Back to You

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Ron Weasley drowsily wondered for a moment just what exactly the punishment would be if he shoved his Potions textbook up Madame Pince's arse. He just wanted her to stop walking for a few bloody moments so he could get some sleep and he reckoned if that heavy book was up there, she wouldn't be able to walk anymore. He was sure that Madame Pomfrey would be able to remove it and even if he was prosecuted, he was sure that Hermione would be able to mount a strong defense for him.

Although he shouldn't be so complimentary to Hermione; she was the reason that he had been so tired lately. He hadn't gotten back into his normal sleeping cycle after the Christmas holidays. Since Harry and Hermione had been there, they would stay up rather late but he would still get up by at least eight o'clock every morning. He usually used the holidays to catch up on sleep but when he realized that Hermione got up at seven o'clock every morning, he found himself waking up early as well. He didn't know why, but there was something oddly invigorating about spending time alone with Hermione. He had also started to notice how people in Grimmauld Place had taken up watching the two of them an awful lot. He reckoned he knew what they suspected was going on but he wasn't going to think about it. It just wasn't possible that he fancied Hermione--she was his best friend. But whatever the reason was, Hermione was the sole reason he rose out of bed early every morning of the holidays. The only pitfall to the new routine was that he was sorely in need of some more sleep.

He knew he should be more alert especially since Harry was off at his first Occlumency lesson and would undoubtedly want to talk about it afterwards. Ron scowled--or thought he scowled; he was too tired to tell. The idea of private lessons with Snape was murder for him and Snape didn't even have a private vendetta for him. Snape, no matter what Hermione said, was a greasy git who Harry shouldn't have to be forced to spend any extra time with.

Stupid bastard, Ron thought sleepily as his eyes finally drooped shut. His mind instantly wandered and he found himself dancing a tango with Snape in the library while Hermione stood by giggling and pointing. Ron tried desperately to pull away but Snape murmured something in a seductive tone...oh Merlin, why was Snape trying to seduce him...and held tight. Hermione just laughed even harder, her hands flailing out in her uncontained laughter and somehow flew all the way across the room to swat him in the ribs.

Ow!

. He jerked awake with an undignified snort, and looked about the room in disoriented confusion. Thank Merlin it had been just a dream. Or most of it--the slap had been very real.

"Ron, please!" Hermione scolded under her breath, tilting her head warningly towards the Madame Pince, who was shooting a disgruntled glance their way. He didn't know which was worse: the memory of Snape dancing with him or the glare he was getting from Hermione for falling asleep.

Ron muttered an apology while he straightened up in his seat and resumed scratching away on his parchment. They were working on some essay...Ron scratched his ear...it might help if he had actually written something to indicate to him what on earth he was supposed to be writing about. He wanted to ask Hermione but he didn't want to appear like an idiot not to mention the lecture he would get. He suppressed a sigh; maybe he should just fall asleep again.

He continued to stare down at the parchment, willing a memory of what he had been writing about. He heard Hermione sigh as she leaned back in her chair. "I'll be back," she whispered. Ron nodded without even looking up so she wouldn't see a small smile that had crossed his face--he could sneak a peak at her essay while she was gone.

He counted to ten in his head as he heard her footsteps pad away, glancing up to make sure she wasn't looking in his direction before pulling the essay towards him. Ah, DADA, he remembered as he scanned the essay. It wouldn't hurt to read the cleverest witch in the history of Hogwarts' essay and use it as a starting point--it wasn't as if he was copying her essay.

He skimmed the eloquently written passage as fast as he could before positioning back exactly as it was and glanced up to make sure that Hermione hadn't noticed his transgression. He instinctively froze however at the scene before him. Hermione was in the Defense section, in clear view of him, and so was Terry Boot, who was leaning to the side, arm raised as he leaned against the bookshelf. He had this smug, pompous air about him that made Ron want to hurl--it reminded him of Percy. What were they talking about? Terry looked rather nervous about something and Hermione looked embarrassed. Without thinking, Ron's hand plunged into his school bag and pulled out the Extendable Ear Fred and George had gave him for Christmas. The twins had trained him well--he didn't even have to think twice about how to make this work. He folded his arm on the table, resting the one end of the Ear on the table and laying his head over it while the flesh-colored string trailed off the table, into his lap, and off towards Hermione and Terry. Now it appeared that he was asleep but he was really listening to every word of their conversation.

"So, anyway, Hermione," Terry cleared his throat, "I was wondering if you would like to go into Hogsmeade with me."

Oh bugger--the prat was asking her out?

"Oh, Terry, that's really sweet of you," Hermione began.

"...but you'd rather not," Terry finished for her.

Ron sighed with relief into his arms. Who would want to go out with that idiot? He couldn't believe that Terry Boot was stupid enough to think that someone like Hermione Granger would go out with him.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said simply.

