"Do you think we should wake him?" Hermione asked quietly to Ron as he finished the last bite of his peppermint cream toad with a satisfied sigh. It was nearly lunchtime and although they were waiting for Harry to wake before they went to lunch, Ron couldn't deny the fact that this particular peppermint cream toad was just waiting to be eaten.
So he did.
"I dunno," he answered, suddenly grinning. "I can already feel it jumping!"
"Ron, for once, please be serious" Hermione said, rubbing her temple. "What if Harry's gone and worried himself sick over Sirius Black being his… you know… Godfather?" She looked up from her book to see Ron's expression of… amusement.
"I doubt that," he said with a laugh. "You worry too much about us 'Mione. Were thirteen-year-old boys. We know how to take care of ourselves, especially Harry. You're acting like a-"
"Like a what Ronald?" She said sternly, cutting him off.
"Like a mother, 'Mione. And we don't need one. Not now."
"'We don't need one' he says. Ha! What a laugh! Do you know how many scrapes that you two have gotten yourselves into that I saved you from? Homework? Where would you be without me?"
"Nowhere 'Mione" he said with an exasperated sigh.
"Will you stop that!" She yelled, slamming down her book on the side table next to the sofa with a loud 'thud.'
"Stop what?"
"Calling me 'Mione'. My name is Hermione, please get it correct! We've been friends for what, three bloody years and you still don't know my name! I highly doubt you know my gender!"
"I know your name!" He retorted. "Its just Harry calls you 'Mione' and you've never said a word about it and suddenly its breaking a school rule to call you 'Mione!"
"Well Harry's different, he's saved the wizarding world from evil three separate times and he's not the least bit conceited or stuck-up, or rude, like some people here."
"If you're going to say something about me, say it to my face 'Mione!"
"Fine! Most of the time you are so rude you make Peeves look friendly!"
"Oh yeah, well… most of the time people walk right past you because they think you are a book, bookworm!"
"Frogs entrails!"
"Rat hater!"
"Muggle port-o-potty!"
"What?"
"What what?"
"What's a muggle port-o-potter?"
"Potty, and it's a make-shaft lavatory outside. For workers and big fairs and things."
"Oh, well that was just mean."
"Well, I'm not a rat hater. Scabbers was just, to unhygienic to be very close to my heart."
"But you like him, don't you?" She knew what he was getting at, trying to get him to say whom she fancied. She couldn't say much to him, of all people, but most of the girls upstairs knew, but didn't tell.
"Like him? Like who? You-know-who? I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about Ronald." Ron had to stifle a laugh; he loved her even more when she was all flustered and unorganized, though it happened rarely, it was a treat.
"Well then who do you fancy?"
"Who do I fancy?" She repeated the question as though outraged, but then, her expression softened, and she looked Ron in the eyes.
"Who do I fancy? Well, he's very handsome, and kind, when he wants to be, mind you. And he's got fair skin and… well…"She paused, thinking as Ron scotched a few inched closer.
"And…"
"And he's not you, you weasel!" She picked up her book and got up, sitting in a chair a few seats away from Ron. "I can't believe you sometimes, Ronald." She whispered, outraged.
"Well then, shouldn't we go wake Harry?" he said, trying to regain his confidence as Hermione tried to read. She looked up.
"Yes, well I guess we should," she said, closing her book. "Lets go wake Harry."