Harry Potter 1. Wrong Impressions

My 3rd HP story, also involving Ron and Hermione. It's a sort of sequel from a previous story, but you don't need to read it to make sense of it. I hope you enjoy it so far and happy reading to you.

Dedications: To my awesome Beta Reader Kage (you rock my world!) and even though he won't read this, to my good friend 'Nukey'. You have showed me that despite it all you have to hang on to a little faith.

Disclaimer: If I really owned this it would have been made into a subplot for an alternate Harry Potter book a long time ago….

Name of the Game 

Chapter 1: Wrong Impressions

_"Daily Prophet Best Selling Author"_

It was one of the many titles and taglines she carried with her: Hermione Granger, or as she was known to the literary community, H. R. Granger. She was tired of conventions and readings; she wanted time for herself, time for her ideas, not for the 24/7 stress-train she was enduring.  

Of all the things she ever envisioned herself as, being an author was not even in the corner of her mind. But things change in time, including perception, and here she was, signing her millionth copy of her latest book, "Tales of Shadows." It was a fantasy novel to her fans but to her it was almost a recount of her young adulthood… where unlikely heroes saved the day from evil, dark sorcerers.

But of course, that was in the past, right where she wanted it to stay. For good. Nothing ever came out of her years at Hogwarts except for her education, or a least that was what she told herself. Hermione never allowed anymore than those tiny memories of her former school to come back to her, all her other recollections of that period had been buried… even the special ones.  She lived in the 'states' now, far and away from all she left behind.

"Hermione, you've got about two minutes to wrap things up." It was her agent Anita, the same one who dragged her into these things but somehow always managed to rescue her from them as well. 

She looked up at the clock, feeling more than a little peeved, "I've already been here for three more hours than I was supposed to!" It wasn't that she didn't appreciate all her fans but this was just borderline ridiculous.  Processes like this one always made her exhausted.

"I said two more minutes!"

She wasn't buying it. "You've been coming back every half hour or so to tell the same thing. Nita, it's one o' clock in the morning, I want to get some sleep and I could always just come back tomorrow."

Anita shot a nervous look at the ceiling. "Well, actually you've got a meeting with your publisher tomorrow to talk about your recent ideas."

Hermione would have been ecstatic if half of her neurons would have been awake. "Really," she evilly teased and smiled, "and why wasn't I informed of this?"

                                        *         *         *

She'd been waiting for this meeting for weeks now but somehow she could not help but feel a tight pull in her stomach. American publishers were so much harder to deal with sometimes and hers was truly a shining case. There would always be some sort of setbacks or restrictions they would push on her. Anita lead her into the spacious office of Keith Hamilton, or as she would like to call him, the story-killer.

"Granger!" He was visible behind a large wooden desk. "Glad to see ya, so how did your signing go?" His thick southern accent punctuating every word he went on "Not too much trouble now, was it?"

She smiled half-heartedly. "It went perfectly well Mr. Hamilton." As well as leaving at 3:45 in the morning could be. "However, I am wondering why you requested such an urgent meeting." And she meant it too, it wasn't everyday that the boss requested a face to face encounter.

"Well little lady." Oh how she hated being addressed like that. "You'll be happy to know that Anita here has informed me about your plans to write a story involving a Quidditch player." He saw her grim expression and laughed. "Well don't worry there. We think it's an excellent idea to make modern heroes into real heroes! As you might now, I'm a fan of the sport myself."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Really, Mr. Hamilton, as you know I've been wanting to follow up on such an idea."

Anita beamed at her, "I've also told him that you've been thinking about taking a small break to do so." Hermione looked puzzled. "Anyways, we thought about sending you to do some research on one of those moderate teams."

Needless to say, she was more than a little amused. "Research? On what, a bunch of barbarians swinging balls back and forth?" She tried not to sound so stuck up but it just came out in such way. She already knew enough about the activity after years of having her two school friends on the house team.

Hamilton, who had been observing her cautiously just doubled over in laughter. "I take it you are not a big fan?" Precisely that and she had her own reasons for it as well. "As I see then, there is nothing to discuss. I want you to get in the game and that's why you're going to good 'ole U.K."

"Great Britain?"  Of all places to go back to….

"One of my favourite teams too, and you know, a little publicity couldn't hurt. I've already talked to the team manager and everything is set-up." He handed her a folder "I thought about making you stay here, check up on of our own but Anita insisted you go; and besides the people here all about the quodpot" 

She was extremely taken back all of a sudden. "All right," she shuttered, this was something she could handle, and she needed a vacation. "And what team would that be?" Anything as long as it wasn't….

"The Chudley Cannons!"

*          *          *

"Hey Weasley! Wake up chum." Ron popped one of his eyes open, just fast enough to feel the impact of icy cold water being dumped on him. "That'll get you!" Ron's entire upper body shot up in shrill shock. 

"Bloody idiot! What was that for?" Chilled drops of the water fell through his thick short bangs and into his face. "I heard you the first time." His intruder only grinned further. "And I suppose you expected me to go up at 'em with a mighty good heart attack."

"You big baby, come on the coach wants to see you." He finished by throwing a towel at his face. "He wants you there A.S.A.P."

Ron took a glance at his wrist. "Damn, it's already past noon. The coach is going to have my head."

*          *          *

"Weasley, you slacker. I'm going to have your head!" Surprise, surprise.

"Coach Frost, really I can explain…." And as soon as he could make up an excuse he would get back to him.

"Save it, boy! Mickey's tired of fetching you each day and quite frankly, I'm tired of practicing with only six players in my team every morning." His brow was gleaming with sweat and Ron could have sworn he was beginning to develop an angry tick. "You owe your mates a lot, but luck is in your way and I got just the chore for you to make up for it."

Just as long as it didn't involve cleaning the locker rooms with his robe and toothbrush again…. "Sir, it doesn't have anything to do with my robes and brush, does it?"

Coach Frost took small moment to relive the memory and smile. "That was a good one, wasn't it?" He chuckled at the frustrated redhead. "But much to my dismay it's much simpler than that. I suggest you take a seat."

He obliged, looking at his coach up and down. "And what have the boys planned for me this time?" 

