A/N: Obviously, this is the world of JKR that I'm borrowing in between my originals. The plot, however, is mine and should not be taken. I haven't written fanfiction in a long time and this is my first post-Ootp one, but hopefully it's readable enough. Please review!

Ronald Weasley had a sneaking suspicion that finding medical robes attractive would not be seen by most as the most normal thought a wizard could have. However, he reasoned, no one could see Hermione Granger in robe like that and not feel some affinity for the things.

'Ron,' Hermione snapped irritably at him, when he had failed to answer yet another question correctly from the book she was quizzing him from, 'are you listening to me at all? Ron – WILL YOU STOP LOOKING AT ME IN THIS ROBE?'

'Wha-? Oh,' he stumbled unintelligently. 'Yeah, I'm listening. Transfiguring one single aspect of an object is more difficult than transfiguring the whole thing, because you have to be precise and –'

'We are supposed to be revising Charms,' she replied acidly. She twisted round to rearrange her pillows on her bed, groaning slightly as she did so. 'I hate the hospital wing,' she burst out savagely. 'It's not me who should be in here, it's the wretched Slytherins!'

'I know,' Ron attempted to console her. 'But don't worry – Harry's sure to hex any of them if you ask him politely. Or give him the excuse.' A week ago, Hermione had been the recipient of a few well-placed jinxes from some older Slytherin girls. Snape had walked out into the corridor and stopped them, but had warned everyone else in the vicinity that retaliation would only end in detention.

'You should wear the robe to the ball,' he suggested quietly, grinning. Hermione looked up.

'Oh – Ron –'

'What?'

'I'm so sorry! I can't… I can't go! Madam Pomfrey says I won't be well enough in time. I'm so, so sorry.'

'Oh,' said Ron coolly. 'It's okay. It might not've been that great anyway, I mean, Harry's not going…'

'No,' sighed Hermione softly. 'Ginny tried to persuade him, but he wouldn't go. She threatened to Bat Bogey Hex him, but I don't think he agreed.'

Ron breathed out heavily. 'Well, if she can't persuade him, no one can. I've never known any two people who'd be most scary if they were both angry, I mean, one's bad enough –'

'I wish he'd said yes to her.'

'Me too. They'd be good for each other.'

'Oh, Ron, that's not what I meant.'

'You don't think they'd be good for each other?' Ron asked her, his brow furrowed sceptically.

'Well… maybe. But you know Ginny got over her crush a long time ago.'

'So what?' he demanded.

'So we can't meddle with her and Harry. Although they did get much closer this summer, but still, it's not our business if –'

'You're talking about my best friend and my little sister, I think that means -'

'That I'm allowed listen in on this conversation?' Ron and Hermione turned very quickly towards the door, where Harry was standing smiling slightly at both of them, with a worse-for-wear-looking Neville being held up next to him, his legs shaking dangerously.

'Oh God – Neville!' shrieked Hermione. 'They didn't attack you too?'

'No,' Neville chuckled nervously. 'They – er – tried…' He shot a look at Harry, who grinned back. 'I tried to help when Harry defended me, and my wand backfired, been going wrong for awhile now…'

'Well, come and sit down, Madam Pomfrey should be back in –'

'Longbottom?' came Madam Pomfrey's voice, and she strode commandingly across the ward, coming to a stop next to Neville. 'Come and sit down or you'll make the muscles sore. You –' she pointed to Ron, 'you've been here long enough. You can leave with Mr Potter. Come on, out you go!'

'Goodbye!' Hermione called after them. 'Sorry about the ball, Ron!'

'What about the ball?' Harry asked Ron curiously as they exited the hospital wing. 'Can't she go?'

'No,' responded Ron disappointedly. 'I don't suppose you're…'

'I doubt it,' Harry said with a wry smirk. 'Spend an evening waltzing with the Slytherins? I don't think so.' Just as Ron was about to reply, something down the stairway they were about to descend caught his eye. A girl with long blonde hair with her back to them was standing facing Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, her wand out defiantly.

'Do you really think you stand a chance against three people?' Draco Malfoy drawled lazily, his eyes darting from side to side quickly to check that both Crabbe and Goyle had their wands out too. He dragged his own wand out of his robe pocket with a practised elegance, all the while staring maliciously at Luna. 'I know Potter thinks he's a cut above the rest, but why his friends should think such a thing –'

'At least he has friends!' Luna shouted. Harry had been watching the three Slytherins and Luna, his eyes narrowed dangerously as they gave this exchange. He started to step slowly down the staircase. Ron followed worriedly.

'Yes, but what a shame you don't have any friends, Lovegood. No friends to help you now. What, you still think someone's going to come for you? Well, that's a shame because –'

'We're already here.'

