Hermione Granger and the Order of the Phoenix

It was rather difficult to let Ron Weasley go, however, considering that he was currently practically lying directly on top of her.

Perhaps she should elaborate further on the predicament she was in.

She had been doing so well with the getting-over-Ron plan; she had thrown herself into studying and preparing for the first D.A. lesson, and it wasn't as though she didn't have any other problems to focus on. She had been wondering why Neville had risked certain pummeling by attacking Malfoy, she was appalled that Umbridge could spy on students' mail and the fireplaces, she was worried about Hedwig and Hagrid, she was concerned that Sirius might manage to convince Harry to do something stupid and reckless, and she had spent many a sleepless night wondering if her plan for teaching defense to the students was going to work. It wasn't as if Hermione Granger didn't have enough going on in her life. She didn't really have time for romance; the plan was working.

It would be now be more accurate to say, however, that the plan had been working.

It was the first D.A. lesson, and it was going brilliantly. Hermione had managed to disarm Ron every single time, and he wasn't able to do disarm her once. Not that it really mattered, of course, but still, she had to admit, it felt good.

Then Neville had joined their group, and she would think that it would have eased matters. She unconsciously tensed up every time she and Ron were alone together, and she had been slightly relieved when Neville had shown up. But somehow Neville's presence hadn't been enough.

The problem had begun after Harry stopped the group for the first time. Neville had once again tried to disarm Hermione while Ron watched hopefully and once again Hermione had managed to avoid it.

She sighed as she brushed her hair out of her face and smiled patiently at Neville. "Want to try again, Neville?" she asked kindly.

Neville nodded, his face screwed up in concentration as he aimed his wand at her. "Expelliarmus!" The spell managed to hit Hermione in the shoulder, but it was only strong enough to cause her to recoil a few steps. Neville sighed with disappointment.

"Neville, how about this?" Harry suggested from behind Hermione. She blinked with surprise; she didn't even know that Harry had been watching them. "Your wrist movement is a bit off," Harry explained. "Watch," Before Hermione knew it, Harry had uttered the spell and Hermione's wand was flying in the air. Ron caught it quickly and grinned. "See the difference?"

Neville nodded, but the look on his face showed that he really didn't. Harry looked rather frustrated, but he kept his composure. "All right," Harry said patiently, "I've got to take a look at the others, but I'll be back in a bit, eh?"

Neville nodded and told Hermione he wanted to practice on his own. She agreed before turning to Ron. Hermione held out her hand and frowned as she realized that Ron was still laughing. "Shut up," she snapped, "and give me my wand."

"Harry disarmed you!" Ron gloated while he handed her back her wand.

"Yes, and how many times have you disarmed me?" Hermione retorted. "I believe that I disarmed you several times, and you have yet to..." She stopped in mid-sentence to deftly avoid the quick spell Ron shot at her, "disarm me," she finished with a rather smug look.

Ron glared at her, but then turned his attention to Ginny and Michael. Ginny was giggling and smiling widely up at Michael before promptly disarming him again. Michael good-naturedly retrieved his wand and half-heartedly tried to do the same to Ginny. She deftly avoided it and laughed yet again. Ron's scowl deepened when Michael shrugged and reached out to stroke Ginny's arm, speaking quietly to her with a devilish grin on his face. Hermione smiled at the tender scene before roughly poking Ron in the ribs. "Ron, come off it," Hermione said firmly. "Ginny's dating Michael, he's a nice boy, get over it. I mean, look at them," she gestured towards them, "I think it's rather sweet that Michael isn't trying at all since he didn't want to curse Ginny. That means something, doesn't it?"

"Funny, I thought that he couldn't do it because he's an idiot," Ron shot back with his typical immaturity.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and turned Ron around so his back was to his sister. "Let's focus on you trying to disarm me, shall we?" Ron continued to scowl, so Hermione changed tactics. She tilted her head in what she hoped was a charming manner and smiled. "Note the emphasis on the word try,"

She obviously knew her Ron well. Ron's frown vanished as he raised his eyebrows. "Is that a challenge?"

"Most definitely," Hermione replied, backing away so she was about five feet away from him. "And don't think I'm going to make this easy on you."

Ron shook his head with a slight smile before furrowing his brow in concentration. Despite her challenge to him, Hermione couldn't help mentally hoping that he would be able to do it. She would be true to her word and not make matters simple for him in the least, but she hoped that he would do it; she knew he could do it, and she knew what it would do for his self-esteem if he managed to disarm her. Come on, Ron, she prayed silently, we've gone over this, just get the proper wrist movement, and you'll get it.