"We had nothing to do with it, the manager needs a favour," he continued when he saw the lad's confused expression, "some fancy writer wants to do some research on Quidditch players and naturally he picked the best team to do that! As I was saying, this guy needs someone to lead him around."

"And what does all of this have to do with me?" He saw the coach's lips twist into an evil grin. "No way, you've got to be kidding me. I'm not a tour guide, and I'm not going to be either!"

The couch, of course, just kept grinning. "Good to see you so cooperative, old chum. I'll tell the guys we got the man for the job."

*          *          *

"So let me get this straight: you have to play babysitter to some dumb old writer for five weeks?"

"Weasley, I can see you already, with an apron and all."

Ron tried hard to ignore his mates' snickers and dumb comments. "I'll just dump the bloke somewhere."

Mickey and Damian still kept laughing. "Weasley the nanny!" They were interrupted by a knock on the door, they got up to leave. "Good luck pal, you'll need it." His "attackers" left him and went out the door, allowing the mysterious knocker to come in. 

"Wow, you look like hell Ron."

"Thanks for the compliment, Harry." His eyes followed him until he sat in the bed in front of him. "What are you doing here anyway? Did Auror duty finish early today?" he mocked in a serious sort of manner. 

Harry though, was one step ahead of him. "Just wanted to be here for your first day as a nanny," he dodged the pillow that was thrown at his face. "Hey, can't a fellow show some support?" 

Ron twitched his eyebrow. "Surely they can, but you're not one of those fellows. Really, what brings you here besides the overwhelming desire to see me humiliated?"

"To tell you the truth, I got an owl from Hermione today." The name alone was enough to bring goose-bumps to his skin.  

"I don't want to hear it, Harry. Five years and not a single holler from her! Trust me, if it's something she'd want me to know, she'd have to tell me herself."

"Can't you just let bygones be bygones? Really Ron, after all this time…."  But Harry knew it was futile to argue with his best friend, especially after what happened so long. "Fine Ron, but tell me this: do you even know the writer's name?"

"Frost said it was some American writer named something Rainger or whatever…. Who bloody cares?" 

Harry rolled his eyes. "I see, well then good luck Ron, I'm sure you'll have a blast."

*          *          *

"Hermione, if you keep pacing like that you'll put a hole on the floor," Anita pleaded helplessly.

She couldn't help herself. The Chudley Cannons out of all the teams in the U.K. Hermione wasn't sure she could handle herself anymore; that was _his favourite team, everything about them invoked some memory or another about their past, and worst of all she'd have to stand it for five weeks._

"I'm sorry, Nita. I'm just a bit edgy that's all." She hadn't heard of Ron in five long years and now she'd have five _wonderful weeks to do so. She sighed and muttered to herself, "I don't even know where you are and you still drive me crazy." It was maddening to her.  _

"Hermione, I think there's someone at the door."

Time to face the music. "Fabulous, five weeks with some Neanderthal showing off his monkey skills." And worst of all with her thoughts running about Ron. "What could possibly be worse?"  

At that moment the door swung open. 

***************

TBC…..

And that ends the first chapter. Not much to say for now except there's a lot more to come. And, I just want to sincerely thank you all for reading this. And of course, a little review wouldn't hurt either.  *Severe hinting

See you in Chap 2

TK's Angel


	2. Anything but this

Name of the Game

Part 02: Anything but This 

By TK's Angel

Hermione noticed a tall, muscular frame make its way through the door. She couldn't see the man's face very well since it was hidden under a cap and sunglasses. She wanted to step out of her corner but that would undoubtedly mean exposing herself first, something she was not willing to risk.

Anita however had nothing to lose, being impatient as she was. "You must be Wesleigh I assume?" The arrogance in her tone was certainly obvious but Ron discarded it immediately, he didn't have the patience to deal with cocky agents… especially when he had noted another female presence in the room. He fixed his composure, going straight into Casanova mode.

"So, where's this writer of yours? He could at least have the polite decency to show up on time." He removed his sunglasses, along with his cap and coat, trying to sound distinguished but all the while failing miserably.

Hermione was outraged, enough to forget to mind her anonymity. "You've got some nerve, did you know that?" She stepped closer. "You're the one who's late…." She stopped to catch her breath as took in the sight in front of her: those familiar enchanting blue eyes and that unruly patch of wild red hair. "Ron?" She half sighed, half questioned.

Realisation didn't seem to hit as quickly. "Yeah, that's right." His tone was certainly an annoyed one now. "I'd like to know where this Rainger fellow is before I waste anymore of my time." Which in reality he didn't mind very much since there was something warmly familiar about that gorgeous girl in front of him. 

"Have you ever been aware of how particularly dense you've always been?"

That voice, that stance, it all finally came together for him. But it couldn't be, it was all too good, awful and frightening all at once to be true. "No way."

"In case your brain has failed you, it's Granger not Rainger…."

"Hermione," He mouthed her name, still recovering from the sheer volume of the surprise. 

Anita herself was confused, and more than a little alarmed, there seemed to be something about the atmosphere you could cut with a butter knife; tension anyone? 

"Okay, so as they say, I guess I'll leave you two alone." She scurried out the door and shut it behind her.

Neither of them was aware of exactly how much time had passed since they were so focused on staring at each other up and down. It was almost as if they were playing one of their little games again, to see who'd crack first, who was the most hard-headed of the pair. Unfortunately patience was not listed as one of Ron's many virtues.

"Look, this is absolutely absurd Hermione, none of us is getting anywhere with this." He managed to turn away to avoid looking any further. 

Relief swept her in an instant, she herself knew that she'd dead on loose in their interaction; she was surely as stubborn as he but he didn't have to be pulled in a trance by set of inviting blue eyes. "I can't believe you're still doing things like this to me." And she was right; he was still capable of silencing her with a single look, diminishing her with only his eyes. She meant the comment for herself but he was only a short distance away.

"Doing what? There you go blaming me for things I have no idea I did!" He ran his fingers along the smooth wall. "You don't seem out practice with that at all, I'm impressed." Than again, he wasn't out of practice with joggling arguments out of the blue. 

"What are you rambling about?"

He moved over and plopped himself in the couch to her left. "Fighting, arguing, quarrelling, duelling." He picked up a makeshift snitch lying next to him, thankful for a distraction. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you'd make a darn good boxer."