"I figured this might happen." Terry admitted.

"How did you know?" Hermione inquired.

Because you're too good for me, Ron thought for Terry.

"I am in Ravenclaw," Terry replied with a trace of pompousness. "I should have known better than go after one of Harry Potter's girls."

Ron jerked slightly--people actually called Hermione one of Harry's girls? Even he wasn't that stupid and this bloke was supposed to be in Ravenclaw?

"Excuse me?" Hermione said sharply. "I am not anyone's girl."

Ron grinned. That's my girl, he thought proudly. Hermione didn't take any crap from anyone. He briefly wondered if she was going to hit Terry--he certainly wanted to. He was tempted to lift his head and take a peek; he always enjoyed it when Hermione decked someone he didn't like. But he forced himself to stay down.

"Of course not," Terry stumbled hastily. "I just--I--well, I guess I'm not so smart after all," he finally got out.

Oh, bullshit, Ron thought furiously. Hermione wouldn't buy that load of crap after she had to put up with that arrogant attitude for the past five minutes. He was surprised she hadn't walked away by now. He knew Hermione and she was undoubtedly thinking about her DADA essay and forcing conversation with Terry simply because she was too polite to walk away. Maybe he should pretend to need help with something so she could come back sooner.

"You are smart," Hermione contradicted. Ron raised his eyebrows; he knew that tone of voice. It was the placating one she had used to reassure him on countless occasions. She actually believed git! "It's nothing you did at all. You're a wonderful person, and if things were different, then I would go out with you in a heartbeat. I really am sorry,"

Ron let out the breath he was unconsciously holding. Even if she did buy his load of crap, she still wasn't going to go out with Terry.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it." Terry told her.

"Thanks. And of course I'd be happy to keep studying Arithmancy with you."

So that's where she had been those nights!

"I really didn't need the extra help with Arithmancy," Terry admitted sheepishly.

Ron's eyes narrowed. So that had been Boot's game--play the dunce to get the girl's attention and then when he thought he had her affection, made his move. What a wanker.

"I figured," Hermione said in her embarrassed voice. Ron was willing to bet ten Galleons that she was blushing; he couldn't believe she was being taken in by all of this.

"See? You really should have been sorted into Ravenclaw." Terry returned wryly. They both laughed quietly and Ron rolled his eyes. What bullshit--Hermione was never meant for Ravenclaw; she had always been intended for Gryffindor to be with him. Ron groaned quietly into his arm. Don't think things like that!

"Thanks," Hermione repeated.

"My pleasure," Terry returned.

"Well, I better get back."

About bloody time, Ron thought with a mixture of bitterness and anger. He jerked when he suddenly remembered that he had to clean up after his eavesdropping escapade. He quickly yanked on the string of the Ear, keeping his arms under the table. He coiled up the string in his hand and kept his head down under the pretense of being asleep. Now the only problem would be if Hermione caught him. Ron wasn't actually sure if he wanted her to find out or not--if she did find out, he could ask her a thing or two about that Boot bastard.

Clunk!

The toe of Hermione's Mary Jane painfully rammed itself into his shin. "Ouch!" Ron moaned as he jerked upwards. He hoped his face didn't covey his guilt and anger over what had just happened and she would believe that he had fallen asleep again. Madame Pince instantly shushed them, and Ron scowled while leaning forward to rub his now sore leg. "What the hell did you do that for?" he demanded, feigning oblivion.

"You shouldn't be asleep," Hermione hissed.

Ron gave her one last glare. She didn't know--he was in the clear although it did mean that he couldn't interrogate her about Boot. Hopefully, she wouldn't talk to him for a bit while he calmed down--he had a feeling if she did, he would explode and demand to know everything. So all he did was obediently pick up his quill again and both he and she resumed their work. His essay wrote much more quickly since he now knew what he was writing about and had read the epitome of a good essay on the subject just a few moments ago. He however kept making stupid mistakes since he kept thinking about Boot's clumsy efforts to seduce Hermione. He was also rather put out that Hermione hadn't mentioned it to him--if Boot was bothering her, she should have told him about it. He would have taken care of it for her; did she trust him? And then there was a disturbing concept of maybe there were others who were going after his Hermione. He had already asked her about Zacharias and then there was still Viktor bloody Krum. Even if she told him a million times that she wasn't interested in them, he was still going to worry about it because they were interested in her. Who wouldn't be interested in Hermione? She couldn't turn all of them down and besides, what if one of them wouldn't take no for an answer?

No, Ron thought as he had to scratch out another incorrect sentence, better to keep an eye on her and incur her wrath rather than have something happen to her. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was writing intently, looking every now and then over at the book she had retrieved. She was obviously very pleased with her essay since she had a satisfied air about her along with that smile of hers that often made Ron smile back or rack his brain to think of something clever so the grin would never go away.

