A/N: In honor of my triumphant return to high school as well as the glorious one year I've graced FFn with my awesome presence, I decided to write a back-to-school HP fic, before I completely recede due to my workload.

So, in this one the golden trio is facing the harsh reality of going back to Hogwarts (harsh, my ass). Each of them deals with it in different ways. The same scene, as experienced by Ron, Hermione and Harry. (In that order.) Plus, a very special cameo. Set somewhere in Half-Blood Prince.

Disclaimer: I still haven't got my Pottermore email. Rowling, you'd better fucking send it to me, if you want a proper disclaimer.

"Diminuendo. Duro. Epoximise."

Why does she have to do this?

"Engorgio. Reducio."

Is she actually deriving pleasure from this?

"Tergeo. Episkey."

Please, stop!

"Tergeo. Episkey."

"Ahem."

Hermione looks up from her parchment, looking rather bewildered. "What?" she demands in a slightly shrill voice.

"Hi. Hermione? Merlin's beard, we have a full week before school starts, calm down!" Ron Weasley exclaims, clutching a pillow defensively when he sees the look she is giving him. Like he doesn't know her. "I mean," he stammers. "It's not as if you don't already know all that stuff." Too late.

"Honestly, Ronald."

"What? Harry, tell her I'm right!" Ron nudges his best friend, who currently shows no signs of life.

"Is he sleeping?" Hermione suddenly hollers. Harry Potter snores audibly as if he's answering. "Of course he's sleeping," she sounds borderline hysteric now. "He's the Chosen One, what else does he need to do?" The loud sound of his snoring infuriates her even more. "Look at him, he's just lying there, sleeping, while we're..." Ron doesn't get to hear what they're doing, as Hermione angrily stomps out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

That seems to wake up Harry, who sleepily looks around the room, searching for the reason of his sudden awakening.

"Just Hermione," Ron shrugs, as Harry —rubbing eyes and stretching and yawning and all— climbs out of the truckle bed.

"What for?" he half-asks, half-yawns.

"I just teased her for studying."

"Oh."

"Why does she have to remind me of all the studying? And, Merlin, why does she have to study Potions as well? As if I didn't have enough Snape nightmares all summer long."

Harry grimaces in agreement.

"Well, it's not like we're going to avoid seeing him, anyway; we might as well get used to it."

"You're right, you're right... SHIT!"

"Crookshanks, you bad boy, what did you do?" Hermione —where the hell did she come from?— playfully asks her ugly cat; her tone indicates her apparent lack of genuine anger.

"That little shit—" He is cut off by a painful slap from Hermione. "Don't call him that!"

Ron just points the large scar on his arm, to which Hermione simply replies, "It's just a scratch, Ronald. Man up." as she, once again stomps out of the room, holding an overjoyed Crookshanks.

What just happened?

It's August 25, one week before Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger return to Hogwarts, which of course exhilarates one, while terrifying the other. Then, obviously, there is an intermediate state of general nonchalance.

"Diminuendo. Duro. Epoximise."

Harry is oddly quiet today.

"Engorgio. Reducio."

Really, he's not Ron-loud, but still...

"Tergeo. Episkey."

It almost looks as if he is...

"Tergeo. Episkey."

Someone clears their throat.

Hermione looks up from her parchment, where she has carefully written every spell she can recite, with a look of exasperation. "What?" she demands.

"Hi. Hermione? Merlin's beard, we have a full week before school starts, calm down!" Ron exclaims, clutching a pillow to his chest. She glares at him in typical Hermione fashion, causing him to gulp audibly. He quickly backtracks, stammering "I mean, it's not as if you don't already know all that stuff."

Well, of course. But, what is your point?

"Honestly, Ronald." Hermione says rebukingly.

"What? Harry, tell her I'm right!"

Harry shifts on the uncomfortable-looking truckle bed, but doesn't show any signs of giving a hoot.

Is he...? "Is he sleeping?" The sound of Harry snoring answers her question.

"Of course he's sleeping. He's the Chosen One, what else does he need to do?" An edge of hysteria has crept into her voice. Another loud snoring. "Look at him, he's just lying there, sleeping, while we're...," she leaves the room in a haste, clobbering the door behind her, "While I'm studying like a fool! I am a fool! I am a fool for helping these stupid, ungrateful idiots learn something!" She continues to yell mild profanities at the two boys, while Ginny is staring at her in amusement —from the safety of her bedroom, of course.

She remembers Crookshanks. Where is her little brilliant cat?

"SHIT!"

Uh oh.

"Crookshanks, you bad boy, what did you do?"

"That little shit—" Hermione's palm vehemently lands on Ron's cheek. "Don't call him that!" she shrieks.

He looks at her, for a moment, in utter surprise, then raises his arm to reveal a tiny, red scratch.

"It's just a scratch, Ronald. Man up."she says, matter-of-factly, and, once again, stomps out of the room, Crookshanks resting blissfully in her arms.

Ginny's flowing red hair.

Ginny's freckles.

Ginny's eyes.

Ginny's smile.

Ginny's lips.

The loud and disturbing noise of a door slamming shut.

Wait, what?

Harry Potter jumps back into reality and sleepily stares at a redheaded figure sitting on an armchair across from him.

"Just Hermione," Ron's voice simply says.

"What for?" he half-asks, half-yawns.

"I just teased her for studying."

"Oh."

"Why does she have to remind me of all the studying? And, Merlin, why does she have to study Potions as well? As if I didn't have enough Snape nightmares all summer long."

Harry shudders at the mention of the Potions Master's name. It isn't because Severus Snape clearly dislikes the boy —the feelings are most certainly mutual— but because of Harry is certainty that he was a spy for Voldemort. So, he certainly doesn't have any desire to see him again this year. Or any year, as a matter of fact.

"Well, it's not like we're going to avoid seeing him, anyway; we might as well get used to it."

"You're right, you're right... SHIT!"

Harry manages to catch a glimpse of a furry, ginger creature, before it is pulled off Ron by Hermione.

"Crookshanks, you bad boy, what did you do?" she playfully asks, infuriating Ron.

"That little shit—" Slap!

Ouch.

"Don't call him that!" Hermione shrieks.

Ron just points a tiny, red scar on his arm, to which Hermione simply replies, "It's just a scratch, Ronald. Man up." as she, once again stomps out of the room, holding an overjoyed Crookshanks.

They just stare at each other.

The boy shows no signs of remorse.

No, sir! You don't just go scolding people for studying! Especially his girl! Sure, studying keeps Crookshanks from spending more time with her, but it makes her happy, and, thus, Crookshanks is happy.

His ingenious plan has already been put in place.

Before he knows it he has found a place on the boy's arm, leaving a nice, big scar.

"Crookshanks, you bad boy, what did you do?" a musical voice teases him and, soon enough, he is resting in his girl's slender arms.

"That little shit-" His girl hits the boy hard in the face. "Don't call him that!" she shrieks.

The boy dramatically raises his arm showing his scar; Crookshanks is glowing with pride.

"It's just a scratch, Ronald. Man up." Tell him! Hey! Just a scratch?

Oh, well. It's just another victory for Crookshanks. Just another step closer to winning the girl's heart.

Yay for Crookshanks!