Hermione visits Ron while he's sick. They talk and it's friendly and sort of shippy.

Ron gazed out of the window. It was a bright, sunny day outside. It was a Saturday in September and Ron had started his sixth year a few days ago. Harry and Ginny were at Quidditch practice, but Ron was stuck in his bed, because he was as sick as a dog. He had a bad cold and cough and a temperature. He didn't think it was very fair at all that he was stuck inside, in his bed, while the rest of Hogwarts was enjoying the hot temperature outside.

The door of his dormitory opened and Ron looked up. To his surprise, Hermione was walking into the room. "Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm coming to visit you," Hermione said, smiling at him. She held a basket in her hand and a book in her other hand. "And to molly-coddle you since you're sick." She walked over to Ron's bed, setting the basket and book on Ron's nightstand and sitting on his bed. "How are you feeling?"

Ron grinned up at Hermione. "Better now," he said. "But, still, pretty bad." He started coughing and had a fit. "Can you pass me my water?"

Hermione nodded, reaching over to Ron's nightstand and handing him the glass of water. She watched him sit up and take a long drink of water. "Mmm, thanks," he said, wiping his mouth and setting the glass back down. "You do realize you're not supposed to be in the boy's dormitories, right?"

"Of course I realize that," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "But I'm a prefect and everyone else it outside." She reached for the basket and Ron licked his lips, hoping that basket had food in it. "Are you hungry?"

Ron grinned again. "You know I am," he said. Hermione smiled, bringing out a sandwich. "Oh, Hermione, you are the greatest person I know. This looks so good."

Ron started to eat it happily and Hermione smiled. She got up and got the chair next to the boy's bureau. She pulled it over next to Ron's bed and sat down in it. She pulled a sandwich out of the basket for herself, her hair falling over her eyes.

Chewing, Ron thought Hermione's hair. Yes, he thought about Hermione's hair. Other then charming it a little bit in the morning so it wouldn't be frizzy or bushy, she rarely did anything else with it. Sometimes it was up in a messy bun, but that was all. He liked how she didn't care about some things, while other things she couldn't care more about, like school and homework and S.P.E.W.

"I like your hair," Ron said after swallowing. Hermione looked at him, a blush spreading to her cheeks.

"What did you say?" Hermione asked, tilting her head a little bit.

"I said I liked you hair," Ron said, a blush coming to his own face. He proceeded to scarf down his sandwich instead of elaborate further on his compliment. Hermione shook her head, smiling, and continued to eat her own sandwich, too. "Brb bu freck impu zhu zhuthcen?"

"Come again?" Hermione said, raising her eyebrows, an amused look on her face.

Ron chewed and swallowed. "Did you sneak into the kitchens?" he asked. "To get these sandwiches, I mean?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course I did, how else would I have gotten them?" she asked.

"You mean you made the house-elves work?" Ron asked. "That's so cruel of you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It was for a good cause," she said. "A sick student." She took another bite of her sandwich, then chewed and swallowed. "Did you like it?"

"Of course I did," Ron said, brushing crumbs off of his blankets. "Do you like yours?"

"Of course I do," Hermione returned. "I also have some oranges and cookies if you'd like them."

"Of course I would," Ron said, a smile creeping back unto his face.

Hermione pulled an orange out of the basket and a stack of three cookies. She waved her wand, muttering a small spell. A tray floated out of the basket and floated above Ron's lap steadily. Then the orange started peeling itself. "I'm glad it's Saturday," Hermione said in a relaxed voice.

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Just because," Hermione shrugged a little bit. There was a moment of silence.

"You know, yesterday, when you got sick during Defense Against the Dark Arts class, I was sure you were skiving off," Hermione said.

"Hermione, how could you accuse me of such a thing?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows. They both knew he wouldn't have a problem skiving off, but not Defense Against the Dark Arts. They had a new teacher, obviously, and it was someone the three of them knew: Bill Weasley. "I like having my brother as a teacher here. As long as he doesn't bring out the baby pictures or stories of me when I was younger, then I really like him here."

Hermione smiled, but didn't say anything. She finished her sandwich and dropped her crust into the basket. "I can't believe you don't eat the crust," Ron said, shaking his head. "That's the best part."

Hermione shook her head and, again, didn't respond.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I was just thinking," she said.

"About?" Ron prompted.

"About...about Ginny, is all," Hermione said, waving her hand.

Ron threw up her hands, exasperated. "Here we are, having a normal conversation, not bickering for once, and you're thinking about my sister," he said, then started coughing again. Once he had finished, Hermione was looking at him, concerned. "You've broken my heart."

"Oh, hush," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Are you taking that potion as much as you should be?"

"Yes," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Three times a day, I've taken it twice, I'll take it again tonight around six."

"Good," Hermione nodded, and looked like Professor McGonagall.