And he did it. In a way. He lunged forward with his wand outstretched but before he could say in the incantation or perform the proper wrist movement, he tripped over his own feet. Hermione was in the middle of rolling her eyes and thinking prat when she suddenly realized she was standing too close to him. He toppled over and on his way down, reached out and knocked the wand out of her hand. "Ron!" she cried out in outrage, "that's not...oomph!" she grunted as Ron accidentally tackled her and they both tumbled to the ground. Ron quickly shot out his arms to stop himself from falling on top of Hermione and possibly injuring her, but he couldn't stop her from banging her head rather sharply on the stone floor. "Ow!" she complained, hand going to the back of her head. "Ron!"

"You okay?" Ron asked worriedly as Hermione scooted slightly backwards and sat up. She nodded and looked at him, and was startled to find herself at eye-level with him and that their faces were very, very close together.

Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, she repeated to herself. She shifted her weight to her palms so she was leaning against them, putting a little more distance between her and Ron. This only led her to have a better view of those expressive eyes she adored. And that's when the hormones started kicking in again. Her palms were sweaty, her heart was thudding, and she was almost consumed with the all-desirable urge to run her hand around to the back of Ron's head, curling her fingers around the hair at the back of his neck, and pulling him even closer...this is not part of the plan, Hermione practically shrieked to herself.

"Well, looks like I finally disarmed you," Ron smirked. Normally she would have retaliated with a snappy retort, but in the state she was in, all she could do was laugh, causing Ron to raise his eyebrows and join in. When that wonderful grin of his swept across his face, Hermione felt her heart begin to race faster. She noticed that Ron's ears were bright crimson--he was embarrassed. Maybe he did feel something towards you...only one way to find out...it would only take a second...no one was watching...

But someone was watching.

"Wow, that was quite a fall you took, Hermione!" Neville exclaimed worriedly as he hurried over to the two of them. "Are you okay?"

"F-f-fine, Neville," Hermione mumbled.

She and Ron both clamored to their feet, and Hermione managed to lift her eyes to Ron and found that his happy grin had changed to a satisfied smirk. "Told you I could disarm you."

All tender thoughts towards Ron flew out of her head as she deftly scooped up her wand. "Expelliarmus!" Ron's wand jumped out his hand again and went flying twenty feet behind him. Ron glared at her before walking over to retrieve his wand, giving Hermione ample opportunity to will herself to settle down.

She could not believe that for those few seconds when they had been on the floor that she had considered kissing him right then and there.

**

"So, let me get this straight," Ginny was trying to be serious but she couldn't stop a giggle from escaping. "You want me to set you up?"

"Yes," Hermione said seriously.

"With a boy?"

"Yes."

"Who's not Ron?"

"Yes!" Hermione snapped emphatically.

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked. "Are you really sure you're ready for this?"

"I told you," Hermione said impatiently, "I'm not going to be able to move on unless there's someone else, and you were right, Ginny, and it's the logical thing to do."

"Okay," Ginny agreed, holding her hands up in mock surrender with a smile before lowering her arms so she could fluff her crimson curls. She leaned back and critically examined her reflection and nodded in satisfaction. "Any prospects?"

Hermione leaned against the sink next to Ginny, her back to the mirror. "Ron has been the only boy I've ever been interested in," she admitted quietly. Ginny blinked in surprise. "No, Ginny, there aren't any prospects."

"That's all right," Ginny said cheerily although she was rather taken aback that Hermione had only liked her git of a brother. "Just because they aren't any other boys that you like doesn't mean that there aren't boys out there who like you."

Ginny's voice had taken a singsong, I-know-something-you-don't-know tone that made Hermione stare at her friend in shock. "What do you mean, Ginny?" Hermione asked. Ginny didn't reply right away and continued to arrange her hair with a knowing grin. "Ginny!"

Ginny turned to Hermione. "What if I told you that someone has been asking someone I know about you?"

"I would say fill in the 'someones' with actual names, and I'll give you an answer," Hermione retorted flatly.

"All right, not in the mood for guessing games, I see," Ginny smirked, reminding Hermione forcibly of Fred and George. "Michael told me that Terry Boot has been asking a lot of questions about you lately."

"Really?" Hermione pictured the tall, almost mousy brown-haired boy in her head considerably. She had chatted with Terry occasionally after Arithmancy classes and they had even studied together once or twice, but sparks had never really flown between them. He was a nice enough boy, but not extraordinary in looks or personality in any way. "What has he been saying?"

"Well," Ginny said with teasing slowness, "he was really impressed with your Protean Charm, and he says that you're the brightest person in your year, and Michael told me that he wished that you had been put in Ravenclaw so he could get to know you better."

"Well," Hermione blushed slightly at the lovely things Terry had said about her, "he does seem like a very nice boy."

"Yeah he does," Ginny nudged Hermione and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "So would you like to get to know him better?"

"I guess," Hermione said, rising from her perch on the edge of the sink so she could check her hair. "It can't be this weekend since we've got the Quidditch match."