Yeah, he was definitely going to continue to keep an eye on that girl.

**

Ron however didn't expect to be forced to keep a very close on eye on her the very next day. One of the things that really drove him crazy about Hermione was that once she became absorbed in a task or an idea, she was so involved that she forgot to tell people about what she was doing. After that article in the Daily Prophet about the Azkaban breakout, Hermione had gotten that weird funny look, muttered to herself about something, and then just run out with any explanation whatsoever. He hated when she did that. She had done it more times than Ron could count and after worrying about her last night to mention all of the other shit they had to worry about lately, he was a bit more irritated at her actions than usual.

Luckily, he had managed to contain himself until they were patrolling together later that night. "Where the hell did you run off to this morning?" he demanded at the earliest opportunity.

"Ron, please," Hermione begged with a roll of her eyes. "Do we have to talk about this now?"

"Yes," Ron insisted stubbornly. He hadn't fretted all day to be told to wait for several more days for clarification and reassurance.

"If this worries you so much, why didn't you ask me sooner?" Hermione pointed out.

Ron gritted his teeth with annoyance; it was just like Hermione to voice out loud something he had just been thinking about. "I didn't want to bring it up in front of Harry because he has enough to worry about right now."

"Why would me running off worry him?" Hermione asked.

"Because you acted all batty!" Ron insisted. "I hate when you just get that weird look on your face and just take off!"

"It's called thinking, Ron, you might want to try it sometime," Hermione replied.

Hermione was starting to get nasty--a clear sign that he needed to move fast before she started yelling. "Hermione!" Ron snapped, taking two long strides to block her path. "Just tell me!"

"Look, Ron, I don't want to say anything until I'm certain that this is going to work," Hermione explained. "I have an idea about how to improve Harry's image in the media, but it depends on some certain things, and I promise I'll tell you once I know everything, but not now, alright?"

Ron continued to eye her suspiciously. He could tell that she was telling the truth--Hermione had never been able to lie to him convincingly. He could always just sense it from her; he assumed it was because she was such an honest, real person that she had trouble deceiving people, although she was great whenever they planned the deception out. But if she had to lie on the spot, she was plain awful. She wasn't lying now, but Ron still had to make sure. Besides, she could have done whatever she just claimed and then went to do something else. He hadn't seen her for a while after her abrupt departure. "Is that what you really did?"

"Of course it is," Hermione looked appalled that he would even have to ask. "What else would I have done?"

Ron shrugged, hoping he appeared casual. She couldn't know that he had been thinking about this for quite some time. "Seen a friend." Or friends he added in his mind. There were so many people who would love to be with Hermione that he had to ask so he knew which bloke to keep a sharp eye on.

Ron knew he was going into potentially dangerous territory after that big row they had before Christmas, but they had to go though. He was going to go mad if he didn't know with all of this other crap that was going on. Hagrid's probation was weighing rather heavily on Ron's mind not to mention the going-ons in the Ministry and Bode's murder. The world was not a pleasant place right now and Ron was going to fight to make sure that at least one aspect of his life was perfect which meant keeping an eye on Hermione. The trouble was that Hermione didn't like being watched over so he had to do it surreptitiously. He however had just blown his cover and now he had to face the consequences.

Hermione's exhaustion, however, was apparent the moment he had laid eyes on her that afternoon and for once she was too drained to carry on with one of their classic rows. "Ron," she said with forced calm, her fist clenched at her side. "I'm not in the mood to deal with a jealous rage right now. So drop it."

Ron met her eyes. She was so tired. Come to think of it, he was so tired. Today had been exhausting--the whole year had been exhausting. So much was changing so he and Hermione had both reverted to what they did back: arguing. It was their way to achieve normality in their lives again. Plus, they were very good at bickering. In fact, at times, when Ron went home for the summer and get into rows with his family, he would find himself winning all too easily and wanting a challenge for once. There was nothing as invigorating as arguing with Hermione. He however just didn't have the energy for it. Not today.

Ron let out a long breath and stepped out of Hermione's way so they could continue patrolling. They didn't say another word throughout the rest of the patrol, but he found it oddly peaceful. Just being around Hermione soothed him. It was weird--she often got him so riled up; no one got him as crazy as Hermione did, but at the same time, she could be such a calming, contented presence. She was everything; she was always exactly what he needed at the particular moment. Even Harry didn't have that gift and Harry was the best mate that anyone could ask for. Maybe that's why he got so stirred up and jealous whenever she gave another bloke any attention. He wanted her to himself.

Son of a bitch, he moaned to himself as he realized something. He hated that Hermione was always, always right and once again, she had been: he really was jealous of the Viktors, the Terry Boots, and the Zacharias Smiths who would undoubtedly always be in her life.

