Ron and Harry sat in the deserted common room playing wizard's chess on a Saturday afternoon. They played lazily, receiving constant criticism from the pieces, who appeared to be on top of their game at the moment. Just as Harry's remaining knight refused to move to where he was directed, Ginny strolled down from her dormitory. Harry realized that he was watching her progress only when Ron's voice interrupted him.

"What're you looking at?" Ron turned to observe the common room, only to see Ginny leaving it.

"Er, fanged Frisbee, it, er- it went out the portrait hole with Ginny, though," said Harry, thinking fast.

"Who threw it?" Ron turned even further in his seat.

"No- no idea, I think it was bewitched, or something." Harry made to hastily move his queen, to which she objected loudly, and Ron looked for a few more seconds before shrugging and returning to the game.

Harry sighed inwardly; the last thing he wanted was for Ron to notice Harry's sudden fascination with the youngest Weasley. And sudden was the only word Harry could ever find to describe it; when did she become so beautiful? And when did she learn to give those smoldering glances and flirty smiles he was sure she was giving him? However, sure as he was, he still hadn't been able to voice these thoughts, not to her, and definitely not to Ron.

"—do you think?"

"Sorry?" Harry tore his thoughts back to the scene before him.

"Hermione? Where'd she go off to?"

"Oh, where does she always go? The library, probably."

"Oh, yeah," Ron moved his bishop much more carelessly than he normally would have, "you know, she ought to just move her bed down there, she spends enough time in it." Ron paused for a moment before asking "Are you sure she's in the library? She's not with that seventh year, is she? You know, the idiot?"

"I don't think she's with, er, that guy, no."

"You mean idiot, all he has is…big shoulders and …his stupid smile, I'll bet he's, he's…. And his hair, did you see?" Ron's face turned pink as his sentences became more disjointed. "She thinks he's…but I'll bet, he probably didn't even…no, he couldn't've …he probably just, just…I mean, what does she see in him, honestly?" Ron ended with an indignant snort, as if everything he said had made perfect sense.

"'Honestly'? Since when do you say 'honestly'?" Harry inquired, surprised to see Ron assuming the traits that he'd always said bug him most about Hermione.

"Well, I mean it's bloody obvious! He's using her! I've seen him…shifty eyes… you know what? I'll bet you he's the one who bewitched that Frisbee! You said it was chasing Ginny?" Ron rose from his chair.

"No! No, it just, went out at the same time as her, it wasn't, er, following her, or anything."

"Oh," said Ron, returning to his seat, "well I still say he's up to no good! He's probably the one who let off those dungbombs in the common room last week! Yeah, I'll bet it was, I'll bet he was downstairs having a good old laugh while the rest of us innocent byst—"

"Ron, that was you."

"What?"

"You set those dungbombs off."

"Oh, I don't remember tell— well, anyway, I say he's shifty!"

"Ron, why don't you just tell Hermione how you feel already?"

"What?" Ron spluttered, knocking over the chess table with an involuntary jerk of his arm, "I don't fancy her! I'm her friend! I just think that, as her friend, I should be able to, to look out for her, and…he's the type of bloke…I mean, he's not really her type…not that I know her type…I'm her friend!"

"That's what I meant," Harry amended, frowning slightly, "you should tell her that you don't think he's a good choice for her. She'll understand, you're her friend, after all."

"Oh," Ron murmured, ears shining brighter than the scarlet tapestry behind him, "oh, right. Yeah, I think I'll do that then." He quickly bent down to pick up the pieces he dropped, taking much longer than necessary, and when he returned to the table his ears had improved so that they only bore a slight resemblance to a beet. Unable to determine where their pieces were before, and lacking any real enthusiasm for the game anyway, they started over.

"There you guys are," Hermione strode up to them, looking as if she's been outside all day, "I meant to tell you I'd be with Brian all morning, but I couldn't find you."

Ron snorted angrily when she said Brian, as if it were a name only given to the scummiest of men.

"Anyway," she continued, "I just came to grab my cloak, it's beginning to get cold out there."

"You're going to spend more time with him?" Ron asked while slamming down his rook with unneeded force.

"Oh no," Hermione added quickly, "no, I've gotten sick of him. No, I'm spending time with Darren tonight." She turned towards the portrait hole and waved at a blond seventh year who looked only slightly more muscular than Brian. Ron, who had looked fleetingly happy only a second before, stood up so fast that he upended the chess board once more. Hermione went up the stairs to her dormitory leaving Ron to pick up the chess pieces, who were now running away from his hand, angry at being launched so often. He finally got everything set up again just as Hermione reemerged from her dormitory and headed out of the common room with Darren.

Ron gestured towards Harry, as if telling him to make a move, but he just stared at Ron instead. Ron avoided his gaze for as long as possible before….

"Alright, alright, I'll tell her." Ron rose from his chair and headed towards the portrait hole.

Harry wondered whether or not Ron would tell Hermione the real reason he was so agitated by her seeing other guys, and not just the lame reason Harry gave him about 'being friends.' However, Harry soon found his thoughts straying elsewhere, because as soon as one Weasley climbed out of the portrait hole, another climbed in, now clutching a library book in her hand. The monster in his chest shouted the same suggestions as always, which Harry usually ignored by convincing himself that there was no way she felt the same way as him. However tonight the monster seemed to be making a lot more sense; after all, if Ron could do it, he could, right? He stood up before the surge of bravery left him and walked over to the couch Ginny had just sat in, his insides squirming uncomfortably. He sat down beside her and she smiled up at him.

He suddenly felt more confident than he had in a long time.