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, "But don't worry about a thing; I'll talk to Michael, and we'll take care of it." She practically jumped up and down with glee as she shook Hermione's arm excitedly. "We'll plan everything."

Hermione smiled wryly. "I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse,"

Ginny laughed good-naturedly at the joke, and slung her arm companionably around Hermione's shoulders as the two girls headed out of the girls' loo. "Just stick with me, Hermione," she teased, "and I'll take care of everything."

**

Hermione was glad that Ginny was willing to take over the rather disconcerting idea of asking a boy out; Hermione was a traditional girl and she firmly believed that the boy should approach the girl. That was part of the reason why she hadn't made a move with the Ron situation. But drastic times caused for drastic measures, and Hermione knew that dating someone else was the best thing to do.

The only problem that Ginny couldn't handle was one that Hermione was internally debating about for the past few days: should she tell Ron about the date Ginny was going to set up? It wasn't any of his business, of course, but still, Hermione felt odd about not telling him. Ron was the one person that she truly opened to; he knew almost everything about her, except for obviously how she felt about him. And now she was keeping secrets from him, and she hated it.

But the truth would...well, Hermione frowned as she walked along the corridor, how would Ron react? Most likely, the big brother act would spring up, she would get irritated, and they would get into a row. Or he would get jealous like he did at the Yule Ball, she would get irritated, and they would get into a row. Or he wouldn't care at all, she would get irritated, and they would get into a row. None of those prospects appealed to her in the least.

Besides, Hermione gave Ron a sideways glance and bit her lip, Ron has enough to worry about. He had been putting up with the Slytherins taunting him all week, and he wasn't taking it well at all. He had at least stopped trying to attack each Slytherin that approached him, but his ears still glowed bright red and his hands kept on trembling violently whenever he heard their jeers. It didn't help that Fred and George weren't exactly the most comforting of brothers at the moment by telling him that they maybe, just maybe, accept him as one of their brothers. Ron needed someone to support him, not tease him, and she would hope that Fred and George would be able to do that for him. But honestly, those two acted as though Harry was their brother rather than Ron, which certainly didn't help Ron's self-esteem issues. Ron needed all the support he could get, especially tonight.

"You all right?" Hermione finally broke the silence as she and Ron turned around and began to walk back towards the stairs that led to the seventh floor. They were almost finished with patrolling for the evening, and Hermione knew that if she was going to say anything, she was going to have to do it now before they returned to the Friday night pandemonium of the common room.

"Yeah," Ron replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Hermione didn't point out that he already looked a little green at the thought of playing Quidditch tomorrow, and just shrugged slightly. "Well, I know I would be a little nervous if I was about to play my first Quidditch game tomorrow."

"I reckon I am," Ron admitted after a long pause, hands jammed into his pockets.

"That's okay, you know," Hermione said quietly, "anyone would be nervous."

"Harry's not," Ron argued.

"Harry's been playing for five years," Hermione pointed out. "If you remember, he was terrified before his first game. He wouldn't even eat." She stopped walking so she could reach out and touch Ron's arm. Ron looked down at her hand in surprise, but he also stopped walking. "Look," she said earnestly, "you're going to be just fine. Angelina wouldn't have picked you if she didn't think you could do it, would she?" Ron let out a sarcastic laugh, but he didn't say a word. "Hey," she said quietly. "Look at me." Ron obeyed, and Hermione almost wished that he hadn't; Merlin, his eyes were blue! "You just have to believe in yourself," she told him firmly.

"That's right, Weasley," a cold, mocking voice broke in. "Just believe that you'll be spending tomorrow night in the hospital wing."

Loud, jeering guffaws echoed down the corridor. Hermione tightened her grip on Ron's arm while closing her eyes briefly. This was the worst moment for the Slytherin Quidditch team to return from one final practice.

"Come on, Ron," she said briskly, grabbing Ron's other arm so she could pull him with both hands away from Warrington, Montague, and Malfoy. "We have to finish patrolling." Ron's ears were once again bright red, but he allowed himself to be dragged along. Malfoy was once again doing his impersonation of Ron dropping a Quaffle, producing more laughs from his fellow teammates.

"Here, Weasel," Malfoy called as he dug out a Galleon from his pocket and flicked it across the hall so it hit Ron directly on the back of his head. "I know you won't be able to afford hospital fees on your own."

Ron spun around so fast that Hermione skidded along with him, still clinging on to his wrists. Hermione refused to let go of him, and Ron knew better than to even try. He roughly kicked the Galleon back across the hall.

"No thanks, Malfoy," Ron spat back. "You need every Galleon you can get to pay off Madame Hooch. That's the only way you're going to win tomorrow."