Now, whether or not that meant he actually fancied the girl was something else. Yes, he had those jealous feelings and he thought she was the prettiest girl in school and he had given her perfume for Christmas and there were countless other things that seemed to indicate that his feelings of her were not purely platonic. But he had to certain--he was not about to ruin his friendship with Hermione by confessing feelings that he really didn't have towards her. He would have to make sure.

He jammed his hands heavily into his pockets as he and Hermione approached the portrait hole. He would have to think about it really carefully but he also knew that once he figured it out, he wouldn't be able to keep in any longer. He would end up telling her. He suppressed the urge to sigh as Hermione gave the Fat Lady the password; looked like he and Hermione could be changing after all.

**

Of course, it didn't. He had yet to concoct a plan in order to find out if his feelings for Hermione really were more than friendship and one thing Hermione had taught him was to always have a plan.

A few days before Valentine's Day, however, an idea finally presented itself to him. He was eating dinner with Harry and Hermione and Harry had brought up the fact that he would be spending the Hogsmeade trip with Cho Chang. Hermione had appeared quite excited that Harry had a date for Valentine's Day. And that's when it had hit him--he had been planning to go to Hogsmeade with his two best friends, but now that Harry would be gone all day, it would be just him and Hermione. It was the perfect cover to talk to her and try to sort things out.

He had then tried to casually discover if Hermione already had plans with one of her potential suitors. Although she had been rather vague about what she wanted to do that day, she had made it clear that she hadn't made a date with anyone. She had given him a rather odd look at his questions but hopefully he had dissipated any suspicion she had.

Now all that was left was to figure out what the bloody hell they would be doing. He had to have some sort of idea--not that it was a date or anything, but if it was a date, it was the boy's obligation to plan this sort of thing out. He needed to talk to someone about it and he wasn't about to go to Harry about the matter so he could only think of one other person. Well, two actually, since with one usually went the other. He put it off until the day before the Hogsmeade excursion. Hermione fortunately went up to bed rather early, leaving Ron free to slip over to their table.

Fred Weasley raised his eyebrows. "May we help you?"

Ron glanced edgily over his shoulder just in case Hermione had for some reason returned to the common room. "Yeah--uh--I need to ask you something."

"You alright, Ronnikins?" George inquired, still busying himself with the Skiving Snackboxes they were working on.

"Ah, I know what this is about," Fred spoke before Ron could answer George. Ron had just glanced over his shoulder again in obvious trepidation. "You want to place an order, don't you? You just can't in front of your little girlfriend."

"Oh, right," George said happily as he pulled out an order form. "Fill this out and your order will be processed as soon as possible..."

"No, no, that's not it," Ron contradicted, clutching the order form. He paused slightly as he looked down at the sheet. "You wouldn't give me a discount? I'm family!"

"On the contrary," Fred said happily, "we'd actually would overcharge you." He snatched the form away from Ron so a real customer would be able to use it. "Why are you here, little brother--we don't have all day."

Ron glanced about one more time and lowered his voice. "Iwazwunderinkifunew..."

"Speak up, mate!" Fred ordered loudly. "What's the matter--you don't want people to hear?"

Ron glared at him. Fred was speaking so loudly he was surprised that the dead didn't come knocking on the portrait hole to request that Fred shut his loud mouth so they could rest in peace.

"I was wondering where a good place to take a girl on Valentine's Day would be," Ron hissed in a rush. He then looked quickly around to make sure no one overheard--mercifully, no one did.

"Ah, so the little girlfriend is involved," George said gleefully with a chuckle.

"She's not my girlfriend," Ron reminded him for the millionth time.

"And who are you taking to Hogsmeade tomorrow, Pansy Parkinson?" Fred asked with mock innocence.

Ron pulled a disgusted face before sheepishly answered. "Hermione," he admitted. "And I'm not taking her--I mean, yeah, we're going together and all but that's it!"

Fred laughed even harder. "Yeah, sure, Ron, she's just your friend," he said in a tone that clearly indicated he didn't believe a word his brother was saying.

George on the other hand took the request a bit more seriously. "Well, if you want to get her something, I'd say go to the bookstore since this is Hermione we're talking about," he turned a blank order form over and retrieved his quill. "And if you," George drew a rough outline of Hogsmeade and its surrounding areas with quick strokes of the quill, "follow this path," he indicated it with the top of his quill, "there'll be a fork in the road. Take the one on the left--the one on the right has a dead tree in the middle of it that's been there for ages. With all that snow out there, she won't want to climb over that. The left arcs around and brings you right back to the village. With all the snow, it'll be quite romantic out there all by yourself," George explained suggestively.

Ron, however, was less enthusiastic about George's suggestion. "So just take her for a walk?" Ron asked skeptically. "That's your brilliant scheme?"

