A Vague Plan

Prologue: Wherein the characters and basic plot are introduced to the reader

"Really, Ron," Hermione exclaimed, her voice taking on that obviously exasperated tone it frequently did when she reprimanded her friend, "If you spent half the time on your homework that you did on playing chess, you would be at the bloody top of the class!"

Ron was hunched over the chess game he and Harry were currently involved in, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Up until that point he hadn´t even bothered to look at Hermione, knowing if he did she would only take it as encouragement to further berate him about his poor work ethic. At her last words, however, his bright blue eyes shot up to meet Harry´s warm green ones. He caught the amusement in them immediately, and knew it matched his own expression.

Dropping his gaze back to the board, he playfully clucked his tongue in disapproval.

"Such language, Hermione, and from you, Head Girl no less."

He had to lower his head under the guise of more thoroughly studying the board to cover up his grin when his words had the desired reaction. Hermione jumped up from the couch she had been sitting on, her hands on her hips.

"Honestly, Ron!"

Ron looked up at Harry again, not even bothering to hide his face, full of laughter and affection for the curly-haired spitfire glaring at him.

"Is she still talking to me?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow and Ron saw his mouth twitch up slightly. Instead of answering him though, Harry merely shook his head to show he had no desire to get in the middle of one of Ron and Hermione´s arguments. They had been happening almost bi-weekly since fifth year, and now near Halloween in their seventh, Harry had found he was much easier kept in Hermione´s good graces when he stayed clear of it. A reasonable choice, Ron had to admit. Everyone knew the youngest of the Weasley men was the only person in the whole of Hogwarts who could come away from the wrath of Hermione unscathed.

"Harry!" Ron sniggered when he saw the look of mild horror that crossed his friend´s face at having been brought into the fray. "Would you kindly remind Ron that he has a two foot essay due for Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow that I know very well he hasn´t started on yet? And while you´re at it, tell him that if he thinks he can come knocking on my door at midnight tonight expecting to see mine, then he is sorely mistaken."

With a long-suffering sigh, Harry opened his mouth to repeat the rather lengthy message, but Ron held up a hand to stop him before he had time to utter the first word. Turning himself so he was facing Hermione, he slowly shifted his gaze past her meticulously pressed robes and smooth white neck to meet her eyes. He then reached out and took her left hand with his right.

"I will get started on my paper as soon as I finish this game, I promise you, `Mione. It will get done, ok?" He voice was low and soothing, as he had intended it to be, a trick he picked up from George, who was remarkably good at getting people to do things for him. His thumb absently stroked the back of her hand.

Hermione pulled out of his grasp in a quick, jerky motion, and her cheeks tinged a rather enduring shade of pink. She seemed to notice how odd her reaction was, and made a show of calmly smoothing out her crisp robes.

"Well. Right, then. I´ll be up in my room doing the Potions homework if you need me," she responded before turning and walking up the stairs to the girls´ dorms.

Ron´s eyes followed her retreating form until she disappeared through the large, heavy door that separated the girls´ rooms from the common room. He shifted his focus back to the chessboard.

In front of him, Harry instructed his knight to take Ron´s pawn, which it did with a loud and satisfying smash of its sword.

"That wasn´t playing fair, what you did to her," Harry chastised gently.

Ron rolled his eyes as his queen slashed Harry´s knight in half.

"I gave up playing fair with Hermione a long time ago. All she has to do is look at me with those bloody magnificent brown eyes and I´d do anything for her. You know as soon as this is over I´m going to write my essay, because I said I would. How is that fair?"

"That´s a good point, I suppose," Harry acquiesced, "Why don´t you ask her out then? I mean I know what you think will happen, but what if she surprises you and agrees? Don´t tell me you won´t be the happier for it."

Harry muttered a command to his bishop, and it slid across the board.

"Harry, you know Hermione. She´ll ignore anything going on, as she has been for the last two-and-a-half years, in order to preserve the peace amongst the three of us. She thinks you´ll be put out if we get together," Ron explained slowly, then moved his rook to capture his opponent´s bishop.

When his piece shattered, Harry shot him a look of annoyance, and pushed his round glasses further up the bridge of his nose, a motion he always made when he was contemplating a move against Ron.

"Well, what if you told her I don´t mind? Gave you two my blessing...as it were?" Harry suggested.

"It doesn´t matter what you say, it matters what she thinks. You could deny having any misgivings until your face turns blue, you could plan our bloody wedding, and it won´t do a thing if she´s got it in her head that you´ll be upset. She´ll say you´re being noble for our sakes."

"Maybe you can...make her do it." The moment he said it, Harry knew how ridiculous that sounded. Nothing short of the Imperius Curse could force Hermione Granger to do something she didn´t want to do.

