"I can't believe you haven't finished this already! The essay's due tomorrow, and you've not even begun!"
Harry shrugged. "I was actually hoping—"
"No, you can't copy mine. Here, I'll even show you the page in the book with all the answers," sighed Hermione.
"Thanks," Harry said quickly. He pulled the heavy book into his lap and immediately buried his face in it. It wasn't that he was excited about researching his essay—Ron had come into the common room.
Ron and Hermione's eyes met for a second, and Ron stomped over to the fireplace, turning his back on her.
"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione shouted.
The chatter in the common room faded, and every eye turned to the pair.
"I don't know how you can possibly blame me for this!"
"I'll tell you how," Ron bellowed, whirling around. "Because it was your fault!"
"It wasn't my fault; I don't know how you could say that!"
"Because it's true!"
"It's not true, Ron, you're just being stupid!"
Harry lowered his book, watching them over the top of the page.
"If you weren't such a bloody know-it-all, this never would have happened in the first place!" Ron's ears were red, and his face was beginning to match them.
Indignant, Hermione jumped to her feet. "And you always get angry about everything! As if anything I don't tell you is intended to hurt your feelings!"
Ron advanced on her, the color of his cheeks clashing violently with his hair. "You're just jealous! Because you know that if Harry and I hadn't saved you from the troll at the beginning of our first year everyone would still hate you!"
A fraction of a second of pause, and Hermione slapped him.
Everyone in the common room gasped. Ron covered his wounded cheek with his hand and stared mutely at her. Harry had abandoned all pretenses of studying.
In the awkward silence, Parvati Patil giggled nervously.
"That was low," Hermione said. "I can't believe you'd ever say that! I expect before long you'll be calling me awful names like Malfoy!"
"What, now I'm like Malfoy just because I told the truth? Seems a little funny to me!"
Their voices were rising again. Harry glanced toward the portrait hole, wondering if a teacher would hear somehow and come break up the fight.
"You're jealous, Ron! Because Harry's the famous one and I'm the smart one and what are you? You're just the other one!"
"You see, now you're even bragging about yourself! Oh, look, it's Hermione Granger, best student in our year! Best student in Griffindor, even, or in Hogwarts!"
"Shut up, Ron!"
"You shut up! You're the one who's always going on about something! Always giving all the answers in class, and all the teachers love you! Everyone loves Hermione!"
"Except you, obviously! Well, that's just fine!"
"Fine!" Ron shouted.
"Fine!" screamed Hermione. "And don't bother speaking with me anymore!"
"It doesn't matter! You'll never stop speaking to me!"
Hermione started to slap him again, but Ron caught her arm. She looked at her hand, then back up at Ron. Something changed in their faces, and suddenly they were kissing.
Another collective gasp, and Harry dropped the book onto the floor.
The students in the common room held their breath, watching a kiss that seemed to stretch on for hours. At last, Ron and Hermione broke apart.
"It wasn't my fault!" Hermione shouted, and stormed back up to her room.
Ron looked at Harry, then at the others, all of whom were staring at him, openmouthed. He gazed at the stairs to the girls' rooms for a moment, then slowly crossed the room and fell into the seat beside Harry. Still staring after Hermione, he whispered hoarsely, "Bloody hell."