A/N: I'm kind of putting this up without a clue where it's going, so any sort of criticism (or saying you love it) or ideas are welcome! So read, enjoy, and review.

"Bloody hell."

"What captain?" A cheery Colin Creevy asked. Of course Colin had grown up quite a bit. He had lost his camera and grown a couple of feet. He was asking this of Captain Ronald Weasley, who was at this moment bent over his desk a rubbing his temples.

He sighed an anguished sigh. "Would they just get it over with. I mean honestly, they've been dancing around it for ages and it's giving me bloody headache."

Now normally when one enters a conversation without the use of proper names, one is lost, but Colin knew what the problem was. They all had just gone through another Arour meeting in which Hermione and Harry had spent the entire thing side by side, sending each other unconscious glances, and volunteering to work together while blushing horribly. It wouldn't be so bad if they weren't each twenty years old and acting like first years wit crushes. Besides, at this age they shouldn't blush.

"Well, cap', maybe they'll finally get wind of their stupidity on this mission." Colin sat on the paper-strewn desk.

"Oh please! They haven't caught wind of it for years, why start now. You remember, we still have bets from the Gryffindor tower going on when they'll get together. And don't call me cap'" He popped a muggle aspirin in his mouth.

"Right. I had fifty galleons on graduation night. Dean is quite the bookie."

Ron's head popped up from his arms. He snapped open his desk drawer and ripped through it.

"What'ya looking for cap'?"

"Don't call me cap'. Ah, this is it." He mumbled while pulling out a beaten looking, brown leather bound book. He blew off some dust and flipped it open. "Here it is. Look." He pointed to a weathered page.

Colin bent over it and began reading. "Dear Journal, today Lavender showed me her...hmm cap' I never knew."

Ron smacked him smartly on the head. "Below that."

"I placed my bet on mission HH for the twentieth of May, when we're all twenty. Don't ask me why, but it seemed brilliant, now back to Lav." Colin earned himself another smack."Ow!" He rubbed the back of his head then began again. "Well, that's next week, but cap', with all due respect, you haven't been able to do anything about it so far, what can you do now?"

"I don't know, but I'll think of something, I'm certainly not going to let Dean collect my money. Now get your mail boy butt of my rank-pulling desk, so I can earn my five-hundred Galleon bet back."

"Okay cap'-"

"And I order you to stop calling me cap!" He roared. Normally Ron roaring scared people, but Colin just stood there.

"That's the idea!" Colin jumped off the desk and went beside Ron's head. His voice went silky smooth as he whispered in Ron's ear. "The moonlight." He moved to the other side of his head. "The music." Switching to the other ear once more. "A quiet bistro." Moving again. "A pair destined for love."

"Colin if you're asking me out on a date you must be joking."

"And you giving orders in the stakeout van. Ordering them into confession."

Ron just stared at him for a moment. "You want me to use a potentially dangerous stakeout to win a bet while abusing my station as captain; that I got, mind you, because my best mate wanted to stay on patrol. The best mate I'll be sabotaging to win the bet." Ron stood up, trying to use his full height, trying to intimidate young Colin.

Colin stood too. "Not sabotaging, helping. You're helping him win the girl he loves."

Ron crossed his arms. "Colin that's mad. Bloody mad."

He stood up and smacked Ron on the back. "And just mad enough to get your two best mates together and force the entire Gryffindor tower alumni into debt."

Ron looked at him skeptically as he tried to count in his head how much he would win. "What's in it for you? Why are you helping me?"

Colin looked at his feet and got a proper faux innocent look on his face. "Well," He started in a sickly sweet voice. "I've always admired Harry,"

"And?"

"And Hermione is, just the sweetest thing,"

"And?" He growled.

"And she's sweet, but she's not as sweet as Ginny, and not as sweet as a date with Gin would be, ordained, of course, by her older brother." The Weasley boys didn't take kindly to any suitors for Ginny.

Ron's face quickly colored and just as quickly he went white with rage. He opened his mouth to say something, but Colin went on.

"And maybe, just maybe, fifty percent of the winnings."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Colin, what happened to your nose?" Hermione asked, looking at the young boy's bruised and bandaged nose.

"Hazardous working conditions, anyway Hermione, here for your briefing?" She nodded. "And where's your puppy?"