"You know how much I hate violence."

"Which is precisely why I know better." He dropped the small toy and motioned to the spot beside him on the couch. "We got off on the wrong foot, let's just talk about it. I'm pretty sure you sure don't want to be here anymore than I do."

His words cut through her, but she remained nonchalant. "You're right, there has to some immense mistake here." Somehow her feet managed to lead her to the couch, despite all the scrupled in her head. "My agent will just talk to your manger and we'll be out of this as soon as possible." Maybe not that fast.

"Exactly." He desperately tried to remain composed as well, but it was difficult for him. His glances kept wandering off to her and soon enough he found that he couldn't stop it. 

"So?" She was quickly running out of things to say, what exactly where you supposed to talk about with a person that you have intentionally tried to keep away from the last five years. "What's been going in your life?"

"It's pretty much obvious isn't it?" He was more than a little apprehensive towards her and chose his statements carefully. "I got into Quidditch for some minor league team and eventually made my way here."

"I'm really glad to see that you've made your dreams come true," she said sincerely, but still selfishly bothered her to think that he was falling drunk with happiness; he wasn't affected the slightest by the past, she thought, the same past that haunted her everyday. She couldn't have been more wrong about Ron. 

"Whatever happened to you, I mean, what about your dreams to be a scientist in the muggle world?"

"I realised it wasn't what I wanted."

"You never know what you really want, do you?"

She knew exactly what he meant by his words and she was not in the mood to dig up the past now, which he so conveniently patronized at the moment. She dismissed his comment. "There was something better out there, that's all."

"You always loved doing homework and writing notes, I suppose it just came out naturally for you… writing, I mean." She could have sworn he was spacing out or something.

"You're not in the mood to talk, I can tell." There were still so many things left to say, but alas, confrontation would have to come later. "We should just go talk to someone and get the heck out of this."

"Who says I don't want to talk? And how come you want to leave so badly."

"I never said anything about leaving!"

"Sure you have, you've already mentioned talking to your agent about this twice in less than half an hour. Is sticking around really that awful?" He was almost pleading with her.

"I simply said we should talk to someone about these arrangements between you and I. Come on, we're both mature adults and we both know that we'd eventually kill each other in five weeks." She sighed deeply admitting her previous mistake. "I guess it is better for us if the whole thing is called off." No matter how badly she wanted to stay.

He had to think of something fast, there was no way he was going to let her just slip through his fingers…again. "What about the team, we do need the publicity you know, it wouldn't make us look good if a star writer just runs away from the Chudley Cannons."

"Oh." She wanted him to say something else, needed a better reason to stay; she was weak when she was with him. "You're right, and besides my publisher wouldn't be too happy about it either." It was the first time she had ever been grateful of having a control freak for a boss.

Hey, he'd take whatever he could have. "Everyone's happy." Everyone but him that is. "I promise I'll try to control myself as long as you promise not to kill me the first couple of weeks, deal?"

She smiled, her first real smile since they encountered that day. "You drive a hard bargain Weasley, but I accept." She extended her arm to him, which he took in an almost cautious way.

"By the looks of it we can be civil to each other if we really try." There were still a million things left to sort out, but that could wait, there was enough time for it. For now they were just Ron and Hermione. "I should start showing you around, it is what we're here for."

*********

"So the team went under new management and lots of players were traded." Hermione was not interested in such details but she let the content look on his face. "Though some were rumoured to be kicked off the league completely."

"Must have been terrible for them."

"Not really, most were bums who couldn't play at all." He was proud. "That's when I made it into the League, let me tell you, it wasn't easy."

"You were always good on a broom, unlike me."

"You just need to get the hang of it, the guys can teach you how." That was the idea, to get her to stick around. He pointed to a large oak door down the corridor. "That's the coach's office. He told me to bring you there when I had the chance."

"Whatever for?"

"No idea, he probably wants to show off some trophies or something." He didn't expect any less from his coach. "He's a swell guy, you'd get along."

"I wish I had a boss like that, mine is a real piece of work." She grinned. "You know how American entrepreneurs are sometimes." 

Ron sort of winced at the thought of how far she had been for so long. He was about to say something but he decided to keep his mouth shut, for now.

"Hermione, if there's something we need to talk about one of us can just come out and say it, right?" He promised he would keep his mouth shut but he didn't mention anything about dropping a few encouraging hints here and there. He knew she was confused by his remark but that didn't matter.

They had been so distracted they hadn't even realised they'd reached the door to the Coach's office. Ron knocked on the door, he heard a muffled grunt from inside and acknowledged that as a response. He opened the door and stepped back to allow Hermione in first.

"Coach Frost this is Hermione Granger, Hermione this is Coach Edward Frost." Ron looked amused at the man's surprised expression.

"You're H.R. Granger? Well, I was under the impression that you were a man. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding." Frost could be nice once in a while.

"No harm done." At least this guy was honest enough about it. 

"I really hope this isn't of any inconvenience to you and your staff." She meant in sincerely.

"Well no, not really. But there is one small thing though."

Ron was intrigued. "And that would be?"

"I kinda set it for you and the writer to share a room."

-END CHAPTER 2-

To be continued…..


	3. Shadows will Haunt you

Name of the Game

Chapter 03: The Shadows Will Haunt You 

By TK's Angel

**

"Run that by me again please?"

"I told Mickey he had to bunk with Damian." Ron was not amused by the grin Coach Frost held in his face, his statement appeared to be well thought out, too well actually.  However, Frost was beginning to see the humour in this predicament and tried to suppress a chuckle.  "I'm sure you two crazy kids will be fine."

"Why would you do something like that?"  Ron sensed the smile on his face.

"You forget I thought your friend here was male, and since "he" was here to learn all about Quidditch I just assumed it would be best is "he" got a true hands on, first person experience."  

Darn, he actually had a reasonable excuse for it too.  Ron was could be persuaded to admit that he was even the slightest overjoyed to have Hermione around but sharing a room with her was far beyond what he had in mind. 

"What do you mean by first person experience?" She had been there for less than a day and she had already found herself a five week prison sentence in Ron's room. 

Coach Frost was somewhat beaming. "For the next five weeks you're going to be a Quidditch player, with Mr. Weasley being your personal trainer."

