Of Prats and Dragons

"Ron?" Hermione asked nervously, coming down the stairs into the Common Room.

Ron looked up from his chair by the fireplace, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. Despite herself, she couldn't control the slight warm feeling in the pit of her stomach.

But Ron, being Ron, effectively cured her of any warm feelings she may have had.

"If you want to talk about Harry, just go back to bed. I'm not in the mood," Ron said sullenly, staring into the fire.

Hermione was of half a mind to listen to him, walk back up the stairs, and bury herself in her blankets. Straightening up slightly, she told herself that wouldn't do. Was she a Gryffindor or not?

"Ron, you have got to stop this," she insisted. Ron gave a snort of derision, although he didn't look at her.

He was so infuriating. If he would just listen to her for one minute...but no, he was going to be stubborn. Oh well, she'd just have to make him listen. Taking a steadying breath, Hermione walked over and plopped down on the armrest of his chair.

As a general rule, Hermione kept a certain amount of space between her and her best friend. The strange, bewildering bliss of being close to him confused her, and she could tell it confused him even more. So she simply eliminated the problem by keeping her distance, and Ron reciprocated by trying his best to do the same. It quite irritated her that there was no way of knowing if he did it consciously.

But desperate times call for desperate measures. So Hermione threw the rules out the window and got as close to him as she dared. She wanted to make sure that his full attention was focused on her.

"Ron, you are such a prat," Hermione informed him matter-of-factly. "Why won't you just let this stupid grudge go? Harry needs you." I need you, she wanted to say, but knew that she shouldn't.

"Because I'm such a prat," Ron said snidely. "Run along now, Hermione. Go back to bed and dream about your precious Harry, why don't you?"

Hermione gasped. Then she gaped. She stared at Ron in utter horror, as if he had just suggested that she go snog a basilisk.

"What?" she asked, in a scandalized voice.

"You heard me," Ron said. He still wasn't looking at her. "I'm not stupid, you know. I've noticed that you hang around him a lot more than you hang around me. I know girls tend to do that when they fancy a boy. So go have a nice nighttime chat with your dearest love and leave me alone."

Hermione couldn't help it. She giggled. No, she didn't giggle, she laughed uproariously. Guffawed, if you will. Laughing so hard the tears ran down her face, she sat shaking on the armrest of Ron's chair, as said boy stared at her incredulously.

Utterly unable to control herself, she leaned over and hugged Ron tight around the neck.

"You are such a prat," she said fondly. Then, realizing that she was still hugging him, Hermione let go and pulled herself upright. Grabbing his face between her hands, she forced him to look at her.

"Ron," she said, looking him directly in the eye. "I did not, do not, will not ever fancy Harry Potter. Never. No chance. Will not happen. Got it?"

Ron nodded slowly, still looking her in the eye. A fit of embarrassment overcame Hermione, and she hastily vacated the armrest in favor of a nearby loveseat.

"So, will you talk to him?" she asked Ron timidly, folding her arms over one another on the armrest of the loveseat and resting her chin on them.

"Why?" Ron asked. "He's got all his fans. He's the big, bad Hogwarts champion. He doesn't need a poor, pathetic Weasley tagging along."

Hermione snorted. "You are pathetic, Ron. But only because you're too thick to see that Harry needs you more than anyone. He's miserable without, can't you see that?"

Ron looked at her with something akin to surprise. "Really?"

Hermione nodded. "Harry and I, we're great friends. But there's a lot less laughter when you're not around. I'm beginning to think that we are what everyone says."

"What does everyone say?"

"They call us the Trio," Hermione told him. He smiled at that. "And it's true. Without you, Harry and I would eventually get bored and stop hanging around each other. You're the glue that holds us together. Without Harry, you and I would kill each other or just be too incensed to speak at all. Harry's sort of a referee."

"And without you," Ron said, "Harry and I would have a meaningless teenage boy friendship that didn't mean a thing. He wouldn't tell me anything, and I wouldn't tell him anything, and we'd just talk about Quidditch all the time. You're the one who forced us to be real friends."

Hermione gave Ron a glowing smile.

*

Ron was almost knocked off his feet by that smile. All he could do was grin stupidly back at her.

