The First Year

Swimming Upstream

George stood by the kitchen door and took a deep breath. Meals were still the worst time of the day. Even more than falling asleep, and waking up, which when George allowed himself to think about it, struck him as highly ironic, since they had slept in the same room since birth. Molly had even told them they had to sleep in the same cot, because they cried when separated. He pushed the door open, and slid into a chair, across from Harry. George gazed at him curiously. Harry usually joined the family a few times a week for meals. Most of the time it was just dinner. And Harry stayed long enough to be polite, ate a few bites of whatever it was that Molly put on his plate, then with a near-inaudible whisper, excused himself. George knew he had to be eating something when everyone else was asleep. But whatever it was he ate, it wasn't enough. He's always been a scrawny git, but this is getting out of hand...

Ron clattered into the kitchen. He had come inside and run upstairs, looking like he had wrestled a troll, five minutes earlier. Hermione had followed him, looking rather disheveled herself. Ron dropped into a chair, running a hand through his damp hair. George squinted at him. A small purple mark graced Ron's collarbone, partially hidden by the collar of his shirt. George raised an eyebrow at Ron's attire. Ron normally only wore button-down shirts when he had to, and he was voluntarily wearing one now. George reached over and hooked a finger into the collar of Ron's shirt. 'What's that mark on you?' he asked.

'Nothing,' Ron muttered, jerking the shirt from George's grasp. Hermione sat next to Ron, her hair tamed into a plait, wearing a clean shirt. They carefully avoided looking at each other, but Ron leaned over and whispered something to her. Hermione peered at the skin under the shirt collar.

'I'll fix it after dinner,' she promised in a low voice. Ron looked relieved, and shot George a look.

'Fix what?' Molly asked, trying to look at Ron's collarbone.

'Nothing, Mum,' Ron said irritably, trying to avoid the inevitable barrage of questions from his mother.

'Ron ripped his shirt earlier,' Hermione lied smoothly, her cheeks turning pink. 'It was my fault. I tripped.'

Ginny, who had just taken a swallow of pumpkin juice, began to cough. She gave her friend a look. 'And your mouth landed on his neck?' she muttered. Ron and Hermione both gave her wide-eyed looks. But Molly hadn't heard the comment. Ron had left the top two buttons undone in a concession to the heat, but did up one more. He gave Ginny a rude hand gesture he masked, by running his hand through his hair. Ginny just rolled her eyes.

It was a relief for Ron when they were able to escape to the front garden after dinner. Hermione touched his skin with the tip of her wand and whispered, 'Episkey.' The mark faded in a few seconds. 'Sorry about that,' she murmured shyly. 'Guess I got carried away.' She lowered herself to the bench next to Ron, wincing slightly.

'Did I hurt you?' he asked anxiously.

'Not really. I mean I sort of expected it to...'

'Sorry...' Ron laced his hands together and tucked them between his knees. 'I didn't mean to. You probably think I'm a pig going after you like that.'

Hermione shoved his shoulder. 'There were two of us involved, you know.'

'I suppose...'

'If I didn't want to...' Hermione blushed and made a vague gesture. 'You know...' She coughed. 'I wouldn't have.'

'Right...' Ron flushed so brightly, Hermione fancied she could feel the heat radiating from Ron's skin. 'You don't regret it, do you?' he asked apprehensively.

'No.'

Ron released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. 'You really never kissed Krum?'