"Well, if it was us, we would have something delightfully clever," Fred said cheerfully. "But we can't be giving all of our brilliant ideas to you."

George clapped his brother on the back. "You can think of something on your own," George said encouragingly. "But I reckon a walk will suit Hermione just fine,"

"Yeah, walks are great," Fred said gleefully before abruptly thinking of something. "Did I feel you what I've got planned for Angelina," Fred confided happily to his brothers. Both George and Ron leaned forward eagerly but before Fred could divulge, Angelina herself stormed into the common room. She briskly surveyed the room before marching over to the three brothers.

"Weasley," she said tersely to Ron. "We've got the pitch tomorrow at ten o'clock. Be there."

Ron opened his mouth to protest, but Fred beat him to it. "In the morning?" Fred said in disbelief. "But it's Valentine's Day!"

The stern, almost manic gleam Angelina got in her eyes whenever she talked Quidditch diminished for a moment as she glanced over at Fred. She softened when she realized that he had made plans for the two of them. Her practically won out, however, and she shook her head. "Too bad--we all had plans but now we're going to have to change them. If we want to even stand a chance to win the Cup, some of us are going to have to improve a great deal." Her eyes bored meaningfully into Ron before she brushed past to find the other players.

"Bloody Quidditch!" Fred pounded his fist angrily into the tabletop.

Ron never would have used those two words in the same sentence since Quidditch was the best sport under the sun, but now he certainly agreed. He did not fancy the idea of giving up his entire Valentine's Day to be yelled at by Angelina and try and fail yet again to block the Quaffle, especially since he was rather enjoying the idea of somewhat surprising Hermione. Of course it wouldn't have really been a date--but it didn't matter. Hermione would be spending Valentine's Day in Hogsmeade while he spent his in the air.

"Wow, for once I'm glad I'm off the team!" George commented. Fred and Ron both glared at him and he held up his hand in mock surrender. "Sorry, sorry--but chin up," he turned to Fred first, "we'll go check out the premises we saw the ad for last week and if we don't like it, we can start checking other advertisements." Fred looked slightly mollified since finding out his girlfriend was unavailable for the most romantic day of the year. George then turned to his youngest brother. "And Ron, at least you don't have to think of something stupidly romantic anymore."

"Like she would have liked it," Fred snorted in disbelief. "Hermione doesn't seem to be the most romantic of people--she might have ended up slapping you.

"Yeah," Ron lied as he flashed a somewhat convincing grin in their direction. First of all, Hermione would never slap him--unless he really, really deserved it. And second, no matter the benefits that may derive from his inability to go into Hogsmeade, he was still very disappointed. Despite all of his fears and doubts, the idea of spending Valentine's Day with Hermione had left a very nice, warm glow feeling about his stomach.

**

Quidditch had been hell. No, wait, no--actually, hell would be a picnic compared to Quidditch practice. Why couldn't he improve? Angelina accused him of never practicing, but Ron got on his broom everyday. Whenever he practiced on his own or with just Harry, he always did perfectly. However, if he knew there were numerous people watching him and if he had no idea who they were, it somehow became impossible to even remember which ball was the Quaffle.

He remembered a time when Quidditch had just been plain, simple fun. He would play with his brothers and his parents would come out to watch. Dad would sometimes join in, but Mum would always stay on the ground. When the game was over, she always found something positive to say about every single person who played. Bill had especially been most enthusiastic about Ron's Quidditch skills. He had been the one to teach Ron how to fly and had given Ron his first Quidditch lesson. It was from that lesson that Ron decided that he would be a Keeper. He always was delegated that position when the family played and everyone commented that he always played very well. He wasn't extraordinary like Harry but he was good enough. When he would watch Quidditch games in the stands, whenever someone scored off a Keeper, Ron would figure out inside his head exactly what had gone wrong and what the Keeper should have done to correct the situation. Harry buying him those Omninoculars had actually ended up being a godsend since he no longer had to remember every single goal for an indefinite period of time. All he had to do now was rewind and press play. He had been waiting for an opportunity to try out for the team for five years--he hadn't even wanted to make the team. He just wanted to have the opportunity to try out. Obviously he had secretly hoped to make the final cut, and when he had, it had been one of the proudest moments of his life.

But all of that had faded with the first practice. Angelina was mental, Fred and George taunted him mercilessly, and basically, he was lousy. Harry had been the only bright point about Quidditch; he had always dreamed of playing Quidditch side by side with Harry. However, now that Harry was off the team, Quidditch was awful.

Today had been even worse. He had been wet, tired, sore, and humiliated when he had slunk in for dinner. Hermione had then gone off on some girl stuff that he didn't even want to attempt to understand and although he was very curious to hear all about the interview with Rita, he had urged her to tell him later. His headache had only gone away after a bracing shower and before it had been cured, he had barely been able to concentrate on anything.

