BLAME IT ON BUCKBEAK

Disclaimer: Thanks Mrs. Rowling for your wonderful characters. I absolutely lay no claim to any Potterverse characters, just putting them in tales of my own, and I am not making a dime from them. Enjoy the story yall.

Thanks to vonHardenberg, my beta machine for his patient efforts. This ship is not an easy one to work with, and I hope readers enjoy it.

Chapter 1- Get A Grip Ron

"Ron, she said she'd be here today, so she will," Harry said rolling his eyes. "Did you expect her to be here at the crack of dawn?"

"Eat your breakfast Ron," Mrs. Weasley said with a knowing grin. "Looking out the window every three minutes won't make her get here any faster."

"Yes, Ronnikins, you might want all the energy you can get today," Ginny teased.

Everyone knew Ron liked, no- loved Hermione, except for Hermione. This was a constant source of amusement lately for everyone who knew the two. Seeing Ron so smitten was a sight; the smart but oblivious Hermione was an even funnier sight. She had no idea of what she put Ron through these past years. It wasn't her fault; she couldn't help who she was.

Gorgeous, smart, brave, funny, and did I mention gorgeous? Ron thought looking out the window again. I should have asked her out a long time ago!

During his reverie, a "Knock, knock, can I come in?" was heard from the door. The pretty smiling face of Hermione peeked in the doorway.

"Hermione, lovely to see you again. Come in, come in breakfast is ready," Mrs. Weasley gushed.

Hermione stepped in. Ron gasped softly and froze. Her hair had grown a little, was a light shade of chestnut with lighter brown highlights that fell down to her hips; it was no longer the out-of-control bushy mane it once was. It had a life of its own and moved in waves. Her warm, soft brown eyes shone, and the lip gloss she wore made her lips look even more kissable than they already were. Her white lacy tank-top and knee-length peach skirt looked unbelievable against her smooth tanned skin. She was drop dead sexy.

Is it possible that she got even more gorgeous over the summer? Ron thought as Hermione chatted with Ginny.

"Herms! You look fabulous!" Ginny said and walked to the door and hugged her as well.

Harry did the same and got a peck on the cheek. Ron unstuck his frozen behind from his seat and made his way to her.

"Mione," he said and hugged her.

Her felt himself furiously blush and shudder a little bit when he felt her body against his. When he got his peck on the cheek, he could have sworn his jeans felt a tad bit tighter at the front.

Get a grip Ron! he thought to himself.

"Ron? Are you ill? You look flushed, and did you shiver?" Hermione asked and felt his forehead.

"Come on, let the poor girl get some breakfast," Mrs. Weasley said as she hugged her. "Ron, be a dear and get her things to Ginny's room."

Hermione took a seat at the table and helped herself to fruit and toast.

"Herms, tell us about your summer, your letters sounded so much fun," Gin said.

Ron came back into the kitchen. Everyone sat back down at the table to listen.

"Well, my parents and I left for St. Barts shortly after term ended. We usually go to France or Greece or somewhere like that during the summer, but they decided on something different this year. It was brilliant! We had a hard time leaving we liked it so much," Hermione said. "When we returned I started the job at the pool across town as a lifeguard. I got this great tan as you can see. So what did you lot do?"

"I got a job too during the summer, Uncle Vernon thought it a great idea for me to be out of the house as much as possible," Harry said with a sneer. "I had fun and made some money."

"You told me in your letters you worked, but did you do?" Hermione asked.

"A dishwasher in a restaurant downtown," Harry said.

"The great Harry Potter washing dishes," Hermione said slapping his arm.

"Ron? I imagine you were in your element," Hermione said, directing the conversation at him with a warm smile.

"Huh? Oh yeah, quidditch camp was fun," Ron said. During the summer he had been a coach at a quidditch camp for kids. "Made decent money too."

"Well now that the good stuff has been said, I have some news that needs to be hashed out. I was made head girl," Hermione said. The others cheered and congratulated her. "Take a wild guess as to who was made head boy. Malfoy."

The room went silent.

"Kind of puts a damper on the whole thing, doesn't it?" Harry said.

"Actually no, he did something surprising," Hermione said.

"What?"

"He came to the pool I was working at during my lunch break and we came to a truce," Hermione said.

"What kind of a truce?" Harry asked.

