Ronald Weasley and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Twelve:

The Nearly Miserable Birthday

February was passing in the most unextraordinary way possible. Quirrell seemed to be holding his own against Snape nicely, Fluffy was alive and content, and classes were just as dull and boring as Ron had thought at the beginning of the month. Gone was the novelty of finally getting to use a wand and performing magic. Now it was just plain hard. The teachers didn't help, of course. Flitwick would set extra homework after every lesson, McGonagall wouldn't take, "I can't do this" for an answer, Sprout and Sinistra quizzed them constantly, and Binns droned on and on. Even Snape's intimidation tactics were beginning to become unimpressive.

It wasn't until the twenty-fourth day of the month when something exciting finally happened. Every student was impressed by a large eagle owl that swooped into the Great Hall with all the rest at breakfast that day. It circled the tables for what seemed like forever, it's large wingspan skimming off of the walls as it began to hone in on the Gryffindor table. Finally, it landed surprisingly lightly in front of Ron.

"For me?" he asked it, bewildered. He didn't know anyone who had such a huge bird! As if to answer him, it stretched its leg outward, presenting a tightly wrapped scroll to him that clearly read, "Ron." "Thanks," Ron mumbled, unfurling the parchment from the bird and handing it a piece of his bacon.

"Who is it from?" Harry wondered aloud as his eyes followed the large owl up into the rafters.

Ron didn't need to open up the letter to know. He recognized the handwriting on the outside. It was the same miniscule writing that had accompanied the disgusting box of Scarab Crunch. "Bill," Ron replied nonchalantly. He made sure to give Hermione as subtle a look as he could while also letting her know that their answer about the mirror was here. Hermione gently nodded her head as if to understand.

"Oh. What do you reckon it's about?" Harry said, seeming to have not noticed the little exchange between his friends. It struck Ron as a little odd that Harry would be curious about it, but Ron decided to ignore it. Maybe he was just making conversation or something?

"I wrote to him about his Christmas gift," Ron lied. He hated being untruthful to Harry, but he hadn't exactly gotten permission from him to share his story with the Mirror of Erised. It would be better if, for now, Harry didn't know about it. "I guess he had something to say back."

"Oh...I thought maybe you asked him about...you know...the Stone," Harry whispered. Ron's eyebrows shot up in understanding. He had never thought to do that!

"No," Ron responded, feeling only slightly foolish about having never thought to ask his brother (who, as a Curse-Breaker, knew a great deal about magical objects, and may know a fair deal about the Philosopher's Stone). "Do you think I should?"

"No!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed rather loudly. She jumped at the sound of her own voice, looked around for a moment, then whispered frantically to Harry and Ron, "I don't think anyone should know. I mean, the professors have gone through a lot to try to keep it a secret. We would hardly be doing anyone a favor by blabbing about it to everyone we know!"

"That's what Hagrid did, isn't it?" Ron replied. It was hard not to feel a tad annoyed at Hermione's words. Did she really think Bill wasn't trustworthy? He was one of the best people Ron knew, and certainly could handle some matters with discretion. After all, he wouldn't be able to work for Gringotts if he didn't at least value some secrecy.

"Ron!" Hermione sighed in exasperation. "You know Hagrid didn't mean to tell us about it! We kind of...forced it out of him."

"Yeah, but he kind of made it easy."

"Oh, honestly, Ronald, you act as though Hagrid either wanted us to know or as if he's stupid!" Ron didn't know how to respond to this. Hagrid, he knew, would do anything to please Dumbledore, so it was highly unlikely that he really did want them to figure out what Fluffy was guarding. At the same time, while he loved Hagrid and thought he was great, he didn't particularly think the guy was brilliant. Actually, he was pretty childlike at times. All Ron could do was shrug; hopefully Hermione would just understand that he was affectionate for everything Hagrid was, including his being stupid. Instead of understanding, though, Hermione scoffed in outrage. Well, it's true, Ron thought bitterly.

Ron contemplated opening the letter right at that moment at the table, but decided against it. What if Harry decided to look over his shoulder? Or, even worse, what if Bill had bad news? What if the Mirror of Erised showed the future as he originally thought? He couldn't risk giving away that his letter had far more important information than he originally implied. So, he was just about to tuck it away in his bag, when Fred and George plopped down on either side of Harry across from Ron and Hermione.

"Who's the letter from, Ronnie-popkins?" Fred questioned. Ron rolled his eyes at the cutesy nickname. He couldn't wait until he was no longer the youngest Weasley at Hogwarts. Part of him really hoped that the twins gave Ginny as much of a hard time next year when she was new.

"Bill," he replied dully.

"Why's he writing to you?!" George suddenly ranted, outraged. "He never writes to us!"

"Maybe he likes me better?" Ron suggested.

"No, that can't be," Fred said. "No one likes you better." It was meant as a joke, of course, but it was enough to turn Ron's ears red. He hated it when Fred and George put him down like that. Most of the time, if anyone offended him in the family, it was unintentional. With the twins, though, it was always on purpose. They liked seeing Ron get worked up, even if they weren't serious in what they were saying.

"I like him better!" Hermione suddenly said in a poisonous voice. Ron couldn't help but slap a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. He knew Hermione was just trying to protect him (she probably saw his color change), but saying something like that to Fred and George was just the stupidest thing ever. He'd never hear the end of it!

