All Bets Are On...

Ron was sitting by Seamus. And Hermione was way over by Neville. Not their usual breakfast seating arrangements, but it couldn't be helped. Harry felt miserable as surveyed both of their stony expressions. Not that he wanted for Ron and Hermione to start going out or anything, but having them argueing and practically at the point of not speaking to each other wasn't exactly fun either. Hermione was sitting as far away as possible from Ron for that exact reason.

Harry couldn't decide whether to go join Hermione or Ron. If he sat by one, it was bound to offend the other-and he really didn't want to get either one mad at him right then. He had already seen what both could do when they were in a bad mood. Making up his mind, Harry sat down next to Lavender and Parvarti, feeling breakfast was going to be a very dismal affair.

Another day. Another morning. Another breakfast. Another chance to scare the first years witlessby appearing in the middle of the pitcher of orange juice. The ghosts had more on their minds than their usual ambitions-well, at least three of them did, anyway. The fat friar was too busy trying to get his fingers unstuck from a pot of jam and the bloody baron too busy fawning over the gray lady to think of much else at the moment.

Moaning Myrtle, Peeves, and Nearly Headless Nick were all present and talking animatedly-reason enough to see that they were up to some form or other of mischief. They were seated at a small table away from the usual house tables they sat at ( or that Peeves and Nearly Headless Nick sat at, it had been awhile since Myrtle had been anywhere but the bathrooms. )

The table was also far away from Hermione, Ron, and Harry, of course. The ghosts didn't want any "accidents" that happened between the three students to be traced back to them.

Nearly Headless Nick had been most surprised to see Myrtle at breakfast. She hadn't come out of the bathrooms for twenty years (thank goodness for that, said most) and he wasn't sure why Myrtle was bothering now. He wasn't sure until he remembered the bet they had agreed on last night.

Ugh. Having Peeves messing with his plans for Harry and Hermione was bad enough-but Peeves and Myrtle together as a team messing with his plans? Harry, Hermione, and Ron would count themselves lucky if they got through the day-much less breakfast-without a broken bone.

Nearly Headless Nick raised an eyebrow as Myrtle floated by and sat down next to Peeves. "You? At breakfast? What a surprise. I thought you were now permanently attached to the prefect's bathroom."

Myrtle sighed. "Yes, well, I don't need to bother haunting there in the morning. They only have time to take showers and that's ruins all the fun because.."

Peeves looked dissapointed as Nearly Headless Nick "ahemed" loudly to cut Myrtle off.

"No further information needed. We were alive once, I think we get the picture."

A small sniffle emitted from Myrtle. "Oh sure. Alive. Once. Go ahead and rub it in that I can't be with him."

Peeves cackled noisily. Nick couldn't make up his mind which grated his nerves worse. Peeve's cackling or Myrtle's sniffling.

"Onle one pimply wimply needs to hook up with is her mirror."

Myrtle blinked her eyes rapidly and Nick was amazed to see that she actually managed to keep from crying ( though not from wiping at her nose and eyes.)

"Good grog, who are you stalking now?" he asked, praying that Myrtle's eyes remained dry throughout breakfast. Said eyes got a familiar misty quality to them as Myrtle's attention was diverted by a familiar boy with dreadlocks at the Gryffindor table (luckily away from her clutches. )

"Stalking? I'm merely watching out for him."

Peeves nodded in mock seriousness. "I know what pimply wimply means. So easy to suffocate in those shower curtains, isn't it?"

"I do not watch him in the shower. That's sick. "

A grin formed on Peeve's face. "Sicky icky pimply wimply watches prefects take baths!"

Myrtle began sniffling more than ever. "Only occasionally. And they aren't indecent or anything. They wear towels."

"Not when they get in the water." Nick made the mistake of contributing to the conversation. Myrtle thought for a moment. "Umm..they wear bathing suits?"

Peeves, having come up with a new ingenius rythm, began chanting it as loudly as he could. "Pimply wimply's ick! She has an obsession with prefect's broomsticks!"

