It was very late. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, surprisingly enough, were returning from the library. Since Hermione had refused to help them with any more papers, they had a lot of studying to do. Harry was thinking of how happy he was to be finished; he had not seen Ginny all day. Ron, on the other hand, found himself wishing that Lavender had already gone to bed, a sentiment he did not completely understand. They walked companionably in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. All of a sudden they heard a cry and a group of muffled voices.

"What's all that do you think?" asked Ron.

"I'm not sure, you want to go check it out?" Harry replied.

"Sure."

They turned down a corridor towards where the noise was coming from. They found Crabbe and Goyle kicking what looked to be a helpless first or second year Ravenclaw boy. Draco Malfoy stood close by, not participating, but not intervening either.

"Oi, what do you think you're doing?" Harry asked.

Malfoy looked over; there was malice in his eyes. "Stay out of this Potter, this is prefect business, and sadly Dumbledore didn't choose his pet did he?" He laughed.

"Well I am a prefect, and what you're doing goes against everything in the handbook." Ron stepped in.

"How could I have forgotten the handbook? Look, Timmins here is being punished. I took points away, but it doesn't seem to have done the trick."

"What could this boy possibly have done to you?" Harry asked.

"Well you see Potter, not all of us have a mudblood slave to do our work for us." He laughed when he saw both Harry and Ron prickle. "I asked Timmins to do my Charms essay for me, and I only got an A when I told him specifically that I wanted an O."

"What do you expect when you have a first year student do sixth year work?" Ron asked.

"Actually, I'm in second year." The small blond boy squeaked.

"See, he's in second year. Besides I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be clever and all that." Draco laughed.

"Blimey mate, I was trying to help you out, know when to stay quiet." Ron looked at the young boy pityingly.

"Enough is enough. I'm going to talk to McGonagall about this." Harry said.

"You would, wouldn't you Potter, always the teachers' pet, never fighting your own battles."

Harry's temper got the better of him. "I could beat you any day Malfoy, just tell me where and when."

"Now, now, lets try to keep things under control." Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You're the same Weasley, you can't win either. You let so many quaffles in, the Gryffindor team would do better to leave the hoops open."

"I could block any quaffle you throw at me, your arm is so weak."

"Care to put your confidence to the test?"

"Anytime." Ron's skin was turning red and his eyes were blazing.

"What happened to keeping things under control?" Harry asked.

They both ignored him.

"Tomorrow at eight on the pitch?" Malfoy asked.

"I'll be there!"

"Care to make things interesting?" Malfoy asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

"A wager. If you win, I'll announce to the whole school that you and Potter are the best wizards in the world, and even kiss your feet if you want."

"And if you win?" Ron asked.

"Let's see, what do I want? How about a night of passion with Lavender?"

Ron bristled. "You're mental!"

"No? What about you Potter? Do you have faith in your best friend? Care to wager a night with your girlfriend? I've always had a fondness for redheads."

"If you so much as look at Ginny, I'll…" Harry reached for his wand.

Ron stopped him, "Stay away from my sister Malfoy."

"OK, OK, I've got it, if I win, Granger has to write my next essay for me."

"Done." Ron said quickly.

"Excellent, see you tomorrow. C'mon, I think Timmins has learned his lesson." The three Slytherins laughed and ran down the corridor.

After they had helped Timmins to the Ravenclaw common room. Harry looked at Ron.

"I don't think you should have been so quick to bet Hermione's services. She's not going to like it."

"Why not? She likes school. She'll enjoy writing another essay."

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"What do you mean you wagered me in a bet with Malfoy?" Hermione yelled. Her bushy brown hair was escaping her ponytail and falling around her face.

"Hermione, relax. I didn't wager you, just your writing skills. You make it sound like I prostituted you or something."

"Well first of all, I'm not chattel for you to barter with Ronald. Second, you know how cruel he has been to me and how much I loathe him. The fact that you still put me in this position makes me realise how little you care for me or my feelings." She turned and ran upstairs. Ron swore he saw tears in her eyes. He looked at Harry and shrugged.

"I told you." Harry said.

"Yeah, too bad magical bets are binding eh?"

"I'm not sure why we make everything binding. It makes things so complicated."
"No matter, because I'm going to win." Ron smiled.

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"RONALD, YOU DIDN'T SAVE ONE GOAL!"

Everyone in the common room looked up as the trio came in, Hermione yelling at the top of her lungs.

"Hermione, please calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. I don't know much about quidditch, but I think Harry should fire you!"

Ron looked at Harry panic stricken.

"Don't worry, I can't fire you, since it wasn't an official match, but play like that against Hufflepuff next week and I might."

"It figures you'd be on her side."

"I'm not on anyone's side. But you were pretty awful, and now she does have to go 'serve' Malfoy."

"Don't worry about that he's probably forgotten."

As the words left his mouth an owl tapped on the window. When someone let him in he flew over to Hermione. She took the letter out of its beak and opened it. She scowled as she read it.

"He hasn't forgotten. I'm to meet him in the dungeons tomorrow at seven."

Before either of them could respond she ran upstairs again.

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Hermione threw herself on her bed and began to cry. Why am I being so emotional? It's just an essay after all. No big deal. But it's his essay, that loathsome, cruel, incorrigible, atrocious, annoying, very attractive git!