Sure enough, Fred and George began snickering, and in mere seconds, George said, "Aw, Ronnie...we knew you'd woo her in the end!"

"Woo?!" Hermione exclaimed, suddenly looking horrified. Ron groaned and stuffed the letter into his bag, unable to look up at anyone.

"Ah, yes, little one," Fred said, sounding much like an adult speaking to a four year old. "Your feelings are very natural. You see, when two people love each other very much..."

"Wait...what?!" Hermione asked, looking from Fred, to George, and then to Ron.

"They're just playing with you, Hermione," Ron mumbled. "Don't pay any attention to them."

"Oh, Ron, you know you adore her! It's a bad thing to suppress your feelings like that," Fred said. Harry now laughed along with them, and Ron felt the inexplicable desire to spill oatmeal on his head. Hermione's cheeks were pink.

"I don't love Hermione!" Ron protested. Then, deciding to take care of this once and for all, he turned to her and said, "Look, you're one of my best friends in the world and I think you're awesome, but don't listen to them. I don't have a crush on you and I'm not in love with you either."

"I didn't think you were. I don't like you like that either," Hermione answered bluntly. It was, strangely, not what he had been expecting. Actually, by the way she was blushing, he had momentarily wondered if maybe she felt exactly the way Fred and George claimed Ron felt for her. But to hear that she didn't...it was weird, but it felt almost as if he was plunging downward with no hope of ever coming up again.

"Oh," Ron said. His chest felt tight, and his mouth became dry. Why did this make him feel so bad? "I didn't think you did either," he lied.

"Well, this was disappointing," George admitted. "What's wrong with you two?! Where's all the drama?"

"We're first years," Hermione said with a shrug. Fred and George smirked at the cheeky answer, and Harry outright grinned. Ron, however, kind of wanted to walk away from the conversation. So, Hermione didn't like him? Well, of course she liked him, but she didn't have a crush on him. He didn't know why, but it made him feel terrible to know it. He had rather thought that he made her feel good. Didn't girls like having guys joking with them, being kind to them, and spending time with them? Shouldn't Hermione like him then? Well...probably not. They did fight a lot. Ron was constantly intentionally picking fights with her. It only made sense for her to like him only as a friend. Actually, now that he came to thinking about it, it really didn't make much sense for them to be friends at all! They were mean to each other! Weren't they having a fight only moments before Fred and George appeared? It was common. Of course she didn't like him like that...she probably didn't even much fancy him as a friend.

His self-esteem shot, Ron zipped up his bag and turned to leave. "Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"A walk," he responded. Ron wasn't sure where he was going to go. They had twenty minutes until Charms started. Actually, Ron didn't much feel like going to Charms today. More than anything, he kind of just wanted to sulk. Hermione's admission of not liking him was a big blow. Sure, he had just said the same thing about her, but it was different. Hermione seemed to not take it so personally, while for him, it was like being rejected.

He ended up just standing outside of the Charms classroom, waiting for Professor Flitwick to come by and unlock it (he couldn't remember that charm Hermione had used to get into the third floor corridor all of those months ago). While he was waiting for his friends, Ron decided to read Bill's letter, and it didn't improve his mood.

Dear Ron,

Do you mean the Mirror of Erised? I'd never heard of it before, but when I mentioned it to a goblin friend of mine he knew exactly what I was speaking of. It's apparently goblin-made, you see, so it's something that is common knowledge amongst them. Gornuk says that the mirror shows the viewer what they want. In fact, the word "erised" is just "desire" spelled backward.

So, I think it's obvious that you want to be successful. Harry wants a family...his family. It's very sad, and Gornuk says that many people have wasted their lives longing for the things they've seen in the mirror. Sometimes they don't even understand why they're seeing what they are. Thankfully, you and Harry have easily decipherable wishes.

I hoped this helped.

Love,

Bill

P.S. Thanks for writing to me. Fred, George, and Percy rarely think to drop me a line. It's nice to hear from someone. I miss you all so much.

Ron wanted to feel sorry for Bill for rarely hearing from anyone in the family. He wanted to feel relieved that he finally knew what it meant. He wished to feel anything except the horror that was now flooding his mind and heart. The word "desire" stuck out at him like a sore thumb amongst all the others on the parchment. The mirror showed you what you wanted...which meant that he must have wanted Hermione.

It kind of made sense, really. Why else would he be so upset about Hermione not caring for him like that? But at the same time, it was still just as confusing as ever. He couldn't want Hermione! She was just his friend! He knew it, deep in his heart. Hermione and he simply did not like each other, and he was fine with that. Wasn't he?

He wasn't sure. Hermione's attitude about Fred and George's accusations were just as indifferent as Ron had been sure he had felt, but it had stung terribly. Why didn't she have a crush on him? Surely she should by this point! But no...she didn't. Even though they spent every hour of every day together, she had no inclination toward him whatsoever. He couldn't blame her; there was nothing extraordinary or special about Ron. He was just an average wizard. He was no Harry Potter, who was the youngest Seeker in a century and who defeated Lord Voldemort at the age of one. He wasn't even a Seamus Finnigan, who had excelled at exploding everything he pointed his wand toward (well...maybe that wasn't so useful of a trait, but it was definitely something that could easily impress people). He was just boring, insignificant Ron.