Myrtle hid her face behind a goblet of apple cider as several other faces, including Lee Jordan's, looked to see where the rythm was coming from.

"Oh stop! Insensitive!"

Tears dripped off Myrtle's nose into the large pot containing oatmeal. Seamus ladled some out into his bowl with a spoon and grinned at Myrtle. "Geez, thanks. Now the stuff won't break several of my teeth when I try to eat it."

Myrtle didn't hear him, she was too busy bawling, making just as much racket as Peeves, who continued to shout his new rythm with glee as loudly as he could, particularly in Lee Jordan's direction.

Nearly Headless Nick adjusted the ruffle around his neck, playing spectator to Peeve's ongoing pestering of Myrtle. Thank goodness he wasn't for Ron and Hermione getting together-with Myrtle and Peeves on the same team, Ron and Hermione were far more likely to end up yelling and throwing things at each other again. Peeves and Myrtle couldn't work together for anything if their lives depended on it, thought Nick. Two minutes into breakfast and they had already forgotten all about the bet, he was sure.

Fingers were put in ears all around as Peeves magnified his voice with the use of a wand and continued to recite the rythm louder than ever, egged on by Myrtle's cries to stop. Nick sighed. It was going to be one looong morning.

********************

Five minutes later, Myrtle and Peeves proved Nick wrong. Not only where they remembering the bet, they were now doing everything to make it end on their own terms...while still argueing with each other, naturally.

"Lob Erok's extra-explosive dungbombs at Potter the Rotter and send him to the infirmary!" shouted Peeves.

"How about locking him in a closet?" suggested Myrtle. Nick knew exactly why she wanted to do THAT. If Harry was locked in a closet, he wouldn't be without company..Myrtle's company.

"No locking Harry in a closet," he looked at Myrtle pointedly. "Especially not with anyone else."

Nick turned to Peeves. "No dungbombs either. Maiming the students is NOT allowed."

Peeves shrugged. "So? It would get rid of the competition."

Nick glowered. "My point exactly. I am the competition, remember?"

As Nick was saying this, the fat friar floated past, his finger at last unstuck from the jelly jar. He stopped to beam merrily at them all.

"Did I hear competition? I'm always up for a little competition."

Not another ghost entering the bet. This was getting out of hand. Myrtle spoke before Nearly Headless Nick could come up with a lie to get the fat friar out of the way.

"It's not a competition. It's a bet."

The fat friar's eyes lit up. "Oooh. On what?"

"Not what. Who," said Nearly Headless Nick impatiently.

"Aha. So you're the ones betting on if Seamus is going to trip over his new robes before the day is over, eh? Well, I'll join in. Fifty knuts he makes it to lunch without a scratch."

"Not our bet," said Peeves. "That's between the gray lady and his royal bloodyness."

"Oh. Then you must be betting on whether one of the house elves is going to catch on fire roasting s'mores."

"Not us either. Is there any ghost not in on a bet? " asked Nick.

"Nope. There isn't much else to do. Unless you want to play wizard's poker with the bloody baron. And everyone knows he cheats," answered the fat friar. "So what exactly are you betting on, then?"

"Potter the rotter and the frizzball or freckles and the frizzball," said the ever flattering and kind Peeves.

"Which freckles?" The fat friar looked at the various members of the Weasley family that were seated around the Gryffindor table.

Peeves suddenly grinned in a way that meant trouble. "You'll see..."

Taking a wand out from where he had been hiding it under the table, he pointed it at Hermione-or rather, Hermione and her chair. With a scraping noise, the chair zoomed across the floor, a very shocked Hermione gripping with white knuckles to the sides of the chair for dear life as faces at the various tables rushed by her in a flurry of color.

"Ah," said the fat friar as he watched Hermione's chair propelling her across the floor towards the opposite end of the Gryffindor table and towards a certain redheaded bloke. "Her and George, is it?"

In a rare display of violence, Myrtle yanked out her own wand and bopped Nick over the head with it. "Not George! You were supposed to send her towards Ron!"