"Is that right?" Malfoy looked rather surprised that Ron had snapped back at him, but he didn't lose his composure. "Because you are just the king of Quidditch, aren't you?" For some reason, Warrington and Montague laughed even harder at the weak jest, making Hermione narrow her eyes in suspicion.

"Ron, let's go," she insisted, tugging harder on Ron's robes. Ron glanced down at her, and she squeezed his arm lightly, a tactic she had found had actually worked in getting Ron to back down. "Please?"

"That's right, Weasley," Malfoy drawled. "Listen to the Mudblood."

"Don't call her that!" Ron exploded. Hermione set her heels into the ground as hard as she could but only barely managed to hold him back.

"Ron!"

The three Slytherins were practically rolling on the floor with laughter.

"Come on," she urged, yanking as hard as she could. "Take it out on them tomorrow!"

Ron growled with rage and pulled himself free of Hermione's grip so he could storm towards the stairs, not looking back once despite the mocking calls from him to come back and fight like a man. But Ron knew better than that; he knew that Hermione would hex the hell out of him if he tried to go back.

Hermione paused to glare at Malfoy, ignoring the other two Slytherins. "What are looking at, Mudblood?" Malfoy sneered.

"Nothing," Hermione replied meaningfully. "Absolutely nothing." She breezed away during the few seconds it took Malfoy to understand what she was insinuating. Ron was waiting for her on the stairs, and she could tell that he didn't want to talk, or listen so they returned the common room in silence, Ron still fuming and Hermione still worrying.

Angelina jumped on Ron the instant he entered the common room; apparently she had wanted him in bed by nine o'clock so he could get enough rest for tomorrow, and it was ten minutes after nine at the moment. He wordlessly headed up to his dormitory, not realizing that Hermione was watching him, biting her lip once again in anxiety.

Things were not looking good for tomorrow's match.

**

"So, Hermione, I talked to Michael last night, and...Hermione, are you even listening to me?"

Hermione snapped herself out of her daze and turned to her friend blankly. "What?"

"Hermione, what's the matter?" Ginny asked, looking a tad nervous, "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's just...I just hope Ron does well today," Now that she had a receptive audience, Hermione just let her anxieties about Ron burst out. "Do you think he will? You've seen him fly, is he any good? He won't fly in front of me, and I've never seen him play Keeper so I have no idea. He loves Quidditch, so I bet he's good. I always thought he'd be good at anything he puts his mind to, he's got so much potential, I wish he'd have more confidence in himself..."

"Hermione!" Ginny laughed. "Ron will be just fine. He's a good flier. Relax."

Hermione sighed. "I'm sorry, Ginny, I guess I'm just nervous for him, I mean he wants to do well so badly, and he's been dealing with the Slytherins harassing him, I mean he's got seventh-years telling him he's going to end up in the hospital, honestly, I don't know how Harry has put up with this for five years."

"Like you've put up with them calling you a Mudblood?" Ginny replied shrewdly. "It just takes time, Hermione. Ron's just not used to it, that's all. He'll learn to deal with it just like he's learned to deal with his temper whenever they bother you or Harry."

Hermione would have been comforted by this logic except for the tiny fact that she had prevented a brawl between Ron and Malfoy last night due to the uttering of the M-word.

The two girls entered the noisy Great Hall, stopping all conversation between them. Hermione's eyes went straight to the Slytherins table, easily noticeable by the upsurge of green and silver. But they were wearing something else on their robes--a silver badge of some sort in the shape of a crown. She squinted her eyes and frowned as she tried to read the wording on the badges as she continued to walk by the table, ignoring the obvious jeers aimed in their direction.

"Like our badges, Granger," Hermione groaned as she turned back around to glare at Malfoy. He got to his feet and thrust his chest out. "Take a good look."

Hermione frowned as she read the words: Weasley is our King. This had to be intended for Ron; that's why they had laughed last night at the reference to king. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded angrily.

"Just wait, Granger," Malfoy gloated, "Your pauper boyfriend is going to have a marvelous first match." His voice was practically dripping with sarcasm.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ginny cut in, grabbing Hermione's arm that was sneaking towards her wand. "Let's get some breakfast, Hermione."

Hermione flounced away from Malfoy, her worry mounting as she headed towards the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron were deep in conversation, their backs mercifully towards the Slytherin table. Hopefully he hadn't seen the badges, but Ron did look rather pale and sweaty and nervous.

"How're you feeling?" Ginny asked Ron.

"He's just nervous," said Harry.

"Well, that's a good sign, I never feel you perform as well in exams if you're not a bit nervous," said Hermione in what she hoped was a very hearty and comforting voice. Her eyes were however trained on Malfoy who was now doing yet another imitation of Ron dropping the Quaffle.

Fortunately, that idiot Luna Lovegood drifted towards the four of them, and her massive lion's head that was perched on top of her head distracted Ron for a few more minutes and kept his attention away from the Slytherins.