'What -? Potter!' Malfoy scowled darkly. Ron observed that this expression made him look even more ugly than usual.

'I'd appreciate it if you left Luna alone, Malfoy, because she's quite important. You see, she witnessed that great event of when you three had your fathers go to prison, and that's a memory I like to have replaying in my mind a lot…' Harry grinned confidently, and Ron couldn't help but laugh. If anyone was more like Fred and George when it came to Slytherins, it was Harry who won this award, not himself. 'Now stay out of my way for awhile or I might have to practice my stunning spells on you.' And with that, Harry walked through the opposite door; they could hear his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

'Well?' spat Malfoy viciously at Crabbe and Goyle. 'Go after him!' They hastened to obey, and Luna blinked up at Ron dreamily.

'Wouldn't Harry like you to help?'

'Oh no,' Ron grinned delightedly. 'Harry'd love the excuse to release some of his stress. Sixth year's very hard,' he said with a mock-sympathetic look at Malfoy.

'You think just because you're the famous Harry Potter's best friend it means it doesn't matter.'

'What doesn't matter, Malfoy?' Ron queried, with an air of sounding politely curious. He gripped his wand inside his pocket.

'You think it doesn't matter who your family is. That you come from a family of no wealth or status, or that your mother's just a –'

'One word about my mother, Malfoy, and you're dead,' said Ron heatedly, feeling blood rush to his ears.

'Well how about your sister then? Oh yeah, no difference there as you're all Potter-loving and Mudblood-fancying freaks –' With a snarl of fury, Ron had charged towards Malfoy, his hand had released his wand and he was aiming at Malfoy's throat. A second later he felt hands tugging at the back of his robes – he tried to shove them off – and then, 'Stupefy!' He realised that Malfoy had gone limp underneath him, and that the flash of wand-light had come from Luna. He got up judiciously, shooting Luna a wary look.

'Someone was coming,' she informed him, sounding vaguely interested. Ron listened, and heard the sound of Professor McGonagall yelling at someone. 'Come on. We can leave him here.'

They walked purposely through the nearest door, strolling innocently along the corridors until they reached the entrance hall. A girl who Ron presumed to be Pansy Parkinson's younger sister and some of her equally unattractive Slytherin friends were standing in the centre, one of the girls caught his attention – she resembled a banshee, in Ron's opinion; this was all the more convincing as she was crying shrilly.

'Don't worry, Jemima!' one of the other girls was saying to the banshee girl reassuringly. 'I'm sure there'll be plenty of girls who aren't bothering with a date! And –' she gave a nasty smile, revealing yellowing teeth, 'plenty that didn't get asked at all.' Here she looked directly at Luna, who was humming dreamily and hadn't noticed.

'But, Brenda!' Jemima cried piercingly, 'It's not like I got asked –'

'That's just because Crabbe hasn't noticed you yet! He will in time, you know boys are just slow.' Ron sniggered: 'slow' truly was the most accurate assessment of Crabbe. Brenda looked scornfully at him, then at Luna, and said again, 'Like I said, some losers don't have anyone. I'll show you. Oi, Lovegood!'

Luna looked around at her dazedly. 'Oh, hello,' she said brightly and Ron cringed. 'Have you done the Potions essay? I found it rather hard.'

Brenda snorted and demanded, 'Who're you going to the ball with?'

'Oh,' replied Luna, looking as taken aback as it was possible for her to be. 'Well, I hadn't really…'

'See, Jemima?' Brenda giggled, sneering triumphantly at her friend. 'Lovegood definitely hasn't got anyone. I mean, even Longbottom wouldn't want to go with her.'

Ron was feeling very insulted by the slight on both his friends, and very sorry for Luna. Still grateful to her for saving him from McGonagall's wrath earlier (and for displaying an admittedly perfect Stunning Spell on Malfoy), he couldn't help blurting out suddenly, 'Actually she is going with someone. Me.'

Everyone turned around to stare at him incredulously, except Luna who merely looked mildly surprised. 'Yeah, that's right!' he carried on recklessly (who was the one responsible for saying this?), 'We're going together. So you can shut your mouths. C'mon, Luna.'

When they got into the great hall, Ron couldn't look at her. He simply muttered a brusque, ''Bye', then left for the hospital wing to see Hermione.

Twisted, thought Ron. That's the word to describe life. Twisted.

Somehow, it was Easter Sunday, and Ron was sitting on his bed in his dormitory dressed in his best robes, given to him by Fred and George. These were not the purple ones that they had bought him for his fifth year – 'They're not maroon!' the twins had chorused indignantly as Ron raised his eyebrows at the colour – but a pair that he had chosen himself, and sent Fred and George the money to pick them up for him in Diagon Alley.