**************************

Hermione's chair slid neatly into an empty spot between Fred and George. Both smiled at her.

"You're welcome," the twins chorused.

"For what?"

"For us deciding to share our lovely company with you," said Fred.

"Plus, not mentioning the fact that you must really be mad at Ron if you move your chair halfway across the room just to get away from him," said George ironically.

"And come to sit next to us," continued Fred. "You're desperate. Or did you think me or George was Percy come back again? The resemblance is stunning..other than that neither of us fancies wearing a fez."

"Unless it's somewhere it shouldn't go," said George with a wink. "Only kidding!" he added when he saw the shocked expression on Hermione's face.

Fred looked at Lee Jordan, who was sitting across the table from him. "Think we ought to stuff her ears with cotton balls so she can't hear our plans?"

Lee shook his head. "It would work better if we actually had some. How about using these scones instead? I think they'll fit."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of all people, I would get stuck with you guys."

"Stuck? That's a bit rich considering you just barged yourself in your chair across the room to sit here," pointed out George.

"I did not make myself come over here! I'm telling you, someone else used their wand to move my chair-it certainly wasn't me," protested Hermione.

"Sure. We believe you," said Lee.

"Especially since your wand's sticking oh so conviently out of your shirt pocket," said Fred.

"Now, now," said George. "I'm sure she was only using it to hex Ron with."

Hermione glared at the three of them. "The only reason I would come over to your table would be to knock the three of your heads together." She paused to take a sip of George's orange juice, forgetting she had left her own fifteen chairs away. "And just what plan don't you want me to know about?"

"Which plan? Dipping Professor Bin's quill in invisible ink or coming up behind Professor Flitwick with a sock puppet? , " asked George. "Whoops," he added when Lee and Fred shot him dirty looks.

"Right. Now that you know our plans, afraid we're going to have to hit you with a spell to make sure you keep your mouth shut," said Lee.

"Not permanent, of course. Only temporary. It should wear off by the time we've finished turning Neville's toad purple," comforted Fred.

"Unless you came over here to chat with us because you wanted to get revenge on one of the teachers, in which case, we're your guys," said George.

"Are you daft? Why would Hermione want to get revenge on the teachers for? Getting a 100 instead of a 110 on one of her exams?" Fred snorted.

"For your information, the highest you can get on any school exam is 120, not 110," said Hermione haughtily. "And why would I ever want to get revenge on a teacher? Unlike some people, my life goal isn't to get expelled."

George sighed. "Pity. You're alot more fun when you act mental."

"Beg your pardon? When am I ever mental?" Hermione asked indignantly.

"Most of the time," all three boys responded.

Hermione was about to respond when she felt the legs of her chair rattling beneath her . "Ohh. Oh no."

Sure enough, a few seconds later and Hermione was once again flying across the room at top speed in her chair. She called over her shoulder to Fred and George, just loud enough so that they could hear, but not so loud that she was audible over the hubub of everyone else talking.

"By the way, if you're trying to get Professor Flitwick to faint, I suggest substituting a firework for his wand, NOT using a sock puppet."

George watched her zoom off with a bit of a grin. "Completely mental...yet brilliant," he said in an awed voice.

If his twin had known what was going through his head at that moment, he would have guffawed..if he hadn't laughed for a good twenty minutes straight first. George was now quite sure, he was developing a crush for Hermione..ack, how stupid that sounded even inside his head! She was-there was no other word for it- intresting, and you didn't meet many girls that were intresting. Or that were obsessed with schoolwork yet still posessed a sense of humor. She certainly wasn't a complete stick in the mud like Percy. Yet George and her were complete opposites. That thought only made him like her even more. He didn't want a clone that was just like him..goodness, he already had a twin, didn't he?

But Harry and Ron both were already quite taken with her. George would just have to lurk around in the background and wait. Or hide his feelings. It wouldn't kill him. Why, oh why did he have to like a girl that already had two people smitten with her?