There was another moment of silence in the room. The shouts and screams from outside drifted into the room, though.

Hermione was looking at her book on the nightstand, biting her lip. "Ron," she said suddenly.

Ron arranged his orange peel in his mouth and smiled so that the peel was pulled over his teeth and behind his lips. Hermione took one look at him, then started laughing. The room was filled with her laughter for a moment and when Ron took the peel out of his mouth, he grinned at her.

Smiling brightly at him, Hermione shook her head a little bit. "Anyway, as I was trying to say," she said, her smile fading. She paused. "I really feel like we ought to do something."

"Do something?" Ron repeated, taking extra peels off of his orange. He hated that stringy whitish yellow-ish stuff...

"Ron," Hermione said in a serious tone.

"What?" Ron said, looking up.

"I need you to concentrate," Hermione said, putting her hands on Ron's. Ron felt his face get very hot. Hermione's eyes widened and she pulled her hands away from Ron's. "Oh, bloody hell, Ron, I'm trying to talk to you!"

"Did you just say bloody hell?" Ron asked, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled.

"All right, all right, what?" Ron said. He was still utterly amazed that Hermione had sworn. He was telling Harry as soon as he saw him.

"You don't take me seriously," Hermione said, the line between her eyebrows deeper than ever.

Ron's smile faded. "What do you mean?" he asked, alarmed.

"You don't take me seriously," Hermione repeated. "I feel like you're-whenever we're not fighting, you're only joking around and sometimes I want to-to talk to you about things, but you're never serious and it's like you've suddenly decided you want to be like Fred and George, even though you could never be them-not that that's a bad thing, I like you just the way you are, except for the fact that we never-that we never talk anymore, unless it's with Harry, but I miss just the two of us, being alone, being serious, not acting like two year olds. I mean, I like it when we laugh, you make me laugh more than anyone else I know, even more than-than Fred and George, and things seem like they're going to be okay when we're talking and laughing together, but don't you ever just want to be serious around me?"

Ron blinked, trying to take all of this in. Hermione wanted him to be serious...she liked him being funny, but she still wanted him to be serious. That's what he had gather. "Er...Mione," he said. "I-"

Hermione buried her face in her hands. "I've just made a complete fool of myself," she said in a muffled voice. "I don't know why I do this to myself-when I'm around you, Ron, it's like I'm a different person. I just completely lose it."

Ron blinked again. "Hermione, you haven't made a fool of yourself," he assured his friend. "I understood you, sort of. I gathered that sometimes you want me to be serious, even though you really like me not being just wish that sometimes I wad."

"Yeah," Hermione said with a tone of hope in her voice. "Yeah, something like that...I just-I think I've become close with you, that I-that I like talking to you about problems and things."

"Problems and things," Ron said, trying to register, still, what she was trying to tell him.

"I mean, not like complaining to you about things or anything," Hermione said quickly. "But-but, I mean...when I talk to you about things that are going on, like we do when we talk about Harry or Voldemort or-or even classes, I find that I can think more clearly and I sort out my thoughts and my fears. Do you know what I mean?"

Ron found himself nodding. "Yeah," he said. "I...I feel the same way. You're so level headed when I'm so stupid sometimes and you just...bring me back down to earth."

Hermione looked very, very relieved. All right...okay, Ron was pretty sure what she was saying now. "Oh, Ron," Hermione said, smiling. "That's it-we can be in the same room for twenty minutes without starting to fight, and-and I want..." she looked away from him. "You comfort to me, even if you don't realize it." She licked her lips quickly, looking nervous.

Ron moved the tray off of the bed and set it on the nightstand. He swallowed a little bit. "Well, was there something you wanted to talk about right now?" he questioned.

"No," Hermione shook her head, looking up at Ron. "Not right now." She stood up, then sat back down on the bed.

"Well, if there ever is..." Ron trailed off, then shrugged.

"Yeah, I know," Hermione said. "I feel stupid for even bringing it up."

"Don't," Ron told her. "Don't, really, you shouldn't..." He stifled a yawn.

"I reckon you're getting tired," Hermione stood up and started packing her things. "You didn't even eat your orange." She paused, looking around. "Ron! When do you eat those cookies?"

Ron grinned, then held up his hands innocently. He laid down in his bed, yawning.

"Do you mind if I stay in here with you?" Hermione asked.

Ron shook his head. "No," he said. "That's what my mum used to do."

Hermione smiled, sitting on the chair and opened her book. She looked up a few moments later, about to ask him a question, and realized he was already asleep. She smiled and moved to sit on the side of the bed.

She glanced around the room, then decided to go for it. She gradually laid down next to him on her back. Ron stirred a little bit, and then started snoring. Hermione giggled a little bit as his breath tickled the top of her head. She opened her book and started reading as Ron slept next to her.