Fweee! I started this story awhile ago... I basically just wanted to write something where Ron was pissed at Hermione and she followed him onto the Quidditch pitch in the rain to try and talk to him and then... well, this is what I came up with. :D

Wallow in the fluff! commands


Disclaimer: Not mine. :P


Hermione watched silently, shivering, as the Gryffindor Quidditch team finished practice. It was a dark, gloomy day and rain had been steadily pouring from the sky since late the night before. Despite the fact that it was already May, it was bitterly cold out, and Hermione shivered, pulling her cloak more tightly around her and bringing the umbrella closer to her head. She squinted through the rain, tensing up as the team finally descended to the pitch. Several of the members noticed her and acknowledged her with a wave or a nod of the head. None said anything however; they were too numb and too exhausted. Harry was near the end of the group, and when he saw her, he smiled wearily at her and said, "Hey Hermione."

She smiled wanly. "Hi, Harry."

"All right?" he asked, looking at her in concern.

She nodded. "I just want to talk to Ron," she said softly.

His eyebrows lifted and he nodded slowly. "Ah… I'll see you in a bit then, he's just there." He gestured behind himself with a nod of his head and then headed off. Hermione inhaled slowly and then looked toward Ron. He was shuffling toward her, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed, and his broomstick clenched in his hand at his side. He didn't look up as he approached her and finally Hermione stepped forward.

"Ron?"

He stopped and looked at her, almost dazed. When he saw her, however, his expression darkened and he lowered his eyes to the pitch again. "Hermione," he greeted her shortly.

"Ron, please talk to me…"

"There's nothing to talk about," he said and began walking again.

"Ron, that's not true!" she cried and followed after him, grabbing his arm.

He yanked his arm upward, pulling away from her and glared at her.

"No. There isn't," he grit.

Hermione stopped moving and she recoiled, hurt. Then a moment later she rushed forward again, grabbing him by the sleeve. "Don't you treat me like that Ron Weasley! I know there's something wrong! You've been acting strange ever since you got that letter from your mother at breakfast! I want to help Ron!" she said, tugging hard on his arm and making him stagger backwards.

A low growl rumbled from within Ron's throat and Hermione hesitated, nearly backing away. His head turned slowly and he glared furiously at her. "Let me go Hermione," he said quietly.

She bit her lip and steeled herself. "No."

"Hermione…"

"No."

"Dammit, Hermione, leave me alone!" he yelled, yanking his arm from her grasp and starting to stalk towards the locker rooms.

"No Ron! I'm not going to leave you! You have to tell someone what's going on!"

"There's nothing going on! Leave me alone!"

"Ron, I know you better than that! You can't lie to me!"

"I'm going in the locker room, you can't follow me."

However, Hermione ignored him and followed him straight into the locker room. He whirled around incredulously. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm getting an answer!"

"Get out of here! What if someone sees you?" he hissed.

"Let them see," she said and sat down on a bench primly crossing her arms and legs.

Ron sneered at her. "Fine." He muttered a spell to open his locker and then began shucking off his pads and throwing them in. When they had been removed, he slipped off his robes, dropped them to the floor and grabbed his shirt by the hem and began pulling it up over his head.

Hermione squeaked, her face flushing, and she cried, "Ron! What are you doing!"

He turned to look at her, dropping the wet shirt on the floor, his ears bright red, but his expression serious. "I'm changing. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"But—I—"

"If you have a problem with me changing in the boys' locker room, get out." He began shedding his pants and Hermione quickly turned around. Ron smirked, a wicked twinkle glinting in his eyes.

Hermione grimaced and then decided if Ron was comfortable changing in front of her, then she didn't need to wait. "So what was in the letter?"

Ron froze in the middle of drying his hair. Damn. She hadn't forgotten. "It's none of your business Hermione."

"Ron…" Hermione said softly. "I want to help. What happened? Is your family okay?"

Ron began slowly drying his hair again. "It's none of your business…" he repeated quietly.

Hermione turned, oblivious to the fact that Ron's only article of clothing was his bright orange boxers smattered with cannonballs. "What happened Ron? Was it your mum or dad?"

"No…" He balled up the towel in his hands, his head bowed and his shoulders hunched. "They're fine."

"The twins?"

"No."

"Percy?"

"No."