The dark blue denim robes had arrived a little before the annual Easter eggs from his mother, accompanied with his money and a note from the twins bearing the words, Don't be a prat.

'Scourify!'

Dean was sitting over the other side of the room, trying to get the mud off his shoes, and Seamus had already left – nervously flattening his hair – to meet Lavender. Ron had no idea where Harry was. Neville was in the bathroom, although Ron didn't know who his date was going to be.

'What's another word for "twisted"?' Ron questioned Dean seriously; his train of thought crashed violently as he remembered that he was going to the ball with Luna and not Hermione.

'Dunno,' replied Dean thoughtfully. '"Perverted"?'

Definitely not the word, Ron winced to himself. He decided that "twisted" would quite suit the situation for now. How was it that he would be spending an entire evening with Luna – whom he had only asked – if you could call that asking – out of pity in the first place? Although, he had to admit, the look on Hermione's face had been worth it.

'Hermione?' he had tried tentatively. 'Um… how would you like it if I took someone to the Easter ball?'

Hermione had looked startled, then said, 'Ron, I think it'd be a little difficult for Fleur Delacour to make it, her being in London and all…'

'It's not Fleur!' Ron muttered. He didn't like it when she was the one teasing him.

'Well, still,' Hermione continued, grinning in a way that he found both captivating and exasperating, 'Madam Rosmerta is a little busy with The Three Broomsticks, so unless they happen to need someone to serve drinks –'

'It's Luna, alright?'

'Really?' Hermione looked placidly interested. 'I never knew you had a thing for Nargles or whatever else it is she's always going on about.'

'Look, some Slytherin girls were starting on her about not having a date, and I felt sorry for her, so I said I was her date. I couldn't help it. I mean, she's…'

'Blonde like a Veela?'

'No! She's the only one who Harry'll talk to about Sirius, and that has to count for something.' Hermione bit her lip, observing Ron appraisingly. 'What?' he snapped, annoyed more at himself than at her.

'You're very kind, Ron.' Ron felt his cheeks flood with colour at these words. 'And if you have time, come and see me up here. Tell me all about your date with Luna.'

'It's not a date!' Ron had roared, but right at that moment Madam Pomfrey had bustled over and ordered him out.

And now Ron sat on his bed, preparing himself for the worst: an evening with no one but Loony Lovegood to talk to, a missed opportunity to see Hermione in dress robes, and the vision of himself doing a kind of salsa dance playing tauntingly in his head.

'I won't ask you to dance. Padma Patil warned me you don't like to.'

'Hmm,' Ron answered Luna noncommittally, staring around hopefully for someone he knew. 'D'you know if Ginny's coming?'

'No,' said Luna inattentively, also gazing around them now. 'I can't see her. I thought she'd come with Harry. They're very close, you know.'

'Close?' repeated Ron, distracted suddenly. 'Close how?'

'Well, Ginny was the one Harry talked to about Sirius Black last year.'

'What? Harry talked to Ginny?'

'Not about his death, of course, but when Harry wanted to talk to him in Umbridge's fire.'

'He doesn't talk to anyone about Sirius,' Ron sighed to himself.

'He's talked to me about it a little. Neville, too.'

'Oh… really?' said Ron offhandedly, trying hard to conceal his jealousy at these words. Luna seemed to read him like a book.

'I wouldn't worry,' she said, patting his shoulder, her silver bangles clinking audibly.

'Yeah… well. D'you want to go outside, or something?'

'Yes, alright then,' Luna replied decidedly, getting up to follow him out. Ron had been very relieved when he laid eyes on her when they first met; she was wearing an ethereal light blue dress that swirled gently at her ankles, her long hair piled high with her wand caught precariously through it. As they walked through the gardens where it was still light and warm, Ron noticed a large emerald pendant that hung on a silver chain around her neck.

'That's nice,' he told her graciously, pointing to it.

'It was my mother's.' Her voice was quiet.

'Did she give it to you?'

'No… My father found it in a drawer during summer. He doesn't usually look at her things, but he wanted me to have this.'

Ron hadn't quite comprehended what she had said, but as he glanced over at the Forbidden Forest, he remembered that Luna could, like Harry and Neville, see Thestrals. A sudden realisation dawned on him, and swiftly he no longer minded that Harry confided to her about Sirius. They sat down on a nearby bench.

'So erm…' Ron wondered what to say. 'What classes do you share with Ginny?'

'We met when we had Charms together. I remember, she's sat next to Colin Creevey since the first lesson. Except for when he was Petrified, of course. She was very quiet, in our first year.'

'Quiet – Ginny?' spluttered Ron, trying to connect these two words which were totally foreign to each other.

