Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By Moon Weasley

Chapter Nine:

Quidditch and Quarrels

After Harry had left the Common Room to see Dumbledore, Ron was unmercifully stranded in the sole company of his ruddy sister. He could sense her standing behind him and immediately an unpleasant mental picture of Ginny wringing her fingers in delight and grinning madly came to mind. She was probably revelling at the chance to tease him senseless like she always did whenever he managed to bungle something up.

True as it might be that Ron on occasion had proved to be a smidge denser than the average chap (at least with regards to certain things), he was still not a complete idiot. For instance he knew perfectly well that he'd just managed to screw up his recently mended friendship with Hermione - again. Ron seemed to be doing that a lot lately, but the trouble was that he never noticed until the damage had been done, so to speak.

Exhaling noisily Ron rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, uncertainly wondering what his next step should be. He absolutely loathed having to admit defeat but, truth be told, Ron really didn't have the foggiest idea what went on inside girls' heads. Their reasoning and actions seemed to be frighteningly void of clear patterns or logic, and even Hermione who normally frowned upon any person who didn't love rules and logic to the same extent as she did, was slowly developing some unmistakeable girly traits. A crystal clear flashback of Hermione clad in beautiful light blue dress robes and sleek hair had for some reason been more or less permanently imprinted on his mind ever since the Yule Ball. Why did she have to go and change on them like that?

This whole "girl-metamorphosis-process" Hermione seemed to be in the middle of completing was boarding on spooky. Ron shuddered involuntarily. But even though Ron personally wasn't especially eager to explore the confusing world of girl thinking, he knew that his lack of knowledge on the subject was earning him more and more "badwill" with Hermione. Keep this up, Ron thought sulkily, and you'll soon lose her friendship for sure.

He trudged despondently over to the fireplace and dumped down in one of the good armchairs. Sighing loudly he hid his face in his hands, trying hard to envisage and fast-forward to find the scene where he'd supposedly messed up. Ron heard Ginny padding softly towards the chair next to him, and he instinctually braced himself for an agonizing taunting session. On a bad day Ginny was definitely worse than Fred and George combined something that really was an achievement, he thought despairingly.

But, surprising Ron royally, Ginny skipped the anticipated teasing and instead put her hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked quietly making Ron briefly wonder if someone with the aid of a healthy dose of Polyjuice Potion was impersonating his sister and getting their jollies by playing nasty mind games on him. He removed his freckly hands from his equally freckled face and looked at Ginny with ample amounts of unconcealed scepticism. This had to be some sort of trap. Ginny never let a good opportunity to mock him go to waste.

"Nice try, sis," he said wryly, "but I will under no circumstance fall for the "nice-sister-act" so you can just drop it." He scowled menacingly at her. Ginny slowly released the grip on his shoulder and sank down on the chair next to him.

"I'm not going to tease you about this," she answered looking frightfully sincere. "Grown a conscience, have you?" Ron asked sardonically still unable to phantom that his youngest sibling was acting with compassion in a situation like this. Ginny squirmed under his unwavering glare. She truly did feel sorry for Ron and she'd decided to be nice to him for a change. Yet still she had an overwhelming urge to poke a little fun at his expense.

But looking at him slouching in the chair looking more like a depressed gorilla than anything else, Ginny realized that Ron obviously knew he'd somehow hurt Hermione's feelings. Yet knowing Ron's tendency to display acute denseness on a regular basis, she doubted he'd puzzled together how he'd done it. Her brother was clearly in dire need of a basic introduction to the complex nature of girls and judging by the number of rows he'd managed to entangle himself in with Hermione the last couple of days, this introduction was clearly way over due...

From his extremely ungraceful position half lying half sitting with his huge feet propped up on the hearth, Ron was doing his best to glower menacingly. His body language quite clearly told Ginny that he didn't trust her intentions at all and taking past incidents into consideration, she really couldn't blame him She had spent the better part of her life taunting him at all possible occasions; that much was true. But then again he never let an opportunity to tease her go to waste either. Ron obviously needed to be convinced that her intentions were, for once, pure.

Sighing deeply, Ginny decided to give him some proof to her sincerity.

"I hereby propose a peace treaty with you, Ron. I promise to never tease you about anything that has occurred or been said today. If I ever breach this agreement, you may name one thing I have to do in front on everybody during dinner in the Great Hall."

Ron raised an intrigued eyebrow and she could see that she had caught his attention.

"Anything?" he asked disbelievingly and Ginny nodded. After a brief moment, Ron turned his head to face her reached out his hand for her to shake.

"It's a deal then. And Ginny, I want this in writing, meticulously signed and wand-stamped!"

After the formalities of the agreement was put to parchment and left to dry, Ron and Ginny sat in silence for a few minutes, both staring into the fireplace. Finally Ron broke the silence.

"What did I do wrong back there?" Needless to say he felt somewhat embarrassed having to turn to his little sister on this, but he really was at a complete loss. "I really don't understand girls!" he blurted out, immediately blushing beet red as the idiocy of his outburst hit him.

Ginny giggled. "That, dear brother of mine, is an understatement." She smiled at him and Ron grimaced.

"I mean all I did was point out that I didn't flirt with her. How come that made her so angry? Last year when Rita Skeeter wrote about Hermione being Harry's girlfriend, she was really upset about it. I know she acted like she didn't give a toss about it, but deep down I know it bothered her having everyone gossip about her like that. I thought she wouldn't want anyone saying anything like that about us." Ron was scratching his arm nervously. He'd never had a conversation like this with Ginny before and he felt a bit awkward about it. "I really thought I was saying the right thing for once, you know."

Ginny couldn't help but smirk at her brother. It was oddly satisfying having him turn to her for advise and answers. For the first time she felt as though she wasn't just the little sister anymore, but rather an equal. She could see that he didn't particularly appreciate her smirk and so she quickly replaced her grin with a mock-serious expression making him roll his eyes.

"I think it is about time you got acquainted with Ginny Weasley's ABC to healthy boy-girl relationships, Lesson one: Never deny flirting," Ginny said knowingly reminding Ron all too much of his mother. "The what?" Ron looked bewildered. "Are you suggesting I take "girl-lessons" from you?" He let out an incredulous snort and shook his head in disbelief.

Ginny just gave him a resigned look. "Do you want to know why you managed to agitate Hermione just now, or not?" Ron shifted uncomfortable in his chair looking about as relaxed as Colin Creevy on caffeine high. Having squirmed for a few seconds he finally gave his sister an affirmative nod. "Okay then Professor, on with the lesson," he barked tetchily still not entirely at ease with the situation.

"Good decision, brother dearest," Ginny praised snootily setting of a wave of sighs and groans from Ron. She however expertly ignored his growling and pressed on. "You see this Ron, when you stated that flirting with Hermione was, and I believe the word you used was preposterous, a horrid choice of wording by the way, you hurt her feelings because that made her think you don't find her attractive and pretty."

This statement was awarded by a very pointed look from Ron that clearly suggested a permanent residency at St. Mungo's psychic ward might not be a bad idea. Ginny quickly continued with her explanation.

"This doesn't mean that she necessarily wants you to like her like that. And by that I mean like as in have feelings for her. But all girls thrive to hear that they are special, pretty, charming and so on. And if someone flirts with them, they are flattered. And that's why she got mad. Saying that you wasn't flirting was in many was saying that you think she's an ogre. And that's how you hurt her feelings, Ron."