What kind of git was he, anyway? Hermione apparently didn't fancy Harry, as she had told him quite forcefully. His damn teenage hormones reared up and reminded him that she hadn't said anything about not fancying him.

Which was idiotic, of course. That would imply that he wanted her to fancy him. Which he most certainly did not. Really.

Ron sighed aloud. Sometimes being around Hermione just confused him.

"What?" Hermione asked. "What was that sigh for?"

"Nothing," Ron hastily assured her. "Just thinking, is all."

"Are you going to talk to Harry?" Hermione persisted. "The first task is tomorrow, and he needs your support. Especially since..." Hermione trailed off into silence.

Ron looked at her sharply. "Since what?"

Hermione took a deep breath, and Ron could tell she was steadying herself to tell him something. If she had to steady herself, that practically guaranteed that the news was not going to be good.

"The first task is dragons," Hermione said.

Dragons? The blood drained from Ron's face. "What?" he demanded. "What are they thinking? Letting a bunch of kids go up against dragons! Who in the world is running this circus?"

Hermione smiled at his outrage. "Don't worry about it. Harry went to bed an hour ago, but we've been practicing Summoning Charms all night."

Ron looked closely at Hermione, inwardly berating himself for not seeing that she was exhausted.

"You need to sleep, Hermione," Ron said sternly. "Go to bed, and go straight to sleep. Now."

Hermione smiled wearily at him, and rose to comply.

"Goodnight, Ron," she said, giving him a big, genuine smile.

Ron blushed, and looked back at the fire. "Goodnight, Hermione."

He watched her go back up the stairs. At the top of the stairs she turned to look at him again, and he momentarily stopped breathing. The soft light from the fire licked her face, and her hair framed her face like a halo. The shadows of the darkness made her eyes appear fey and unfathomable as she met his gaze once more.

"Sweet dreams, Hermione," he said softly.

"You too, Ron," she said. Suddenly, she was her stern, bossy self again. "You need to go to bed, too."

"I will, I promise," Ron said.

"Now, Ronald," Hermione said in threatening tones.

"Yes, Mum," Ron said sarcastically, getting up from his chair and heading to his dormitory. "G'night."

"Sleep well, young Ronald," Hermione said, a note of humor in her voice. "At worst, I could kill you in the morning."

Ron turned back to look at her, an eyebrow raised in question.

"It's a muggle thing," Hermione said.

Ron nodded, as if he understood. Which he didn't.

Hermione just laughed. "Talk to Harry," she said.

"I will," he promised.

*

The next day, sitting in the stands with Ron at her side, Hermione grew more and more nervous.

"Ron, is he going to be okay? What if something happens, and the dragon team doesn't get there in time?"

Ron laughed. "He'll be okay, Hermione. Charlie's out there. Do you know how much grief Mum would give him if he let Harry get hurt?"

"Yeah," Ginny added, looking sideways from her seat at Hermione's right. "That threat is enough to make him jump in front of the dragon himself."

Hermione smiled. They were exaggerating, of course, but since they was just doing it to make her feel better, she didn't mind. It worked, too.

When Harry came out, and screwed his eyes shut to perform his Summoning Charm, Hermione stopped breathing. When his Firebolt sailed through the trees, she let out a deep sigh. It had worked. Now it was all up to Harry's flying skills, and she had no doubt that he could out-fly a dragon any day of the week.

Despite her logical side telling her that everything would be okay, she couldn't help but being her worried self.

As the dragon spouted fire at her best friend, Hermione couldn't help but grasp her own face in horror, digging her nails into her cheeks painfully.

Harry dived, and Hermione gave a small scream.

*

Ron heard her scream. Keeping his eyes on Harry, he reached out and grabbed her hand. Hermione caught the appendage in a death grip, her eyes wide with terror.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Ron heard her say under her breath, egging Harry on. When he grabbed the egg and soared out of the dragon's reach, all three of them gave triumphant yells.

Hermione grabbed Ginny in an excited, one-armed hug, seeing as Ron still had hold of her hand. Ron had no doubt that his own expression mirrored the relief on Ginny's face as she looked over Hermione's shoulder at him.

"C'mon, you two," Ron said. "Let's go find Harry."

"No, you two go ahead," Ginny said, blushing. "I'll stay here, okay?"