"There you are!" Hermione's voice announced at the end of the hall. Ron didn't look up at her, pretending to be reading the note. He could hear her footsteps drawing near, and he fought desperately to seem as indifferent and collected as possible. "Why did you run away so fast?"

Oh, Merlin, this was hard! His ears were burning again, and for the first time in his life, Ron tried to flatten his hair around them to hide the telltale sign of embarrassment. "Oh...just...wanted to read Bill's letter," he lied. Secretly he begged whatever higher powers existed that she wouldn't notice how truly awkward he was in this moment.

"And?"

"Read it," Ron said, thrusting it toward Hermione. As her eyes roamed down the short note, Ron took several deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves.

"Oh my goodness!" Hermione exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of this? Here I was thinking the mirror showed what could have been, when really it just shows what you want in life!" Hermione's words made him want to cover his face with his hands in mortification. He did not want Hermione. He couldn't possibly! He didn't like her! He was only eleven (well...almost twelve now) for God's sake! Things like this couldn't be set in stone! Just because the mirror showed them with clasped hands, didn't mean that it was a romantic issue.

But that still didn't explain the utter disappointment he had felt only fifteen minutes ago at breakfast when Hermione described him as just a friend. Why had that bothered him so much? Why was it still bothering him even now, when the truth of it all had settled on him? She didn't like him. So what? He didn't like her either. Well, yes he did, but only as a friend.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, looking up at him with concerned eyes. "You look a tad...ill."

"Oh, it's nothing," Ron said, snatching the letter back from her.

"There's no reason to be embarrassed, you know," Hermione smoothly replied. For one wild moment, Ron was sure Hermione was onto him. How on earth had she discovered his secret?! But then she said, "I think it's positively reasonable to want to be successful."

Oh. Well, that was relatively painless. Ron shrugged and said, "Well...it's still embarrassing for me." His words came out weak and oddly quiet for him, and for a moment, Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"Were you upset by Fred and George? Is that why you really ran away?" For the second time in less than a minute, Ron wondered how in the world Hermione could be so perceptive. It was like she could read his mind!

"No," he lied.

"Ron! Don't lie to me! I can tell something's wrong. You're acting very strange."

"Alright, fine! It did bother me! Why does it matter?" Ron could feel his blood pressure starting to rise at what he knew was going to be a rather large row. He didn't want Hermione learning about how much she had hurt him earlier, so of course he was going to get defensive against her. Hermione seemed to be able to sense the impending fight as well. She indignantly crossed her arms and glared up at him in total annoyance.

"It matters, because it shouldn't upset you, Ron! They're just trying to get to you! If you let every little insult they throw at you get under your skin, you'll never be able to feel comfortable with yourself! I really do feel that a lot of your self-esteem problems come from them!"

"Just...stop, Hermione!" Ron growled angrily. "I don't want to talk about my self-esteem problems, okay? I know they're there, I deal with them daily!" He had only ever really acknowledged this issue once with Hermione, and they had both been quick to drop the subject then. Now, he could see Hermione's eyes hardening with resolve. She wanted to talk about this here and now, right before Charms. No...he wasn't going to let this happen.

"Then why don't you do something about it?" she snapped.

"You don't think I try?!"

"How?" Ron thought hard. Truthfully, he didn't know how he tried. He liked to play wizard chess against people, because it made him feel good. It also felt wonderful to be friends with the most famous wizard of their age. And any time he spent with Hermione always boosted his mood, even if their conversations often devolved into shouting matches. The sad thing was, he didn't know how to express this all to Hermione. Surely these steps and measures wouldn't be enough for her?

"It's hard," he said, feeling defeated. "I spend time with friends and that's about all I can do. I've never had friends until you guys." It was hard to admit. All his life had been spent only around his family members. It wasn't until the first day of September of last year that he had officially felt like he had found someone who cared about him beyond his family. Hermione bestowed a look of pity on him, and Ron instantly felt compelled to say, "Oh, don't...I don't want you to feel bad for me. I live in a wizard family. We're supposed to be close like that. Most young witches and wizards don't meet anyone beyond their family until Hogwarts. The only reason why I ever did was because Bill and Charlie had friends over when they went to school."

The piteous look did not leave Hermione's face though. Instead, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Ron in a tight hug. Ron didn't know what to do. His arms were pinned to his sides, and his instinct dictated for him to hug her back. He tried to move his arms upward, but they were caught. "I'm so sorry, Ron!" Hermione said with pure remorse in her voice. Ron looked down at the top of her head and tried to imagine what her face was looking like. She was probably on the verge of tears. Ron rolled his eyes at the mental image. "I just wish you wouldn't let what your brothers say bother you so much! They're just teasing you!"

It wasn't them, it was you, Ron thought toward her, wishing he could say the words aloud. But he knew he couldn't, so instead he said, "I know," and hoped Hermione would stop hugging him before people started actually filtering into the corridor. Thankfully, as soon as his voice reached her ears, she released him and backed up to give him a warm sort of smile that sent butterflies loose in his stomach.

Harry joined them a few minutes later, and together they had a whispered conversation about plans on checking up on Quirrell. Harry would take the first break of the day to swing by the classroom, Ron would look in on him after lunch, and Hermione would take a peek after lessons ended. They often did this in the beginning of the day, and found that their schedule for Quirrell watching changed frequently, depending on how much studying Hermione planned on doing throughout the course of the day. Ron rather thought the variety in their plans helped, since to him it was beginning to become rather dull, making sure that Snape hadn't shaken any information out of him.