It had been one of the very few times when Hermione Granger was rendered speechless. "Did Hamilton put you up to this?"  The prison she found herself facing had now become more resembling to a torture chamber.

"No, came up with it all by myself. You two will eat, sleep, train and be with each other as much as it is humanly possible." 

Ron's senses shot open. "Sleep with each other!" 

The Coach laughed.  "Much to your great disappointment, it will be in separate beds Ron."  His laughter only intensified when he noticed Ron's ears go pink, he knew that the coach meant sleeping in the same room.  "I think I can arrange one of the guys to put in a screen in the middle of the room." Ron meekly smiled despite his embarrassment, but the little joke didn't go well with him; what was with the coach and all of his newfound humour?

Hermione was still trying to pick up on all the "with each other" things he mentioned.  "Fair enough, Mr. Frost."  She couldn't help but tease an already humiliated Ron.  "But if he as much as touches me…" she stopped to capture Ron's reaction at her empty threat.  It was not what she expected.

"And why would I do something as stupid as that?" As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he had swallowed them.  There was a certain look he couldn't quite pinpoint.  Anger, annoyance… hurt maybe?  His assumptions weren't far from fact since it was a small mixture of all three.

"For your information I was only joking around.  Really Ron, sometimes you are so full of yourself."  They had found themselves in square one all over again.  Oh boy, these were certainly going to be the longest weeks of their lives.

Frost however was still in the middle of all the crossfire.  "Jeez, you two bicker like schoolgirls.  You wouldn't happen to know each other, would you?"  Ron nodded his head in a desperate manner.  "Things just keep getting better don't they?"  Once again he laughed at them.  "Wait till the boys hear about this." That would just be icing on the cake now wouldn't it?

Ron had about enough as he could take.  "Just tell me where her luggage is and we'll be on our way."  He somehow manoeuvred  to the door with Hermione close by.

"Don't worry about it. It's all in your room."  Ron allowed her to go out first, thankfully she didn't hear the Frost's remark.  "Enjoy the honeymoon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!"

Hermione waited outside and stood to Ron's side, he sighed and began to tread alongside her.  "I thought you said we'd get along."

"I'm sorry about back there, you know I…"

He wasn't allowed to finish "No, no, I meant Mr. Frost and myself"

"Oh" Ron felt sympathetic for her for a moment, he was used to all of this bashing but Hermione wasn't.  "Look, he's just being a prick, that's all. Some of the guys have a weird and rude sense of humour, you learn to get by."  He would just a close eye around her from now on. 

"That's fine with me," she diverted the subject altogether. " I've been meaning to ask you something" His nerves shot up like a rocket, he was intrigued by whatever question she might ask. " Why are the office and the dorms are all in the same place? I would think you guys would have a bit more freedom than that." That wasn't the sort of question he had expected her to ask, but he was relieved by that somehow.

Hermione was always fighting for people's (or house elves') rights so this wasn't an odd query coming from her.  "We've got a choice about that. Some of the younger and single guys stay in the dorms.  Everything is right where you need it."  Not to mention all the adoring fans who piled up outside.

Young and single, very dangerous combinations for a Weasley. "What made you decide to stay in the dorms?" 

"I don't know really. Most of the guys wanted to stay and, overall, everything was just easier," he interrupted himself when they neared an open door.  "My dormitory is right here, the doors are usually unlocked but rarely open so don't worry too much. Mickey probably left it open when he moved out."

They heard a voice from inside.  "Well, it's about time you got here."

"Anita, where in the world have you been all this time?"

"Believe me.  I've flipped about the room thing.  It may cost a bit somewhat more than we had planned…. but we would keep you in a hotel." 

Hermione did not want to appear so conceited, she had argued with herself about this choice already.  "Really, I don't mind.  Besides, the Coach wants me to stick with a program."  Anita was bewildered, this wasn't the friend she knew.  "Ron and I go a while back.  There's really absolutely  no problem with it," She lied about the last part but frantic times called for frantic solutions.  Anita would have to leave soon to board her flight back home and she needed to make everything seem perfect. 

Anita looked sceptical but just decided to take her word for it.  "That's fine by me."  She pulled out a stuffed cat out a large shopping bag.  "But there's someone else who I'm not so sure about."  She handed her the oversized gift.  "Eric wanted you it have it, you know, so you wouldn't miss him too much." She finished with a tiny wink.

Hermione caught Ron's eyes in that instant.  What the hell was she saying?  Anita didn't even like Eric.  "I'll be sure to thank him."  She averted Ron's gaze afterward and simply followed her hopefully drunk friend out the door. 

"Listen to me, I'll leave right away, but just if you tell me you'll be alright."

Hermione appreciated her honest concern.  "For the millionth time, I'm going to be just fine."  She nudged her out the door.  "Go on.  I'll miss you Nita."  She was already past the stairs.  "Have s safe flight!"  Finally, she was gone.  Hermione felt a great pang of overwhelming reassurance sweep her, there was no running away from things now, but it was different. She was ready this time. 

"So, who's this Eric person?"  She knew it had been too good to be true. 

"A friend back home."  That was it.  She had to keep such answers short and enigmatic.  It wasn't as if she was lying, no, it was more like a detour to the truth. It worked with Anita at least.

"A friend who gives you large plush toys with hearts all over it.  Come on, you can do better than that."

"Can't I have a friend who worries about my well being?  It's nothing Ron.  Eric is just trying to make e feel better about loosing Crookshanks."  Fine, so maybe it wasn't the whole truth but she did mean it when she mentioned her cat.

"That thing died?"

Technically, it had already been three years since he passed away.  "Yes, he did."

"I thought he was immortal!"

"What a horrible thing to say!  You know how much he meant to me.  Poor old thing just drifted off while he was sleeping."  Hermione herself had judged her diversion techniques as excellent… they were already miles away from talks about "friends" back home. 

"I'm truly sorry about that, you know he and I did have our good moments now and then."  In fact, he did like the fur-ball a bit.  "But enough of that, you probably don't want to think about it for now."

"Thank you, Ron."  He had been really understanding.  "Hey, could you help me get hold of a telephone.  I told my parents I'd call them when I arrived."

"You still have to call your Mum and Dad?"