Clearly Ginny's rapt explanation took a while for Ron to digest, but after a brief moment of hard thinking he seemed to cotton on.

"I really didn't mean to imply that," he said almost inaudibly. "I had no idea girls think like that." He looked at his sister and gave her a small, yet grateful smile.

"You girls sure are complicated. Got any more useful advise from this promising ABC of yours for a dense git?"

Ginny let out a small laugh. "No, I think this was more than enough for one evening. Wouldn't want to overload you on your first lesson."

Ron chuckled. "Yeah, you know me; reluctant to even try to store too much information at once. Just ask Professor McGonagall, I'm sure she'll concur."

"Probably," Ginny replied wryly. "But you really should find Hermione and apologize." Ron nodded.

"I know. Any idea where I might find her?"

"I'd try the library first if I were you."

"Yes off course," Ron said clasping a hand to his forehead. "It'll be just like 'Mione to seek refuge in her precious books when one of her useless airhead friends insults her." He rolled his eyes and shook his head to emphasize what exactly he thought of Hermione's bookish tendencies. He did however do this without any malice Ginny mirthfully noted as he headed towards the portrait hole. He's clueless as a goose, yet eager to find her, Ginny mentally noted and for a brief second she seriously considering following him down there. But she quickly decided against it knowing she had no place spying on a private moment like that.

"He really has got it bad. Pity he's so oblivious, though," she said quietly to herself and headed up the stairs to her dormitory to fetch her Transfiguration book. "And by Scamander's Beast, when did he start calling her 'Mione?"

* * *

Hermione had indeed gone to the library. She was in a raging mood upon arriving, earning herself a raised eyebrow and a stern look from Madam Pince as she recklessly searched through the shelves for something interesting to help put her mind off the ever-insufferable Ron. She eventually settled for a voluminous book on advanced Arithmancy (Got a number, get a clue by Celina von der Schlieder) and settled down in the farthest corner of the library.

Ten minutes later however she hadn't even completed the first paragraph of the prologue. After struggling with the text for a few more minutes, Hermione finally gave up, slammed the book shut and surrendered to her thoughts. Her head slid down to rest in her hands and she sighed deeply. The library was completely silent and she could practically hear her own thoughts. This was so frustrating!

Hermione knew perfectly well that she'd acted like a raging lunatic back in the common room earlier. Ron's outburst had hurt her fragile and infatuated little heart, but that still didn't justify her irrational and childish reaction, now did it?

He obviously didn't have any feelings for her, at least not the kind of feelings that she wished he had. And Hermione couldn't really be angry with him for that. It's not like you choose who you love, now is it, she thought miserably.

Oh, when had life become so difficult?

To Hermione it seemed like she'd just gone to bed one night, perfectly happy and content with her life and then wham the next morning everything had been turned up side down. Voldemort was back, Death Eaters had begun disturbing the peace and tranquillity of the wizarding world and somewhere in between these momentous events Ron had suddenly become... cute.

And adoring. And charming. And inconsiderate. Not to mention hot-tempered and dense and everything in between.

So despite all his faults and shortcomings, Ron had become everything to Hermione. He was the first thing she thought of when she woke in the morning and the last before she fell asleep. Even her dreams were infested with Ron and suddenly even the smallest thing could remind her of him.

Hermione blushed. She was slowly turning into one of those sappy lovesick heroines that Ginny's romance novels were full of. When she thought about it the whole thing was pretty appalling. She was sitting in the library for god's sake pining away over dense, bumbling Ron Weasley.

She sighed deeply, feeling a strange ache in her heart. There had been times when she'd believed that maybe, just maybe Ron felt the same way. Like when he stood up to Malfoy to defend her, and how he tended to react like a madman to anything even slightly related to Krum. But now she knew that this had just been her imagination. She had been clinging on to a distant hope that maybe just maybe something might happen between them in time.

But now she knew differently. And it hurt.

And as if her personal heartache wasn't causing her enough trouble, she'd also managed to thoroughly embarrass herself this evening. Throwing childish tantrums in the common room just because Ron wouldn't admit to flirting. Honestly, what had she been thinking? And of course she had to do so with Ginny and Harry as stunned witnesses.

Hermione groaned. They weren't stupid so naturally they'd guessed her reasons for acting like a two-year-old. Ginny was actually famous among the Gryffindor girls for her uncanny ability to puzzle together signs, however subtle or inconspicuous, about the latest crushes and budding romances around her. If she didn't cotton on this time no one would, Hermione thought fretfully feeling sweat forming on her forehead. Harry might be a tad slower on the uptake when it came to matters of the heart, but for a guy he was quite alert. They'd probably already guessed why she'd bit Ron's head off like that, and the mere thought of facing them again was devastating. How could she look them in the eye, knowing that they knew - about Ron?

Ron! Oh no!

An awful and most unwelcome thought entered Hermione's mind. What if Ron too had pieced it together? Hermione whimpered just thinking about it. She would just die of embarrassment if that were the case. Knowing Ron he would probably tease her senseless, broadcast it to everyone and simply have a field day. Oh God, this was a nightmare. Please tell me this is just a nightmare, she screamed silently. There was absolutely no way things could get any worse than this.

She was wrong.

"Come to seek comfort in your precious books, Granger? Potter and Weasley weren't up for the usual gang-bang this evening?"

Draco Malfoy's bored drawling was just inches away from her ear. Quickly and on impulse Hermione reached inside her robes for her wand. Malfoy chortled at his own insult obviously finding it immensely amusing, while looking down on her with visible repulsion.

"Don't tell me Potter have finally come to his senses and decided not to go slumming and have interludes of the intimate kind with simple Mudbloods like yourself?" He smirked and drew his tight lips into a sly smile. "As for Weasley, I suppose there really isn't any hope of him finding anyone better knowing his poor family history. But if even he has left your side, then I suppose you really have hit rock bottom." Malfoy bent over her, his face only inches from hers.

"What's the matter Granger? Cat got your tongue? I was under the impression that you always knew what to say." He smirked malevolently. "Tut tut, Ms. Granger, not on top of things as usual this evening, are you? How scandalous."

"Go kiss a Boggart's ass, Malfoy!" Hermione hissed in a low, calm voice, staring the Slytherin straight in the eye. She was definitely not in the mood to sit around the library tossing insults back and forth all evening with this Neanderthal. Snorting conceitedly Hermione turned her attention back to her riveting reading material, refusing to take his bait.

"Language, Granger," Malfoy retorted twirling his wand ominously in his hands. "Surely a Prefect such as yourself shouldn't speak so foully. Tsk tsk, what would McGonagall say?"

"Funny you should mention my Prefect status, Malfoy," Hermione commented offhandedly piercing him with a haughty glare. "Better tread carefully around me if you want to keep up your current level of popularity among other Slytherins. I doubt they'll appreciate walking into the Great Hall for breakfast tomorrow and find a substantial amount of points having mysteriously vanished overnight." Hermione saw Malfoy puff out his chest clearly ready to give her a piece of his mind. Eager to end her chat with this prat Hermione decided to offer Malfoy a truce of sorts before his wounded pride made him do foolish things.

"If you want to stay in the library, fine by me," she said with a sigh. "I mean it is public area after all. However I would appreciate if you could find another table to cast your muck on, please. That shouldn't be a problem really, seeing as we are the only ones in here, and there are like two hundred seats available. Now shush!" She waved a disinterested hand at him and propped the Arithmancy book up against the table lamp, effectively hiding Malfoy's pale mug from her view.