When class began, Ron took his usual seat next to Harry at the back of the room. Hermione had moved seats since the famous troll incident, but still refused to sit at the back of the class. Instead, she sat one row in front of them, next to Neville. Today they wouldn't be using any magic, so Ron prepared himself for tedious note-taking. Instead of actually scribbling off the information that Flitwick was giving them though (something about setting fires, a subject that had Seamus Finnigan on the edge of his seat), he set his mind to the letter from Bill and the feelings he'd had earlier in the day.

Did he really want Hermione? He stared at the back of her head, as if willing the answer to fall out of it. No...he couldn't. It was a stupid thought. What if the mirror had been showing them holding hands, because it was a way to mean that he never wanted his bond with Hermione to be broken? The meaning of it all could be purely symbolic! Hope as he had never felt before filled Ron, and for a brief instant he was certain that he had stumbled upon his answer.

But no...that couldn't be it. If so, why had he been so upset when she had told him that she didn't like him this morning? Maybe it was because it just hurt to have someone say that? He'd probably feel the same way if it were any other girl in their year. Briefly, he tried to imagine Parvati Patil or Lavender Brown (the only other Gryffindor girls who were first years) telling him they had no interest in him romantically. It wouldn't surprise him; Ron hadn't said two words to either of them. But it would probably feel bad. After all, who in their right mind enjoys being rejected like that?

What if Hermione had said what she had, because he had hurt her? His eyes were positively burning now into the back of her skull, as if he could read her mind just by staring intently. What if what she had said was just a defense mechanism? It hadn't seemed like it at the time. In fact, she had seemed so nonchalant about it, that it had completely taken him aback. But that didn't mean that she wasn't a good actress.

Yes, that had to be it. Hermione had lied about not liking him. It was kind of sad, really. Just because he had told her that he had no interest in her in that way didn't mean she had to lie to him! He could take the truth! After all, it wasn't as if his denial of liking her was the end of the world. They could still be friends.

Completely forgetting that he had, in fact, been just obsessing over the events in the Great Hall that morning and that there was still the matter of what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised over Christmas break (which would, if he were more logical, refute the explanation of Hermione's lie and his not really liking her), Ron smiled cockily and leaned back in his seat, his hands resting comfortably behind his head.

"Mr. Weasley...you look comfortable!" Professor Flitwick suddenly called up to him. Ron jumped at the sound of his own name and looked down at their tiny teacher in anxiety. "Why don't you come down here and try the charm out, then?" Ron's eyes bulged at the idea. What was the charm they were covering? He couldn't remember! He didn't even have his book open to briefly look at what they were discussing!

Still, he couldn't say no either. Gulping in fear, Ron stood on his shaky legs and began the trek down the steps toward the little man on the raised platform on the floor. He couldn't remember a time when Professor Flitwick had ever called on someone in the class to demonstrate a charm like this. Flitwick himself hadn't even shown them how it was done yet! Or had he? Ron had honestly blanked out so bad that he hadn't even spotted whether or not a fire had suddenly blazed within the room.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he noticed Professor Flitwick pointing his hand toward a pile of firewood. Ron pulled out his wand as he approached it and rolled up his sleeves. Now what? He didn't even know the incantation! "Er...can you repeat the spell please? I just want to make sure I say it right," Ron said awkwardly to Flitwick. Oddly, the old man just smiled kindly.

"Of course. It's, 'Incendio.' Make sure you pronounce each syllable equally."

"Right," Ron said, lifting his wand. Crap! He didn't know what the movement was either! He considered asking, but he figured that Flitwick was smart enough to see through him at that point. Cautiously he peeked up, and instantly his eye was drawn to Hermione, who was looking at him nervously. In her hand, her own wand was making a small circular movement. Smiling confidently, Ron mimicked the movement with his own. "Incendio!" he exclaimed.

And, for the first time in this class, a spell of his worked on his very first try. Ron stared in amazement as a beautifully orange fire began to spread from one log to the next. "Oh, very good, Mr. Weasley!" Flitwick exclaimed. "I must say, I'm impressed! Five points to Gryffindor!" Ron grinned back at him and moved to leave the space at the center of the room and go back to his seat. On his way up he saw Hermione's large, congratulatory grin and felt like leaping for joy.

She wouldn't be this proud of him if she didn't like him.

* * *

Less than a week later, Ron finally decided that he did not, could not like Hermione. He scowled at her as she sat down merrily next to him in the common room, Hogwarts, A History in tow. How could she have forgotten what today was, after all the times within the last seven days that he'd spoken of it? How could she sit here and selfishly read a book she'd gone over at least twenty times now, when he was right next to her and miserable?

Harry came into the common room, his Nimbus Two-Thousand slung over his shoulder, a bounce in his step, whistling an unknown tune. Ron glared daggers at him. It was one thing that Hermione had forgotten (he supposed he could forgive her, since the stress of their impending final exams were weighing so heavily on her mind that it rather made sense for her to forget), but for Harry to was another thing altogether. Did he really mean so little to his friends that they could easily overlook such an important day to him?

"Well...I'm off to Quidditch practice," Harry said happily. "We're going to practice a new searching method. See you later!"

"Good luck!" Hermione called, never taking her eyes off of her book.

