And now, presenting to you...my very first HARRY POTTER FANFICTION! *musical fanfare*

Hi all, and thanks for giving this story a go...i'm sorry this chapter is so atrociously short, I had intended to have it as one half of a chapter, but the second half kinda went a bit nuts and i decided it needed to be a chapter on its own...which was all very well, except now this chapter is barely 1000 words :S
But believe me, the next one will be longer...much longer...yeah :P

As much as i wish it were true, i dont own Harry Potter :(

Enjoy!

Hermione tapped gently against the wooden door, and poked her head through the frame. She spotted Ron, sitting on his bed decorated with Chudley Cannons covers, and leaning against the wall beside it. He beckoned her over, and she quickly shut the door behind her as she entered the room. A few sporadically placed candles lit the room, giving it a warm and cosy glow, but the light was quite contrary to what either Ron or Hermione were feeling.

She quietly moved across the room, stepping around various discarded belongings on the floor, before perching herself gently on the corner of Ron's bed. Her eyes were quickly searching the room, but her stomach dropped with disappointment when they fell upon their target.

'Pig still isn't back?' She gestured half-heartedly at the empty owl cage in the corner by the window, and Ron shook his head with a sigh. They had sent the little owl almost three days ago, and were still yet to hear anything back.

Hermione's eyes wandered from Pig's empty cage around the room, over clumps of discarded clothes, precariously stacked piles of magazines and books, a broomstick leaning in one corner against the wall, over to his crowded desk, where they fell on a moving wizard photograph. Worry gripped her heart as she looked at the image, and she bit her lip as she thought of the cause. The Harry in the photo before her was laughing, one arm slung over the shoulders of the photo version of herself, while the image of Ron stood behind them both pulling faces. But despite having three moving people in the photo, her eyes only focused on Harry.

No one had heard from him since the end of their previous year at Hogwarts; not one letter, not a single owl, nothing. They were more than a month into their holidays; the longest Harry had ever stayed at the Dursleys' home since meeting the Weasleys. And it wasn't for lack of trying; Ron, Mr Weasley and -even though the other Weasleys were unaware- Ginny had all sent invitations to Harry to join them at their home, but so far none were answered. Hermione herself had, after receiving permission from Ron's parents, sent an invitation to Harry through the muggle mailing system, but all to no avail. The Order had posted guards, as they always did, to watch over Harry and ensure that no dark wizard came near him, but they rarely ever saw him outside the house.

Ron and Hermione had learned, from various eavesdropped conversations between Mr and Mrs Weasley, that the Ministry of Magic were keeping the Order on a very tight reign. They agreed to let them watch over Harry, to protect him from a magical point of view, but they were adamantly refusing to allow them to interfere with the Muggle family without substantial evidence that something was amiss.

Finally, Ron and Hermione had had enough. They had written a desperately frank letter to their friend, expressing their concern, accompanied with a plea for some form of response. Pig was yet to return, which was another cause for anxiety, but in a bid to stay positive, they were hoping it was just because Harry was taking his time to write a long reply. But by now, after three long days, their optimism was beginning to fade.

Hermione sighed and shuffled further onto the bed, leaning against the wall next to Ron. He glanced down at her face, his worried eyes checking to see if she was feeling the same way that he was. Seeing his own concern mirrored in his friend's eyes, he gently draped his lanky arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. She rested her head against his shoulder, trying to take comfort from the friendly contact.

'Do you think he's okay?' She asked in a quiet voice, her eyes looking glumly down at a loose thread from the bedspread she was twirling between her fingers.

'Yeah, 'course he is. He's been through so much, I'm sure staying a few extra weeks with his Muggle family won't cause him too much strain.'

'But why hasn't he written back?'

'I'm sure its just his uncle, stopping the owls from getting to him or something…you know how paranoid Harry says they get about wizards and the like…' Ron's voice trailed off, but even as the words passed over his lips they both knew how unlikely that was. They fell into silence as Ron tried in vain to think of some way to comfort his friend other than the false phrases he'd been repeating for the last few days whenever this conversation arose. When no words came to mind, he simply took her hand in his, rubbing smooth circles across the skin with his thumb. Her eyes darted down to where they were connected, but once the initial shock passed she sighed in an almost contented fashion and moved in closer to his side.

He soon heard her breath slow, and within minutes she was asleep in his arms. A small, fond smile twitched his lips as he looked down at her peaceful face. Not being able to find it in his heart to wake her and tell her to go back to her own room, he instead gently lowered her down until they lay against his pillows. Glancing at the lit candles, he quietly clicked his fingers, and at the sound the enchanted lights flickered out. He gave one glance out the window, checking the horizon for any signs of an owl returning home, but when nothing disrupted the stillness he lay back down next to his friend and drifted off into a light sleep.

I hope that was enough to capture your attention...

Please don't get me wrong, this story is primarily going to be friendship/angsty goodness, not all fluffy ron/hermione, but as i said some of the angst was going to make an appearance in this chapter but it got so long i needed to split it up

id absolutely LOVE a review, it always without fail makes me write faster and better, so if you want to hear of the ensuing Harry angst, write me a review!

thanks a billion for reading!