"I won!" a red headed boy delightfully shouted from a corner of the Gryffindor common room to his bespectacled friend, as a loud crash sounded from one of the latter's chess pieces dropping to the ground. Hermione looked up from her book disapproving at them. Didn't they understand that this was a common room and not their own area, reserved for none but themselves.
She sighed, exasperatedly as the the black headed boy named Harry, eagerly replied, "Yeah, that was a really good game! Do you fancy another?" Hermione shook her head at their foolish lack of judgement. Honestly, they were playing a game of chess, when they should ideally be finishing their homework! She loudly tutted, looking back up at them, as another clash was heard from their table. Couldn't they have a little respect for their fellow students?
The red-headed boy raised an eyebrow at her in mock curiosity. "Something the matter?" he asked in an annoyingly contemptuous manner.
Hermione gave him a glare, before once again returning her attention to her book, as the two utterly immature boys caught each other's eye and started sniggering in the background.
"Say, Harry," Ron asked, trying to get some sort of an idea of what his Potions homework was all about, "do you know where a Bezoar can be found?"
"I have no idea," Harry said shaking his head, "perhaps in the apothecary at Diagon Alley?" Ron started guffawing madly.
"Good one," he laughed, pretending to jot it down, "and...what about it's uses?"
"Hmm, perhaps-" Harry started to say, before he was suddenly interrupted by none other than Hermione Granger.
"Excuse me," she said in tone that annoyed Ron immensely, "but I couldn't help listening to your supposed answers about what Bezoars were and I couldn't stop myself from wondering of how the concentration levels of the two of you were so limited. I thought I should let you know, for your sakes alone, that a bezoar is actually a stone that is removed from the stomach of a goat, and it is the ingestion of such a stone that is said to cure most poisons."
"One can't even get two minutes of fun in this place," Ron grumbled, once Hermione had finished rattling off her definition.
Harry nodded his head. "Thanks," he told her coolly, "but I think we can manage our homework ourselves, without being interrupted, if you please."
"Very well," Hermione responded agitatedly, taking a deep breath as if to prevent herself from blowing up, "don't come crying, then, if you receive double detention from Professor Snape, because of your pathetic homework."
"Don't worry," Ron called after her, as she stormed away, "we won't!"
Hermione gathered up her books, as she awaited Professor Flitwick to call out her name with that of whom she was to be paired with. As long as it wasn't either of those two stuck-up boys in her house, she didn't mind. However, luck seemingly, wasn't on her side.
"Miss Granger, you can work with Mr...Weasley," the charms Professor instructed, looking up from his register as Hermione reluctantly made her way over to the red headed boy's side with a dirty look fixed on her face.
"Afraid, I'll steal your fire?" the boy asked her in a cold, teasing voice, when she strode up to him.
"You wait," she replied with equal disregard and scorn, "I doubt you practised your 'swish and click' movement at all, anyway. You were to busy playing chess, were you not?"
The boy smirked. "We'll see," he told her as the class began.
"She's a nightmare, honestly!" Hermione heard the agitating freckled-face boy- Ron Weasley say in an annoying tone, which she did her best to ignore. "I Levi-O-sa, not levio-sar!" he mimicked, giving her a pointed glance, as the others around him laughed hysterically. Hermione widened their eyes as realisation dawned on her. Could they possibly we talking about her?
"It's a wonder she has no friends," the Weasley boy continued to drawl on. Hermione felt her eyes filling with tears. She walked forward hurriedly, past them, holding her books protectively at her chest as she stifled a sob.
"I think she heard you," the famous Harry Potter boy informed his teasing friend, as Hermione increased her walking speed to a brisk pace. How rude and mean were they? She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she hurried along the corridor, keeping here head low down.
After a while, she suddenly spotted a seemingly deserted area, from the corner of her eyes. Sniffing slightly, she hastily made her way ahead, to take refuge in the girls bathroom.
Hermione stood facing her two house mates. For a moment an awkward silence filled the air, before she quickly said, "I just wanted to say thanks for today," keeping her eyes fixed on the ground.
"It's alright," the boy named Harry told her, "thanks for covering up for us."
"Yeah," the Ronald Weasley boy agreed, taking Hermione by surprise, "sorry for insulting you. It was really brilliant of you to come up with a story like that in front of McGonagall."
"Yes," Harry nodded, "I would never have been able to do that, myself, you know."
"It was nothing," Hermione muttered, shrugging her shoulders absurdly, trying her best to pretend to be heedless of her fluttering heart.
"Hermine, come on!" Ron urged, pulling his friend by the hand, trying to get her away from her book, "Harry's practise would have already started five minutes ago!"
Hermione sighed deeply. Wringing her hands, she frustratedly responded, "Honestly, Ronald, you sound as if we're missing the match itself. Besides, it doesn't really matter since we've seen all his four previous practises and we probably will be seeing all the others which are soon to come."
"But, Hermione..." Ron groaned, "This is his fifth practise! It's important."
"As were his fourth, third, second, as well as his first!" Hermione retorted, a smug look fixed on her face. "Anyway, if the fifth one is so important to you as well, why don't you head down to the Quidditch Pitch yourself, without having to drag me along?"
"But, Hermione," Ron grumbled, "you're supposed to be there to support Harry as well! I don't want to go to the Quidditch Pitch on my own and sit there like a dunderhead!"