"Ugh," Ron said while rolling his eyes. Harry didn't seem to notice his discontent, but instead loped across the room and out of the portrait hole.

Ron sat back into his chair, letting his mind fall into an angry stupor. Even his own family had forgotten! All Fred and George had done today was tease him about his shirt being inside out at breakfast. Percy had only spoken to him when he had come by to stop Fred and George from making him feel terrible. Even his mum, dad, and Ginny seemed to forget what day it was. Not a single owl had landed in front of him at breakfast.

It just figured. Even at Hogwarts, when he was surrounded by so-called friends he was easily overlooked. He blended into his family so much that everyone forgot about him on the most important of days. Ron was always the last person on everyone's minds, and today was just proof of that.

"What's the matter with you?" Hermione finally asked. He could hear her book slam shut and thought ruefully that it was amazing that she'd take the time to look up from it for him.

"Nothing," he snapped back.

"You've been acting surly all day! Please tell me what's wrong," she pleaded. "It's not about Fred and George again, is it?"

"Kind of," Ron replied through gritted teeth.

"Oh, Ron, you really do need to stop allowing them to damage your self-worth so much."

"You know, it's kind of hard to work on my self-esteem when it seems that everyone I know and love has forgotten my birthday!" he finally shot at her. He had been waiting all day for an opening like this, and now it was mercifully out in the open right in front of her. For good measure, Ron looked up and gave Hermione a positively murderous look. Her mouth, he saw with grim satisfaction, was gaping and her eyes were as round as saucers.

"Oh my God!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's today, isn't it?!"

"Yep," he said.

"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry! I...I thought it was tomorrow!"

"March FIRST, Hermione!" he shouted. "MARCH FIRST!! I've been waiting all bloody day for someone to say something or spontaneously remember, but it hasn't happened. Thanks a hell of a lot! I see what I mean to you!" Without allowing her to answer, Ron jumped from his seat and stormed out of the common room.

He was halfway down the corridor when he heard her finally call after him. "Ron, wait! I'm sorry!" He could hear Hermione's feet pounding on the stone floor, but he didn't slow his pace. In fact, he sped up, hoping he'd be able to lose her. "Please, just slow down!" she called, still running. "We need to talk!"

"About what?!" he replied, turning on the spot to face her. Hermione had to skid to a halt and nearly collided with him.

"About all of this! I'm sorry, I really mean it. I...I had a party planned for tomorrow and everything. I kept thinking the first was Monday!" Hermione's eyes shone brightly with remorseful tears, and Ron instantly knew she was telling the truth. She did feel bad, and her confused mind had mistaken the date has February 29 instead of March 1. It was easily understandable, especially since this was a leap year. The calendar only complicated situations like these.

"Alright," Ron said with a sigh. He looked down at his shoes, too embarrassed to even consider apologizing for shouting at Hermione. Part of him didn't think he really had to. After all, she had forgotten about his birthday. If it was the other way around, he wouldn't have expected her to apologize for his mistake.

"And Harry...well, I kept telling him tomorrow was the first, so I must have confused him or something," Hermione said in a tiny voice. "Can you forgive me?"

"I suppose." This still didn't explain why his entire family had forgotten, though. Were they all suffering some strange mutual mental lapse where they all thought Monday was the first of March? Maybe he was the wrong one? What if it was actually February 29 today, and tomorrow was his birthday? But no...that couldn't be right! He'd looked at his calendar at least a dozen times in the last week alone.

Seeing that Ron's mood had softened (or perhaps seeing his was sufficiently confused enough to refuse), Hermione said, "Why don't we go down to Hagrid's? We might be able to get him to make you a proper cake."

Ron snorted at the idea. He wasn't sure Hagrid knew what a proper cake was. All he ever served him were those disgusting rock cakes. Still, it couldn't hurt. Maybe he'd also give them some pumpkin juice or hot cocoa? "Alright, then. Lead the way," Ron said, sweeping his arms outward and allowing Hermione to march before him.

"I really am sorry, you know," Hermione said after a few moments of silence.

"I know," Ron answered. "I just wish someone would have remembered. I hate feeling overlooked."

"Well, next year will be fifty times better, I promise," Hermione said in a kind voice.

"I'm holding you to that."

The entered the entrance hall and avoided turning into the Great Hall, where they could hear people already sitting down to eat for dinner. Ron really would rather eat in the school (from what he'd seen of Hagrid's cooking, it wasn't that spectacular), but he supposed a nice, quiet dinner would be nice too. Maybe Hagrid would remember that today was his birthday? After all, he'd told Hagrid at tea yesterday that his birthday would be, "tomorrow."

Surprised that Hermione hadn't picked up on this, he silently wondered if she really had forgotten and that the Monday issue was just an excuse to cover up for her blunder. He didn't want to think it. After all, he was important to his friends, right? They wouldn't really forget about it! They just confused the day, that was all.

They reached Hagrid's hut in silence, and Hermione stepped forward to knock on the door. Ron peeked over toward the Quidditch pitch in an attempt to see if he could catch a glimpse of Harry flying, but from this angle he could only see three people passing the quaffle and Oliver Wood by the goal posts.

"Who is it?" came Hagrid's voice.

"Hermione and Ron!" Hermione responded.