Ron rolled his eyes at her. "You are hopeless, Gin."

This statement caused his innocent, well mannered, precious little sister to reach behind Hermione and attempt to slap him across the face.

"You're one to talk," Ginny said pointedly, looking down to where Ron and Hermione's hands were still intertwined.

Ron dropped Hermione's hand as if it were on fire, as she glanced at him with a look that was particularly hard to decipher, although the blush that appeared on her cheeks was pretty straightforward

"Let's go find Harry," Ron repeated.

"Yeah, let's," Hermione said, rather breathlessly.

Ginny rolled her eyes, in that annoying way only a thirteen-year-old girl can pull off.

*

"Do you know what?" Ginny said slyly, cornering Hermione in the common room.

"Um, no," Hermione answered, looking confused. "What?"

"You are totally, completely obvious, Hermione," Ginny said with a grin.

"Obvious?" Hermione repeated, now even more confused.

"Oh, they say I'm helpless, hopeless and obvious," Ginny said flippantly. "That everyone under the sun can tell I fancy Harry. But you make my situation seem like the best kept secret around."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said, to save face. In reality, she had a pretty good guess.

"Let me spell it out for you," Ginny said. "You, Hermione Granger, fancy one, my brother, Ron Weasley."

"I do not," Hermione denied. "You're delusional."

"Yes, because I hold hands with my best friends all the time," Ginny smirked.

"That was just...I was just..." Hermione stuttered, "I was just...scared for Harry, is all. You know, looking to your friends for emotional support and that kind of thing."

Ginny nodded her head, although the look on her face said that she was having none of it.

"Ron and I are friends, Ginny," Hermione stated emphatically. "Nothing more."

"Right, and I'm just a big fluffy pink bunny with chocolate ears," Ginny said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What you are is impossible, Ginevra Molly Weasley."

"Shh!" Ginny hissed, looking around anxiously. "I told you not to use my full name! Someone might have heard you!"

Hermione smiled. "Bye, Ginevra."

Ginny groaned behind her as Hermione walked away.

*

Ron stood with his arms crossed, watching this exchange. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but Hermione looked rather uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Ginny turned around as if she was frightened. After talking a bit more, Hermione smiled and walked off. Wondering what it was all about, he followed Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione," he said quietly, sneaking up behind her as she read the notices on the board.

She jumped slightly, and turned to face him with an odd look on her face, and her face reddened slightly. Hermione seemed to be blushing a lot today.

"Ron, you scared me," Hermione said, smiling at him.

"I meant to," Ron said, giving her a smug look.

Hermione rolled her eyes. It was rather silly of him, but Ron loved it when she did that. He didn't know anyone else who was quite as exasperated with him, all the time. Despite his brain telling him that it was illogical, he rather adored that quality about her.

"Why do you make it your personal duty to torment me?" she asked, although the tone of her voice was friendly.

"Because, let's face it, it's just so much fun," Ron said, giving her a cheeky grin.

Hermione shook her head at him. "You're impossible."

"And you're a know-it-all," Ron shrugged. "Glad we've got that out of the way."

Hermione grinned and, to Ron's great surprise, gave him a hug. "You are such a great friend," she whispered. "Thank you for talking to him."

Ron didn't answer. He was too busy memorizing the feel of her arms around him. It was rather a good feeling, accompanied by a peculiar tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach.

No, no, not good, a little voice in the back of his head screamed. This is your best friend! Stop this nonsense!

Was it just him, or did that little voice sound suspiciously like Hermione?

"Thanks for making me talk to him," he whispered to her, briefly hugging her back before letting go and backing away. He was pretty sure that he was the one blushing now.

"Um, well..." Hermione started. "I'm just...going to bed, okay?"

"G'night, Hermione," Ron said automatically.

"Goodnight, Ron," she answered.

Ron didn't watch her ascend the stairs, as he didn't want a repeat of last night. He was already confused enough as it was.

Instead, he looked around the Common Room. Everyone was having fun, and no one seemed to have noticed that Ron had just hugged Hermione. This was probably a good thing, Ron mused.

Then he caught sight of Ginny. She was standing against the opposite wall, her arms crossed over her chest, with a particularly smug look on her face.

Now what was that all about?