This is my debut to the fanfiction world.

Well, in this account anyway.

So, I don't own Harry Potter blahdeeblahdeeblahdeeblahbutIwishIownedtheWeasleytwinsblahdeeblahdeeblah.

-.- Have fun and please review. It makes le writer feel full of herself and post more stories. Don't, if you think it sucks. That'll stop le writer. (Hopefully... I nearly gagged when I reread my story, it was one of my worst, however I only posted this when my friends convinced me it didn't...suck, I mean.)

Lots of love to ChibiFrubaGirl. She inspired me to go back to Fanfiction after her fantastical stories. (They rock, especially if you like Kingdom Hearts and Riku. There are a lot of references to me in there as her "friend.")

Anyway, if you haven't already skipped le blabbing of le writer, here's my one shot.

One more warning, lots of Ron+Hermione fluff.

Lots of love. 3

"I am NOT going GAY!"

Hermione was adding basil to the potato stew with Mrs. Weasley when Ron barged in, yelling at the twins.

"Aww, is widdle Wonny upset that he won't admit to trying on women's clothing?" Fred taunted.

"I AM NOT!" He fumed, knocking over a chair with his flailing arms.

Mrs. Weasley intervened. "All right boys, run along and brawl outside." She smacked them on the arm with a wooden spoon as she herded Ron and the twins outside. Hermione laughed as she added some salt. She was staying for the summer as her parents were on a dentist's only retreat in London. It was unavoidable not to go so the Weasleys aided with an invitation to stay at their house for the summer.

Hermione sliced potatoes as she reminisced about the past summers. Ron ran wheezing into the kitchen once more.

"gasp I think, gasp they're gone... Hey, stew!" He panted, grabbing for the pot with a spoon. Hermione slapped his hand, saying, "That's for dinner, NOT now."

"Jeez Hermione, you're turning into my mum. One more week and you're going to start ironing my knickers."

"Oh that's gross Ron, and I am not going to iron your knickers. I'm just helping out because your mother had the compassion to welcome me to her house when I had nowhere to go, Ronald."

Ron winced, "That was uncalled for..."

"I know." She smiled. Ron grinned. Everyone was happy. Then the pot bubbled over onto their feet and the died.

"Ah! I forgot to stir! And the rest of the ingredients!" Hermione cried, franticly trying to add all of the spices and herbs together into the pot, while Ron looked on saying calmly "I don't know Hermione, are you going to pass Potions class like this?"

"Oh shut up Ron, this was YOUR fault. If you hadn't bothered me, this wouldn't have happened." She snapped. Her brow sweating as she dropped numerous bottles of herbs on the knotty wooden floor.

Ron just skipped away.

Hermione mixed the contents of the black pot as she read from the dusty cookbook.

"One tablespoon of salt wit- Ahhhh!!!!!" She screamed. The radio had just turned onto an earsplitting rendition of the Weird Sisters song "She Gave Me Her Potion and Left"

Hermione tumbled around the kitchen trying to turn off the radio manually when she knocked one of the bottles of herbs into the stew. Ginny emerged right after Hermione grasped the weathered radio and turned it off.

"Sorry, George hurled a gnome at the radio." She turned, running off shouting, "That was a foul!"

Hermione sighed and turned to the pot only to see that a small glass bottle had tumbled into the simmering stew. "Oh no, not the parsley!" She cried as she picked the bottle out with forks.

"Ugh, oh well, it's only parsley..." Hermione said, throwing the little bottle away and mixing the contents into the stew.

"It's not like it'll hurt anybody."

Mrs. Weasley walked in from whence she came and started to stir the pot with the wooden spoon.

"Hmmm, what are these little green specks? Doesn't seem like something I put in potato stew..." She squinted at the contents. "Oh well, I'm sure it's nothing the boys won't be able to stand. I swear they have iron stomachs." All the while, Hermione stood by, whistling while she wiped the floor and picked up the dropped glass bottles.