"Come in!" Hagrid called. It struck Ron as odd that Hagrid would do this. Usually he'd actually open the door. Maybe he was just busy with the kettle or something and his hands were too tied to answer.

Hermione shrugged at Ron, clearly finding this weird too, but pushed open the door resolutely. The cabin was incredibly dark when they walked in, which was incredibly unlike Hagrid. The giant man always had at least a roaring fire going, if not several lanterns. But there wasn't a single spark of a fire in there today. It was totally dark, as if their friend had been fast asleep. Ron only got to briefly feel bad for interrupting his nap, when...

"SURPRISE!!!" five separate voices all shouted simultaneously. Ron jumped, his heart instantaneously racing, and Hagrid (whose shadow he could only barely see before him), suddenly waved an object that looked like an umbrella. The room was bathed with light as the fire and lanterns lit up.

And then he saw them. Harry, Fred, George, and Percy had all been hiding in various places around the cabin, but now they were all in the act of revealing themselves. At first, Ron didn't understand. What was going on? Then it dawned on him.

"You...you guys did remember!" he said.

"Of course we did, you thick prat!" Fred said with a laugh. Ron looked around at the faces of his friends and family. Harry was grinning widely, clearly enjoying the shocked expression on Ron's face. Fred and George were wearing relatively identical smirks. Percy looked pompous as usual, but this time it was a little different. It was as if he were gloating about the fact that he had been in on the joke.

"Oh, I feel so stupid!" Ron exclaimed, bringing a hand to his face. They hadn't forgotten. They had pretended to forget so that he'd be surprised when Hermione brought him here!

"Yes, well...at least you can admit it," George replied.

"But...how did you guys get out of Quidditch practice?"

"Oliver let us take a day off. He wanted to work with the Chasers anyway," Harry said.

"And what about prefect duty?" Ron questioned Percy.

"Well, I still have to do it, but Professor McGonagall has given me the duty of patrolling the grounds. I'll be able to look in on the party from time to time," Percy said in an important, yet big brotherly sort of voice. Ron smiled at him. Even though Percy had a tendency to be quite the numpty from time to time, he still wanted him there for his birthday.

As they all settled down and Ron crossed the room to take a seat on Hagrid's bed (which was the only available space for him), Ron marveled at how well-planned out this whole party had been. There were streamers, party favors, and a flashing banner that said "Happy Twelfth, Ron!" He was just about to ask about the party preparation when Hagrid spoke up.

"Well...I guess I should start makin' dinner. Yeh like shepherd's pie, don' yeh, Ron? Only I make some of the bes' shepherd's pie in the country. At least, that's wha' Dumbledore tells me." Like Percy, Hagrid puffed his chest out importantly. Unlike Percy, it was actually endearing to see Hagrid do it.

"Sure!" Ron said. As Hagrid turned to begin cooking, Ron couldn't help but ask, "So, whose idea was this?"

"Hermione," Harry said, beaming. "We were just planning on having you open up your presents and stuff in the common room, but she said she had a better idea and came up with this."

"Really?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione in surprise. How on earth had she had the time to plan all of this? She studied far too hard and cared far too much about school to actually be capable of planning a party on top of it all. Not to mention that they'd been spending a lot of time tailing Quirrell and checking up on the forbidden corridor. Plus, she'd never been out of his sight! She must have been planning it all right in front of him and he'd never noticed it!

"Well, yes," she said with a blush. "I wanted to do something special for you, because you gave me such a great Christmas present."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw George nudge Fred and heard both of them snicker. Ron decided to ignore it, and said, "Yeah, but you gave me a great present too! And besides that, I didn't even get you a birthday present!"

"Well we weren't friends then, were we?" Hermione said.

"I suppose not," Ron mumbled guiltily. He hated thinking about how mean he used to be to her. It was nothing like he was now. "Thanks, Hermione."

"You're welcome," she said. Both of them blushed furiously and had to look away from each other for several moments.

Hagrid suggested that while the food was cooking, Ron open up his presents, and Ron quickly jumped at the opportunity so that he could forget the awkwardness that had just transpired between him and Hermione. Percy was eager for Ron to open them up before mealtime, because he had to leave soon, so it was decided that Ron would tear into them sooner rather than later.

Harry had gotten him several issues of a Muggle comic book called Batman. Ron had never heard of him, and was only slightly disappointed by the fact that the pictures didn't move. It actually looked like a pretty gorey sort of cartoon, and he found himself surprised that Muggles could have such vivid imaginations. "I stole them from my cousin Dudley's room before I came to Hogwarts. I just wanted to take something from him, because he's always been so mean to me," Harry explained. "Sorry I couldn't get you a proper gift."

"Don't be sorry! I really like it," Ron said enthusiastically.

Fred and George had gotten him a mound of Honeydukes chocolate ("It's from their shop in Hogsmeade. You'll be able to go there in third year. Just thought we'd give you a taste of what you're missing out on!"), while Percy had purchased a rather nice raven quill and ink set ("I used my own money, so you better actually use it!").