"Watch your mouth, bitch!" Draco's voice cracked as he spoke and Hermione couldn't help but snicker.

"Having problems controlling your vocal chords, Malfoy?" she asked in her most patronizing voice, peering over the top of her book. "Honestly, you squeal like a girl. Perhaps you should go see Madam Pomfrey about that? Or have you perhaps been withholding vital information about your true gender, Dracona?"

Malfoy now looked to be quite agitated and taking a step back from Hermione, he raised his arm denunciatory.

"Don't get smart with me, you filthy little Mudblood or I'll make you regret ever enrolling at Hogwarts." His usual grey eyes were now black with anger, and Hermione was slowly starting to regret having provoked him. Feeling a slight wave of panic forming in the pit of her stomach, she couldn't help but wonder how she could end this little spat without resorting to violence. Judging by Malfoy's intense spluttering and hateful glares the opportunity for a peaceful resolve was looking dimmer by the minute.

Feeling her heartbeat quicken Hermione watched as in slow motion Malfoy brandish his wand from a holster in his belt. Oh dear God, she thought worriedly. The situation had undeniably taken a most unwelcome turn. Surely he wouldn't hex her, would he?

Everyone knew that hexing a fellow student was strictly forbidden according to the Prefect's manual, and it was her sworn duty to stop him and reprimand him accordingly. Yet as she watched Malfoy raise the wand pointing it directly at her, all thoughts of point deduction and detentions left her, and instead she frantically began preparing her defence.

But although her mind was working overtime, the only intelligible thing she seemed to come up with was to make a run for it. If presented with a quill and parchment and asked to dot down all the spells, charms and hexes she knew, Hermione would probably be able to produce an equal number of scrolls as the remaining student body combined. But theoretical knowledge aside, the fact still remained that she'd never duelled before. She'd read about it off course, but never practiced it. Lockhart's pathetic duelling club in second year had never gotten her any experience beyond common fist fighting. And by the look of things she was just seconds away from her formal duelling debut. This most certainly was not turning out a good day!

"I suggest you put down your wand immediately, Malfoy if you value your health!"

The voice came from somewhere behind Malfoy, and Hermione's heart skipped (at least) three beats. Draco whirled around only to find Ron standing there, his wand trained directly at him with a furious look on his face.

"Ah the timely arrival of the paid bodyguard. Saving up for a new broom are you, Weasel?" Malfoy asked patronizingly, but Hermione thought she saw a wave of apprehension graze his features. Ron shot him a contemptuous glare and smiled derisively.

"Insults will get you nowhere, Malfoy. You're just lucky I'm in a relatively good mood today, you Slytherin sleazebag. Is this how you get your kicks? By terrorising lone girls in the library?" Ron tutted disapprovingly. "That's really...manly of you."

Malfoy sneered angrily and began reeling off the usual insults about Ron's poverty, his plump mother, the multitude of hand-me-downs as well as his sidekick status but for once Ron looked completely unfazed by the Slytherins venomous words. Hermione was awestruck. A calm and controlled Ron Weasley was incredibly fascinating to watch!

Ron listened patiently to Malfoy's patented rant with a bored look on his face. Obviously sensing that Ron was not going to take his bait this time, Malfoy stopped in mid-insult and stared suspiciously at the Gryffindor. Ron however ignored the intense scrutiny entirely.

"I'm feeling very generous of spirit right now and I'll give you until the count of five to lower your wand and leave. If you don't comply I'll be forced to copy that hex we put on you and your miserable minions onboard the Hogwarts Express a couple of months ago. Remember that one, Dracky? Probably left you feeling slightly battered for days I would imagine." Ron grinned wickedly as Draco winced slightly, obviously reliving the experience in his mind.

"Well, what's it gonna be? The clock's ticking, you know? Tick tack, tick tack."

Ron gained on Draco and was now towering over the pale boy. Without Crabbe and Goyle at his beck and call, Draco soon seemed to realize that fighting Ron would be nothing short of a sheer kamikaze-stunt, and with some reluctance he lowered his wand and slinked away from the library.

"Just as you know it Weasel, this is by no means over," he hissed rancorously. "I'll get you eventually, and that's a promise." Ron simply shrugged indifferently.

"Look at him go, the coward!" Ron exclaimed loudly looking quite pleased with himself as he put his wand back in his belt. "Always knew he was just all words and no action."

He did a silly sort of victory dance in front of the Advanced Charms shelve (Q-S) and in his enthusiasm almost knocked a huge book on Sheep Shearing Charms over. Hermione however didn't bother reprimanding him for his incautiousness. She was too busy regaining control of her raging heart. Holding on to the edge of the table for balance, Hermione felt somewhat shaky but most of all grateful that she wouldn't need to duel after all.

"Thank you, Ron," she said precariously and blushed. She watched the tall redhead abandon his dancing routine and turn to face her. She gave him a tentative smile, and was relieved to find him returning it full force.

"Always at your service, madam," he said with flair and bowed gallantly. Hermione giggled.

But as soon as her titters subsided they found themselves rooted to their respective spots, staring at each other without saying a word. That is until they both started speaking at the same time.

"I just wanted to..."

"Ron, I'm really sorry..."

"You first," Ron said and Hermione dumped back into her chair, nervously fiddling with them hem of her robes. This was difficult.

"I'm sorry about before," she started almost inaudibly. Ron promptly took a seat opposite her.

"I mean about the scene in the common room. I really shouldn't have snapped at you like that." She looked at him, meeting his eyes and cursed inwardly as her cheeks immediately broke into a blush. Naturally Hermione couldn't tell him the real reason for why she'd lost her head, but she still wanted to apologize. Just hope he accepts my grovelling unconditionally, she thought anxiously.

Ron however made it easy for her.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. It's really me who should apologize to you," he said calmly making Hermione snap her head up and stare wide-eyed at him. Ronald Weasley was apologising again - willingly? What on earth had gotten into this boy lately?

"I had a sort of enlightening conversation with Ginny after you - eh... got a bit carried away, and she gave me a little lecture on how girls think." He blushed as he admitted this and Hermione thought she'd never seen him looking cuter. Stop thinking like that, she ordered herself sternly. It'll only make it harder getting over him. And she desperately needed to get over this stupid crush. Honestly, he'll never think of you as anything but his know-it-all friend.

"Well, she explained it all to me."

Oh dear god, not everything I hope. Hermione felt a wave of panic spreading through her body. How could Ginny be that cruel? Just wait until I get a hold of Harry, Hermione thought vindictively. The things I can tell him will make him blush beet red for weeks...

"I think I kind of understand a bit more about why you got your knickers in a twist earlier." He shot her a maddening grin and Hermione felt certain her cheeks were about to catch fire. He knows, he knows, he knows, she chanted frantically and briefly wondered if she should just make a run for it before utter embarrassment would occur. His next words therefore completely threw her off balance.

"I'm sorry I said that flirting with you is preposterous. You know, because... it really isn't. Eh, it's not preposterous I mean..." Hermione's heart was suddenly doing some very intricate flips. "I mean...eh...you're not at all ugly. Er, you know, you're actually the exact opposite of ugly."

Hermione was ecstatic!!