"No, but they feel better if I do."  They had always been very mindful of their little girl, so much that they had actually moved to the United States a few years after her.  "You know my parents and how touchy they get when I'm too far away" Like on the other side of the world.

"Why don't you just owl them, it would be so much simpler that way we'd have to go out a few block to get a phone thingy."

"I don't mind a small walk.  And there is no way I'm making an owl go all the way to the States just to say hello to my parents.  I promise, it'll only be a short call."

Hermione was giving him that look.  That pleading look he couldn't resist, what a poor fool he was.  "Why do I let you talk me into these things?"  Maybe because she was so painfully beautiful.  "I just got to say, all I ask that you shoot me out of my misery if the call extends four hours."

"As always Ron, your nous of comedy just exuberates with wit."  She also had her own method of counter attack, big words.  Ron couldn't notice the small snickers that escaped her mouth.

"Oh whatever."  He was down, but not defeated.  "Let's go, we barely made it in the room and you're already doing jumps over your muggleness."  He chuckled when she stuck her tongue out at him.  "Talking on phones and taking planes."  He seemed to taunt her innocently too. Honestly, 7 years at Hogwarts, and scoring on the top of every single N.E.W.T and O.W.L known to Wizard kind…and she was still true to her nature, it was quite impressive. "Textbooks can't help you now…."

"I'll tell you one thing Ron Weasley, its moments such as this one I wish I would have packed something larger in with me"

"What for?"

"To stuff you with it." She cocked her head to the side only to highlight her menace.

This was too easy.  "Well, there's always your big, fluffy, plush cat"  And a really ugly thing it was too, he'd be doing her a favour by knocking the padding out of it. He couldn't place his fingers on it, but something about that damn cat gave him the chills.

"You would know better than to give me any ideas. I don't mind putting it to good use. And what an excellent use it would be for: knocking some logic into that skull of yours"

He couldn't help a minor grin that began to form itself on his face "Touché"

"Just hold on a second while I get my calling card."  The expression he held said it all.  "It's this article you purchase from a telephone company. It brings a unique numerical code and you use at as a sort of password; in lesser words the calls you make directly come out less expensive, that's all" She was far too fatigued for a lengthy explanation, and her point had been reached just the same.

"I'll just go ahead and believe you, how's that?"

**

"Haven't you found it yet?"  It was unbelievable how a whole hour of searching for such a little thing could turn up nothing.  He decided to just take things on his own hands.  "Can't we just buy one of those buggers?"

"I suppose there's nothing else we can do"

Ron could use some fresh air.  He got to the door and noticed something oddly peculiar when he tried to turn the knob. He tried to turn it but he encountered some resistance on its behalf. He knew that she hadn't locked it, so what was going on? "Hermione" He called to her "Have any idea why the door won't open?"

-END CHAPTER 3-

Why won't it open, and why didn't he just use a spell?? Well kiddies, we'll see that in the next chapter!

TBC…..


	4. Heck of a Day

Name of the Game 

Chapter 4

One Heck of a Day

By TK's Angel

Ron did not bother to wait for an answer, knowing that there wouldn't be a reasonable one.  Instead he pulled out his wand. 

"_Alahomora."  Just as he suspected, blue sparks flashed from the keyhole.  "__Stikiclick."_

"What did you call me?"

He turned to Hermione.  "I didn't call you anything, I just said Stikiclick."

She remained exactly the same, perplexed and intrigued.

"Remember that ointment Fred used to stick Percy's bum to the toilet?  Well, the guys must've used it on the door."

"Why would they do that? And how do you know it was them?"

"Just my guess, they probably got word from Coach. Trust me. They don't waste a single minute."  Though he was surprised they'd been able to strike in less than two hours after they left the office. 

"Seems a bit dodgy if you ask me. So how do we unlock it?"

"You can't. It's completely spell-proof and extra resistant. Shouldn't be too surprised, it did come out of the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, after all."  He winked at her.  "In other words, take a seat, the only choice is to wait for it to wear off in about… let's see, seven hours?"

Hermione went to the door to prove things door for herself.  It was futile.  

"Are you sure you can't fix it?" she didn't even know why she asked, her memories of the whole ordeal were still a bit foggy to her, but she did at least remember how impossible the situation had been.

"Where's the fun in that?" 

"I'd hardly call this fun," she sighed in sheer frustration. 

"What about apparating?"

"You of all people should know that private facilities like this don't allow that Hermione"

"This day has been quite interesting, don't you think?  I mean, we both meet again after five years, have to spend the following five weeks practically glued to one another and now we have to resign ourselves to be trapped in here!"  Her voice rose with every particular word. 

"If you put things that way," he shook his head at her. "All we have to do is look at the bright side. You could say we're making up for lost time."  In comparison, his voice just got softer.

She tried to look for any hidden meanings to what he said. "You're right, things aren't all that bad," she laughed faintly. She gave up. It wasn't good to get her hopes too high.

"We're in luck however, 'cause there's a Wizard's Chess board around here," he snickered.

She appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood, but Wizard's Chess was not going to happen.  "Do you want me to step aside for you to start doing your little victory dance?"

"I want to save that for when I win"

"Let's call you a winner and get done with it"

"I'll go easy on you," he bent pouted with his best puppy dog look. "Pretty please, Hermione? Ron promises he'll be good"

She tried to stop herself from smiling at his attempt; another useless thing to do, he was acting too irresistibly. "Fine, stop that! I'll play that silly game with you." 

God should punish men like Ron for being so charming.

Ron's eyes lit-up.  "Great! I'll go get the set." 

He went to his closet to pull out the chess set from a small wooden trunk. 

"I haven't played in ages! Those were the good old times; only Bill is up for a match or two these days, but I only see him on Christmas holidays so until then they just lay in that old thing"

Ron pulled out the set and toyed with it. 

"Hey guys, how have you been doing?" he jokingly talked to the pieces.  "Yes I know how long it's been" He looked to Hermione "Is it just me or do the rooks have beards? Well, doesn't matter old or not they can still win every time" 

"Have I told you lately how amusing your antics are?" 

"No."

"That's right that must be because they're not."  She knew that her only chance to win would possibly be to psyche him out before their match. 

He, however, was quick to catch on this one.  "Nice try, but my head's completely in the game." 

She was doomed. 