His presents from his parents and Ginny were there as well. Mrs. Weasley had made sure to gather up a similar care package as the one she'd given him for Christmas. It was filled with peanut butter fudge, Chocolate Frogs, peanut brittle, beef jerky, and candied almonds. She had also made him a brand new, Gryffindor-themed quilt, which Ron instantly imagined himself fast asleep under. Mr. Weasley had sent Ron a Muggle model aeroplane, which he had found in a shop after doing a raid on a home that was filled with singing pianos. Ginny, unable to afford a nice present (the Quaffle probably took up much of her savings), had made him a tin full of chocolate biscuits. At the bottom of the tin, there was a letter from Ginny wishing Ron a happy birthday and presenting him with a new code to try out in order to tell Ginny about the Sorting. Ron sighed and quickly stuffed it into his pocket out of sight.

Hermione hadn't been able to get Ron a gift, but that was fine with him. She had, after all, organized this party for him, which was more than he'd ever asked for. Actually, it was all a little too much. He'd never gotten so many presents before or even a party. Usually he got a galleon or two and a nice cake. But this year, his family and friends had definitely spoiled him.

"Dinner's ready!" Hagrid announced after a while, and everyone excitedly gathered around the table. The food was actually amazing. Hagrid clearly excelled at making meals rather than snacks. He, of course, offered them rock cakes to go along with their shepherd's pie, but barely anybody touched them. Instead, they marveled at how wonderful their main course tasted.

"I grew all the ingredients meself," Hagrid said with a smile after Hermione complimented him for the fifth time. "Have I ever shown yeh all me garden in the back?"

"Nope," Harry said through a mouthful of food. "What all do you grow?"

"'Tatos, carrots, peas, pumpkins, beans. All sorts o' things. I love me garden almost as much as I love dragons, I think." Ron felt suddenly nervous, but tried to fight it off. He'd forgotten about Hagrid asking for his book. He'd given it over very reluctantly, but it had quickly slipped his mind, because of all of the worry over Snape and Quirrell. Still, he chose to ignore it again, and went back to his meal.

The dinner quickly became all about Ron. Everyone was keen to discuss their big surprise, and he wasted no time in assuring them that he'd been very angry at every single one of them for seemingly forgetting that it was his birthday. He couldn't help but notice the wicked sort of smiles that spread across the twins' faces, and he scowled in their direction. No doubt they enjoyed making him suffer as he had done.

Somehow, the conversation turned from talking about the present to speaking of the past. As they ate, they all shared their favorite memories with him. Fred and George mentioned the time their Auntie Muriel's parrot had landed on Ron's head and wouldn't get off (Harry had pumpkin juice spray from his nose at their description). Percy told a surprisingly amusing story about Ron's obsession with cheese that he'd had two summers ago ("I couldn't stand to be in a room with him. The smell was ungodly!").

"Then he punched Draco in the face!" Hermione said through tears of mirth as she recounted Ron's fight with Malfoy at the Quidditch match. Fred and George clapped him on the back while Percy gave him a glare that clearly said that he'd be telling their parents about this. "Of course, I would have stopped him if I was paying attention, but I was too focused on Harry catching the snitch."

"I think you just wanted me to beat him up," Ron said. "You wouldn't have stopped me even if you knew what was going on. Oh, Merlin, the best part of it was Neville!" Ron smiled reminiscently at the furious look on Neville's face as he leapt over the seats and began trying to take on Crabbe and Goyle.

"He got in on the action?" George asked, completely enamored with the story.

"Oh yes!" Ron said with a grin.

"Poor Neville...he was out cold. I don't know why you think that's such a good memory," Hermione remarked, frowning.

"Well, you brought it up! And at any rate, he would have been able to take them on I think, if he'd had the high ground. I just thought it was good that he stuck up for himself for once."

"I suppose," Hermione conceded. Fred gave Ron a look as if to ask if he really thought Neville could have taken on Crabbe and Goyle. All Ron could do was shake his head, and Fred smirked.

"Well, as fun as it is to hear about you breaking school rules, Ronald, I really must go," Percy pompously announced.

"Don't worry, Perce, Madame Pomfrey already punished me," Ron assured him.

"Oh, well...that's good. And you told Mum and Dad?"

"Of course!" Ron tried to wear a face that looked as innocent as possible. It wouldn't do for Percy to run off to their parents and tell them about this, especially since Hagrid was supposed to be keeping an eye out on Ron. If they discovered that Hagrid was exaggerating about how great Ron's behavior and grades were, they'd never trust either of them again.

"Well, alright then," Percy said. "I'll just be off. I think...yes...Penelope Clearwater is waiting outside for me. We're supposed to be patrolling the grounds together. I'll check in again in a bit." He puffed himself out importantly and strode out of the door.

"Yes, because we'll be getting too rowdy," Fred remarked once Percy was gone. "We need to be babysat by Percy the Perfect Prefect." Both twins scowled at these words and Ron looked at them curiously. Could it be possible that the twins had self-esteem issues too? They seemed jealous of Percy. Otherwise, they wouldn't have described him as perfect, would they? For the first time in his life, Ron felt true sympathy toward both of them. They must have felt a bit like he did. After all, the brother who preceded them was practically best in everything he did. How could they possibly compete with that?

Hermione sensed the tension too and quickly sought to change the subject. "Hagrid...didn't you have another treat for us?"

"Oh, tha's right!" Hagrid jumped up, his large belly knocking into the table and spilling the rest of Ron's shepherd's pie onto the floor. Fang leapt up from his basket on the floor and quickly gobbled it up before Ron could do anything about it. He was just picking up his plate when he heard Hagrid say in a rather loud voice, "Happy birthday, Ron!"

