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“Ronald, don’t you dare—I swear to Merlin!”
Ron was slightly crouched over, slowly creeping toward Hermione with his arms tucked in but his fingers flexed, a smirk plastered on his face. The tall Burrow grass tickled his shins as his bare toes sank into the damp earth with each careful step. “If you’d finally just get in the damn water then this wouldn’t need to happen, Granger!”
He was a few yards away from her now, but steadily getting closer. The mid-August sun was beating down on them, quickly drying the pond water droplets off his reddening back and shoulders. He had taken several dips already while waiting for Hermione to finally join him, but she wasn’t moving fast enough on her own.
“I’ll get in the damn water when I’m good and ready, Ron; it’s bleeding freezing!”
“Ooo two swears, someone’s spending too much time here,” Ron snorted, taking two more steps closer to her, leaning lower and preparing to rush.
Hermione held her hands up in panic, stepping back into the muddy edge of the pond. “You PRAT—one more step and you’re failing Potions next year! I mean it! I’m not helping!!!”
Ron suppressed his smile, unable to stop his quick scan of his best friend’s body. Her hair had gotten a bit longer since last term, and she must’ve gotten a tan from her holiday with her parents earlier in the summer, and—shit—had her tits—er—chest gotten bigger? (Charlie told him only knobs call them tits; blokes who’ve actually seen em call them more mature things, like eh, breasts and that.) Regardless, Hermione’s…upper half looked nice, bloody better than nice, really. Her usual two-piece blue swimsuit was covered by a short, thin white dress-thing. This addition was new this summer. She usually wore some sort of robe over her suit in the past, but this visit, she came with this little number. And she wasn’t bloody taking it off quick enough.
“I’ve heard that before,” Ron uttered, running full speed and throwing Hermione over his shoulder before crashing into the pond with a loud splash.
He immediately felt the instant rush of cold water engulfing his body, followed by water-suppressed punches, nail scratches, and hair yanking before finally surfacing.
“OH YOU ABSOLUTE ARSE!!!” Hermione bellowed the moment she surfaced. She wiped the water from her eyes before shoving Ron once again under the water.
The chuckles Ron released formed breaking bubbles under the water before he came up once again. “I told you to get in the bloody water; you were faffin’ on the edge for 20 minutes before I finally got you in!”
“It was not 20 minutes, git,” Hermione retorted, splashing water in Ron’s face, “it was maybe…5—“
“Bollocks, you were tip toeing on the shore half the afternoon. I got bored waiting.”
“Well, heaven forbid Ron Weasley gets bored,” Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes and making Ron immediately grin.
He took in the sight of a soaking wet Hermione, a summer image he’d grown quite fond of over the last few years of her staying at the Burrow a couple of weeks before school began. The bright light of the sun reflected off the water around her, making it look like her neck and shoulders were practically glowing above the surface. She splashed him once more, momentarily breaking his concentration before she wrung her long hair out and began clipping it at the top of her head.
“Such an arsehole,” she muttered, “my hairs gonna take all day to dry.”
“I’ll charm it dry,” Ron joked, flicking at the water so tiny droplets flung to Hermione’s face.
“Ugh!” She grunted, still fastening her hair and kicking him below the surface. “Didn’t know 5th years could use magic out of school, must’ve missed that Prophet article,” she teased, giving up and leaving the last few stray curls loose around her neck and face.
“6th year now, ‘Mione, don’t insult me.”
“Oh, wouldn’t ever dream of it, Ronald,” Hermione muttered, swimming toward the shore, “what with you being so grown and mature now…”
“Ah, don’t tell me you’re getting out already,” Ron groaned, unable to resist noticing the white translucent dress clinging to Hermione's body as she rose from the water. She stopped when the surface reached her mid-thigh.