"Not make her do it, convince her to," Ron corrected with, Harry thought, a fairly sly grin.

"And what´s the phenomenal difference between that and what I said?" Harry asked.

Ron glanced at him with a look that clearly said the answer was obvious. "Have you ever in your life been able to make Hermione do something? Don´t even answer that, it was rhetorical; we both know your response. But convincing Hermione of something? It takes quite a bit of work, I´ll give you that, but she has never been one to disregard a logical argument. Quite the opposite, really."

At this, he paused for both the dramatic effect and to move his knight.

"And while you´ve been wasting all your time lately ogling my only sister," his eyebrow raised when Harry blushed a deep sort of scarlet that was all too perfect for the model Gryffindor, "I´ve been using mine in a more productive manner. I´ve come up with a plan."

Harry was intrigued for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that after almost three years of pining-- quite annoyingly, he had to admit, though he wasn´t nearly as fed up with it as Seamus and Dean-- for Hermione, Ron finally seemed prepared to act.

"Really? And what does this plan entail, exactly?"

Ron frowned slightly, "I don´t have all the particulars down yet, but I know that the main objective is helping her understand that a...romantic relationship between the two of us won´t bring about the destruction of our friendship with you. Not as easy as it sounds, I´m afraid."

"Anything I can do to help?"

Ron snorted. "Oh, loads. This is not a one man job."

Harry smirked and moved to take his turn in their game.

"Don´t bother," Ron said. When Harry shot him a confused look, he pointed at the board where his remaining pieces were celebrating, his knight waving his sword victoriously, his queen taking a deep bow and his other survivors dancing around in their allotted squares. "Checkmate."

Part One: Wherein the reader gets debriefed on the current state of our characters

(Or: Where Ms. Rowling left off to where we are now)

The worst kept secret in Gryffindor House was the long-standing crush Ron Weasley had on Hermione Granger. Since fifth year the whole school had been buzzing about it. The Hufflepuff girls sighed whenever the two walked shoulder to shoulder in the hallways. "Aren´t they so sweet?" They would whisper breathlessly to one another, "Look at how he guided her around that slick patch on the ground. For someone so smart, she really is blind, isn´t she? Ron, so kind and handsome."

All of which was true, of course. Hufflepuffs, in general, were nothing if not keenly perceptive, and terribly romantic.

Ron had never grown out of his compulsion to protect Hermione in any way he could. Indeed, it had grown even stronger with time. It was part chivalry, part big brother instinct and part blinding fury at the thought of anything ever upsetting her. Aside from him, but that´s another issue entirely.

Ron had a temper with a fuse about as thin as a sheet of parchment when it came to her. A well-aimed scowl and nasty retort were instantly shot at anyone who had the gall to insult Hermione´s unruly brown hair or Muggle upbringing in Ron´s presence. Oftentimes, it took a calm hand on the shoulder from either Hermione or Harry to stop him from brandishing his wand at the offender.

None of this was to say that Hermione needed a guardian of any sort. Easily the quickest and most eager student in her class, Hermione´s wand skills were eclipsed only by Harry´s. Her ease with Arithmancy was unparalleled by anyone, and even Snape was properly impressed with the work she´d done in Potions. To say nothing of the fact that, if it came down to it, she could pack quite a punch.

Ron knew all this, obviously, but he had the remarkable ability to forget it when faced with a situation where she might be harmed.

*

The Ravenclaws observed Ron from a purely objective point of view.

"Looks a bit like his brother Charlie, doesn´t he?" One would ask when Ron would nudge Hermione with his elbow in Transfiguration, for the sole purpose of sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes at her.

"Yes. Not anything like those twins, thank Rowena. Two of them are all the world needs," the other would respond.

That, too, was true enough. If a comparison had to be made between Ron and one of his five brothers, any person would pick Charlie. After years of getting comfortable in his own body, Ron had grown into a good-looking eighteen-year-old man. He was tall and lean, his muscles strong and sinewy from playing so much Quidditch.

At the start of his fifth year, after Oliver Wood had graduated, Ron tried out for and earned the position of Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and since that day, his life had almost entirely revolved around attending practices, devising plays and the actual games themselves. It was really a wonder that he had time for his studies, but Hermione saw to it that he never missed an assignment. Even if that meant she had to drag him to the library and sit with him until he was finished, a situation he didn´t mind at all.

His hair was still a stark red color that left no doubt to where he was in a room, but it had grown longer and curled softly at the nape of his neck and around his ears. It also had the added benefit of framing his eyes perfectly when he ducked his head, which made him look absolutely innocent of any wrongdoings he may have committed.

The way he carried himself, however, was where the comparison to Charlie became relevant. Ron had grown a great deal more confident with himself as he passed through his teenaged years. When he walked, he held his shoulders straight and his head high, his long legs carrying him purposefully from one place to another. His arms, however, were ever moving, always gesturing animatedly to a friend, running through his hair or fiddling with his wand.