But then Angelina hurried over with the two other Chasers. "When you're ready, we're going to go straight down to the pitch, check out conditions and change."

Ron's face went even paler.

"We'll be there in a bit," Harry was reassuring their Captain. "Ron's just got to have some breakfast."

Hermione and the others tried as they might for ten more minutes, but Ron had enough food in him that he could handle without chucking it back up. She bit her lip as Harry and Ron both rose to head down to the pitch, and quickly got up too. She had to warn Harry about what the Slytherins had planned for Ron. She grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him to the side.

"Don't let Ron see what's on those Slytherins' badges," she whispered urgently.

Harry looked questioningly at her, and she knew he was about to ask her what she was talking about. But Ron was walking towards them, so she just shook her head warningly.

Ron reached the two of them, and Hermione's heart just about broke at the look on his face. He was so pale that she could see every freckle quite plainly, cold sweat shined obviously on his forehead, and his eyes looked so lost, desperate, and nervous. Her heart went out to him, wanting to do something to ease his nerves, wanting to tell him something to make him feel confident about his skills. But Ron knew that she had never seen him play, so he would know what she was up to. But she had to do something!

So, Hermione did the first thing that popped into her head.

"Good luck, Ron," said Hermione. She had to stand on tiptoe so she could drop a light kiss on his cheek. She quickly looked away so Ron wouldn't see the look on her face and focused on Harry. "And you, Harry."

The two boys nodded at her and walked out of the Great Hall. Hermione's heart fluttered hopefully as she noticed Ron touching the spot on his face where she had just kissed him. And although this wasn't her original intention, she did manage to distract him enough so he didn't so much as glance at the Slytherins.

"Is this part of the getting over Ron plan?" Ginny asked sarcastically. "Because if it is, I think you need to rethink some of the finer aspects of it."

"Shut it," Hermione said offhandedly with a smile as she sat back down.

Ginny studied her for a moment. "So should I cancel the date with Terry?"

"No, no, of course not," Hermione said quickly. That didn't stop her from continuing to glance over at the doors Ron had just walked through. "He'll be all right, won't he?"

"Yes," Ginny said firmly.

**

Oh, how wrong Ginny Weasley was.

WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN

"Come on, Ron!" Hermione yelled as loudly as she could, cupping her hands over her mouth. She knew Ron really had no chance in knowing she was cheering him on, but she still continued to make the effort.

"It's only one score," Ginny was reassuring herself as much as Hermione. "We can still win."

WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN,

WEASLEY IS OUR KING...

"..if you lot will BLOODY SHUT UP!" Ginny shrieked over to the Slytherins.

Hermione's stomach was writhing in nerves as she continued to watch Ron guard the hoops. Even from this distance, she could tell that he was still quite pale and every stanza of that damned song was just making things worse.

"Harry, go!" Ginny yelled up to Harry. Hermione glanced up to see Angelina soar past Harry and yell something to him. It looked as though Harry had been just hovering in the air, watching Ron and the match. Harry snapped out of it quickly, though, and was soon circling the pitch.

"Your brother better get a hold on himself," Michael told Ginny quietly.

WEASLEY IS OUR KING,

WEASLEY IS OUR KING...

Hermione whirled to glare at Michael. "How would you like it if you were playing in your first match and half the crowd was singing a song insulting you and your family? I can't believe Malfoy!" She turned her furious glare up to the Slytherin Seeker, and she could hear him singing,

WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN...

"I mean, this is low, even for him!" Hermione ranted. "I can't believe no one is trying to put a stop to this!"

"It's not against the rules, Hermione," Ginny reminded her before letting out a cheer when Fred hit Pucey with a Bludger to stop him from heading downfield.

"Well, we've got to do something!" Hermione said desperately.

"Hermione, we can't interfere in a Quidditch match!" Ginny said in a shocked tone of voice.

Hermione smirked. It was obvious that Ginny hadn't sat with her during a match before. So far, she had prevented Harry from being hurled off his jinxed broomstick (granted, she had ended up setting the wrong person on fire, but she had nevertheless gotten the job done) and she had made his glasses water-proof so he could see properly and Harry had told her that the entire team used that charm during one water-logged practice. She'd interfere in the match if she pleased, especially if one of her best friends was being tormented.

WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING...

Hermione's eyes caught on the hideous Pansy Parkinson in the stands directly across from her. Pansy was right in front, waving her arms wildly as she conducted the Slytherins.

THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING:

WEASLEY IS OUR KING.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Ginny demanded as she watched Hermione pull out her wand.

"Putting a stop to this," Hermione said grimly. "Coming?"

"You bet," Ginny said firmly. "I'll be back," she said vaguely to Michael.

"What? Ginny!"