This was the most flattering thing anyone had ever told her. (Well, not really but this was RON speaking!) She leapt to her feet and positively flung herself around his neck. Ron was clearly taken by surprise and lost his balance and toppling over they both ended up in a heap on the floor. Embarrassed they quickly staggered to their feet, but Hermione distinctly felt a burning sensation from where Ron had accidentally touched her arm that sent tingles of joy throughout her entire body.

They looked at each other nervously, both at a momentary loss for what to say or do next.

"So," said Ron finally, "does this mean we're back on speaking terms?" He arched a questioning eyebrow at Hermione and she could little do but nod. There was something so downright charming about his demeanour that she'd trouble finding her voice. Ron didn't seem to take any notice of her speak impairment however because he continued talking rapidly as if nothing even remotely awkward had happened just seconds before.

"Whoa, that has got to be a new record for us, don't you think? Friends again, and only," Ron did a quick Time-telling Charm, "forty-seven minutes after the argument started. Harry's not gonna freaking believe this." He threw her a lopsided grin that immediately set of a wave of tingly butterflies in Hermione's stomach. Eager not to let Ron cotton on to the well of emotions he was stirring in her, she quickly gathered all her books and quills and impatiently pushed a tittering Ron out of the library.

Safely back in Gryffindor Tower Hermione couldn't help but notice Ron giving Ginny what he obviously thought was an inconspicuous thumbs-up. She resisted the urge to ask Ginny for a detailed blow-by-blow of the conversation she'd had with her brother earlier. The decision not to pry was largely helped by the fact that Ginny kept giving Hermione some rather knowing smirks, jerking her head in Ron's direction and arching her eyebrow questioningly. Blushing like there was no tomorrow Hermione quickly busied herself with unloading her book bag. After some coaxing she managed to persuade Ron to study with her, but their concentration only lasted so long. They soon gave up and were in the middle of a friendly game of chess when Harry entered the common room much later that evening.

They both looked up simultaneously and gave him a wave from across the room. Harry stood rooted to the spot for several moments, hardly believing his eyes. His shocked expression made Ron and Hermione burst out laughing. Not getting a reaction from the Zombie-like Harry, they shrugged and turned their attention back to the ongoing game. Hermione had managed to make two downright stupid moves and Ron was grinning like a madman obviously mentally celebrating his victory already, when Harry finally found his voice.

"What the hell happened here?"

Ron immediately whipped his head back smiling smugly. "I'm winning mate, that's what's happening! Brainy as she is, she hasn't got a strategic bone in her body, I think."

Hermione swatted Ron playfully over the head with a cushion. "No need to gloat beforehand, you twit, I might just turn this game around."

"Oh yes," Ron quipped sarcastically with a wink in Harry's direction, "that's a likely turn of events. About as realistic as Malfoy marrying a Muggleborn."

Watching Hermione and Ron continue talking in this sickening flirtatious manner, Harry concluded that this most definitely had been a day unlike any other...

*

Having eventually recovered from the shock of seeing Ron and Hermione having resolved their differences in record time, Harry joined his two friends and watched silently as they finished their game. They didn't offer him any explanation to the quick make-up and he didn't ask. Some things were better left alone, and Harry knew he would never really grasp the complexity of his best friends relationship anyhow. It was confusing enough to witness, understanding it would probably board on the impossible.

After everyone had returned to their dormitories that evening, the three of them huddled together in front of the fireplace and Harry told them everything that had happened during his meeting with Dumbledore. Ron was astonished to hear that his parents were enrolled in the Order of the Phoenix. After wailing a bit about being kept in the dark and treated like a child, he soon let the matter rest. Although he didn't say anything more about it, his eyes seemed to gleam with something that Harry recognized as pride.

Hermione and Ron were both overly excited that Harry to had been accepted as a member of the Order of the Phoenix and even though they were not permitted to partake they seemed happy enough that Dumbledore at least trusted them enough to let them in on the secret.

All three sat up for hours discussing what Dumbledore had told Harry about the mysterious Strinx, but as morning drew closer they hadn't come any nearer a conclusion. They finally retreated to their dormitories for a couple hours of much needed sleep, and returned to breakfast the next morning pale and with bags under their eyes from lack of rest.

Ginny instantly noticed their drawn faces and was rather displeased to learn that they had stayed up for so long without including her. When she asked them what they'd been talking about, all three acted evasive and made horrifyingly poor attempts to turn the conversation over to other topics. Giving them all an offensive look, Ginny gathered her plate and goblet and marched off to sit next to Max further down the table. Ron and Harry both grunted and scowled so menacingly at the poor boy throughout the entire meal that Max visibly cringed every time they made eye contact.

"Stop it you two, you're turning the poor guy into a nervous wreck with your scowling," Hermione reprimanded giving the boys a stern look. Ron and Harry simply shrugged and continued the glaring, finally causing Max to choke on his sausage. That seemed to cheer them up a bit judging by their amused grins, but even after nearly causing the Germans death by suffocation, they refused to leave the table until Max had recovered from the choking, finished his meal and headed off for class - without Ginny.

Hiding a smile (she didn't want them to think she condoned such behaviour), Hermione had to admit that their urge to protect Ginny was adorable. Still, she had an inkling that the girl in question would only put up with this fussing for so long. Hermione had no desire to be in their shoes or in the close vicinity for that matter when the Volcano named Ginny erupted...

* * *

The next week passed pleasantly without any extraordinary events taking place. Naturally the Slytherins were as bad as always, and Draco Malfoy in particular used every opportunity to badger the Gryffindors. Ron did however gleefully notice that he never went anywhere these days without Crabbe or Goyle within touching distance.

"Taking precautions, are you Dracky?" he asked the blond boy silkily one morning on their way to Potions. "Not risking a lone encounter with us scary Gryffindors without your faithful dimwits at your side. If I didn't know any better I would have thought the three of you were joined at the hip."

Ron heard Harry snicker behind him. Smiling like he'd just been awarded Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award he continued riling up the blond.

"Tell me," he continued encouraged by Harry's amusement, "is it true what they say about you three also sharing a bed? The mental image of it all: You three fully clad in identical pyjamas', cuddling and telling each other bedtime stories." Ron sighed and made a fluffy face, pretending to find it adorable.

An extremely steamed-looking Malfoy was prevented from making a snide comeback as the luscious Fleur entered the room, and all males (including Ron) returned to the drooling, zombie-like state that had become the norm for this class. Harry however seemed strangely unaffected by the part-Veela Hermione noticed, and curious she asked him about it.

"Suppose it is because I know her now," he answered with a shrug. "After talking to her and watching her perform in the Tournament, I realized that she's just another human being, not some icon or goddess."

Once again Hermione found herself amazed at how mature Harry sometimes seemed in comparison to Ron.

* * *

When they returned to the common room after dinner a few days later, they found it practically buzzing with excitement.

"Hey, Seamus!" Ron called out to his dorm-mate. "What's with all the commotion? Did they announce an early Hogsmeade weekend or something?"

"Quidditch tryouts this Saturday," Seamus responded eagerly. "George just put the notice up. We're in desperate need of a new Keeper to fill the gap of the infamous Oliver Wood, and seeing as most of the team are seventh years now, they're looking for reserves as well."

Ron's face instantly lit up at the news. "Brilliant! Where do I sign up?" Seamus pointed to the notice board on the far wall and cackling merrily and flailing his arms in what Harry assumed was an ecstatic manner, Ron positively flew the distance and hastily scribbled down his name. He returned seconds later wearing a huge grin.