“I’m not, you dolt,” she chuckled, half annoyed. She grabbed at the hem of her dress and began squeezing the water out, “You didn’t let me take off my cover-up before you attacked me, so now I have to lay it out to dry.” She pulled more and more into her wringing hands, until she suddenly pulled it over her head to remove it entirely. She gave it one last good squeeze before laying it on the grassy edge. “There,” she huffed, resting her hands on the bare skin of her hips, right above her swim bottoms. Christ, Ron didn’t think he’d ever seen Hermione work so much with her hands, at least, not outside a school setting. This wasn’t ink-stained fingers furiously writing a Charms essay, this was…different. And something about the manual maneuvers was quickly stirring something below his waist. Hermione looked back at him and must’ve noticed his staring.
“What?” She asked, cheeks flushed. Maybe the sun was getting to her…
“UH—nothing,” Ron shook his head roughly, flinging the water from his hair, “thought I saw a grindylow by your leg.”
“Don’t be silly,” Hermione walked back further into the water, “this water is much too shallow for grindylow.” She submerged herself once again and swam closer toward Ron.
Ron grinned, “Must’ve been an eel then.”
“EELS?!” Hermione yelped, jumping from the mossy bottom of the pond and clinging to Ron’s back.
“I’m kidding, numpty! We don’t have eels,” Ron laughed, detaching Hermione's tight grip from his neck.
“OH you—” she grumbled, pushing him away, prick…”
Ron raised his eyebrows in slight surprise, “Getting real comfortable swearing, I’ve noticed, the twins’ll be impressed.”
Hermione just huffed, “You’re right, it’s from spending too much time with you, even my parents noticed while we were in France. I need Harry here already to balance out the vulgarity.”
Ron felt a glowing surge of pride at the idea of a part of him rubbing off on Hermione, but that was quickly diminished by the mention of Harry balancing it out. “Oh right, posh Harry, only proper language outta him, yeah?”
Hermione snorted, nudging his lower rib with her foot, “You know what I mean.”
“Ahhh,” Ron exhaled, leaning his body back to float weightlessly on the surface, “very rarely do I know what you mean, mad woman.” He closed his eyes to feel the sun against his face and submerge his hot ears into the water. From below, he could still make out Hermione’s muffled response.
“Only as mad as you make me, Ron.” As he felt her hands against his shoulders briefly before feeling her push his body toward the other side of the pond.
Ron let himself drift through the water, loving the polarizing feeling between the hot sun above and the cold water below. After a prolonged silence, Ron dipped below the surface and swam back to Hermione. She was looking off into the distance, dabbing her neck with her wet hands.
“You think your mum and Ginny will be back soon?” She asked out of nowhere.
“I’d reckon another hour or so, Ginny really wanted to hang with Fred and George while they set up the shop, and Mum knows better than to leave her under their supervision.”
Hermione exhaled a laugh, “Hmm, right.”
“Why? Did you need something?” He swam closer to her, watching the drops of water roll off her exposed collarbone.
Hermione didn’t notice, still looking off to the general horizon. “Your mom wants to make a cake for Harry’s birthday before he arrives, just reminded me how nervous I always get about him making it here,” she sighed and looked at him. “Regardless, I should probably get out and ready before they’re back.”
“Ahh, Harry worries—“ he glided next to her and poked the side of her stomach, the touch of her skin warmed his fingertip even under the cool water. “—do they ever end?”
Hermione pinched his bicep in return, “Well, between worrying about Harry, looking out for you, keeping up with our Prefect responsibilities, AND my usual coursework—no, nothing ever ends.” She smirked, facing him.
“Like hell you need to look out for me,” Ron scoffed, “and I carry my weight in our Prefect duties,” he added, nudging her leg with his foot.
“You carry some of the weight, and of course, I need to look out for you! Who are you trying to fool?” She laughed, gesturing to the empty field surrounding them.
“Nuh-uh, it’s the other way around,” Ron lifted his hands above the water to spin his fingers in reverse.
