Harry Potter, its characters and concepts are the property of J. K. Rowling. Don't own, don't sue.

In a mess of limbs and miscellaneous body parts, Ron squirmed out from what could only be described as a breach of Hogwart's etiquette policy. Never in his life had the shell-shocked Weasley boy ever contemplated even thinking about the messy things he'd just participated in, or at least, begun to. His hands dripping in sweat, as he hoped to god that's what it was.

"Care to join us?" She had said, flipping her now long, brown hair.

"You're not serious!" Her baffled counterpart had exclaimed. Oh, had he not wanted to spite the over-zealous-bleaching boy, nor impress the girly, for that matter, then... THEN he wouldn't be in this mess.

Hermione had been the one to smile wickedly at him, not Draco obviously. Oh, how she'd changed this past year. Ron had heard from his brother that Seventh Years could be a tad on the devious side, but he'd never figured they'd change so much. Well they hadn't, actually, they being his friendly threesome. THEY hadn't, SHE had. (Friendly, ah ha!) Little miss Granger, prancing about the school grounds, robes completely in a mess – Ron wondered how she managed to keep her grades up like that. No he didn't. He wondered what the hell had just happened!

"Care to join us?"

"You're not serious!"

"Of course I am, Malfoy."

"Um… Sorry?" It was all a blur to poor Ronald Weasley.

Let's see… his robes were in a mess too and his hair was rather ruffled. There had been Hermione, a very nearly unclad Hermione… Hermione Granger, not to be mistaken for another, more covered, Hermione who he'd have expected. No. This was a very nearly fully undressed Hermione – the kind he'd only ever pondered in his post Third Year trips to the men's room. Yes, his friend, Hermione Granger. Naked-ish.

Then there was Draco… wait, Draco! What was that snivelling little cockroach (Oh, his true Hermione…) doing in what he presumed to be his fantasy! He was fairly disrobed also, unfortunately, Slytherin-themed green sheets covering his lower half. Ron, appalled look on face, was torn as to whether he'd preferred to have dreamt it or not. "Bloody hell…" he muttered under his breath.

Where was he, in any case? Ron, growing more confused by the moment, spun around in an attempt to locate himself. "Bloody hell." He repeated, realising that his current location was that of the thankfully empty Slytherin common room. At least, he assumed that's where he was. The room was quite similar to the Gryffindor common room, substituting emblems. That wasn't the point though, how he was supposed to navigate out of what would soon prove to be very dangerous for a lone Gryffindor student was a more pressing issue. Suddenly though, much to the Weasley's alarm and distress, the very nearly unclad, naked-ish Hermione Granger whom he was certain he was acquainted with called from a creaked open door, the familiar green sheets as her only cover.

"Ronald, I just don't understand you!"

Yes, he thought with dismay, this was definitely reality. (Since when did that egg head become the school slut?)

"Understand what?" Ron replied, "And for God's sake, Hermione, put some clothes on!" turning away and covering his eyes.

An offended look falling upon her womanly face, Hermione pulled the sheet tighter around her person. "I don't get," she continued, "what's wrong with you!" Daggers shooting from her eyes, "I know you've had a crush on me since Third Year! Why is it then you don't want to give it go?"

Ron thought about this for a moment. Hang on—

"What- what are you talking about? What's gotten into you!" Glaring through the opened door, Ron continued, "Aside from Malfoy, that is."

Draco, legs sprawled out all over the bed, could appreciate this and shot Ron a wink.

"That's a bit harsh, Ron." She retorted, taken aback, "But you taking your jealousy out on me's nothing new. You know, Draco's had a crush on me for a while now too."

Draco, grinning widely, shook his head, winking yet again at the infuriated Weasley boy.

"You know, Hermione…" Ron sighed, in a weary tone, "For a smart girl you can be really stupid."

She paused.

"You know, Ron…" she replied, cynically, "For a stupid boy you never manage to surprise."

Draco's silent mockery continued, gaping at the impending silence, as pouting became what may as well have been an infectious disease.

Breaking the pause, Hermione scornfully remarked to her red headed counter part, "Perhaps next time I won't drag you into my business then." And with that, she slammed the door, with girlish giggling coming from the Hitler Youth behind her.

It was days like this Ronald wished he'd never gotten out of bed, so to speak.