Now that his mind was clear, Ron could sense Hermione watching him worriedly. He knew that she was very concerned for him not only because she thought Quidditch was much too dangerous but because she honestly wanted him to do really well. It made him feel a bit better knowing that Hermione cared so much. But that couldn't stop him from refusing to talk about the matter. He just wanted to forget about Quidditch for the rest of the day since it had just ruined his entire morning and afternoon. He wanted his evening free for much better, more important things.

"Are you alright?" Hermione finally broke the silence with her direct question, her eyes concernedly on him. Ron wanted to tell her everything that had happened and confide in her, but pride held him back.

"Yeah," Ron said thickly, lying through his teeth.

Hermione, it appeared, wasn't buying it. "Ron, look..."

"Hermione, I don't want to talk about Quidditch right now, alright?" Ron snapped. He felt a bit guilty for sniping at her, but she should know better than to push him like this. He would have thought that she'd have learned by now not to nag--if she wanted proof of the consequences of nagging, all she had to do was look at her strained relationship with Harry.

She, fortunately, had learned her lesson and she simply nodded slightly. "Okay," Hermione said quietly. The slightly hurt expression on her face made Ron feel even worse and he wanted to tell her that he appreciated her concern, but he was rather distracted by an odd sound. He couldn't tell what it was; all he knew was that it was unusual and this corridor should be dead silent. He threw out his arm to stop Hermione from walking past the classroom in question.

"Did you hear something?"

Hermione frowned as she listened hard. "That's odd," Hermione noted, pointing towards the closed door from where the sounds originated. "Classrooms aren't normally locked at night."

Ron pulled out his wand, starting to feel somewhat nervous. Anything could be in there and after all the awful things that had been happening lately, Ron wasn't sure he wanted to take many chances especially if just he and Hermione were going up against it. "Reckon we should get McGonagall?"

"Not yet," Hermione answered. "We should check to make sure something or someone is really in there." Ron nodded, and cautiously turned the doorknob. Locked. He stepped backwards expectantly; it was time for Hermione to work her magic, literally. Hermione realized straight away what she needed to do and extracted her own wand from her robes and flicked her wrist expertly. "Alohomora!"

He heard the door click, indicated that her spell had been successful--as if it wouldn't; this was Hermione after all. Ron resumed his position in front of the door wondering briefly just what he should do next. Investigating was the only logical option although it was the one Ron wasn't too keen to pursue. He however wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. Before opening the door, he motioned for Hermione to hang back. Nothing was going to happen to her on his watch. Hermione tightened her grip on her wand and remained behind him as Ron eased the door open silently so he could poke his head inside.

"Holy shit!"

Ron goggled for a second. His eyes took in the whole scene swiftly but his dumfounded brain could only take the information in chunks: Fred. Room. Robes. Off. Angelina. They were on the floor of the classroom, positioned between the area between the first row of desks and the teacher's section. The two had been in various states of undress and both had jerked rather sharply when the door had opened. Fred's eyes had met Ron's and Ron had thought the prat was going to laugh; Angelina had just looked embarrassed.

"What? What is it?" Hermione's voice brought him back to reality and away from the scary place where his brother apparently got a lot of action. A horrible visual image just came to mind but Hermione's attempt to get into the classroom managed to catch his attention. He slammed the door shut and pushed her back at the same time before she could catch a glimpse of the scene. "Ron! What was it?"

Oh, son of a bitch, I have to tell her about this. Ron had the natural instinct to run away from Hermione's question but he managed to restrain himself. "Nothing," Ron's ears were flushed a vivid maroon and he grabbed Hermione by the wrist in an attempt to steer her away. "Let's keep going."

"That was not nothing!" Hermione insisted, trying to yank out of Ron's tight grip. Her eyes blazed with fury; she thought that he was trying to keep something from her to be cruel. Why, why did she have to be such a nosy, persistent person; honestly, the girl should be a reporter. "What the devil is going on!?"

Ron was saved from having to respond by the door creaking open although his embarrassment greatly heightened with his brother's arrival. "Settle down, Hermione, everything is fine," Fred leaned against the doorframe with his usual smirk. "Ronnie here's just a little embarrassed."

"Fred? What are you doing here?" Hermione demanded. Fred just grinned as he flatted down his strangely rumpled hair. It must have gotten mussed from being on the floor...Ron groaned internally as he realized that he was actually analyzing just how exactly his brother's hair had gotten like that, which meant that he was imagining certain positions his brother had been in, which caused a cacophony of bad, bad images in Ron's mind. Ron couldn't look at his brother and was turning an even deeper red. He was never going to hear the end of this.

"Hey, Hermione," Angelina Johnson emerged from the room as well, clasping her robes and also smoothing down her hair. Ron wished he could howl in frustration out loud--could this get any worse?