"Looking forward to it, I presume?" Harry commented dryly, grinning at his friend's enthusiasm. All Ron could do was nod vigorously as he was to busy jumping ecstatically up and down to speak. Hermione gave him an exasperated look and muttered something about Quidditch making boys dumber than usual, and promptly left them to their own device, knowing full well that the conversational topic the next couple of hours would be one she didn't much care for.

As soon as Hermione (accompanied by a selected choice of books from her private library) had left the common room, Harry and Ron joined Dean and Seamus for an animated Quidditch conversation. The next hour or so was spent talking excitedly about the upcoming matches and speculating wildly on who would make the team. Ron had just predicted Nearly Headless Nick as a reserve Chaser ("If he looses the Quaffle he can always use his head as a substitute!") and Lavender as Keeper ("Those breast will block anything!") when Harry suddenly remembered that he hadn't the faintest clue who the new captain was.

"Do you know who's made captain?" Harry asked the others.

"Nah, nobody's mentioned anything about it. I thought it would be you, though," Dean said looking pointedly at Harry.

"Nope, didn't even put my name down for consideration," Harry replied dismissively.

"Why ever not? You're the best player Gryffindor has seen in years." Seamus was shocked.

"I had my mind on other things this summer," Harry mumbled in a low voice suddenly very interested in the fastening of his robe. Seamus looked like he'd just digested a large giraffe, and Dean instantly began scratching furiously at a graze on his left arm to avoid looking at Harry.

Luckily a distraction in the form of the Weasley twins occurred just moments later. The first sign that the pranksters were fast approaching was a loud piercing shriek from the Fat Lady. This was closely followed by an earth-shattering bang as the Portrait swung open and violently hit the wall, revealing Fred and George marching in perfect step and wearing identical cheerful grins. Both redheads were positively beaming. Seamus and Dean took full advantage off the commotion and quickly dashed up the stairs to the dormitories.

Obviously quite pleased with their grand entrance, the twins headed straight for Harry and Ron and kipped casually down on the now unoccupied couch.

"So," George said cheerfully, "seen the notice yet? I am of course expecting an overwhelming turnout on Saturday. Seeing as I am the new Captain, I mean." He pompously puffed out his chest and swiftly procured a silver badge with "Captain" engraved on it.

"You made captain?" Ron asked with a sceptical frown. "Why? What did you put in McGonagall's food to convince her to decide on you? You're not exactly our head of house's favourite student, are you?"

"Are you really sure about that?" George quipped waggling his eyebrows at his little brother. "I actually think she fancies me rotten. Why else would she dream up all these ridiculous reasons for spending time with me in detention?"

"Yeah, sure," Ron answered wryly, "Biting toilet seats are just playful fun I gather? That poor first year almost got sterilized at the tender age of eleven."

George mussed Ron's hair jovially. "Careful there, Ronniekins. It's sounds as if the little Prefect Hermione is rubbing off on you. Been doing some late night "studying" together have you?"

Harry had to bite his lip not to break out in titters. Ron however didn't seem to catch George's insinuation, and continued glowering at the twin.

"Didn't I distinctly hear you two swear to mum a few years ago that you wouldn't tinker with loo's?"

"Aha, eavesdropping were you, oh little one?"

"I haven't been dropping no eaves!" Ron retorted snippily. "The way I recall it the entire Hogwarts Express heard that particular conversation. You're not especially low-key in your conduct, you know."

"Whatever," George answered dismissively. "Besides we promised not to blow up any toilet seats, didn't we Fred? There was never any mention of a ban from giving toilet seats the ability to nibble..."

"You're both mad," Ron mumbled shaking his head.

Though he deep down was genuinely happy for his brother he still couldn't help put feel a little jealous. Yet another of his FIVE brothers had achieved something great, and the pressure on him was now worse than ever. Not that his parents expected anything like that from him. They just wanted their children to do their best. The pressure was created entirely by Ron himself, and it only seemed grow bigger with each passing year.

Harry quickly congratulated George on his achievement. He distinctly remembered the twins telling him this summer that they'd both put their names down for the position and so Harry was kind of puzzled to see Fred looking just as happy about George being appointment as George did. Ron had obviously been thinking the exact same thing and instantly asked them about it.

The twins giggled (yes giggled!) madly and Fred turned a light shade of pink around the ears (one of the twins blushed? This is scary, Harry thought).

George put his arms around Fred's shoulders and cleared his throat.

"Well it's like this: Last year me and Freddy-boy here, both went out with Angelina a couple of times. Fred took her to the Yule Ball as you might remember and I took her to Hogsmeade later that year. Angelina is great fun, you know. Really knows her jokes, that girl - a rare quality these days, praiseworthy to say the least. Anyway, one day before we left for Diagon Alley this summer I accidentally came across a rather mushy letter written to the lady in question by the gentleman to my immediate right." Fred had now turned completely red and seemed to be checking out ways to escape the tight grip George had on his shoulder.

"Turns out," George continued expertly ignoring Fred's embarrassment, "that my fellow prankster and partner in mischief has indeed fallen head over heals in love with the gorgeous creature that is Angelina."

Ron was gaping open-mouthed. Fred, I-can't-take-anything-seriously-if-my-life-depended-on-it Weasley, had fallen in love? What was happening to this world? He could really see Percy doing something like this, but Fred? Did the twins have feelings like normal people?

George seemed completely unfazed by both his brother's humiliation as well as the other boys' shocked faces.

"As the opportunist that I am, I took shamelessly advantage of my brother's infatuation and struck a mutually benedictory deal with him." George smirked and tousled Fred's hair jovially.

"What then?" Ron asked still stunned by the news.

"Simple, I got to be captain and Fred get to keep Angelina. I promised not to pursue her heart, so to speak."

Harry was amazed. Fred had willingly turned down the opportunity to be captain for Gryffindor - over a girl! Well, Harry mused, he doesn't seem to think it's a bad deal judging by the look on his face. Fred was still red, but looked truly happy.

*

Unsurprisingly the news about Fred and George's little "deal" spread with the speed of a Golden Snitch and soon everyone in Gryffindor Tower knew. Finally the content of the deal was also made known to Angelina and the scene that was played out in the common room that night would indisputably go down in the books for it's high entertainment value.

Angelina proved to have an equally colourful vocabulary as Ron, and both Fred and George got their share of verbal clobbering. For some reason she didn't exactly find the fact that they had bargained over her love like an everyday commodity especially flattering. But at the same time she found the fact that the Quidditch-loving Fred had sacrificed his chances as captain on account of her, terribly romantic, and by the end of the evening they were snogging passionately much to everyone's amusement.

As the tryout approached, Ron became more and more nervous and soon spent every available moment practicing. He even started to skip lunch on the account of extra flying practice and Harry found himself spending every evening throwing Quaffles at Ron till way past bedtime. Hermione was furious and threatened to make use of her Prefect status and deduct healthy doses of points if they didn't stop wandering around after dark. Naturally her threats had no effect on Ron, and as she secretly found Ron's dedication rather appealing none of her threats were actually ever carried out.

Finally Saturday arrived and Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were gathered in the changing room.

"Okay, the tryouts are about to start and I want you all to help evaluate the candidates." George was pacing up and down looking slightly nervous. "The crucial thing is to find a good Keeper. Oliver was brilliant, he'll be damned near impossible to replace."

