Author's note: Just a little drabble about Ron and Hermione. Takes place in the sixth year while Ron and Lavender are dating.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters. These words, however, are mine.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! My alarm clock shouted, waking me up from a lovely dream I'd been having. I'd been grading papers for Professor McGonagall, and when I got to Lavender Brown's, it's been filled with stupid answers, so I gave her a zero, and she couldn't move to the next year with the rest of us. Ahhhh… if only.

As I got dressed, the real Lavender bombarded us all with details of her and Ron's relationship. Please. I knew more about Ron than she ever could. It sickened me to hear her talk about it, so I decided to do my hair and make-up downstairs in the common room.

I walked down the stairs and sat down in my favorite chair, holing a mirror to apply my make-up. I had just finished when a familiar voice rang out.

"Hermione! Where are you?" Ron called, most likely needing answers for a worksheet he hadn't bothered completing. He stood at the foot of the stairs to the boys' dormitory, scanning the room for me.

"Ron. I'm right here."

"Oh." He came and sat beside me. "Hermione, I don't feel too well. Do you have anything for a headache?"

Of course he was asking me. To him I was a friend, a tutor, and a nurse, among other things. Sometimes I found this attitude annoying, but on days like these, it was just endearing. Any discussion he had with me instead of Lavender was endearing. I pondered his question.

"Well, how does it hurt?"

"I don't know, it just does."

I put my hand to his forehead. "Ron, you're burning up. I think you're sick."

He almost looked cheerful. "Does this mean I can skip class today?"

"Yes… but it also means you'll have to go to the hospital wing, which means you won't be able to play in the Quidditch game tomorrow."

He groaned, whether in reaction to his head or my statement, I couldn't be sure. "Can't I just stay here?"

I was a bit exasperated, but a plan was forming. If I could just get him to fall into it… "You'd need someone to take care of you, and I doubt Lavender would know what to do."

Luckily, he was as naïve as I needed. "You know all about this kind of stuff, right? Could you stay with me?"

I pretended to deliberate. "I don't know, Ron. I have classes I should go to…"

"Aww, please, Hermione? Just one day, I promise."

I sighed. "Fine, but just this once."

He smiled sleepily. "Thank you."

Lavender's voice came down the stairway. "Ron? Ron? Would you, like, come here? Ron?" The poor guy looked like he was about to commit suicide.

"Go, hide in your room. I'll tell her you've gone with Harry to breakfast." Harry, actually, was with Ginny, goodness knows what they were doing.

Lavender emerged from the staircase, looked around for Ron, and, not seeing him, came over to me. "Hermione, where is Ron? I assume you would know."

Can you say catty? Or how about jealous? "You assume correctly," I said, just to ruffle her feathers. "He's gone to breakfast with Harry."

She rolled her eyes and left.

As soon as she was out the door, Ron came out of hiding. "Thanks, Hermione," he said as he lied down on the couch across from me. Everyone else had gone to breakfast, leaving us alone.

I walked over and kneeled on the ground by his head. "Accio cloth!" I murmured. As a damp cloth came flying towards me, a grabbed it from the air and placed it on Ron's forehead. I then summoned a blanket, bread, and some headache medicine.

Ron settled in to take a nap while I sat by him reading a healing book, trying to diagnose him. Finally, I came across the result and smiled. He had a cold. That's it. I looked over my shoulder at the sleeping figure behind me.

"Er… nee…" He murmured.

"What, Ron? What is it?" I whispered.

"Hermione…"