'I expect the Chamber of Secrets stuff didn't help. But people liked her a lot, even after that. She's very friendly and she always sticks up for people. It must…' She stumbled slightly, and looked at the ground. 'It must run in the family. Thank you for taking me to the ball, Ron.'

'Oh,' burbled Ron, feeling fairly flustered. 'That's okay… I mean, Hermione was in the hospital wing anyway, and…'

'You really like Hermione.'

'Well, I – yes –'

'And you were very jealous when Viktor Krum went to the ball with her. I thought that was why you didn't dance with Padma.' Ron was undergoing more than a slight sense of embarrassment now; Luna was making him very uncomfortable. 'She's liked you for a very long time. Ginny said you liked her too, but she never said that to Hermione. She left you to it.'

Ron and Luna were both silent after her proclamation. Feeling a bit insecure because of all the information she had on him, Ron said tentatively, 'So, um, do you, er, like anyone?'

'I think so,' Luna replied in decidedly undecided voice. 'I'm not sure yet.'

Finally, thought Ron, something we have in common. 'Don't worry, I used to feel like that all the time.'

'What changed your mind?'

'I…' He had to think for a moment. 'Well, Hermione sort of sprung how she felt upon me, so I didn't really have a choice but to say how I felt.'

Luna smiled. 'I see.'

'Can I ask you a question?' Ron said suddenly. Where did that come from?

'If you like.'

'Er.' He hesitated. 'Some people… well, some people think you're a bit strange – not that I do, or anything – just – well, does it bother you?'

'Bother me… that others are unimaginative? Not really.'

'Oh… okay,' Ron mumbled carefully. 'Well… good for you.'

Luna looked at him sharply. 'Malfoy calls Hermione names.' She stopped.

Ron blinked. 'Well, yes,' he said. 'I know that.'

'That bothers you, doesn't it? But it doesn't stop you from caring about her. She's still important to you even though other people say bad things.'

And Malfoy's a git whose opinion doesn't matter.

'It's the same thing, really,' she continued, staring into space dreamily. 'Other people may not like me for who I am, but these things are important so I ignore what others say. You wouldn't stop being with Hermione because anyone said anything.'

'Of course not,' agreed Ron. 'She's too –'

'Important to you,' finished Luna.

'Yeah. Yeah, that's –' He broke off at the sound of familiar laughter.

'What else, what else?' said the same person who had been laughing.

'Last time I saw him, he'd had his hair put into little plaits and was asking to be called "Gildie" for short,' said Neville, and Ginny giggled again.

'Ron! – Luna! Hi,' Ginny beamed, sounding breathless. 'Neville was just telling me all about Gilderoy Lockhart – remember, we saw him last Christmas?' Ginny looked a lot older than usual, Ron realised. She was wearing a delicate white gown and her long fiery hair had been pinned up, a white flower fastened in it. Ron suspected traces of makeup although he decided not to comment.

'Wow, I'm thirsty,' said Ginny. 'Would you walk me back inside so I could get a drink, Ron?' Before he could answer, Ginny had dragged him roughly back to his feet and was speaking to Luna and Neville. 'I'll see you later. Thank you for talking to me for so long, Neville,' she added.

Luna patted Ron's elbow awkwardly from where she was still sitting. 'Thank you,' she said simply.

'You're welcome,' Ron said, really smiling at her. Somehow (and he was not sure when) he had gained some sort of mutual respect, and even – possibly – an understanding of Luna. He didn't care to analyse it. 'Good night, Luna. Neville.'

'Are you really so thirsty we had to go away that quickly?' Ron questioned his sister as they headed back towards the castle. He peered more closely at her. Definitely some eye thingy, he determined.

'Oh, Ron.' Ginny rolled her – outlined – eyes at him. 'I think Neville and Luna need to talk a bit, that's all.' She opened the door to the entrance hall and they stepped inside.

'But why would they – OH!'

'Honestly, why are boys so slow?'

'It's not our fault. We don't mean to be.' Harry had come down from the staircase leading to Gryffindor Tower, and was observing them with amusement. 'I was going to walk around outside for a bit.'

'Well, why don't you two –' began Ron. Suddenly, Luna's words replayed themselves in his head. Ginny said you liked her too, but she never said that to Hermione. She left you to it. 'Erm.' There was a pause. 'I think I'm going to visit Hermione in the hospital wing. 'Night, both of you…'

Ron walked almost to the top of the stairway leading to the hospital wing before he turned and glanced back down. Sure enough, Harry was holding open the door, and he and Ginny were stepping back out into the evening.

Continuing to walk, Ron reflected over the night's events. Really, this whole mental growth and maturing thing was a tiring business. But not tiring enough for him to go straight to Gryffindor Tower.

He still owed Hermione a visit.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review and tell me what you think!