Hermione grabbed his hand and tried to pull him; however, with his feet planted, she instead pulled her own body through the water, so she was right in front of him. She looked almost surprised by their sudden closeness, but continued. “T-think you’d be covered by a lot more of these if I hadn’t been looking out for you,” she lifted his arm from the water to trace the tentacle scars that now wrapped up and around his entire arm.
He blushed at the feeling of her hand holding his and the sight of her fingertips drawing across his forearm. “Nah, if you had really been looking out for you me, you would’ve stopped my stupid arse from getting wrapped up in those brains in the first place. Ugly mess they left behind,” Ron uttered, twisting his arm to see all the sides of his scarred arm.
“Well, I only have so many hands,” Hermione said with a small smile, her eyes not lifting from her finger as it continued circling a particular tentacle mark on his inner forearm. “They’re not ugly, by the way.”
“Come off it,” Ron laughed.
“It’s true!” Hermione grinned back, still looking down. “It’s…it’s just a bit of history on you now, it’s a part of you…it’s…” She looked deep in thought; she never struggled with words, but she seemed to be really thinking them through. She looked up at him before releasing his hand and giving him a light shove against his chest, “Not ugly.”
Ron felt the tips of his ears burning, hoping to Merlin she would think it was from the heat of the sun and not her words affecting him. He dipped his head back momentarily into the water to cool them down. “Well—cheers. It’s rubbish but cheers.” He smiled.
Hermione merely smiled back.
An easy moment passed, of them simply grinning at each other.
After a few seconds, Ron felt the incessant need to break the silence or he’d just spend the rest of the day staring at her. “You reckon you’re ready then? For this year?” He uttered.
Hermione smiled wider. “Should be. I’m not doing your Potions coursework this year, so I should have more spare time on my hands.”
“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts,” Ron smirked, “you know what I mean, though.” He subconsciously moved closer to her. Was he going crazy, or did she move closer too?
“I always know what you mean,” Hermione murmured, watching her hands wade beneath the water. “It’s going to be different this year, even more than last…”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“We’ll have to be there for Harry more, watch over him. Since—since Sirius—“
“We will, we always do.”
“A-and help him. Dumbledore has a plan, I know he must, and we’ll need to help Harry with it, whatever it is.” Hermione said in a rush.
“Of course, Hermione. Of course we will,” Ron assured.
Hermione looked like she was going to say something else, but instead just nodded. He could see her mind still racing.
“And you know…with…with You Know Who—“ Ron blurted, drawing Hermione’s attention immediately from her now still hands. “W-with him…growing, things in and out of Hogwarts may change—“
“—They will change.”
“—just, with you…and your parents…” Ron was trying to make his point in so few words; he didn’t want to paint the scary picture he was sure Hermione already saw ahead of her. “Just— I’ll look out for you, you know that, yeah? My family will look out for all of you.”
Hermione simply blinked at him before surprising him with a smile, one that touched her fogging eyes. She lifted her hands above the water and mimicked the reversal gesture with her fingers that Ron had done earlier, “As usual.”
Ron broke out in a wide grin, “Exactly.”
They were so close to one another, Ron couldn’t remember the last time their faces had been so…leveled…second year, maybe? Before his first growth spurt? Usually, there was at least a foot of height difference separating them. But suddenly he realized his knees were bent beneath him and Hermione must’ve been on her tip toes, leaving their faces perfectly aligned above the surface. The only sound came from the buzzing of the insects around them and their shared breathing. The ease of the water moved Ron’s limbs so slowly, almost unnoticeably, until he felt his fingers connect with the bare skin of Hermione’s stomach.
“Oh!” She jumped back in surprise.
“Shit—sorry, I—“
“No, it’s okay! I-I thought it was a fish,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“I-I didn’t mean—“
“It’s okay, Ron,” she smiled, “just tickled.”
He just smiled back, knowing his face must’ve been a deep, embarrassed red.