"He said that since this is our last year, and that we might be at war next week or next month with Voldemort, he is tired of fighting. He wanted us as head students to try and work together," Hermione said taking a bite of toast. "A truce of civility."

"And you believed him?" Ron asked.

"Yes, I did, he was sincere," Hermione said. "Something big happened over the summer with his dad and it affected him somehow. I thought it was mature of him to extend the olive branch, so I took it. Maybe you can do the same?"

"I dunno Hermione, he has been a cruel prat to us," Harry said. "We'll see, all right?"

"Ron?" Hermione asked.

"I feel the same as Harry; he has been a huge prat, that's hard to get by all these years," Ron said.

"I'm not asking you to be bosom buddies with him suddenly, just try and be civil?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"We'll try Mione," Ron said. He would do anything she asked!

After breakfast, Hermione was sorting through some things in her trunk, lost in thought.

Well, they took the news of Malfoy better than I thought. Are my guys growing up? They sure look it. I swear both Harry and Ron top out at six feet, leaving me at five foot five. Thanks mum for the growth challenged genes. They have filled out nicely too. Whoa Granger, where did that come from? They are like your brothers, and you are not supposed to think of brothers like that. And what was up with Ron during breakfast? Was he ill? Is something wrong with my hair? He kept staring at it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was looking at my chest too. Malfoy noticed, so why not him as well? Ahh, here we go, holiday pictures….

The remaining week before term, they tried once again to get Hermione on a broom and enjoy a quick quidditch match. She declined, happy to just watch them. Hermione kept Ginny entertained with some of the more "delicate" romantic details of her summer. After shopping for school supplies and celebrating Harry's 17th birthday, they tried to organize the chaos that was the nine and three quarters platform the first day of term.

On the Hogsmeade Express, Ron was lost in thought.

Another term, another train ride. I feel the familiar lurch of the train and again, I'm thinking of her. As daffy as it sounds, I lay part of the blame on Buckbeak for the way I'm feeling right now. Don't get me wrong, what I'm feeling is good. I can tell you when all this started. In third year, in Care of Magical Creatures class to be exact. Harry was getting to know Buckbeak and got twitchy, which in turn startled Hermione, which in turn made her grab my hand, kind of. That one touch those years ago set me on the path I'm on now. And what's that path? Simple, make Hermione mine. If only it were that simple. Simple would be me holding up a big sign that said, "Hermione I love you. Will you be mine?" But with Mione, it's not simple. She has to poke, prod, examine and explore the who, what, when, why and where of every situation that comes up. She has mellowed out over the years and has become less of a know-it-all, less bossy and more fun. Thank Merlin. Which brings me to what else has happened over the years.

Mione has become a full-blown hottie. I first noticed this fourth year at the Yule Ball. I already started having feelings for her, and when she appeared in that hall for the ball, it took my breath away. I was with a pretty girl for the ball, but there was no connection at all with Patil. My heart fell into my stomach seeing her with Victor Krum. Worse, she continued to see him for the next two years. Krumbly, as I call him, must have had it bad; he came back to Britain whenever he could to see her. I honestly can't blame the bloke. A couple of days ago I overheard her talking to Ginny about some muggle movie she had seen and the phrase "full-blown hottie" came up, and I had no idea what that meant. So I asked my other muggle-raised best mate, Harry, what it meant. After he explained to me what it was, I decided that described Mione was when she returned from summer holiday.

She kept herself busy during the summer, going on holiday with her parents and working part-time to make a little pocket money. I missed her, there's no other way to put it. That brings me to where I am right now, sitting in a compartment on the Hogwart's Express on the way to our last year, across from Mione. She was leaning over and quietly talking to Gin. By the giggles and looks, it must have been some pretty good gossip because Mione doesn't gossip. I'm trying not to stare at her while trying to listen to Harry's chatter. In this situation, multi-tasking is not my thing, not when she's looking like she does today.

Harry is poking me every once in a while to make sure I'm listening, and Mione glances at me every once in a while. That white sundress of hers, that has the top two buttons undone, has been my undoing today. When she leans over to say something particularly juicy to Gin, I can just see the top of her ample cleavage. She shifts in her seat, and more of her smooth, tanned thigh shows thanks to the slit in the skirt. I realize my mouth is dry and glance at Harry. We blush when we realize that we have both been looking at Hermione. What can I say? We are seventeen after all.