"What?" Colin always got a kick out of the ever clever Hermione being genuinely confused.

"You know, Raven haired boy, about yeh tall." He put up his hand a few inches above his head. "Follows you around like a puppy, would fetch you the paper and your slippers in his mouth if you told him to."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, but if you're wondering as to Harry's where-abouts he should be in at any moment."

Harry stepped in just then. "What?"

"Oh nothing, what have you got there?" Colin asked of the bundle Harry held in his arms.

"Oh, nothing much, here Hermione." He untangled his own jacket from two other things he was holding. "You left your slippers at my house yesterday, and here's your copy of the prophet. I'm going to get some coffee, want any Mione?"

"No, thank you." And with that he left the room.

Colin looked pointedly at Hermione. "Don't look at me like that! They weren't in his mouth and I didn't ask him to get my paper, he just does."

Colin's eyebrows went up. "Slippers? At his house? Yesterday?"

Her hands went on her hips. "Do you want another bloody nose? We were painting his flat and I wore my slippers so I wouldn't get paint on my shoes. Honestly!" She threw her hands up in frustration.

Ron walked in. "Colin giving you a hard time?"

"Yes." She scowled.

"Colin, get me coffee and the new prophet."

"You have coffee in your hand and Hermione's got a new copy of the prophet right there, read that."

"I would, but I'm trying tactfully to get you to leave, now go."

"Aye aye captain. goodbye Mrs. Potter." He saluted to Ron and made a small bow to Hermione while winking at her.

Once he closed the door Hermione addressed Ron. "I really do worry about that boy sometimes."

"Which boy?" Harry came in and closed the door.

"Oh, Colin. Well, never mind. Why don't you both have a seat." He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.

"Yes Captain." Harry said grinning,

"Oh ha ha. If you had been man enough to take this job and stop your gallivanting, you'd get a corner office too."

"Oh please, and give up blessed freedom? Then again you could join us on the next mission. Clean up rouge death eaters, maybe even get a death threat or two."

"You know, old times." Hermione finished for him.

"I think having Colin as an assistant is enough of a death threat and we relive old times every time we get together. I happen to like an evening with butterbeer better than fighting death eaters who won't believe their master is dead."

"Well if you won't join us, why don't you tell us what fun we'll be having?"

"Oh yes, dangerous mission, this one is. You're spot will be the outdoor lounge of materias del amor."

"The Spanish restaurant in London? That's not exactly a crime bed, and I don't think we have a chance of closing it down for inquires." Hermione said.

"No, we're not closing it down., but it is a hot spot for death eaters. They're drawn to the exclusive reputation."

"And the Empanadas." Harry added, earning a slap in the arm from Hermione.

"No, Harry's right. They have great Empanadas. Anyway, you two will act like you're on a date-"

"WHAT?" They said in unison.

"What? What is a better chance to get revenge than your rival's date?"

"Strategically it's good, but I just don't think..."

"It could go seriously wrong Ron." Harry finished. "We're too good of friends, we can't act like we're on a date."

"You've been on thousands of dates Harry, you're Witch Weekly's number one charmer, of course you can have a play date."

"That may be true, but what about me? I've got no experience with him on any other ground than friendship. Besides that, you have realized since we have only been seen as friends by the media; this will only be seen as friendly rendezvous."

"That is why I have taken the liberty of setting up a Witch Weekly story on our only female auror and what it's taken you to get there, not to mention your personal life. They have been asking for your story since the week after the dark lord fell. A hero sells and they know it. It also helps if the hero is best friends with the boy-who-lived."

"I refuse! Ron you can't do this to me. You'll be feeding me to the wolves. Do you know what Witch Weekly does to women like me?"

"No, but you'll be able to tell me all about it once you get done with your photo shoot."

Harry was sitting quietly in his chair trying desperately not to start into hysterics, but with all his efforts his face was turning blue and his shoulders were shaking uncontrollably.

"Do you find this funny?" Hermione faced him.

Harry finally burst. The room practically shook with his laughing. When he finally composed himself he looked at her with a blank expression. "No Hermione, why would you think that?"

"That's it, I am most definitely not doing this. It's depraved. It's wrong. I refuse." Hermione folded her arms.