bed curtains and surveyed the room. It was dark out, and every one appeared to be in bed. He could make out the little whistling sound Neville made in his sleep and see Harry's glasses on the nightstand.

So much for a good night's sleep!

Deciding he could not spend another minute in his four-poster, Ron got as quietly out of bed as he could and grabbed an old jumper that was on top of his trunk. He figured that by now the common room would be deserted and he might be able to relax in front of the fire and clear his head.

When he reached the last step, he was surprised to see another Gryffindor bending over the sofa. He backed up into the shadows and watched, afraid at first that it might be Lavender lying in wait for him. As his eyes adjusted, he saw the telltale red hair of his sister. She was covering the sofa with a blanket; no! She was covering someone with a blanket!

Bloody Hell! If she is down here with Dean I am going to hex him so hard his grandkids will feel it!

Just as he was ready to reveal himself, Ginny stood upright and he got a clear view of who was lying down. It was Hermione. He felt a thousand things all at once.

He wanted to rush into the room and demand what was happening. Was Hermione sick?

He wanted to bolt up the stairs and pretend he had never seen her.

He wanted to go over to her and beg her forgiveness.

He wanted to grab her and shake her and ask her if she realized how mental she was making him.

Ginny rounded on him before he ever got to make his decision. She was headed toward him with a fire in her eyes that made him sorry he had left his wand upstairs.

"Don't even think about it, Ron!"

"Think about what?"

"Just leave her alone! You should be good enough at it by now, you've had enough practice!"

"Oi! I'm not the one doing the avoiding!"

"Yeah…I can't imagine why Hermione would want to give up her front row seats to the Lav and Won Won show."

"It's none of your bloody business."

The irony of the situation was not lost on him, and for a moment he braced himself for the inevitable argument about how he had thought it was his business when she was snogging Dean. He was confused when not only did Ginny not rip into him, but her eyes actually lost some of their anger.

"Shhhh! If you wake her, I swear to Merlin I will hex your bits off!"

"Why is she sleeping here? Why haven't we woken her up already? Gin…is she alright?!"

"Like you care."

"Dammit, Ginny! She's my best friend…well…she was…"

"Friend? Best friend? Really?! I wouldn't' treat Malfoy the way you've treated her! Fine, you wanna know what's going on? You wanna know why it is my business? I'll tell you, "big brother"! Hermione is my friend and I cannot stand to watch this anymore!"

She glanced behind her at the sleeping Hermione and turned back to her brother. The venom was fading from her voice as she watched his nervous glances over her shoulder.

"She's sleeping here because her bedroom has become hostile territory."

"Oh, please, that is not true!"

"What would you know? I won't go into details…that's not really my place, but I think that you can surely imagine."

"I am sure that I cannot!"

"Cut the crap, Ron, you are not that thick!"

"Hermione has never been the type to be intimidated before."

"And she's not now you Mountain Troll! Let me spell it out for you then. Imagine that you share a room with Victor Krum. Imagine that day after day you have to watch him cram his tongue down her throat. Imagine that every night you have to hear him go on and on about what great tits Hermione has, how amazing it feels when she puts her mouth on his…"

"Shut it, Ginny!"

"Or how he cannot wait to shag her as her birthday present."

"I said shut…wait…what?"

"You heard me."

"But I…we…I mean…I've never done anything like that with Lavender!"

"Well, according to her, you have."

"Ginny, you have to know me better than that."

"I thought I did, but all evidence points the other way."

"She told Hermione that?"

"Not face to face, but she makes damn sure that her conversations with Pavarti are overheard."

"Shit!"

Ron felt that he was going to be physically sick. No wonder Hermione hated him. It was even worse than he thought (and he already thought it was fucking terrible).

"Gin, you have to tell her…she'll believe you!"

"With your girlfriend pouncing on you every five minutes? I doubt it!"

"That's why she's never around anymore…"

"And they say Percy's the smart Weasley!"

"How have I fucked this up so bad?"

"Takes a special talent, I'd say."

"Wait…how is she sleeping through all this?

"I gave her a cup of Granny Prewett's special tea."

"What?! A WHOLE cup? She'll be lucky to wake up before spring!"

"Well she hasn't slept in days, and she wouldn't hear of going to see Pomfrey."

"Days? Ginny, is she alright? I was worried 'cause I haven't seen her eat in at least a week, but I…"

The look on Ginny's faced changed; her features were completely soft. The look in her eyes reminded him of their Mum when she would nurse the scrapes they tended to get when they were up to no good: comforting and loving, but with a touch of mirth.

"She's been better, that's for sure. She's gotten pretty good at glamour charms, but they wear off."