"Relax will you," Katie replied comfortingly. "Look at the length of this list!" She waved an impressive looking scroll of parchment in front of his face. "More than half the Gryffindors have signed up. This is the best turn out ever."

George nodded but still looked a bit anxious in Harry's opinion. Being captain was quite a responsibility and George seemed to be getting into his role.

Deciding little could be accomplished by sitting around worrying in the changing room, they entered the stadium and found all the hopeful candidates gathered in the middle of the field looking rather nervous. George quickly divided them into groups according to the position they were trying out for. Harry scanned the candidates and found to his surprise many familiar faces. Ron was of course one of them, but also Max, Dean, Colin, Dennis and even Neville had signed up, though not all as Keeper of course. This will be fun, Harry thought chuckling silently as he remembered Neville's debut on a broomstick in their first flying lesson back in first year. He hadn't seen Neville fly after that incident but hoped for his sake that he'd improved.

The Chasers were to try out first and George quickly picked out three candidates that were to play against the house team. Harry was asked to act as Keeper in order to make it more realistic and mounted his broom and kicked off the ground. He zoomed upwards enjoying the exhilarating feeling of speed and did a few loops before he headed over to guard the three hoops. He stopped and lingered in midair looking at the three candidates that now had left the ground and was eagerly awaiting George's signal. One of them was Dean Thomas, the other was a third year whose name he didn't know and the last one was... Ginny!

Harry nearly lost his grip on the broom. Ginny was trying out?

The discovery made him do new loops in pure ecstasy and he suddenly remembered playing Quidditch in the Weasley's backyard this summer. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Ginny was a superb flyer; she probably stood a good chance for a spot as reserve. Harry found himself grinning madly at the thought of having her on the team. What's with you and this redhead, Potter he asked himself wonderingly? Why do you care if she makes the team or not? That's just Ginny after all. Ron's little sister...

But deep inside he knew that Ginny somehow had "outgrown" her status as just the little sister. But that was something he wasn't ready to deal with right now and so he tried to put her out of his mind. But although Harry did his best to ignore her, his deceiving eyes continued to seek her out. Finally giving up all pretence of not looking at her, he gave her an encouraging wave, which she enthusiastically returned and then the game was on.

*

Two hours later the tryouts was over and George had once again gathered the team in the changing room for evaluations. As it turned out most of the candidates had performed well. One of the exceptions though had not surprisingly been Neville. He'd tried out for Chaser and Harry had been stunned to see that he wasn't as bad a flyer as anticipated. His problem however was that he couldn't hold on to the Quaffle for his life. His throwing was also completely off and George had quickly asked him if he perhaps wanted to try out for Keeper instead. Neville had thankfully accepted but his performance in front of the hoops was something Harry hoped to erase from his memory as soon as possible. Tragic was the only way to describe it and he hoped for Neville's sake that no one would think to tease him about it later.

Ron on the other hand had been magnificent. He'd made some spectacular saves that would have sent Oliver over the moon with joy if he'd been there to witness it. The only real trouble was that Max had been even better. Harry hated to admit it but all the boosting and bragging he'd been doing the last couple of days wasn't just big words and over-exaggerations as hoped.

But that aside Harry was still putting his vote on Ron. Not just because of his intense dislike for Max, but also because Max was a seventh year and wouldn't be around next year as Ron would.

"Well team, this is it." George stepped up in front of the others. "I want you to be completely honest. Remember, our decision have to benefit the team and no personal feelings should get in the way of that." They all nodded and mumbled their agreement.

"So what do we decide on first? Reserves or Keeper?" Angelina asked.

"I think we should start with possible reserves," Fred shot in. "The most important thing is the spot as Keeper and I think we should do that last."

"I agree," George seconded. "So what do you think? Anyone particular Chasers who made an impression?" He looked at Angelina, Katie and Alicia. "This really is your field of expertise, girls."

"Well, I thought that third year with the spiky brown hair was rather good. What was his name again?" Katie said.

"Oh, you mean Peter Bowles," Alicia broke in. "He really did seem to read the game quite well, and he's fast too. A bit possessive of the Quaffle, but we'll soon beat that out of him."

"Okay, Peter Bowles is mentioned. Anyone else?"

Harry desperately wanted to suggest Ginny. She'd performed really well and scored more goals than any of the others. But still he couldn't bring himself to issue the suggestion, fearing that anyone would read anything into it. That's really stupid, he told himself. She'd been one of the best out there and should be considered. Just say it, god damn it! But silent reprimands aside he still remained silent. Angelina however came to his rescue.

"I think we should consider your sister," she said looking at the twins. "She's really fast and has a natural hack for scoring. Some of her moves were nothing short of spectacular, you know." The other girls nodded and so did Harry.

George sighed. "Glad you brought that up, girls. I quite agree with you, but would hate for anyone to accuse me of favouring family members." He smiled mischievously. "It would be a sad day for Quidditch if I were to be stripped of my captaincy because of unfounded accusations of Weasley favouritism. Anyone else?"

Angelina, Alicia and Katie shook their heads. "That Natalie McDonald shoved potential, but she's really young. I think we should offer her some hearty words of encouragement and ask her to try out again in a year when she's matured a bit," said Katie.

"Sure thing," George said with a wave. "Can I ask the three of you to do the pep-talk?" The girls nodded.

"Okay, then we have Ginny Weasley and Peter Bowles as reserve Chasers. Any objections?"

Harry certainly had nothing against the turnout, and realized he was smiling stupidly as though they'd already won the Cup, but couldn't help it. After a while he received a weird look from Fred and quickly he began removing his knee protecting gear to avoid his inquisitive stare. Fred soon turned his attention back to the ongoing discussion and Harry quickly tried to shape his face into a more neutral expression.

Fred and George's evaluation of the Beater candidates left Harry groaning in frustration when it became apparent that they recommended the infamous Creevey brothers as reserve Beaters.

"Yes, Harry I know they're a bit... eh over-enthusiastic around you," Fred said with evident amusement. Harry threw him a dirty look. "But annoying character traits aside, they're brilliant with bats! Almost knocked the wig off Alicia several times!"

Ignoring Alicia's indignant cry, Harry shook his head in frustration. "Whatever, just keep them as far away from me as possible, okay?"

"So, on to the tough one: Who should be made new Keeper, filling the abnormally huge shoes after our esteemed ex-captain and tormentor, Oliver Wood?"

"The way I see it," Harry said, "It really boils down to a choice between two: Max Strober or Ron." Harry looked at the other players and saw that they all agreed with him.

"If I had to rank them, I'd say Max is a tad better than Ron," George said objectively.

"Yeah, but Ron is two years younger and haven't even trained half as much as Max has. And he'll be around for two more years."

Harry had decided to put up a good fight for Ron, and hoped his arguments would win the others. He knew how much his friend hated being in the shadow of his brothers and Harry, and so he desperately wanted Ron to get this. He was a good Keeper, and this way he would stand out with his own field of expertise. And he deserved it!

"That is true, Harry," Fred said. "Both options are good, and seeing as one of the candidates is our own brother I suggest we make the votes anonymous. No matter who we pick, we'll have a great Keeper, won't we?"

And so they did, and as George read through the votes adding them up Harry sat crossing his fingers. The wait was nerve-racking but finally George lifted his head and met their anxious looks.