The two girls ignored him as they ran down the stands and they unfortunately had to take the long way around since they couldn't very well run in the middle of the pitch.

"What's the plan?" Ginny huffed as they finally reached the Slytherins' stands and started up the stairs.

"Uh--haven't gotten there yet," Hermione gasped out. "Just--plan--on--charging--in."

"Oh, right," Ginny said almost happily.

"Mudblood!"

"Go sit with your own kind!"

WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN,

Hermione ignored the taunts as she pushed her way through the crowd of Slytherins, fighting her way to the front. None of the Slytherins seemed to want to touch her, as she did have "dirty blood", but Ginny was having a little more difficulty.

"The littlest Weasel!" a large sixth-year cooed as he grabbed Ginny's arm. "What are you doing over here?"

"How sweet," his friend added. He looked like he was going to say more, but Ginny stomped down hard on his friend's foot and wrenched her arm away. "Saucy too," he muttered appreciatively. He managed to wrap his ape-like fingers around Ginny's forearm tightly and pulled her closer. "Tell me, dearie, find any diaries lately?"

HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN,

Ginny froze, face contorted with pain and shock, and Hermione, intent on getting to Pansy, whirled back around at those words. How--dare--he!

"Hermione, go!" Ginny broke out of her reverie and promptly rammed her knee upwards, striking her target squarely where she intended. He groaned and doubled over. Hermione couldn't help grinning--Ginny certainly had a lot of nerve. "Hermione!" Ginny yelled reproachfully.

Oh, right! Hermione turned back around, and ignoring the other Slytherins jostling her, aimed her wand directly at Pansy.

WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN...

"Silencio!"

Pansy gasped as her voice vanished, and she clutched her throat in surprise. The song halted abruptly when the Slytherins realized that their ringleader was incapacitated. Pansy's beady eyes narrowed when they rested on Hermione. Hermione glared at her triumphantly, giving a little shrug.

"No!"

Both Pansy and Hermione broke eye contact when they realized that no one was paying any attention to them, but to the pitch. Hermione had well expected some retaliation to occur when she jinxed Pansy, so when it didn't, she quickly turned back to the pitch. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw that Harry was diving towards the grass, and so was Malfoy...

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed loudly.

He and Malfoy were neck and neck, both had their hands outstretched, straining...

And then Harry pulled out of the dive, his hand triumphantly in the air.

Hermione and Ginny screamed with delight and hugged each other. They did it!

WHACK!

"Hey!" Hermione screamed in outrage as a body was hurtled on top her, knocking her backwards onto her back. Her hair was swiftly seized and yanked hard, and Hermione let out another yell as pain seared across her scalp. "Pansy, get off!" But Pansy just kept pulling on Hermione's long locks, despite Ginny's efforts to stop her. Hermione had a fairly good idea about why Pansy was attacking her, however, and complied. She quickly performed the counter-curse to the Silencing Charm, and while Pansy recoiled from the spell striking her, Hermione used the opportunity to scramble out from underneath her.

"Hermione, are you okay?" Ginny asked, glaring at Pansy.

Hermione nodded as Pansy rubbed her throat and gave Hermione a murderous look. "Mudblooded bitch," she rasped.

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!"

The three girls turned towards the pitch, and gasped simultaneously.

"HARRY!" Hermione yelled.

"GEORGE!" Ginny shrieked.

"DRACO!"

Pansy let out a scream when Harry and George leapt on top of Malfoy. Harry was punching Malfoy in the stomach, George was going for the face while Malfoy toppled to the ground, hands over his head as he tried to protect himself while yelling at the two of them. Hermione didn't see much more of the brawl since she was sprinting down the stairwell to get down the pitch. Harry had really lost it this time, he was starting a fistfight in front of every single teacher, including Umbridge. No wonder no one had noticed the catfight that had been ensuing in the Slytherin stands--they were too busy watching Harry Potter and George Weasley try to murder Draco Malfoy.

By the time Hermione reached the pitch, the fight had all ready been broken up. Harry and George were striding off side-by-side towards the castle, and Hermione could see a livid Professor McGonagall barreling after them, and much to her consternation, Professor Umbridge was following McGonagall. She bit her lip. This couldn't be good.

"Fred!" Angelina was pleading through gritted teeth. "Stop it!" All three Chasers were holding Fred back, and he was still struggling to get to Malfoy. Whatever Malfoy had done now, it must have been really bad.

"Mr. Weasley, get to your changing room, and do not return until you have calmed yourself!" Madame Hooch snapped, pointing a shaking finger towards the changing room. Fred roughly shoved his arms free from the Chasers' grip and stormed off without another glance at Malfoy.

"Draco, are you hurt?" Pansy demanded, kneeling down next to him. "What did that nasty Potter do to you?"

