-1A/N: I have been watching the TV show House, M.D. lately. By lately, I mean that my wonderful roomie has every episode from seasons one through four on DVD. Righteous. Downside? This is why I haven't been writing at all. I was struck with this idea. It may just be a one-shot. It may also be a very long story.

Please read and review, but most importantly, please enjoy.

Three Is The Loneliest Number

Chapter 1:

The grounds of Hogwarts were as beautiful as ever. The sky was such a clear, striking blue, and the impressive figure of the castle against the majestic mountains created a magnificent scene, playing our right before Ron Weasley's eyes--complete with twittering birds and the occasional purring puffskein. The sublime sight mocked him and his current plight--complete with a adultery and blatant lies.

Moments before arriving at the gates of Hogwarts, he had kissed his girlfriend good-bye, telling her that he would be gone for at least two hours--a lie of his own to tell her. Kingsley, to her knowledge, had called him in for catch-up on the paperwork revolving around the capture of two young men that had attacked a Muggle woman. Hermione knew that this was a particularly nasty case, or at least, Ron hoped she did, for this would give her the notion that he may be away from their flat for awhile. In turn, this notion would give way to her being alone. When she was alone…

Ron never had caught her with her lover, although there were tell-tale signs that Hermione had more than just a school-girl crush on someone that she knew. The poorly-concealed hickeys upon her neck were just one of the multitude of physical signs that he witnessed in the past month. Just this Saturday, she had come back from the school for summer holiday, her lips nearly purple, as if she had just braved a raging snowstorm. The problem was that the temperature was at least seventy degrees, and the wind was as calm as it could be. Purpled lips could mean that she got into a fistfight and took one to the face… or, it could mean that she had been…

Ron never could bring himself to confront her about it. There were times, at first, that he thought he actually had given the hickeys. However, when he consciously tried to give her a love-bite one night, she had vehemently exclaimed, "Ronald, you know how much I hate that. You're acting like a vampire." With that, she rolled away from him. That night, Ron almost couldn't bear sleeping in the same bed with her; it would be hard for anyone to sleep next to who they thought was the love of their life, knowing that they had been with another man.

Eventually, he had resigned to the fact that his Hermione, the innocuous girl that he had known throughout his childhood, his sweetheart, was no longer satisfied with all that he gave her, all of the love that he had. And so, this lead him to a three-week long investigation; his only accomplice was his best friend.

Harry refused to believe that Hermione would ever consciously cheat on him, but she did not see the purpled lips or the nearly black hickeys that were upon her otherwise unblemished skin. All the same, he agreed to help tail her while she was away teaching at Hogwarts. They had a house elf tail her as best as he could around wherever she went during those last three weeks of school. The house elf initially reported that she was going to Hogsmeade quite a lot, and Ron had initially thought that she was meeting her lover there. At one point, he Apparated to Hogsmeade, desiring to catch her in the act with the other man, or at least confront them together. However, when he did spot her, she was only going into the apothecary alone. He had stayed until she had come out of the store before going to see her. She actually looked pleased to see Ron, admitting to him that she often frequented the apothecary to buy necessary things for her latest experiment, as Snape would not usually let her use his own stores.

For some reason, this gave Ron a feeling of ease. Perhaps, he was mistaken, and those hickeys were not really hickeys at all. And the purpling lips? Yes, perhaps she takes one of those women's kickboxing classes, and sometimes, at least every weekend, she gets kicked in the face and neck, for that would explain the hideous hickeys.

Harry eventually informed Ron, after a night of heavy drinking and drowning one's sorrows in the sauce, that she probably wasn't getting hit in the face every weekend. In fact, he was now swayed that she was cheating on him, indefinitely.

"What?" spluttered Ron, mead dripping from his lips and onto his sweater. "But it was you didn't think she'd have the guts to--"

Harry clapped his friend on his back saying, "I know, I never thought she would have the audacity--"

"Audaci-what?" hiccupped Ron, taking another swig of his drink. "Do you have proof?" He eyed his best friend, who had stayed mute after he asked his question. His eyes, however, betrayed him ever so slightly as their gaze moved to his hand, which was grasped around something small and glass. Ron thrust out his hand, grabbing Harry's, saying, "Give that here! If it's proof, I should see it!"

"Ron, not here, this isn't the place!" cried Harry as they struggled. Ron, being the stronger of the two, however, won out. Still his grip was not steady enough, and the small vial tumbled to the floor, crashing. Smoke and mist billowed from the tiny container, and suddenly, the shrill voice of the Hogwarts house elf named Jilly rang throughout the bar.

"Master Harry," bowed the young elf, "Jilly has found something that Master Ronald was searching for… Proof that the Transfiguration teacher is with that man!"

Ron surged towards the misty memory's figure, his hands clasped over his ears and running into his hair. In an agonizing tone, he asked the elf that did not hear him, "What man? I never was specific about a man! Harry, who did you make her follow?!" He turned to Harry, who had his head in his hands now.

"I… had my suspicions after I had Ginny talk to her last Saturday," he said, before being cut off by the elf out of Harry's memory.

"..and Jilly saw her enter his laboratory. She did this often… she makes experiments with him at night sometimes…"

"Experiments?!" shrieked Ron, drunkenly falling to his knees in front of the elf. "Is that a code word for shagging him?!"

The house elf continued, unphased, saying, "…but this time, she did not bring her tools… she wore a dress without robes… "

Ron was beside himself now with anger and sadness. He thrust his hand out towards the elf, as if to grasp it, but it just went through the image as it kept talking, "And then, he called for a bottle of his aged elf-made wine, for the young lady, he said. Before I left, I heard her say, "Severus, you can cut the foreplay and--"

Ron punched out at the misted elf and hit the stool that lay directly behind where "she" was standing, still muttering about the elf-made wine and other things that she had witnessed concealed behind a tapestry. His face was ghastly grey and looked as if he was about to vomit. He looked up at Harry, muttering one word with a growl, "Snape?"

And so, Ron had resolved still not to confront Hermione about her flings with the Potions professor. Instead, he would go straight to the source of corruption. He stood in front of the gates to Hogwarts, waiting for Argus Filch to allow him passage into the office of the man that was truly getting the best of him--his girlfriend.