A/n: A fluffy, birthday fic for the birthday girl Callieskye! Edited by a dear friend, idearlylovealaugh

The mouldy, old wood creaked as Ron made his way up the stairs as quietly as he could manage to the tiny bedroom Hermione was sharing with Ginny.

He had ensured his sister was busy with the twins who were once again busy finding ways to sneak into the dining room that doubled as the meeting room for the Order. He'd have been there too; after all, Harry was still stuck with those Muggle relatives of his while the Ministry hearing hung over his head. It made Ron sick in the pit of his stomach to imagine what was at risk, but he trusted Dumbledore - surely the Headmaster would not let Harry be expelled. But despite all his vehement and hopeful arguments, the truth was that he was as worried as her- only he didn't want her to know. She did all their share of worrying anyway, and he didn't want his anxiety to seep into whatever little hope she had left. He had even helped her with her research, browsing through enormous volumes of law books that, in his opinion, could easily substitute for a strong dose of Sleeping Drought.

He knocked softly on the wood and when there was no response, pushed open the door and called.

"Hermione?"

The girl sitting on the bed in the dimly lit room looked up with a snap, and Ron noticed she had a smudged ink-stain near her brow, perhaps due to flicking of those shorter curls at her temple absentmindedly.

"Ron," she responded in exhausted relief and a lazy smile materialised easily. He walked towards her, looking fondly at the pile of books surrounding her form. An inkpot was balanced precariously on top of three books and she was filling up a scroll, squeezing in words at the very end of the parchment.

Ron dragged the only and woefully old chair in the room, pulling it close to her and picking up one familiar volume as he sat down.

"Found anything new?" he asked, forcing his hands to flick the pages he knew he would never read if only to curb the urge to wipe the ink stain off her face.

She heaved a sigh, placed the quill in the pot and turned slightly to face him.

"A fair amount of similar cases where the judgement went in favour of the accused. I've noted them all with the dates and a synopsis of the case and the verdicts. Do you think we should give this to Dumbledore?"

Ron noticed the creases on her brow and the quiver in her voice, and it tugged painfully in his heart.

"We haven't seen much of him lately, have we?"

She nodded and seemed to scan the books, absentmindedly searching for some more material. "We can give it to Remus, or your Dad perhaps?" she asked hopefully.

He knew she was trying to keep the jitters away by drowning herself in research work, the only thing she could do while stuck in this woeful place.

"Guess we can do that," he replied, although he knew that Dumbledore probably wouldn't need it. "The twins and Ginny are trying to find out what they are discussing," he added in hope to get her out of the room. However, her face fell and she looked away quickly, busing herself with corking the inkpot and setting it aside.

"You don't want to know?" he guessed, hunching over ever so slightly to reach her. Merlin, when would he stop growing?! She looked pretty small when compared to him as it is.

"What's the point, Ron, not like we'll be allowed in the meetings anytime soon," she grumbled bitterly.

"But we can try," he insisted, hoping to cheer her up, "Fred said something about a new product that'll help. They are just days from perfecting it."

Hermione looked up, met his eyes and smiled- a tired, sad one that made him want to dash down the stairs, knock the door of the kitchen down, and force the Order to let her in. Didn't they know, not knowing was almost physically painful for her?! And didn't they know he'd do anything to make her happy?

Woah! Wait, What?!

He gazed bewildered at the girl who was not just one of his best friends but meant so much more in ways he didn't quite understand himself. She was looking down again, busy sorting her books, and he was mighty glad about it too, for it would be absolutely barmy if she found him gawking at her.

Something happened at that moment, a desperation of sorts which he'd later find to occur every time in the future when Hermione would get upset. But fifteen-year-old Ron was too preoccupied with the curly brunette in front of him to bother deciphering the depth of his emotions. Instead, he stood up promptly and extended his hand.

"That's it, C'mon, lemme show you somethin'."

If she was surprised by his boldness it would certainly be dwarfed by his when she took his hand, and almost on reflex, he pulled her up. His heart was doing some wonky movements inside his chest and he hurried them towards the door lest it got some more funny ideas.

"Ron, where are we going?" she asked, hurrying to keep up as he dashed up the rickety old staircase, hand still firmly grasping hers. He couldn't pause to ponder over how magical it felt to hold her this way, not now.