"Or what did you do to Harry?" Ginny retorted, hands on her hips, giving Malfoy a look of utter contempt.

Malfoy smirked as he got to his feet, rubbing his jaw gingerly. Pansy simpered worriedly, and examined the tiny bruise as if it were a foot-long gash. "He should be expelled!" Pansy cried in outrage.

"For what!" Ginny shrieked angrily, hand going towards her wand. Hermione quickly grabbed Ginny by the arm and shook her head warningly.

"Now, now, Granger," Malfoy mocked, "That's not proper prefect procedure, now is it?"

Hermione studied Malfoy hatefully for a moment before replying. "Do you need to get to the hospital wing, Malfoy?"

"No," he said flatly.

"Good," Hermione fingered her wand threateningly. "Now get inside before you do need to pay Madame Pomfrey a visit," She didn't wait for a response, and just turned on her heel, stalking away towards the castle with Ginny at her heels.

"You never told me what you thought of my song, Granger," Malfoy called out after her. Even with her back to him, she could sense the smirk on his face. She didn't give him the satisfaction of turning around, but just kept walking with her head held high. But instead of continuing towards the castle, she veered towards the changing rooms.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked in puzzlement.

"Ron," she said for her answer. Ginny nodded in understanding, and followed her. Hermione hesitated slightly before knocking on the changing room door. "Ron?"

"He's not here," Alicia said shortly as she opened the door, having finished changing out of her Quidditch robes.

"Do you know where he is?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"No," Angelina had now joined them, looking rather frustrated. "If you find him before I do, would you let him know that I'd like to speak to him?"

"Sure," Hermione swallowed hard to dislodge a lump in her throat. Angelina really wouldn't kick Ron off the team after one bad game, would she? Ron loved Quidditch so much, it would crush him if he were kicked off, not to mention the flack he'd get from the Slytherins. It also rather worried her that he wasn't in the changing rooms--she'd thought he'd stay hidden for a while in there until the crowd had dissipated.

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny pulled on her sleeve. "He's probably in the common room or something."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed doubtfully. "Let's go see."

"Well--uh, actually, I'd..."

Hermione understood immediately. "Right, go on and find Michael, I'll see you later."

"Okay," Ginny said happily. She sobered though and regarded Hermione seriously. "He'll be all right, Hermione, really."

**

It was amazing how many times Ginny could be wrong in the course of one day.

Hermione had searched the entire castle, the library, several empty classrooms, the top of the Astronomy Tower, the common room, the boys' dormitory, and she couldn't find Ron anywhere. She was about to go out to search the grounds again when Ginny emerged from the Great Hall, having just eaten dinner with Michael.

"Find him?" Ginny inquired.

"No," Hermione sighed with defeat, "I was just going to take a look outside, maybe he fancied a walk or something..."

She trailed off as both girls' attention became focused on Professor Umbridge who was striding happily into the Great Hall, a triumphant smirk on her face.

"Harry,"

Hermione and Ginny both took off towards the common room, quickly gave the Fat Lady the password, and came to a screeching halt when they saw Fred, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie sitting in front of the fire.

"Have you seen Harry or George?" they all asked as one.

Hermione and Ginny both shook their heads, and Ginny moved to take a seat next to her brother. Hermione hesitated--she was rather torn, she didn't know if she should wait for Harry to come back or keep looking for Ron.

At that moment, Harry and George came shuffling into the common room, and Harry looked so bewildered and desolate that Hermione knew she had to stay.

"What happened?" Angelina demanded as the two boys made their way towards them. Hermione followed and took a seat next to Harry, who had sat next to Ginny. Harry just shook his head and buried his face into his hands miserably. Something small and wicked fast darted in Hermione's face for a moment, and zipped past her. Blinking frantically, she finally realized that Harry hadn't let go of the Snitch he had caught earlier that afternoon.

"We're both got a lifetime ban from Umbridge," George informed them in a low voice.

"WHAT!"

Hermione knew that she had burst out with that exclamation, but she couldn't tell who else had as well; every single person seated around the fire was gaping with shock. Hermione's heart was hammering rather fast--Harry couldn't play Quidditch anymore? He loved Quidditch. He loved it with a ferocity and depth that Hermione couldn't understand. He thought it was the only thing he was any good at, and if Umbridge took that away from him, it gave Hermione one more reason to hate Umbridge.

"Umbridge passed another Decree," Harry finally lifted his head and stared bleakly into the fire. "Gives her authority over all punishments. Said we have too much of a temper."

George was staring at Fred with a mixture of guilt and grief. "She banned you too, mate."

"What?" Fred demanded angrily. "Why!?"

"Umbridge said that if Angelina and the rest hadn't restrained you, you would have attacked Malfoy too," George explained. "So you're banned too."