"Now get over here, we have a game to play." 

He sat down on the floor and she followed his lead, still a bit apprehensive about it all. He noticed this and could not help but pleasantly sneer at her "There's nothing to worry about I can go easy on you if you'd like. It's understandable though, my legendary triumphs speak for themselves"

"I'd hardly call them legendary" She replied and let her eyes wander to the cuddly toy that she had absentmindedly, yet extremely conveniently, placed nearby their spot a while before.

 "You were right. The cat did do nicely to hit you with." 

"What happened to you and your stand against violence?"

"I just call it personal defence against a moron." She half-smiled, feeling very triumphant.

"That's excellent! You should enjoy that little smile of yours while you can."  

It was payback time. 

I've had enough, Ron we've already played fifty-six times."

"Fifty-four and they'd last a lot longer id you concentrated a little more, come on Hermione you can do much better than that." 

They had nothing else to do anyway.

"It's late and I'm really tired." 

She hadn't slept well in two weeks since she got the news. 

"Don't tell me you aren't either, just look at your pieces, even they're ready to call it a night."  Just then she caught one of his knights falling asleep.  "I've proven my point."

 "There's no use in arguing with you, is there?"

"I thought you knew that by now," her last words were muffled by a soft yawn. 

She simply ignored it and began to pick up the chess pieces until she was stopped by Ron.  "The bathroom is to your left, you can get changed in there. I'll finish off with this"  

She shot him a sceptical look. Her thoughts couldn't help but focus at the possibility of there being more stikiclick around the room. Of course there must be! And it wasn't bad enough they'd be locked in the room but now she could be trapped in the WC.

 He noted the lack of response on her behalf, sensing something troubled her. After all, when was Hermione Granger ever quiet around him? "Don't worry, I wont' peak."

"No, no, that wasn't what I was thinking," she blushed lightly. 

Blushes were becoming contagious "Well…uhm, I could just close my eyes or something if you don't…er…want to use the bathroom, I don't know…and if…"

She interrupted him before his thoughts could run any further "Heavens no, it isn't that. The bathroom looks fine to me but what I am trying to say is, what if there's more of that Stikiclick on the bathroom door?" 

"Only one way to find out; you see, the Stikiclick only works when two surfaces come into contact so just close go and close the door.  But really, I wouldn't fret over it too much."  

She did what she was told and tested the door. 

Nothing happened.

"You're safe."

"Do you mind if I take a shower in there?" 

Ron always welcomed the opportunity to make fun of her. "I'd mind it more if you took it in here, that and the fact that there's no running water in this room."

"I'll give you the benefit of not gracing that with a reply." 

Instead she took one of her bags in with her to the bathroom, making sure to slam the door and make a point that she was annoyed. 

 The redhead examined the door for a while, checking for damages "Not bad…she could have broken it off the hinges with more of that attitude. Anyone who'd see her on a broom could swear she's off to Beater School." A Beater? A light bulb turned on in his head. "Say...that's not a half-bad idea; she could do with some more strength in her upper body but that's nothing a little exercise and preparation can't fix."

That was it! He knew exactly what they would do during practice and training. 

"I'm a genius…."

 "Hermione are you done yet?!" Ron bellowed, for some reason he sounded anxious. "Come on, I'm waiting." He knew from experience that women lasted hours in the bath but this was just ridiculous.

A couple of minutes afterwards, she finally came out, looking incredibly refreshed. "That was fairly pleasant up until the moment you began yelling." 

"Yes well, the Atlantic Ocean seemed to be running out of water, I'm sure you can understand"

It was then that she noticed he was holding some sort of large bat and something she recalled as a bludger. 

"Where did you get those from?"

"Finally, I thought you'd never ask!" 

He got up from his bed. 

"You know my roommate Mickey? Lucky for you he's one of the beaters in our team"

Hermione did not look pleased "Run that by me one more time. Now why would that be fortunate for me?"

"Well, the bloke left some of his stuff in here, including his old practice gear" He signalled to them with his eyes. "This will be your equipment while you're here. Isn't that just grand?"

"I'm sorry. I don't think I understood correctly…. What exactly do you mean by equipment?" There had been too many surprises already.  

"You're going to be a Beater, you know, the warrior of the Quidditch, the all Defender of the Team…."

"And what makes you think I know the first thing about being a Beater?" she was being extremely sincere at that point. 

"You've seen my brothers play"

"Oh! I'm sorry that means that I _must be ready for this. How come I didn't think of that before?"_

He went to her and put the objects in her hand. 

"Look at some of the facts here: You have a real good swing; I could tell by the way you threw that bloody cat at me." He devilishly got closer, making sure that her eyes remained only on him. "It's obvious you have bloody good accuracy since you intentionally missed my head by a centimetre or two."

So he did notice she'd done that on purpose. 

"Please, I just got distracted and missed."  It would also prove to be a good alibi. "As you can see, I'd probably break someone's neck if I were to be put as a Beater."

He didn't believe a word she was saying; her excuses lacked sense "What are you so afraid of? It will only be for a few weeks and you actually used to like practicing with me." 

He let out a sigh.  He hadn't meant to put the past into play once more. 

"I know that I'm a Chaser now, but you forgot that I was a Keeper on the House Team and all-around substitute of our own Cannon Beaters. Trust me, you're in good hands."

Of course she'd be in good hands, but it wasn't being in his there that worried her; it was being to close to him again. 

She remembered their endless nights together spent practicing on a broom.  Before that she had been terrified to even mount one, but his determination to teach her had driven her to learn. 

It was too much to go through again, too much to dig from the past. She analysed the situation a bit closer and found that she couldn't refuse. 'Perhaps all this can lead to something' she thought, but to what exactly was what kept her on her toes.

His eager expression said it all and thus her mind was made up "It's not like I'm dying to do this but I did come here for a reason and that was to learn about Quidditch; it wouldn't hurt to give it a try." 

And she finally found her reason to stay.

And he had found his reason to keep her.

"Excellent, we can start training in a day or two, once I get you the proper outfit. You'll need extra protection since this is all so sudden for you." 

By all means, he wanted her alive or at least conscious during her stay. 

"You wouldn't want to be a Bludger target your first day out would you?"

"No, that sounds like a fourth or fifth day sort of thing to me." Actually, she was already worrying about those potentials dangers as it was. 