Hermione's face was now a deep scarlet as well; she must have just grasped what Fred and Angelina had been up to. "I'm so sorry," she apologized sincerely, "I had no idea. We just heard noises, and..."

"Quite all right," Fred chirped, thumping Ron on the shoulder. Ron steeled himself to be the punch line of yet another joke. "It was about time Ron learned all about the birds and the bees."

"Fred!" Ron moaned. Oh, Merlin, not this joke--he couldn't have Hermione thinking he was ignorant or something. She would lose all respect for him and Hermione's respect meant everything to him.

Fred grinned and wrapped his arm around Ron's shoulders. "Now, Ronnie, when a witch and a wizard love each other very much..."

"Fred!" Ron repeated, his face redder than his hair.

"Did you say love?" Angelina blurted out, jaw dropped.

Fred paled. "Oh shit."

"So are you in love with me, Fred Weasley," Angelina pressed, arms folded across her chest, a triumphant smile on her face. "Because I would hate for you to be telling your impressionable little brother one thing and doing another. You know I don't stand for hypocrisy."

Ron's face had turned back to normal, complete with a huge grin. Now this was more like it!

"Well?" Angelina urged. "Speak up, love!"

Fred let out a few incoherent gurgles. Ron fought the urge to snicker; he had never seen Fred so out of sorts and frankly, he was rather enjoying it. He rather hoped that Angelina and Fred would stay together for a good deal of time--it would be great fun to watch Fred like this on a more regular basis. Ron's stomach jolted slightly as he suddenly realized something: was that the reason that Fred and George tormented him so much about Hermione, because he acted as much of an idiot as Fred was acting now?

"Well, when you have finally gotten your foot out of your mouth," Angelina continued, "I'll be waiting over there," she pointed down the hall to another empty classroom. "I assume you two have already searched that room?" Both Ron and Hermione nodded vigorously. Ron personally planned on staying as far away from that room as humanly possible. He couldn't be having any more disturbing images to creep into his nightmares. "Good." Angelina sashayed off down the corridor and into the indicated room.

Fred watched her go with a surprisingly lovelorn look on his face. "She's wicked," he said under his breath.

Really, Ron drawled out in his head at the expression on his brother's face. What had Angelina done to him? He didn't understand love and all that stuff, but all he knew was that he was never going to let Fred forget this moment. "What was that?" Ron egged, jabbing him in the ribs gleefully.

"Nothing!" Fred jerked back into awareness and turned towards his little brother. "Now you two won't be telling anyone about this, will you," he wheedled. "You know that this sort of behavior happens all the time." He gestured towards the door next to the one he had emerged from. "That's Malfoy and Parkinson's spot."

"Eugh!" Ron moaned at the mental image that had unintentionally popped into his head. "Fred!" Fred shot him a quick smirk. Ron had to admit that his brother was very good at what he did--he knew exactly what to say to shut his little brother up. The thought of anyone even wanting to do things with Malfoy was enough to make Ron want to hurl. Hermione also looked appropriately disgusted at the thought of Malfoy although Ron thought he detected the wheels turning in her head, as if she was thinking very carefully about the information she had just gathered. Ron watched her for a brief moment; what was she going on about?

Fred shrugged. "If you'll excuse me," he said with a regal sweep of his robes, "I have a lady waiting." He bounded down the hall and practically dived into the classroom Angelina had disappeared into. Ron briefly wondered if Fred dove on top of other things...or other people...

Ron clapped both his hands over his eyes as another nasty visual image arose in his mind and moaned again. "I can't believe I caught my brother snogging!" He really wished that it was physically possible to wash your brain out with soap. But maybe there was--maybe Hermione knew of something; if anyone knew what to do to rid your thoughts free of disgusting images of your brother and his girlfriend--well, he hoped Hermione didn't have experience in that field, but Hermione surely knew everything. She would know what to do.

However, she still appeared to be very distracted. Ron wondered for a moment if she was going to go all batty again and run off without saying a word to him, but luckily she opened her mouth to think out loud. "Malfoy comes up here to snog?" she repeated before snapping her fingers in realization. "That's why he was here!"

"What? Malfoy's here?" Ron dropped his hands from his face and fumbled for his wand. He couldn't believe that he had missed Malfoy's arrival; he always kept a cautious eye out for that bastard especially if he was with Hermione. He never forgot that Malfoy had twice mentioned that he fancied the idea of Hermione dead and he didn't intend for Hermione to ever discover just how much Malfoy hated her. He found it hard to believe that someone could hate someone as lovely as Hermione Granger but hey, if someone was going to be that close-minded and cruel, that bastard wasn't going to get anywhere near his friends. He looked quickly about there was no sign of that awfully platinum hair.