The residents of the Burrow all gathered at the picnic table and Mrs. Weasley was passing out the steaming plates of pot pie, baked apples and bowls of stew to the hungry witches and wizards. Ron gaped intently at the masses of food that were set before him. He gripped his fork tightly and tilted toward the plate of stew.

'Honestly Ron, are you going to pass out or drool?" Hermione remarked from across the table.

"Really, stop staring and help!" Ginny said under the huge mound of pot pie.

Ron blankly took the plate and set it down in front of him.

"Finally, all right boys! Dig in!" Mrs. Weasley announced. Everybody rushed to the plates and bowls to add some to their own as if their life depended on it.

Ron gulped down his steaming stew like it was pumpkin juice out of his ceramic bowl.

"Seconds?" He asked Hermione as she ladled her parsley peppered stew into her own bowl. She stared at him frostily.

"Honestly, can you keep your ravenous mouth closed until after everyone has served themselves?"

"Ron! Mind your manners!"

"Leave some for ourselves you clod."

"Language Ginny."

"Sorry Dad."

"Make sure you don't get fat Ron. You might lose your manly charms, oh! I forgot you didn't have any."

"That was the most pathetic diss I have ever heard of."

A chorus of criticism rang around everyone's head's until it died away.

"Well, excuse me for being hungry. I haven't had breakfast or lunch," said Ron with a full mouth and faltering tones.

"Alright now, let's just enjoy the food," said Mrs. Weasley.

Everyone dug into the mouth-watering comfort food and nobody spoke for the first ten minutes until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley started talking about the Ministry work Arthur had been doing which promptly sent Mr. Weasley into a flurry about the toilet trappers he had found in the Ministry loo's.

"I swear Molly, they trap you onto the toilet and to make it let you go, you required to perform a hex from "Hexes for the Marvelous Mage." The person who implanted those had no imagination whatsoever for his sales." He continued talking about the goings on about the Ministry until Mrs. Weasley declared that they would go out to visit Fred and George's shop to see if it was doing well. They had recently acquired reports that vandals had tried to sabotage their supplies of fake wands. The Weasleys also wanted to see them in Saint Mungo's to see how badly they had taken with the twin's automatic intruder apparatus...

A majority decided to go but Hermione said that she would stay and a pale faced Ron announced that he was feeling a bit queasy and he would stay in his room for awhile. Everybody threw the Floo Power into the ashy fireplace one by one until Mrs. Weasley was left.

She turned to Hermione worriedly and asked, "Hermione dear, would you watch over Ron a bit? He looks a tad peakier then he said he was..." She trailed off. Mrs. Weasley tossed the Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped into it. Hermione could hear her muttering to herself about diseases and allergies as she disappeared within the flickering emerald-green flames.

Hermione shrugged, assuming to herself that Ron should be fine.

It was about thirty minutes later when Hermione found herself at the foot of Ron's bed. His face was pale as death and she could hear him slightly shivering.

"R-r-ron? Are you okay? Tell me what's wrong. Is it your stomach? What happened?" She asked him franticly. He feebly shook his head under the plaid covers through-out her frenzied interrogation like a dead ferret.

"Okay, let's just... find out what happened to him... Yes, this is a problem to be solved like... like in Ancient Runes! Yes, this is just a problem..." Hermione muttered to herself; her hair whipping around her face as she paced around Ron's vivid orange room.

It seemed like his stomach was troubling him from the way he was tightly clutching his abdomen.

"Ron, did you eat anything bad? What did you eat for dinner?" She asked him.

"I dunno, only the soup... and the pie...maybe the apples..." He answered, the volume of his voice fading all the while. "What was in the stew?" He asked, lifting his head up slightly. "I bet you poisoned it. You hate me don't you?" Ron whined.

"Nothing rotten was put into it, Ron! I'm sure of it. I made the stew. It only had potatoes, some greens, salt, and pepper..." She gasped.