"Banned," said Angelina in a hollow voice. "Banned. No Seeker and no Beaters...What on earth are we going to do?"

"It's just so unfair," said Alicia numbly. "I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?"

"No," said Ginny miserably. "He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner."

"And banning Fred when he didn't even do anything!" said Alicia furiously, pummeling her knee with her fist.

"It's not my fault I didn't," said Fred, with a very ugly look on his face. "I would've pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn't been holding me back."

Harry was now staring out of the window, looking utterly disconsolate. Hermione didn't know what to say or do--she had feeling if she said anything right now, Harry would end up snapping at her and feeling even worse. Hermione bit her lip as she followed Harry's gaze out the window. With a slight start, she realized that it was quite dark outside. Ron had been gone for an awfully long time; where on earth was he?

"I'm going to bed," said Angelina, getting slowly to her feet. "Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream...Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet..."

Hermione knew she couldn't leave Harry yet; even if he didn't know it, he needed someone just to sit with him during his misery. But when she and Harry were the only ones left by the fire, she couldn't take it anymore. Harry was so focused on his own problems that he probably didn't even realize that Ron had been missing for so long. Hermione knew that Ron was most likely avoiding everyone, too embarrassed to face them. But that tiny, nagging voice at the back of her head had just brought up the valid point that You-Know...Voldemort was back, and Ron was very well-known to be Harry's best friend and the son of Dumbledore supporters, what if something had happened to him, or what if he had crossed Malfoy...

"Have you seen Ron?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

Harry shook his head.

"I think he's avoiding us," said Hermione. "Where do you think he--?"

But at that precise moment, there was a creaking sound behind them as the Fat Lady swung forward and Ron came clambering through the portrait hole. He was very pale indeed and there was snow in his hair. When he saw Harry and Hermione he stopped dead in his tracks.

With a surge of immense relief, Hermione jumped to her feet. "Where have you been?" said Hermione anxiously.

"Walking," Ron mumbled. He was still wearing his Quidditch things, and he looked even more miserable than Harry, and Hermione once again wished she could throw her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. But she knew he didn't want that, and there wasn't any homework she could copy for him at the moment...I can't believe you just thought that!

"You look frozen," she finally said, "Come and sit down!"

Ron walked to the fireside and sank into the chair farthest from Harry's, not looking at him. He didn't want to look at him, Hermione thought with a sinking heart, Ron's still too embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Ron mumbled, looking at his feet.

"What for?" said Harry.

"For thinking I can play Quidditch," said Ron. "I'm going to resign first thing tomorrow."

"If you resign," said Harry testily, "there'll only be three players left on the team." Ron finally looked at Harry with a puzzled expression. "I've been given a lifetime ban. So've Fred and George."

"What?" Ron yelped.

Hermione glanced over at Harry, who looked as though the last thing he wanted to do was tell the story again. "Harry and George got into a row with Malfoy after the match," she jumped in for Harry. "Umbridge passed a new Decree saying that she had the power to dole out punishments, so she banned Harry and George for attacking Malfoy, and Fred too because he would have if Angelina, Alicia, and Katie hadn't been there to hold him back.

Hermione almost wished she hadn't told the story, because now Ron looked more anguished than ever.

"This is all my fault..."

"You didn't make me punch Malfoy," said Harry angrily.

"--if I wasn't so lousy at Quidditch..."

"--it's got nothing to do with that..."

"--it was the song that wound me up..."

"--it would've wound anyone up..."

Please, please, don't argue, Hermione thought desperately. This day was already miserable enough; she couldn't stand it if Harry and Ron started fighting. They were both in dreadful tempers; Harry was already close to snapping, and Ron for once might snap back. Not being able to listen any longer, Hermione got to her feet and headed over to the window.

"Look, drop it, will you!" Harry burst out. "It's bad enough without you blaming yourself for everything!"

Hermione closed her eyes; please, Ron, don't...

Ron didn't say a word and a silence pervaded the common room. Hermione opened her eyes and tossed her head back, blinking a few times to dispel any moisture from her eyes. She finally really looked out into the dark night, the snow hitting the windowpane and melting on contact. She didn't really expect be able to see very well since there wouldn't be any lights on at this time of night...

But there was.

There was a light on in Hagrid's hut, smoke was furling from the chimney, and Hermione stared in disbelief, praying that it was true. She didn't truly believe that it was until she saw the door to the hut open and a huge figure stood in the doorway for a moment before wading out in the snow to inspect his garden.

It can't be...

"This is the worst I've ever felt in my life."

"Join the club," said Harry bitterly.

But it was!

"Well," said Hermione, her voice trembling slightly. "I can think of one thing that might cheer you both up."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry skeptically.

"Yeah," said Hermione, turning away from the pitch-black, snow-flecked window, a broad smile spreading across her face. "Hagrid's back."