"No, no," Hermione corrected. "He was up here one time during patrol."

Patrol? Ron's brow furrowed in thought. He remembered every single run-in with Malfoy and he always remembered every moment he spent alone with Hermione but he didn't remember a patrol being interrupted by Malfoy. "I don't remember that." Maybe he had acted like an idiot as usual and Hermione had Memory-Charmed him so he wouldn't be embarrassed.

"You weren't here," Hermione told him absently. "It was while your dad was hurt."

Ron's brow contracted even more. He hadn't even thought that Hermione would have to patrol by herself when he had left to see about his dad and he couldn't believe that he hadn't. Of course Malfoy would seize the opportunity to harass Hermione since both he and Harry had been gone. Malfoy always seemed to go after Hermione and he hated that she had to put up with him. She acted all calm and unaffected by his words, but Ron knew better. He never forgot the pain on her face when Malfoy had first called her a Mudblood and then again when she learned exactly what it meant. He never wanted her to go through that again so he always made sure to let Malfoy know in some way that he wasn't about to stand for his insults. The fact that he had completely missed one of Malfoy's slurs made Ron feel that he had rather let Hermione down in some way.

Hermione caught the look on his face and being her, quickly tried to appease him. "It was nothing, really. I completely forgot it happened until just now."

Ron didn't buy it for a second. He thought he already knew the gist of Malfoy's onslaught but he had to ask just to make sure. "Did he call you that word?" Ron asked through gritted teeth.

"Yes," Hermione admitted, closing her eyes and steeling herself for an explosion. Ron wanted to go off into a rant at the stupidity of a git like Draco Malfoy but he stopped after a glance at Hermione. She knew he was about to explode and from her tense posture, and he knew that she didn't want that. So Ron forced himself to curse out Malfoy in his head while speaking out loud the first question that popped into his head.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron demanded.

"Because it's wasn't worth it," Hermione replied, "I can handle a ferret like Malfoy myself, thank you very much."

The ferret imagery had a sobering affect on Ron. Ah, he thought happily as he relieved one of the top ten moments of his life. Good old Hermione, he thought fondly as he laughed silently. She always knew what to say to make him feel better.

"Come on," Hermione led the way down the corridor. She looked rather relieved that he wasn't spouting off angrily about Malfoy. Ron found he was relieved too. He would rather be thinking about other things: Hermione's smile for one thing...oh, Merlin, he really had to stop these thoughts...

"Pst! Lovebirds!"

Fred's voice jerked Ron from his inappropriate thoughts, much to his relief. Hermione and Ron both turned back towards Fred, who had stuck his head out of the classroom he and Angelina were using at the moment.

Fred jerked his head in the opposite direction. "There are some unused classrooms down the hall if you'd like to continue your prefect duties."

"Fred!" Ron and Hermione shrieked at the same time, both blushing deeply and avoiding each others eyes. Ron decided to glare at his brother instead: he--was--going--to--murder--his stupid git of a brother.

"Come on, you two," Fred continued with his wide, irritating smirk, "you do realize that people reckon you do that all the time."

Ron's stomach twisted in the biggest shock of his life. He had thought the idea of Hermione and him snogging was completely wrong and inappropriate and he was the only one who thought about it--but no, wait, he didn't think about that because he and Hermione were friends. He couldn't stop himself from voicing his amazement out loud however. "WHAT!" His face burned a rather vivid shade of red. "Who--what--when--why?" He couldn't even speak coherently, his mind was too busy reeling. Other people thought about him and Hermione in that way? Did she? He glanced over at her, but Hermione just stared at the ground, blushing bright pink. She looked rather embarrassed herself and Hermione didn't get this obviously embarrassed very often.

Fred just stared pointedly at his little brother, all jest absent from his voice. "Just think about it, little brother."

Ron met his brother's eyes and silently vowed he would get revenge on day. Fred knew that he, Ron, knew what he was insinuating but he was saying out loud to get Hermione riled up too. Hermione was so smart and she was going to know what Fred was insinuating too and that would just be very, very bad. Hermione couldn't know about these thoughts; she just couldn't.

"Fred, come back!" Angelina called from inside the room. "What are you doing?"

Thank Merlin for Angelina. Fred loved to torment his little brother, but he undoubtedly loved to snog his girlfriend even more. "Ah, duty calls," Fred wagged his eyebrows suggestively before vanishing into the classroom. Ron and Hermione both didn't move or look at each other; they both just stared determinedly at different points on the stone floor. What do you say after something like that happened?

You could tell her about what you've been feeling lately.

"Oh, and by the way," Fred had returned much to Ron's irritation and partial relief. Anything to prevent him from telling Hermione everything was a good thing. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Ron met his brother's eyes again. It was now official: he was going to hurt Fred Weasley for this.