"The vote is 4-2 in favour of Max," he stated evenly.

Harry couldn't believe it! How could they not see that Ron clearly was the better option? Who'd been stupid enough to vote against him?

A sickening realization suddenly hit him. He'd voted for Ron something, which meant that one or both of Ron's own brothers had voted against him. Oh no, Ron would simply be devastated. Not to mention furiously angry with the twins once he found out about it. This sucked! No one would ever think of accusing the twins of Weasley favouritism after this, Harry thought with a grimace.

As George made his announcement of who'd made the cut, Harry's heart ached for Ron. His friend's face went from nervous anticipation to utter disappointment when Max's name was read aloud as the new Keeper. He'd never been particularly good at hiding his emotions, and his whole body clearly showed the frustration and despair he was feeling.

Harry desperately wanted to rush over and comfort him, but seeing as they were fifteen-year-old boys and didn't tend to display that kind of emotion for each other on a regular basis (and certainly not in the middle of a Quidditch field with an audience this size), he stayed put but gave his friend an apologetic look that he hoped would convey that he at least didn't agree with the decision.

How was he going to cheer Ron up after this, he wondered despairingly.

*

After hearing the announcement, Ron was hit by a wave of emotions ranging from sheer disbelief to utter disappointment. He couldn't believe it! All the training and preparations had been for nothing. His knees were threatening to give and he knew he had to sit down. He dropped the broomstick and sank down on the grass, not wanting to meet his brother's eyes. How could George do this to him? And to top it all off, he'd lost the spot to Max. Of all possible people, this baboon had snatched it from right under his nose. He shouldn't even be here. German trash! He glanced sideways to the man in question only to see him being hugged by Ginny. How come he even got to try out, he's not even British. This simply wasn't fair!!

His eyes met Harry's and the look he gave him told him that Harry at least didn't agree with the decision the team had made. He appreciated the sympathy; it felt good knowing that Harry was on his side, but it didn't really change the outcome, now did it?

As people started to leave the stadium, Ron saw Harry approaching. He sat down beside him and put one hand on his shoulder squeezing it lightly.

"I'm terribly sorry about this, Ron. If it makes you feel better I think your performance was brilliant and I put my vote on you."

Ron managed a small smile. "I know you did, Harry. And thank you, that means a lot to me." He sighed loudly. The disappointment was devastating.

"So how come Max was picked over me? If you voted for me along with the twins, that means that we'd tied, wouldn't it?" Ron watched Harry flinch at his question, and it was clear that there was something his friend didn't want to tell him.

"Tell me, Harry," Ron said giving him a piercing stare. "I need to know, and sooner or later I will find out anyway. This is Hogwarts, you know. Rumours travel faster than the speed of light." Harry still looked reluctant to tell him, but eventually gave in.

"Okay, this is how it went. The vote was anonymous, and the result was 4-2 in favour of Max."

"But that can't be right?" Ron interrupted heatedly. "That means that only one more voted for me besides you." Ron was confused. This didn't add up! Surely his brothers would have voted for him too? Or hadn't they?

"One of the twins voted against me...?" The realization hit him with the force of a Bludger. Harry simply nodded.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Don't know which of them though."

"But I'm bloody well about to find out!"

The worst shock had now left him only to be replaced by an overwhelming wave of anger. Whoever it was should at least have the decency to tell him to his face! He jumped up grabbed his broom and with Harry only two steps behind he strode purposefully towards the twins. Fred was currently whispering something in Angelina's ear that made her giggle softly while George was busy packing up the balls. Ron reached them and with his arms crossed and a merciless look on his face, glanced icily from one to the other.

"Which of you," he began in a calm voice (too calm in Harry's opinion. This was not a good sign), "voted against me? Please humour me, I would really like to know which bloody bastard voted against me, and is cowardly avoiding telling me?"

Fred looked utterly bewildered, but the look on George's face told Ron all he needed to know. He stepped closer to his brother and for a split second Harry was certain Ron was going to punch his face in. George was looking part guilty part scared stiff as Ron stared him square in the eye.

"Thanks. A lot, bro," Ron spat before he turned on his heel and fled the pitch.

Harry couldn't help but scowl at George.

"Please, Harry stop giving me the look of death. I feel bad enough as it is." George winced under Harry's glare.

"Serves you right, though. You really should have told him," Harry said brusquely.

"I know that, I'm not stupid. It's just that I want the team to be brilliant, and Max was the better Keeper. Ron can try out next year, and I'm positive he'll get it. He really is good."

"You should tell him that sometime," Harry said with a final look at George. "It's not easy being the youngest boy having too may brothers to live up to."

Harry turned on his heel and following Ron's example he left the pitch in a determined stride. The last thing he saw before he walked through one of the exits were the twins sharing confused looks.

*

Hermione had been sitting in the stands eagerly watching the tryouts and had to her great surprise actually enjoyed it. Ron had been doing great and she'd acted utterly silly when he'd been up for evaluation, bragging and praising him like a love-struck teenager (which she actually was, if truth be told) to the younger girls.

It had been a foolish thing to do and rumours about her crush were probably already circling the stands but she'd been unable to help it at the time. Ron had looked so handsome riding his broom with that determined look on his face, and she'd been proud as a peacock each time he'd made a save.

When the announcements had been made she'd been crossing her fingers so intently it hurt, and was therefore taken by complete surprise when George made Max the new Keeper. Her heart bled for Ron as she witness the disappointment on his face. Oh dear, he really don't deserve this, she thought with heavy hart. For a split second she feared that Ron was going to take this out on Harry. Knowing his bad temper and short fuse that could easily be the outcome of this. She saw the look on Harry's face saying that he was in complete disagreement with the teams' decision and desperately hoped Ron noticed it too.

She watched Harry walk over to his friend and drew a breath of relief as she saw them sitting beside each other and Harry putting his arm comforting on Ron's shoulder. She'd just made up her mind to go join them, when Ron's face suddenly turned dark crimson, he jumped to his feet and headed straight for the twins with Harry at his heels.

She saw him glaring at them, clearly asking them something or the other. Then it dawned on her. With six players on the team and Ron not being chosen, the vote would at best been 4-2 against him. She knew Harry had voted for him (his obvious loathing for Max plus his dedicated loyalty to Ron was proof enough) something, which meant that one or maybe even both the twins had voted against him. Oh no, she thought her heartbeat racing; please don't start a fight, Ron. Please.

But to her great relief Ron didn't lay as much as a finger on either of them. He stayed remarkably calm, muttered something she couldn't make out and then he ran off. Hermione didn't even bother pausing to see what Harry did. Before she'd even had the chance to think about it she ran for the stairs. Descending in record time, she rounded the corner of the stadium hoping to cut Ron off. She quickly spotted him a little way in front of her and called out for him to stop. To her surprise he did, and she soon caught up with him.

"Oh, Ron," she started soothingly, not really knowing what to say or do to make him feel any better. She desperately wanted to hug him, stroke his hair and tell him how wonderful she thought he'd performed, but for obvious reasons she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"I'm so sorry you didn't get it." Her voice cracked a little. Ron just stared straight ahead and resumed walking towards the castle. Hermione followed and for several minutes neither of them said a word. Finally Ron cracked.

"Oh, I hate that George!!"

Ron was fuming. "That was the worst thing he's ever done to me. And he and Fred have really put me through a lot during the years. I mean, how could he? And to think he chose Max over me!! Of all the disgusting little suck-ups in whole world, he's by far the worst. Honestly, he makes me think of Malfoy as quite the comrade in comparison."