"One other thing, you still know how to ride a broom don't you?" It was a two-faced question; after all, it had been he who had spent hours teaching her all he knew. 

She nodded meekly and gave him a shy smile.  "That is one thing in my life I will never forget."

It was odd how he couldn't help but feel pleased at himself; he even swore his heart had given a bounce or two.  "It'll be fun, there hasn't been a female player practicing with the team for over three years."

"Why is that?"

"Well there were two, one got exchanged for a Siberian player and the other ran off with another player," he stood for a moment, trying to recall something. "I even think they got eloped and everything."

That sounded like something from a cheap romance novel, Hermione reflected. It was a sweet sort of cheesy; like something Anita would have begged her to put in one of her novels. "That's very…dashing on their behalf" 

"And you know," he stated matter-of-factly, "Quidditch is the most romantic of all sports."

She was just full of sarcasm today "Yes I know! There is nothing more romantic than riding a flying household cleaning artefact, trying to catch a ball or little tiny ball for that matter, all the while trying also to avoid two immense bludgers aimed at you and whose sole purpose is to break your neck." She took a breath "It's the kind of thing soul mates dream of."

That had probably been one of the rare times she had given an exasperatedly vague explanation. 

"Isn't it?  Just give it a day, you'll love it!"

Well, that's it for now folks. Chapter 5 is well on its way since it is summer and my Beta and I have time to concentrate on it. I want to thank all of you, yes all of you who reviewed because if it weren't for you I would've cancelled this story a long time ago. Thank you so much for your emails and responses, they meant the world to me. As always, reviews are also very much welcomed again :D, so don't be shy about dropping a word or two! 

Till then, my friends;

TK's Angel


	5. Significant Risks

Name of the Game

Chapter 5: Significant Risks

By TK's Angel

Teaching Hermione how to be a Beater had been, or so it seemed, like an excellent idea… two days ago. "I swear Harry! I've got an exceptional talent for sticking my foot in my big mouth."

His best friend had been very supportive of his idea; and as such, he had all the right to mock Ron about it.

"Hermione, a Beater?" Ron let out an exasperated sigh.

Harry however had just about enough of both his friends.

"Give her a chance. It's only been a couple of days. Really Ron, you can't give up on her just like that!" Harry could see in Ron's eyes how desperately he needed some encouragement. "When you think about it, it is the gentleman thing to do after she came all this way" Ron arched his brow, questioning; Harry kept on talking "I mean, what else will she do all this time?"

He was a Weasley and to his nature he owed the fact that he still hated being wrong. "She could just watch us, or interview us or anything."

Harry formed a cocky grin. "Well, that would mean that she'd be out of here in no time"

His comment had worked, as he could already notice poor Ron begin to ponder the matter. "You know, on the other hand, I wouldn't want to be rude and… and, she did come all the way here for something right?"

He accepted that as a good answer.

"Might as well give it her money's worth"

"Sure." Harry smirked.

"Frost loved the idea you know" his tone was eager to sound convincing "He said it would make us look incredible if we took a female writer and made a Beater out of her"

"Look Ron, I believe you, and I'm pretty sure Hermione is just as excited as you are about this." Actually he knew it for a fact.

"I'm not excited about anything mind you." He felt his cheeks go warm as a soft crimson blush crept through them. "Really I'm not!"

He didn't really know where to place his feelings, he was nervous about coaching Hermione, feared that she would get hurt; he was anxious about getting to share something so important to him with her, but most relevant of all he was hopeful that their interaction would lead to what they once left behind: their emotions.

This wasn't of any news to Harry, he was aware of both Ron and Hermione's feelings towards each other, mainly because they hadn't changed since their grim parting at Hogwarts.

"So when are you two supposed to get started?"

Ron merely gulped as he shifted his gaze to the window. "This afternoon."

"Good luck then." He turned in his seat, fixing his glasses on the rim of his nose and taking the opportunity to take a more serious note. "Like I said, give her a chance…."

Hermione had come to terms with the idea in her own customary way: reading books. Lucky for her, the facility was full of Quidditch books and other nuisances.

She was currently enveloped in _The Beater's Bible_; her face twitched several times as she ran the gory images, the book described so profoundly, through her mind. She especially didn't like the fact that women were ill-advised against being Beaters; it required too much stability and physical strength (two things she already had trouble controlling whilst on the ground.).

Despite everything, she was committed to playing the best she could, even if it wasn't just for her own sake. She had to admit she was restless about beginning training; in the last days or so, she and Ron had gotten along smoothly.

"All right," she mumbled to herself, "I'm ready for you, Ron."

She hadn't noticed the lean, red-headed figure standing behind her.

"Good to know, Hermione."

It managed to frighten the living daylights out of the poor girl.

"Don't do that! I'm not even on the field and already you're trying to kill me!"

"You're such a baby," he half chuckled at her "I came to get you, were out on the field in twenty minutes so you better gear up." Ron was already wearing his own attire. "Sorry if they're a little big." He held a large pile of clothes and equipment in his hands.

She merely shook her head, offering Ron a smile "They're perfect."

Ron beamed at her statement. "OK, so I'll see you there in a while," he put her equipment next to her on the table and turned to leave, but not before giving into the impulse of kissing her cheek. "Er, sorry, old habits you know"

"Yeah, those really die hard" And Hermione half admitted to herself that she was extremely glad that they did.

Ron mindlessly stood on the field, replaying the events of the last fifteen minutes. He did not regret acting out on a whim, he could still feel his own lips burn from that small interaction. What he didn't understand was what had come over him. His answer came just a few lapses later when he looked up to see "Hermione?"

She looked unbelievably adorable with all her robes and protection on. "I used a reduction charm on them. That's why they look a bit silly." Ron couldn't contain his grin. "Fine, a lot silly."

"No, no! You look great" He drew forward and handed her an old Cleansweep. "Like a true professional." He helped her mount her broom steadily since it hovered slightly over the ground.

Again, there was a melancholy sense of nostalgia around them. "Almost like before Ron. I couldn't keep myself on a broom for the life of me." He responded by merely getting on his own.

"After I get up about 12 metres in the air, you start chasing after me, all right? And hold your club, you need to practice balance." She eyed him oddly. "It worked for Fred and George. I know first hand. I was their crash bunny."