"Charlie?"

Ron's hands tightened around the towel, but he didn't reply. Hermione put a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Ron, no… What happened?"

He swallowed, gripping the towel even more tightly in his hands. "N—Nothing. He's fine—" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Ron, please," Hermione pleaded, gently pulling at the crook of his arm, until he had seated himself beside her. He folded into himself, still tightly clutching the towel in his hands. Hermione scooted closer to him and put an arm around his back. "He's not—"

"No." Ron said quickly. He looked at her and Hermione realized his eyes were red and strangely glassy.

"Then what's wrong? Please tell me Ron."

Ron was quiet, and for a moment, Hermione thought he wouldn't say any more, but then he whispered, "He's in the critical care section of St. Mungo's. The dragons—" His voice cracked and he paused, swallowing. Hermione squeezed his shoulders, offering her support. "The dragons got out of control—one of the Chinese Fireballs got its chains loose and it went crazy. They were trying to get it back under control and Charlie—Charlie got hit by its tail—He slammed into the fence—Mum said he looks terrible. The dragon busted most of his ribs and split the back of his head open. He lost a ton of blood and even broke his shoulder blade and collar-bone… I think she said he punctured a lung too…" He fell silent, putting his head in his hands. "He almost died…"

"Oh Ron," Hermione said softly, her heart aching for him. She pulled him closer, bringing his head to her shoulder and wrapping her arms around him. For a moment he simply sat limply in her embrace but then his shoulders began to shake and his arms crept around her, his hands tightening on the fabric of her robes. "It's okay," Hermione whispered in his ear, gently stroking the damp hair near his temple. "It's okay…"

They sat together, entwined like that for a long time. It was only when Ron started shivering that Hermione pulled back and looked into his face. "You should get dressed or you'll catch your death."

Ron grimaced, trying to discreetly wipe the last shining traces from his face with his hand. "Yeah. Er…" he paused, staring at the floor before finally saying with some difficulty. "Th…thanks, Hermione… I feel better." His ears colored slowly.

Hermione smiled gently at him. "Good. Don't worry, I'm sure Charlie will be okay. Now get dressed."

Ron nodded and cracked the first small smile of the day for him. "Don't be so bossy, Hermione."

She made a face, already puffing up in indignation, but when Ron's smile grew and he laughed, she simply stared at him and then smiled sheepishly. "Honestly, Ron," she grumbled. "Why do you provoke me like that?"

Ron looked at her and grinned, pulling his shirt on. Then he shrugged. "You look pretty when you're angry." Almost instantly, his face turned red and he wheeled around, searching hastily for his pants.

Hermione gaped at his back, stunned. That was something she had certainly never expected him to say. But it did make her feel warm inside… She smiled. "Are you finished yet?" she asked and Ron turned hesitantly, his face still pink.

"Er…yeah," he muttered, stuffing his things into his locker and shutting it.

"Come on then. Let's go to dinner. I'm sure you're starved." She held out her hand.

Ron stared at it suspiciously for a minute. "Yeah…" he said slowly, and then extended his hand towards her. Hermione smiled brightly and took it.

"Thank you, by the way," she said as they headed back into the castle, huddled beneath the umbrella she had brought with her.

Ron looked at her and frowned. "For what?"

She blushed shyly, "For saying I looked pretty."

Ron's face burned again and he said, embarrassed, "Yeah, well, I—"Hermione squeezed his hand and he fell silent. A moment later he said awkwardly, "You're welcome."

Hermione smiled warmly at him and they stepped into the castle. Ron couldn't tell if the wave of warmth he felt was because of Hermione's smile or the castle, but he smiled back, slowly.

"You know," Hermione said, shaking out the closed umbrella. "When you looked at me after…" She waved back towards the locker room. "…that. I couldn't help thinking how nice your eyes look when you cry."

Ron's face immediately went scarlet and he gaped after her, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly in astonishment, as she started down the hall again.

"Come on Ron! We'll be late!" she called and he could hear the amusement in her voice. Flustered, he immediately turned to something more familiar.

"Wait a second! HERMIONE! What the hell was that!" If you tell anyone--!"

He continued blustering after her all the way to the Great hall, turning several heads. Meanwhile, Harry smiled when he saw the pair enter. Things were back to normal. Way to go Hermione.