**********************************

Meanwhile, Myrtle was smiling as she took out a wand of her own and gave it a wave towards Hermione. "There. That should fix it," she said in a satisfied voice.

"Looks like someone can't resist that Weasley animal magnetism" commented Fred as he, Lee, and George watched Hermione and her chair slid off towards Ron.

*****************************

Ron didn't even glance at Hermione as her chair moved into a space at the table beside his.

"So you decided to sit next to your best friend after all? What, did you find out Fred and George used to dress matching and sleep with identical teddy bears? Or was Krum's fan club taking up all the available space next to him?"

Hermione thought it best not to mention she hadn't come to sit next to Ron of her own free will-they were on bad enough terms with each other right now as it was.

"I'll be minus one best friend if you don't stop talking like that. I don't see why it bugs you so much. Me and Viktor are just good friends. Aren't I allowed to be friends with anyone besides Harry and you?"

"Sure. Look, Hermione, I can believe you are just friends with Krum, but I don't believe he's just friends with you. The guy doesn't understand the meaning of the word no."

"You don't even know him, so don't make assumptions," snapped Hermione, fed up. She had figured if she was already by Ron that they could have made up, but his pigheadedness was making things impossible.

"Oh right. What about you sitting next to Fred and George just minutes ago then? Hermione, what is it with you and older guys?"

Hermione's face turned slightly red.

"There you go again! I did NOT sit next to Fred and George because I wanted to, alright? Anymore than I am sitting next to you just 'cause I feel like it. Because, I assure you, I don't right now. Will you stop acting like I'm snogging half the school behind your back? I'm not like that, you know that. I'd tell you if I was dating anybody, same as I would tell Harry."

She counted to ten in her head and then finished her rant. " I'm not your little sister, so nice of you as it is, please stop trying to protect me. I can take care of myself."

"I know," said Ron, the anger in his voice from earlier dissapearing. "It's just I..." he broke off and looked miserable at his plate. "Oh never mind. You wouldn't listen if I said it anyway."

"Said what?"

How could he say it? He had been trying to figure out ways to say what he wanted to say for a year now-a year! Practicing in front of his mirror was not nearly the same as telling her face to face though.

Ron gulped. "It's just..never mind. Forget it." And once again, I blow a perfect oppurtunity to tell her. Bugger. I will tell her. Eventually. Just have to wait for the right moment...

There was an awkward pause before Ron spoke tenatively. "So can we go back to being best friends? I'm sorry about the whole Krum thing. I'll get blinders or something so I can't see him, promise. Really, really sorry."

"Sorrier than last night?"

"Of course. You get dragged out of bed at three in the morning to go to the girl's dormitories and it's sort of hard to feel anything besides an urge to kick Fred and George in the shins."

Hermione smiled. "I'm really, really sorry too. Guess we are back to being be-" She didn't get a word further as for the third time, her chair began rattling. "Not again," she moaned.

"Wicked! Where'd you learn that?" asked Ron as Hermione's chair shoot backwards from the table and go skidding halfway across the floor.

*********************************

Nearly Headless Nick had watched Hermione and Ron talking to each other for as long as he could stand. Arggh. Why did her, Ron, and Harry have to be sitting apart today of all days? It made things a good deal more difficult, thought Nick as he nonchalantly took out his own wand and pointed it at Hermione, this time sending her chair towards Harry's while the fat friar watched with interest. Three could play this game.

**********************************

Hermione gave a resigned sigh as she saw who her chair was heading towards...Harry. Unfortunately, Nick had been a little overzealous in the brandishing of his wand. Hermione ended up ramming into Harry hard. His chair fell forward and the whole emberassing incident ended with his face smashing into his bowl of oatmeal.

Hermione quickly pointed her own wand at Harry's oatmeal covered face and muttered a spell under her breath. Right away, the oatmeal dissapeared off his face, thought a bit still clung to his robes and hair.