Hermione didn't blame Ron for being angry. She'd feel the same way if someone that close to her had done something like this.

"I agree with you, Ron. George really should've had the courage and decency to tell you himself."

"Thank you," Ron said quietly giving her a sideways look. "It means a lot to hear you say that. You and Harry are great friends, you know." She smiled back and nodded.

"Well, we do try our best. Anything I can do to make this better?" She blushed as she said this. She would of course jump through hoops for Ron or even spew slugs if it would cheer him up. Pity he was oblivious to this fact.

Ron stopped outside the entrance to the castle and took a deep breath. Then a mischievous smile spread across his face.

"You know, I would love it if you were to take points from that prat Max. Corner him in a awkward moment, perhaps adding a detention or two to the humiliation." Ron chuckled. "I'll get Harry to help me set him up, and then you will accidentally turn up to top the situation off with a nice little yelling. Come on, Hermione; say you'll do it. I know from experience that you'll be able to make him squirm."

For reasons Hermione didn't know it was the Prefect in her that first responded to Ron's request.

"Honestly Ron, how can you even suggest something like this. It's totally against the rules. It's stated very clearly in chapter four of the Prefect's Manual that our given power should not in any circumstances be misused for personal reasons."

The minute this escaped her mouth, she knew it was a mistake. Her bossy self had taken over, and she knew Ron didn't respond well to this side of her when in this mood.

"That didn't come out right," she said hastily and reached out her hand to touch Ron's. He stood rooted to the ground and didn't respond at all. She tentatively moved closer to him, her body shaking with fear. She was partly scared that if she didn't hug him soon she would die, but at the same time she was also scared shitless that he didn't want her to hug him.

Ron was experiencing an overwhelming number of emotions simultaneously, all fighting for his attention. Feelings of disappointment, anger and frustration from not being picked along with utter grief were flooding through him as he left the Quidditch pitch.

Running towards the castle he felt as though he could break out in tears any moment, something that only made him angrier. Fifteen-year-old boys did not cry over Quidditch for god's sake! Ron needed to find a place to be alone so that he could collect his thoughts and get his emotions under control. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

Busy as he was battling his importunate tears, Ron heard Hermione call out to him. Although his initial intention had been to find a suitable hiding place to rage in solitude and thus avoid seeing anyone, his body disobeyed his instruction and stopped so she could catch up with him. He heard her slow down to a light jog and finally stop close behind him. Her presence soothed him somewhat and he felt warm inside hearing her tell him how unfair she thought it was, him not being picked.

But then she made that snide remark about not being able to frame Max into a detention, and he suddenly felt hurt. This puzzled him because he knew that she'd never do such a thing in the first place. His suggestion had only been half serious anyway. But somehow it hurt that she wouldn't do this for him. He'd definitely do it for her!

So in response Ron did the one thing he knew best which was forcefully pushing Hermione away and start an argument.

"Sticking up for Mad Max instead of me, I see," he said coldly not even looking at her. "Found a new potential boyfriend in the charming German, have you?"

Hermione looked quite dumbfounded as he said this, but Ron still pressed on.

"What is it with you and older guys anyway? First Lockhart, then Viktor Buggering Krum and now you've apparently set your sights on the luscious Max. My my, that's quite the list of men you've got there Granger."

"Ron, what are you talking about? You're not making any sense. I'm not in the least bit interested in Max, wherever did you get such a ludicrous idea?" Hermione looked quite desperate, grabbing onto the sleeve of Ron's robe trying to make him look at her.

"You should go congratulate your boyfriend," he said frostily shaking her hand off. "You don't want him walking in on you hugging another boy. That might get ugly." And with that he ran the last few yards to the castle, bolted through the door and disappeared up the marble staircase, leaving a hurt and embarrassed Hermione in tears outside.

*

Harry was walking towards the castle and came to witness the last part of what happened between his friends. He was stunned to see Hermione reaching out trying to hug Ron and for a brief moment he actually thought that this might be it. A mischievous smile began spreading across his face, but before it could blossom into a full-blown grin the situation suddenly changed. Ron pushed Hermione away; mutter something or the other leaving her on the stairs looking quite devastated.

Harry ran up to her and found Hermione sitting with her head buried in her hands, sobbing silently. She peered up for a moment and spotted him, hiccupping slightly before hiding her head in her hands again. Harry sat down beside her laying a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"What just happened, Hermione?" he asked quietly.

"Oh Harry, how could I be so stupid?" Hermione looked up at him, tears running down her cheeks. "All I wanted was to make him feel better, you know."

"I know," Harry replied silently.

"I feel like such an idiot. Oh my God, why did I do that?" She flung her arms around Harry's neck and continued to sob loudly. Harry awkwardly put his arm around her waist. He didn't quite know what to do, only that Hermione was really upset about this, and he really should try to make her feel better.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively, silently hoping she would say no. Truthfully he wasn't too comfortable discussion his best friends' tangled love life (or rather lack thereof).

"Yes, and no" she replied with a sigh. "It's kind of embarrassing, to tell the truth. I'm not sure I want to tell you. No offence."

Harry smiled down at her. "None taken" he said smirking openly. "All though I think I may guess what it's all about." Okay, so his intention had been to mind his own business, but his curiosity got the better of him. Had he really read the signs correctly? Did Hermione really harbour the gigantic crush on Ron that Harry though she did?

At Harry's words Hermione immediately whipped her head up a mixture of horror and relief on her face, instantly confirming his suspicions.

"You do?" she asked in a low voice.

"Oh yeah," Harry answered mysteriously and she looked away from him slightly flushed.

"What then?" she asked a slight tremble to her voice. Not sure you want to know if I know, do you, Harry thought with a smirk. Well you asked for it.

"You like him, don't you?"

At his words her face went a deep shade of burgundy and she began to pick off some strands of grass from her robes.

"Of course I like him," Hermione said with a low shaking voice. "I wouldn't stayed friends with him for four years if I didn't."

Harry snickered. "That's not how I meant it, and you know it."

"No?"

"No."

She drew her breath deeply before looking up at him again.

"You're right." She said it really low and Harry almost didn't hear her. He smiled and stroke Hermione's frizzy hair. She'd finally admitted to it. This was a step in the right direction.

"So does that mean that you're, er, kind of, you know, like in love with him?" He had to ask. She simply nodded.

"I think so. Does that bother you?" she asked. Harry shook his head and let out a small laugh.

"Not at all, Hermione. That doesn't bother me at all. The constant bickering however, that bothers me a great deal. Maybe if I got you two to kiss, you would stop that", he said teasingly.

"Harry!" she exclaimed in outrage. "Not so loud. And don't you dare tell him I said this. I will make your life living hell, if you do. I swear."

Hermione's voice was desperate. Harry laughed even harder. "Don't worry about it, my lips are sealed. Wouldn't even consider expose myself to your wrath."

She laughed too. "I'm glad you know Harry, it's hell dealing with this alone."

"Glad you told me," he replied and hugged her.

In the Entrance Hall Ron was standing watching his two best friends hugging on the staircase. He didn't hear any of their conversation and was oblivious to the fact that Hermione had just proclaimed her love for him. He just saw two people hugging intimately and naturally he jumped to all the wrong conclusions...

To be continued...