He stepped around his sister and looked closely at Hermione for the first time in weeks. Her hair was a mess; not in the wild way that he loved, just flat and lifeless. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her cheeks were sunken. As beautiful as he found her, he knew she looked terrible. Guilt gripped his heart, squeezing it tighter than a pair of hand me down trainers two sizes too small. How could he have been so stupid?!

"Ginny, you have to help her! She can't…she needs to eat…she needs-"

"To stop being as stubborn as you are? I swear, sometimes that girl is a Weasley!"

"What can I do? How do I fix this?"

"I don't really know, Ron…you need to talk to her, but honestly, I'm not sure she'd even listen to you now…with the ways things are."

"Shit!"

"Listen, do you want to be with Lavender?"

"Are you effing kidding me?! I've gone to bed before sunset every night this week just to avoid her!"

"Then why?"

"You know why."

"Pretend I'm slow; explain it to me."

He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. He had never talked to anyone about this before, and he wasn't sure he wanted to now. But maybe, he thought, if I can make Ginny understand, she can help me talk to Hermione.

"Dammit! Ok…she had Krum, Gin. Viktor Fucking Krum. She snogged him…she….he…how can I ever compete with that?! He has all the things I don't. Talent, money, fame. Even if she did feel like I do, I could never give her what he could. Hell, even Harry would be better for her than me. I have nothing they have. It would always be a comparison. That look she gets when she's disappointed…I couldn't stand to have her look at me like that…I mean, it's bad enough when it's just because I've mucked up an essay."

"Ron…you know I love you, right?"

"Yeah…course I do."

"That's fucked up."

"I know that too."

"You need to sort this out."

"I know, but like you said, I don't think she'll listen to me."

"No…I mean, you need to sort out yourself first. Until you do that, the other can't be, not really."

"I think that may be even harder."

"Ron, it's after midnight, so your birthday is officially tomorrow."

"Not expecting it to be a good one."

"Maybe I can change that. Here's my gift to you…remember when Hermione got all mental over Harry dating Cho?"

"What are you on about? Hermione never got upset about that, in fact it was almost like she was trying to help him."

"Exactly. And remember how she rushed to spend Christmas in Bulgaria last year because she found out Viktor's dad got hurt?"

"Huh? That was our Dad. She came to spend Christmas with us because"

"Because?"

"What are you trying to say? Hermione is just a good friend. She would do that for any one."

"What I am saying is this: she already made her choice, the only one that is comparing you to Krum or Harry is you, Ron. The only disappointed she's ever been in you is now."

Ron was gobsmacked. Everything she said made sense, but he still just couldn't believe it. And what if it were true? Then that really made him a monster. This was all his fault. He had hurt her, intentionally, without even fully understanding how or why. It seemed so obvious to him now, she had asked him to the party. She had tried to let him know.

Fuck!

But now, was it too late? How could she ever forgive him? How could he forgive himself? Surely whatever feelings she might have had were all gone now, he had seen to that. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, beg her to forgive him. But he knew he would not, not yet.

"None of this can be put right tonight. I think we all need some rest. You look a little rough around the edges too."

"Will she be alright down here alone?"

"I don't see why not. I will set alarm so I can come get her up before anyone stirs in the morning."

"Maybe I should stay, just in case. You can wake me first and I'll go up before she knows I was here."

"Well, I guess that would work. I brought down another blanket, it's beside the sofa if you need it."

"Thanks, Gin, for everything."

"You're welcome; just remember, that was your birthday gift…I'm not getting you anything else."

"Sounds fair."

In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, Ginny hugged her brother tightly before heading up to bed. Ron set up his watch in the armchair closest to the sofa. He doubted that he would sleep, but that was fine with him. He felt an odd sense of purpose, like he watching over her, protecting her. He leaned close to her sleeping form and took comfort in her closeness, in being able to look at her without fear.

"I know I've cocked things up 'Mione, but I promise I am gonna find a way to fix this. Even if you just want to be my friend, that would be enough, more than I deserve really."

He knew he was lying, about the "enough" part anyway. It would never be enough, but if that were his only choice, he would take it. As long as he could keep her from being hurt anymore. He hadn't the slightest idea how to start; maybe he could con Harry out of some of that Felix for real this time.

Maybe I could use my birthday wish…

That was Ron's last conscious thought before sleep claimed him. Even though the chair was entirely too small, and the fire was entirely too hot for his liking, he enjoyed the soundest sleep he had known in weeks.

Ginny couldn't help but smile when she came down to wake them the next morning. She sighed deeply, giving them both a knowing look.

She might not be a Weasley…yet.