His eyes, a deep blue, remained striking and intense no matter how many times one looked at them. In him, a person could easily see the strong and adept dragon trainer, Charlie Weasley.

*

The Slytherins would blanch openly at them during Potions, when Hermione would roll her eyes and reprimand Ron for not paying attention.

"Bloody nauseating, those two are," one would sneer, "Why doesn´t he shag her and be done with it?"

Those shrewd students had a point. Ron and Hermione could be very sickening to watch for long periods of time, if one wasn´t interested in that type of thing.

*

Their fellow Gryffindors would shake their heads while eating lunch in the Great Hall and watching Hermione and Ron argue tempestuously over the most mundane of topics.

"Ron´s more likely to drive her mad than to ask her out with the way he´s going on," one would complain to the other.

That was a particularly loathsome problem for the seventh year boys who had to share a room with Ron, and were therefore required to listen to his seemingly unending monologues about Hermione each night before bed.

On more than one occasion, a sharp Irish voice was known to shout, "I swear to you Ron, if you say one more word about Hermione, so help me Godric, I will put a Muting Curse on you in order to preserve our sanity!"

*

This supposed secret was so widespread that it seemed the only person who didn´t know about it was Hermione herself.

*

And if the worst kept secret in Gryffindor was Ron´s feelings for Hermione, then the best kept was Hermione´s feelings for Ron.

There were many people who guessed or assumed that Hermione returned Ron´s affections, but there were only two people who knew it to be fact. Harry and Ron had been best friends with Hermione for six years, and because of that, they had a finely tuned sense of what she was thinking or feeling at any given moment.

Ron, especially, took his time to learn how to decipher the meaning of everything she did. He wanted to know as much as he could about her, what things made her deliriously happy, inconsolably upset and all that was in between. He knew which words made her blush and which made her stomp her foot on the floor in anger.

He knew she had never been happier than the day she got the owl telling her she was Head Girl to Draco Malfoy´s Head Boy, because it marked a culmination of six long, hard years of work on her part. And more than that, it proved that she, a Muggle-born, was just as good as any Malfoy, Brown or Weasley that attended Hogwarts.

Anyone who watched her suck on the tip of her sugar quill in concentration while she did her Care of Magical Creatures homework already knew that, but Hermione had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and until she was named a prefect and finally Head Girl, she wouldn´t fully let herself believe that she was one of the most talented and dedicated witches Hogwarts had ever seen.

It was because of the intimate knowledge that Hermione allowed only them access to, which Harry and Ron were able to see what she felt, while everyone else was in doubt.

Harry knew that she loved him a great deal, she had showed it countless times over the last six years. But one only needed to watch the way she acted around him in comparison to Ron to notice that her love for the red headed boy was much different than what she felt for Harry.

It was evident in the way she nagged Ron incessantly about his homework, the passion in her voice when she argued with him, and concurrently, the ease with which he could make her smile. And during their Quidditch matches, he was the only player on the pitch she paid any attention to whatsoever.

*

It should also be noted that Ron and Hermione had not spent the past two and some odd years only brooding and pining for one another. In fact, they each had their share of interesting ex-partners.

Ron, for instance, in the middle of sixth year, had a brief romance with Lavender Brown. It ended amicably after three weeks and with her soft uttering of, "Oh Ron, why did we even bother?"

He´d also had many pleasant first dates with several of the girls at Hogwarts, mostly sticking with the intelligent and responsible Ravenclaws. Nothing ever came of it, but they were nice girls, and knew not to get very attached to him, as the Hufflepuffs tended to do, or try to hex him after he broke it off, like the vindictive Slytherins. And after Lavender, dating girls from his own House was just far too complicated for his taste, as it inevitably involved Hermione much more actively than he liked. So the Ravenclaws were the best choice for him. They were good for a fun night, and since his fourth year, Ron had never been wont for a date to any formal Hogwarts gathering.

To Ron´s chagrin, Hermione had slightly more luck when it came to maintaining relationships. Even in their seventh year, she continued her correspondence with Viktor (bloody) Krum, and took one week out of every summer to visit him in Bulgaria, though she insisted to Ron and Harry that the two of them were just good friends.

Toward the end of sixth year, she began a three-month relationship with the charming Hufflepuff prefect, Justin Finch-Fletchley. They each enjoyed the other´s company, and were happy to have someone to spend weekends in Hogsmeade with, but to say their relationship was passionate would have been a step too far. They both decided that what they had wouldn´t last an entire summer away from each other, and ended it the previous June.

*

So, because neither of them was currently attached to anyone else, Ron reasoned that then would be the best time to set his (admittedly) vague plan into action.