"So that might explain why you became a super-chaser. Honestly, is there any position on the team you haven't played yet?" He winked and took off, leaving Hermione to slowly count the distance he spaced from the ground. "That's about ten metres, I reckon." All restriction and reminders of her fear of flying seemed to have faded as she took off.

"Come on! Is that the best you can do? Just try and catch up to me. And hold that club."

That was easier said than done and it didn't help that Ron kept barking orders at her. "You better pray I don't catch you Weasley or you'll really see me put the club to good use!"

"That's the spirit!" His little plan was working. He led Hermione to focus on her objective by making her angry. Things always seemed to work better that way. "If you really want to, why don't you try that bludger that's coming your way?"

Hermione was forced to duck as she felt the rapid brush of air as one bludger raced through. Ron only laughed and now she laughed as well. "I'll knock him senseless" She had no idea how fast she was going but none of that mattered since only three words ran through her head: Bludger. Ron. And kill.

He was quite impressed with her sudden increase in altitude and velocity; he hadn't anticipated her learning so quickly and had to speed up a bit himself. A wave of mischief came over him and he decided to play a small trick oh her. He turned around, headed in her direction with the intention of trying to crash into her.

Another thing he didn't anticipate was that she'd loose altitude so he had to dive in. Hermione did not perceive this in time, and it just happened that she knocked the bludger at him. "I got you now!" Even she was amazed at the precision in which it was aimed.

Indeed it was precise. Too precise. It hit him square in the head, the force knocking him off his broom and making him collide with the ground. "Ron!" She zoomed to the floor, almost dropping to the earth below her. "Ron, are you all right? I am so, so sorry!" He wasn't responding so she cradled his head in her lap. "Please just… do something."

Suddenly he popped his eyes open. "Now imagine if I had really fallen," he said in between laughs. "Saying: 'Oh please wake up,'" he mimicked her teasingly, "won't do a thing." He picked himself up and leaned next to her. "Lucky for you I have so much endurance."

"Lucky for me, you're so thick-headed"

"Woman, this is endurance!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes, also in a joking way. "Endure this!" And with no scruples whatsoever, she threw herself at him, trying to pin him to the ground. It was fruitless since he was so much leaner than her. She somehow fell on him instead, leaning on his shoulders for support; his hands somehow ended supporting her lower back.

Something about the moment made Ron feel bold and so he tightened his grip around her smaller frame. "You know, this on the other hand could work." She didn't move, trying to read his eyes, maybe to find some hidden meaning.

"Even though you were just goofing around, I'm still incredibly sorry," she separated herself from him.

"It's nothing, really, it's your job to knock people out." His voice became softer as he let go of her. "You need to work on your strength, you didn't hit me very hard"

She was very aware of herself at that moment and she shifted her eyes from side to side, not being able to hide her deep blush. "Let's get back up there shall we?"

He was happy: maybe she was blushing because of him? "Definitely." And both got back on their brooms.

Everything afterwards went swiftly, neither of them could recall any other time when they had so much fun or when they had laughed that much either. Hermione gained more confidence with Ron by her side; he had to recognise that she had good abilities. He would stop once in while to see her flying or just plain enjoy her training. After some hours, they were both exhausted and quite pleased with themselves; Ron signalled her to land as he started descending with his broom.

The ground felt funny under Hermione's feet, and once again she had to work to achieve stability.

"Walking feels sort if funny, doesn't it now? That's just a beginner's thing, you'll get used to it" Ron noticed her determination, and quite admired her resilience as she took in every word he said. "I just want you to know, I think you've gotten pretty good in the past few hours." He knew from experience, he had tried to avoid several bludgers in the process. "See that?" he lifted his shirt under an opening in his robes to reveal a shiny purple mark. "You got me there. That one's a keeper!"

The bruise looked pretty bad. "I don't know how many times I'm going to say I'm sorry." She hid her face from him.

He decided that was rather cute, he led his hands to the small nook under her chin and directed her attention towards him. "Hey," the boy insisted, "look at me, come on," he flashed his most brilliant smile. "In this game, you never say you're sorry."

"Never?"

"Nope. You go all out and do what you have to. No matter what's broken in the process." He reviewed his comment. "Brooms and bones may break, but not our will. Remember that."

"I see you changed your motto."

"Yup, somehow 'cross our fingers and hope for the best' wasn't really working anymore."

"I like this one much better," she handed Ron her heavy equipment. "You know, today was really wonderful." The same crimson colour as before invaded her cheeks again. "I'm really glad you guys came up with the idea. It's just what I needed from all the stress back in America."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Do you like it there? I mean, would you ever come back?"

Hermione's eyes diverted the question. "Well, my whole life is there, my parents, my job." But not the love of her life, it had taken her the entire time she was there to realize it. "But if something was ever to happen I wouldn't mind coming back." Her brown eyes gazed back at his. "I really had failed to notice exactly how much I missed it here. It'll be hard going back."

That was the moment, he wanted to scream, he wanted to tell her to forget all that back in the U.S. This was home! But his mouth betrayed his heart. "You never know, right?" He had to come up with something better than that. "Maybe one day some of us will go there." Oh… that was a good one.

She was going to have to learn self-control because if Ron kept giving her those extremely ambiguous answers she was sure she'd hurt him. Appreciating the sudden burst of bonding between the two of them, she made up her mind to hit back with a question. "But I'm sure there's something, or perhaps even someone who you'd like to stay for?"

"Of course there's someone!" Her jaw hit the floor; he was officially marked for death. "My entire family is here." Ron didn't notice the immense sigh Hermione had breathed out.

"Yes, your family. How could I even ask a question like that?" But she wasn't going to give up. "But that's all, I mean, besides the family, friends or team-mates?"

"Pretty much; what's up with the questions?"

"Word around here is that you're quite the ladies' man. Well, it was kind of proven when I had to close the window to stop the owls bringing all those presents at 3 a.m."

"Groupies, they're nice." He then noticed what she was trying to do. "Besides you shouldn't talk about presents." she put her hands on her hips to signify defiance. "All right then, tell me, giant stuffed cats…. who's Eric?"

End Chapter 5


End file.

Harry Potter, Romance