"Oh Harry. Are you alright? You didn't get burned or anything, did you?" Hermione mentally berated herself at the words that came out of her mouth. She sounded like Harry's mother..or worse, his grandma. She also sounded disturbingly like Ron would have been to her, but Hermione didn't bother to realize that connection.

"I'm fine. Aside from nearly falling over when you rammed into me just now. What happened?"

"Oh that. It was an accident, I swear. My chair is posessed or cursed, probably by Fred and George. They must be really short for laughs if they have to resort to playing pranks on me."

"I know what you mean. At least you aren't Neville..they've turned his poor toad pretty much every color of the rainbow. Want to switch chairs?"

Hermione grinned, relieved. Harry had to make himself glance away so he wouldn't be caught staring at her. "Yeah. Thanks Harry."

"No problem," said Harry gallantly as he stood up. Now really wasn't the time to tell her what he felt..he would just have to wait until Ron had made his move and then..well, then see how Hermione responded. Harry couldn't risk losing Ron as a friend anymore than he could risk losing Hermione...

Hermione sat down in Harry's chair. Good, now maybe she could enjoy the rest of her breakfast with him in peace. The chair began to shake. Harry watched Hermione as she want wizzing off towards someone else again. "Fred and George really outdid themselves this time."

Lee saw Hermione as she and her chair rammed into Harry. "She could have a great career as a human bludger."

George laughed. "Nah, she should be a beater. I can just see her now, plowing down anyone that gets in her way...sending a bludger flying towards Snape's nether areas.."

"Wait a minute, we're beaters," said Fred, stating the obvious.

"You're right! And we haven't done any of that."

"One more thing on our to do list."

"Right above sending Draco a lifetime subscription to Teenage Witch's Weekly," said George.

*************************************

Professor McGonagall had watched Miss Granger zoom about the Great Hall for almost all of breakfast. She glanced around the room, first at the Weasley twins, who blinked innocently back at her, and then at the ghosts, who looked just as innocent, though they were involved in an arguement of some sort.

Giving up trying to find out who the culprit was, McGonagall went back to finishing her eggs on toast.

Nick, Myrtle, and Peeves were waving their wands frantically underneath the table while they recited spells, each trying to send Hermione to either Ron or Harry, much to the amusement of the fat friar.

The result was Hermione's chair clattering violently, a crack starting to appear in the back of it as it tried to go in two seperate directions and succeeded in going neither.

Draco smirked at Hermione as she tried to dig her heels into the ground to stop the chair from rattling. "Probably about to collapse from the weight. I'm surprised it hasn't before," he said to Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry heard him. "If you are going to talk aobut Hermione, you might want to keep your voice down to a minimum instead of sounding like you have a mega-phone permanently attached to your lips."

George and Fred heard Harry as they passed by to help themselves to a platter of apple tarts.

"Huh, more like his arse, if you know what I mean," said George.

"Really? I was thinking more along the lines of one of our infamous whoppie cushions," stated Fred. They snickered along with Harry.

"Oh, no need to waste your time thinking up clever comebacks, Harry. I'm not insulting the mudblood. Just her stack of textbooks."

Draco pointed to Hermione, who as usual had a stack of books in her lap. "With all that load in her lap, I'm surprised the chair hasn't gone straight through the floor to the basement."

Harry was about to retort, but Ron mouthed "ignore it, ignore it" and pointed towards Hermione who was now waving her wand around trying to get the chair to stop rattling. It was hard because the chair kept rocketing off in one direction, then switching and going the opposite way, making it impossible for Hermione to concentrate on any spell.

Harry and Ron both pointed their wands at her chair and muttered their counter-spells at the same time. It was too late, however. The chair exploded into splinters of wood, leaving Hermione sitting on her bottom in the middle of the Great Hall.

Some students stopped on their way out from breakfast to look at her-but only a few. Hogwarts was a magic school after all. Exploding chairs? What else was new?

Only Ron, Harry, and the twins paid Hermione much attention. All four of them came over to ask if she was alright as she dusted herself off and stood back up.