"Aha!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping up from her seat, nearly blotting her parchment in the bargain, "so that's why me there- to give you company in acting like a dunderhead! I knew there had to be a reason!"
"Yeah, well," Ron sheepishly continued, "so, will you come?"
Hermione looked up at Ron, with a bemused expression. "Very well," she laughed, "though next time, you will have to try harder!"
Dear Ron,
Merry Christmas! I hope that both you and Harry are well and are enjoying yourselves at Hogwarts. I am having a wonderful winter here with my parents, though missing the two of you immensely.
Apart from having a carefree time at Hogwarts, presumably both of you have not forgotten that the exams are around the corner, and hopefully, you are using the majority of your free time in a productive manner- catching up with your homework, along with doing additional research about what's hidden under the trap door.
If you find anything interesting, I would love to know! Once again, a very merry Christmas to you!
All my love,
Hermione.
Ron read the letter a few times in his mind before folding it neatly and putting on his bedside table, away from all his other cards which were ready to be deposited in the bin. He then picked up the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that had been sent along with Hermione's letter and hastily opened it. Cautiously, he then picked out a blue coloured bean and placing it on his tongue, he began to nibble at it. Slowly, he let the taste of the bean fill his mouth...blueberry...
"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked in a concerned voice, looking at his injured arm anxiously.
"I'm fine," Ron assured her, "I really am."
"It doesn't look to good," Hermione said, wincing at the blood which showed through his plaster, "Are you sure you don't need to go to Madame Pomfrey?"
"Hermione, it's really okay," said Ron kindly, "I'd rather be resting here than in the Hospital Wing anyway. You're a really good healer you know."
"Thanks," Hermione muttered self-consciously, as a pink tinge rose to her cheeks, "though I really think Madam Pomfrey would do-"
"Hermione, calm down!" Ron exclaimed, "It's just a dragon bite."
Hermione nodded, talking in his statement, "Just a dragon bite," she repeated.
"Hermione, for Merlin's sake," Ron begged, "please, just tell me the answer to the fifteenth question!"
"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione groaned, "however will you manage in your exams? If I tell you each and every answer now, you're sure to fail!"
"Please, Hermione," Ron continued to plead, "if I don't complete this by tomorrow morning, Binns will kill me!"
Hermione sighed, "Look at the question, Ronald," she said, looking over at his homework, "'if one can't apparate inside Hogwarts, how are the apparation tests held inside the castle itself?'"
"I dunno," Ron said, confused.
"Haven't you ever read Hogwarts a History?" Hermione wearily asked him. Ron shook his head.
"For one hour, the charm in the castle which doesn't allow one to apparate is removed. During that time, students are able to practise for their apparation test, with the help of a supervisor." Hermione quoted from her textbook.
"Thanks," Ron told her in a relieved voice, as he scribbled down the answer, "Now...the sixteenth one, please!"
"Ron, please wake up, please!" Hermione whimpered, tears flooding her eyes.
"Ron, please," she continued, shaking him gently, "Harry needs us, Ron, get up!"
"Hermione?" Ron groggily asked, opening his eyes sleepily after a few minutes of repeated shaking, "what happened?"
"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, a smile dawning on her face, "you're- you're alive!"
"Well, yeah!" Ron agreed, "But where's Harry?"
Hermione's relieved look changed into a worried expression, "Ron, he went after him. He's currently battling Snape alone."
"Well, why didn't you go with him," Ron demanded, crossly.
"Ron, only one person could go further," Hermione tried to explain, tears emerging from her eyes, "we had to drink a potion each- one for going on and one for returning the same way. Harry told me to go back to you and get Dumbledore to help him!"
"Merlin," Ron muttered, "we better get going then." Hermione nodded her head apprehensively.
"C'mon," he said, lifting himself up as Hermione gingerly held his left arm for support, "let's go get Dumbledore."
Ron turned over in his bed and yawned slowly, memories of the previous night flooding his mind. Harry...the stone...Snape...He suddenly jerked awake and looked around unsurely.
"Oh, Ron, you're awake!" he heard a voice from his right saying. He turned around to see Hermione sitting up in the hospital bed, reading a book.
"Yeah, what happened? How's Harry?" he asked, sceptical of the answer he was to receive.
Hermione gave him an encouraging smile. "We caught Dumbledore in the nick of time," she explained, "He immediately went to Harry's aid, but as it so happens, Harry did most of the work on his own, just fine. He's still, unconscious, though," she added, indicating a sleeping Harry on the bed beside her.
A surge of relief went through Ron. They were safe. He nodded his head at Hermione and slowly pulled himself out of bed.
"Where're you going?" Hermione questioned, as he strode over to the door.
"Outside," Ron casually replied in a merry voice, we've got a full day ahead if us to be treated like hero's, you know."
"Bye, Ron!" Hermione called, giving him a swift hug as she made her way back to where her parents stood smiling.
"Bye," Ron muttered, staring self-consciously at the floor, his ears turning red, as Fred and George 'oohed' mockingly from behind.
"Is ickle-Ronniekins going to be busy writing letters this summer?" George questioned innocently, as soon as Hermione was out of sight, raising his eyebrows as Ron gave him a glare.
"Sod off," Ron demanded crossly, but immediately fell silent on catching his mother's warning eye.
"Let's just say, we've got a lot of spying to do on our little brother, this summer," Fred commented slyly as they walked up towards their father's Ford Angela.
George nodded his head solemnly in agreement.