"Oh no... I accidentally knocked some parsley into it when the gnome hit the radio!"

Ron dropped his onto the pillow.

"The parsely? Oh no, I knew this seemed like it..." Ron groaned. He glowered at Hermione with death in his vengeful eyes. 0.0 The Tellytubbies could have done a better death glare.

"What? What is it?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"I'm allergic to parsley. And my throat doesn't swell up; I get all the symptoms of stomach flu. You know, that Muggle virus. Only mum knows what to do. Something with a spell I suppose. I was eight when I ate some parsley and got the effects." He moaned with his arm propped on his head. "I suppose you can't reach her now. Mum will probably stay at Fred and George's shop for awhile... What do I do????" Ron cried.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry. Do you get seriously sick? What happens?" Hermione grilled him for details.

"No, I don't get seriously sick. I...vomit a bit... And I get a fever." Ron sheepishly stated. "I probably have to stay in my bed for awhile... NO, I do not die. You're overreacting."

"Oh, I suppose, sorry. Anyway, I guess that we're going to have to cure you the muggle way." She smiled wickedly.

He brought the sheets up to his nose. "W-what's the muggle way?" He whispered, petrified.

"C'mon, just let it out. You're supposed to. Just...Let it out!"

Ron weakly lifted his face from the toilet but retched into it again. Ron was crouching on the bathroom floor with Hermione aiding him and his road to health. She was holding back Ron's shaggy crimson hair and patting his back as he was submitting violently to the parsley in his stomach.

He whimpered, saying "This is worse then that time with the slug hex I put on myself... And WHAT is with the muggle way? Do they let you suffer like this for everything?" Ron held the edges of his checkered robe rigidly to his chest.

"Ron, I was joking. I suppose if your throat doesn't close up, you'll be fine. Really, you're acting like a wimp."

"I believe you're not the one to say that, man hater."

"I am not a misandrist, Ron."

"That's what they all say." He mumbled sullenly, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Are you feeling better?" Hermione asked Ron.

"Mmhmgfhg." He replied, his spoon in his mouth.

Hermione was currently on the porch with Ron, eating vanilla ice cream together that Mrs. Weasley had made the other day. The cool creamy treat had dripped from their cones to their mouths in a matter of seconds. Not to mention the setting and amazing sunset really set the mood. .

"So, you didn't die... Glad that didn't happen." Hermione smiled faintly at the emerging fireflies that flitted around the garden.

"Yea-up, I guess that'll be the end of this incident. Man, I hated having these allergies." Ron leaned backwards and rested his hands on the splintery russet porch floor. He changed his tartan robe to indigo jeans and a tattered t-shirt; you know, normal clothes.

"Hated? So what makes you not hate it now? I mean, look at what happened to you today, I had to rub your back and everything." Her cheeks turned scarlet. Rub his back? Hermione finally realized how touchy feely she had been for the last few hours. No matter, Ron was her friend. She had helped him when he was sick...and...stuff...

Hermione could feel her last grip of reason slip away like the soft summer wind.

Ron grinned slightly, turning his head to face her.

"Exactly, I had you with me."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened and her already scarlet cheeks turned a shade brighter.

Ron came ever closer and closer.

Her heart thumped madly in her chest.

He wiped off a globule of ice cream dribbling from her lip.

"You had something on your lip."


Hermione laughed tensely, glad he hadn' know...kissed her.

She sighed, telling herself that she should be relieved that he hadn't but somewhere in the back of her mind, Hermione knew she wasn't.

Why Ron out of all the guys in Hogwarts? She thumped her head with her palm. Hermione turned to talk to Ron, to remind herself of their simple FRIENDship.

She felt a soft peck on her lips.

Hermione opened her eyes to look at Ron and saw his face turn bright red. She felt her cheek gently with her quivering fingers.

She smiled gently. He grinned nervously back.

"You had...something on your...lip...too."