Disclaimer: If you're reading this, you have Internet access. If you have Internet access, then you are connected to the outside world. If you are connected to the outside world, you know that J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.
"Hermione," said Ron with substantial exasperation, "that's your thirty-second time through Hogwarts, a History."
Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him. "So?"
"So, what's the point? You've got the bloody thing memorized by now."
"It's important to know everything about where you live, Ron," she told him snidely.
He rolled his eyes. "There are more important things in life, you know."
"Oh, like you'd know about important things," she snapped. "All you care about is Quidditch, and the Chubby Cannons, and that Wonky Faint thing, and –"
"Chudley Cannons," said Ron through gritted teeth. "And anyway, you're the one with the Quidditch star boyfriend."
"He is not my boyfriend," she said angrily. "See, Quidditch is still all you care about."
"Not true."
"Oh, really," said Hermione, her severe gaze rivaling McGonagall's. "Then what?"
"Well," he said, looking somewhat uncomfortable, "my family and all. And Harry."
"Me too," she said quietly. "Where is he, anyway?"
Ron had opened his mouth as if to say something else, but simply answered, "Dormitory," jerking his thumb in the direction of the boys' staircase.
Hermione bit her lip.
Ron, who was watching her sullenly, burst out, "You like him, don't you."
"What?" said Hermione, mystified. "Of course. Honestly, Ron, where have you been the past five years?"
"I've been right here," he said, his voice escalating. A couple third years looked around to see what the noise was, but quickly lost interest; the whole common room was used to their spats.
"Exactly," said Hermione, still looking completely lost. "I've been friends with you just as long as Harry." Ron muttered something that she couldn't catch. "What?"
He looked her straight in the eye. "I should've expected it. The hero always gets the girl."
Hermione blinked several times. "I…you…but…how thick are you, anyway?" she finally exploded. "Ginny and Harry are moony over each other, that's obvious to everyone except them!"
"Bitter, are you?"
"No! I haven't seen either of them so happy in a year!"
"So –" said Ron uncertainly, "so…you don't like him, then?"
"Not like that," said Hermione, rubbing her temples. "Honestly."
"Oh," said Ron, looking sheepish. Hermione returned to her book. Ron resumed scratching away at his essay.
"Ron?" she said, breaking the uneasy silence.
"Hmm?"
"Y'know how you said you've been right here?"
"Yeah."
"So have I," she said, focusing very intently on the page.
"Well, jolly good," said Ron. "We're all here."
"Oh, shut up."
"Make me."
"That was mature," said Hermione snidely.
"Forgive me, O great one," he snapped. "I forgot I was dealing with the Princess of Maturity."
Hermione glared at him. "Don't call me that."
"Should I call you Hermy-own-ninny? Good enough for Krum, wasn't it?"
"You're not Krum!"
"Oh, don't I know it," he said bitterly.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," he muttered, the tips of his ears going red.
"I don't know what your problem is with Krum! I'm allowed to have a pen pal!"
"Some pen pal!"
"You know what I think? I think you're just jealous. Just because he's a Quidditch star! Honestly, Ron, get over it!"
"That's not – oh, shut up."
"Make me," she retorted.
He did the only thing he could think of then, and kissed her.
"It's about time," said Parvati, who came down the dormitory stairs to the scene. They jumped.
"Well, you did tell me to make you shut up," he said with a lopsided grin. Hermione's cheeks were flaming at Parvati's sudden appearance, and she grabbed her book again. However, thought Ron, observing her, she didn't seem to notice that it was upside down. And he wasn't sure why the subject of Rowena Ravenclaw was making her smile like that.
"You didn't let me finish my list of people I cared about," he said quietly.
She looked up.
"You."
The end.