"Hold on, almost there," he replied, without breaking steps. If he stopped now, he would surely do something absolutely mental(like pulling her into his arms or something crazier) and he had to avoid that scenario at all cost. He was way too young to die.

He paused only when he reached the tiny attic and pushed open the door. Hermione, who was holding the stitches on her side and panting, gasped.

"Wha-"

"C'mon. Not as bad as it looks, I swear,"

She looked up at him in contemplation and nodded once. "Well, what can this room have that we haven't seen enough of already?" she mused and followed him inside.

He chuckled, "Not spiders, I assure you- but this…"

With practiced ease, he grabbed the rope hanging from the ceiling and pulled- a section of the slanted roof opened up just like he knew it would, and the floor extended to form a tiny balcony overlooking the park in the distance, complete with a wrought iron railing and the glittering sky adding a different kind of magic to the backdrop.

He watched as Hermione let out a soft gasp and then walked into the open space, taking in the view. Once again, his heart did some sort of a weird jiggle, but he had to admit, this time it was quite pleasurable a sensation.

He watched as Hermione held onto the railing, soaking in the freshness of the open air while her curls danced in the cool night breeze. He now knew it was an utter waste of time pretending otherwise. He fancied this girl. Oh, fuck, alright, he was bloody insane about her. 'Fancying' could never describe his feelings enough. Two restless weeks alone at the Burrow before she arrived was all the proof he needed. At first, he had tried to convince himself that he missed the adventures they had together, or perhaps by some weird twist of fate, he'd got habituated to her nagging. He even tried to sway his brain into thinking that he only missed her bickering. And then he was sure he was just worried about her safety. But even a bigger moron than he would have eventually figured out what was common in all his arguments- her.

"Ron, how did you find this place?" she beamed, and he could feel his ears redden at the sight. The chill in the air had added pink to her cheeks, and that smile- Sweet Merlin! He was doomed to die of some painful curse of her own invention once she realised the things she was making him feel.

He looked away, pretending to watch the light-illuminated neighbourhood. "Just chanced upon this place before you arrived. Was trying to escape Mum's chores."

He glanced at her and noticed her bite her lower lip. Looking away quickly, he grabbed the rails harder than before. But then her hand was so close to his…

The first time he had found this place, his thoughts had created an image very similar to this- Hermione, the night sky and him- all by themselves. Ron didn't think he had it in him to bring her here though. It would need far more courage than he possessed.

All his actions tonight were purely instinctive. He knew he fancied her, but there was a strange kind of twist in his heart whenever she got upset and he wasn't quite sure if it came as a part of the package of fancying someone? But then, she wasn't just his crush but also his best friend. And while he could do nothing for Harry who was possibly going bonkers with those lunatic muggle relatives of his, Ron could at least try to help Hermione relax.

"Do you think they can see us?" she asked all of a sudden, scooting closer and pointing at some muggles down in the street.

"Don't think so, this is an extension of the house which is invisible," he replied, forcing himself to ignore the tingling in his arm that was practically touching the side of her arm.

She sighed softly, scooting a tiny bit more to close the gap between them, resting her head on his arm. "Harry will be okay, right, Ron?"

"Of course, we've got Dumbledore," he replied fiercely.

How long would he be able to hide his feelings under layers of bickering and arguments? That was supposed to be his backup plan; no one would notice the change in him since he seemed to be an expert at making her cry anyway. The thought made him queasy.

No, no more making her cry. Bickering would have to do. But that was for another day when the lioness in her would bite back at him with equal vigour. For now, all he needed was her to relax.

"Thank you, Ron. I needed this," she whispered, and he grabbed the railing harder. His hand seemed to be trying its best to wrap around her shoulder.

"Wanna go downstairs?" he asked. This had to be about what she needed and not what he wanted.

"Let's stay a little longer, please?"

"Alright," he replied and she looked up at him and beamed before looking away. He smiled and relaxed, and Hermione seemed to snuggle closer.

Perhaps someday in the distant future, he'd allow himself wrap that arm around her and pull her into him. Someday, it would be alright and not so selfish to dream. Maybe, by some miracle, Hermione wouldn't curse him for having these feelings, maybe… The list of his wishes that involved her seemed to be unending.

But tonight, he had made her smile. That was enough for him for now.

A/n thanks for reading! A review will be highly appreciated.