When he looked up, Ron saw an enormous chocolate cake upon the table. It was so big that Ron imagined it would take several days for them to eat. The words, "Happy Birthdae Ron!" were written upon it in red and gold icing, and Hagrid had clearly attempted to draw pictures on it as well. There was something in brown icing that looked like a broomstick, something else that could have been the Chudley Canons logo, and a figure that was probably a dragon, but had been smeared to the point of looking like a large green blob.

"Wicked!" Ron remarked. The very little part of Hagrid's skin that showed on his face went pink with an embarrassed sort of happiness.

"I'll get the candles!" Harry said, jumping up from his seat and reaching up into a cupboard where he pulled down some thin candles. After placing them into the cake, Fred lit them with his wand, and everyone fell into a hushed silence.

"Make a wish," Hermione said with an excited smile.

Ron didn't know what to wish for. He was so marvelously happy that it felt like he had everything he ever needed. He thought hard and stared into the flames. Then, finally, he wished for the only thing that occurred to him.

I wish to always be this happy.

* * *

Ron's wish didn't come true, of course. Happiness is entirely dependent on how one perceives the situation they are in. Unfortunately, Ron Weasley was the type of person that saw the downsides to everything. And right now, it was kind of hard for Ron to see any good coming from the situation he was in.

It was a week and a half after the birthday party, and Ron found himself once again inside of Hagrid's hut. But this time, there was no party, no celebration of any sort, and definitely not any excitement, at least not on the part of the trio of friends currently trying to talk sense into Hagrid.

They had come to Hagrid's today on his invitation after witnessing him checking out books on dragons in the library. Ron had tried to convince himself that Hagrid was just studying up on them, because of Ron's idea that he go and volunteer at a dragon preserve during summer. Yet Harry and Hermione had been so grim about the situation, that it began to dawn on him that maybe he'd actually mistaken Hagrid's interest in them.

It turned out that he had. Hagrid had revealed to them only a few moments ago that he was now the owner of a dragon egg that he was pretty sure was a Norwegian Ridgeback.

"Hagrid, you live in a wooden house," Hermione tried to reason. Hagrid shrugged and waved his hand as if this was no big deal.

"So, is that why you wanted that book about dragons that you bought me for Christmas?" Ron asked, staring down at the egg with distaste. He did like dragons, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he'd rather learn about them from afar than up close.

"Oh, o' course not! I told yeh, I on'y got this egg las' night. I wanted yer book, 'cause I was thinkin' 'bout volunteerin' like you suggested." Hagrid replied.

Hermione gave him a perplexed look, but it was Harry who outright asked about it. "What do you mean volunteer?"

"I told him that if he loves dragons, he should volunteer at a preserve like the one Charlie works on. That way he can be close to them, but he doesn't have to run the risk of doing anything illegal...like he's doing."

"Oh, Ron, that's a wonderful idea!" Hermione squealed, jumping out of her seat. "Hagrid, you should do that! You can send your egg to the preserve of your choice and then see it over the summer! It'll be just like it's your pet, but it'll be more free!"

"I can' do tha'!" Hagrid exclaimed. "The egg can' be outta the fire more'n a half an hour! It would never make it to a preserve alive!" Hermione sat down with a sigh, a thoroughly defeated look on her face. Ron shrugged at her, trying to mentally communicate that she'd done her best, but it still didn't stop her from looking dismayed.

When they went to leave, Hagrid stopped Ron at the door. "Look...I may be needin' a bit o' help when the dragon is born. I figure you probably know more abou' them than most people, and I do want to keep this secret between just the three o' us. Would yeh mind...erm...comin' by every now an' then to help me take care o' him?" Ron gave Hagrid a look that clearly indicated that he was out of his mind, but Hermione nudged him encouragingly, and Ron felt he had no other option.

"Er...sure, Hagrid," he said.

When Hagrid was back inside and they were trudging up toward the castle, Hermione rounded on him. "Why did you agree?! Are you insane?!"

"No...I thought you wanted me to. You were nudging me, and I thought that meant I should say yes!"

"No, Ron! I was nudging you to let you know you should let him down more gently!" Hermione exclaimed in a terrified voice. Harry looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Since when do you do everything Hermione tells you to?" Harry questioned.

"I don't know! I'm not good with situations like that! I panicked!" Ron snapped back.

"Oh, I feel sick," Hermione said. "Please be careful, Ron. I don't want you getting seriously injured, and if you do it'll get Hagrid sacked, and then we won't have anything to do on Friday afternoons besides studying, and I love studying, but I don't think I could take it that much. I need those afternoon tea times with Hagrid. I need them!" Hermione sounded hysterical. Her voice was getting higher and higher pitched, and Ron had to dig his fingers in his ears to block it out.

"Alright, relax!" Ron said. "I'll be careful, I promise. Okay?" Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. Ron sighed and kept marching up the hill, hoping beyond everything that all of this dragon nonsense was just a bad dream. Hopefully it wouldn't be too bad, though. How big could a dragon in an egg that small be? He knew that they grew fast, but it wouldn't be that long before Hagrid gave it up as a lost cause, he was sure of it.

"At least one good thing came out of that visit," Harry said with a sigh. "We now know a little bit about all of the people protecting the Stone."

"Yeah," Ron said. Hermione was still too frantic to respond. "And who knows? Maybe they'll find out about the dragon and chuck it down there too for good measure?"