“I should probably head in…your mum and Gin will be back s—“
“Wait a tic, I see something,” Ron suddenly interrupted, looking intensely at her face.
Hermione immediately froze with worry, “What? What do you see?”
“Just a moment,” Ron whispered, moving even closer to her and extending his fingers toward her cheek.
“Is—is it a spider? Please be quicker if it’s a bug,” she pleaded, her brows furrowing in near panic.
Ron just smiled, his finger lightly grazing her cheek, “If it were a spider, I wouldn’t still be here in the water, would I?” He chuckled. He pressed his finger delicately to her skin right below her eye and pulled back to show her.
“Here, you make wishes on these, yeah?” He asked, revealing a small black eyelash on his fingertip.
Hermione looked down and giggled, bloody hell, when had he ever made her giggle?
“How in the world do you know that, that’s a muggle tradition,” she smiled, ear to ear.
Ron just shrugged, “You showed me last summer, when we were cleaning out Grimmauld Place, remember? Had me make a wish…” he held his finger slightly closer to her mouth, “go on then.”
Hermione scrunched her mouth in thought, moving it side to side. She lifted her eyes briefly to his, suppressing a laugh before finally blowing against his fingertip, releasing her eyelash into the wind.
“Well, let’s hear it…” Ron smirked.
Hermione shook her head, moving backwards toward the shore, “Oh no, you know it doesn’t work that way.”
“AH—wha? Thought you didn’t believe in that Divination rubbish?” He retorted.
Hermione just smirked, turning around to begin walking out of the pond. “I’m a complex girl, what can I say?” She called over her shoulder.
Ron wanted to follow after her, but found his feet planted firmly in the moss below him. In fact, his whole body seemed to be paralyzed at the sight of Hermione’s wet, dripping backside. “Fucking hell. I’ll say,” he whispered to himself.
Hermione just continued walking up the shore, completely unaware of the erratic pounding taking place in Ron’s chest and the uncontrollable rush of blood flowing below his swim trunks. Once on the grass, she bent down to pick up her white dress-thing, holding it up for the wind to catch.
“Still wet, you arse,” she called out to him, with somewhat of a grumpy smile.
She threw it over her shoulder and crossed her arms in thought. Ron was just frozen in watching her, he hadn’t even thought of a snide comeback.
After a brief moment, Hermione strutted over to Ron’s forgotten pile of clothing and plucked his orange Cannons shirt from the top.
“Oi! And what do you think you’re doing?!” He yelled with a laugh.
“Well, seeing as you’ve left me with no other option, I’m stealing your shirt. I’m not walking through your house half-clothed,” she said, dropping her damp dress and shifting around his shirt to find the head and arm holes.
“The house is empty!”
“Irrelevant, your parents could literally pop in at any moment,” she said calmly, putting on the oversized shirt.
“You’re completely barmy—“ Ron’s words caught at the sight of Hermione in his shirt. The bottom hem hit the very top of her tan thighs, and the sleeves fell loosely below her elbows. She looked bloody perfect.
Hermione continued to just move as if she wasn’t driving Ron into utter madness. She picked up her dress from the grass and released her hair from her top clip to let her curls fall down her back. She turned to walk back toward the house when Ron was finally able to speak, just to keep her there a moment longer.
“A-and what exactly am I supposed to wear?” He yelled to her, shakily.
Hermione looked over her shoulder with a laugh, “It’s your house, I’m sure it has all been seen before!” She spun around to continue walking backwards up the stone pathway. “I’d get out soon if I were you, though, your face looks like it’s getting all warm and red from the sun…” She gave him one last smile before turning back around and heading for the Burrow.
Ron felt like he’d been hit over the head with a bludger, Christ, he felt dizzy. He sank back into the water like his body was made of stone, “Bloody hell,” he whispered before the water engulfed his head.
That’s gotta bring good luck to the Cannons this year, surely.