Disclaimer: I don't own any of the character in this story, they are the property of J.K. Rowling. Yeah, if I owned these characters, I probably wouldn't be writing fanfic about them, I'd be making millions of dollars on the books I could write about them. Enough said.

Author's Note: This is my first Harry Potter fic, so feel free to flame or cheer, it doesn't matter as long as you review. This fic could take a while to finish because of the subject matter, but be patient and I will update as soon as I can.

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Obliviate!

"Mum! Where is my blue jumper?"

The tall, lanky figure of 15 year-old Ron Weasley bounded down the stairs of his house, The Burrow. He was searching for his witch mother, whom he was hoping could find out where his favourite jumper was to be found. He was hoping that the twins, Fred and George, hadn't procured it for one of their jokes.

"MUM!"

"What it is, Ron? I swear they can hear you in Azkaban!" Ron's mother, a small, plump witch with a kind face but an ugly temper, emerged from the kitchen with her wand in hand.

"Where is my blue jumper?" Ron asked hurriedly, distracted by the clock on the wall behind his mother. Fred, George and his younger sister Ginny were at home, but his father was still at work.

Mrs. Weasley gave an annoyed sort of snort, then rushed back into the kitchen. "How am I supposed to know where it is, Ron? It's your jumper, you should take better care of it. I can't keep track of everything you boys own."

"But-"

"Oh, go and ask Ginny. It was her turn to do the washing today."

"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?" Ron replied angrily, as he went in search for the youngest Weasley.

He bounded up the stairs and stopped at Ginny's room. He knocked on the door and, hearing a noise of assent, walked in.

Ginny jumped at the sound, then hastily shoved something under her pillow. "What do you want?"

"What are you hiding, Gin?" He smirked at the look on her face.

She went pale, making her freckles stand out even more on her face. "Nothing." She squeaked. "Either tell me what you want or get out!" She cried, a look of panic crossing her face.

"Oo, has Ickle Ronnikins upset our sister again?"

Ron groaned, then turned around to see the twin's smiling faces.

"Heard from your girlfriend lately, Ronnikins?"

"She's not my girlfriend!" Ron said through gritted teeth. Fred and George had been asking the same question the whole summer. Ron was glad there was only three weeks left of summer holidays, as he wouldn't have to spend every waking minute with the twins and their teasing.

It also meant seeing his two best friends again. He had heard from Harry a few times, asking him when they were going to meet in Diagon Alley to pick up their school supplies. Harry also asked Ron about Hermione, annoying Ron to no end. Harry seemed to have this silly idea that Ron had a crush on Hermione, something that Ron denied vehemently, and, even if he did, he wouldn't admit to it anyway.

Unfortunately, over the four years of knowing Hermione, Ron had discovered that he liked her as more than a friend. She was smart, pretty and was a great friend, whenever they weren't fighting. There were instances when Ron thought that Hermione liked him as well, such as the whole incident of the Yule Ball the previous year. He had gotten quite jealous over Hermione's date, Viktor Krum. They had fought about it, then, as the year went on, Ron had gotten some attention from Fleur Delacour, an attractive foreign student. He had thought that Hermione was jealous of this attention, but realized that this assumption couldn't possibly be correct.

Ron had convinced himself unworthy of Hermione's attention. What would she see in him anyway? He was a poor, clumsy, red-haired freckleface with no intelligence whatsoever. He had resigned himself to loving her from afar and never telling anyone of the feelings he held for the bushy-haired girl.

"Ron, you have an owl." He heard his mother call from downstairs.

He turned back to Ginny, ignoring the twins. "Where is my blue jumper?"

"It's on your bed."

"What? When did you put it there?"

"Ten minutes ago. You were downstairs."

Ron let out a frustrated cry and went to his room, discovering the jumper neatly folded on his bed.

"RON! YOUR OWL!" His mother's cries were more urgent.

He went downstairs and saw a gray Screech owl sitting in the kitchen window. He reached out to grab the letter attached to its leg, then gave it a small biscuit as a way of thanks. It ate it quickly, then took off.

"Who's it from, dear?"

Ron turned the letter over and saw Hermione's tidy writing on the front of the envelope. He opened the letter and read:

Dear Ron,

It sounds like the twins are giving you quite a holiday. If it gets really bad, you're welcome to stay here for a few days. We can go to Diagon Alley together and meet Harry there. I'm sure your father can arrange for my fireplace to be attached to the Floo network. Write me back quickly if you want to come.

No, I haven't heard from Viktor (not Vicky!). My visit to Bulgaria wasn't as great as I thought it would be. His parents were nice enough, but the girls in his town were horrible to me. They called me all sorts of names that I don't want to repeat here. I was glad to get home to my parents and the letters you and Harry had sent in my absence.

If you can't come visit me, I hope the rest of your summer is great.

Love Hermione

Ron grinned upon finishing the letter. She hadn't heard from Krum. What a prat! He invited her to stay in Bulgaria, obviously didn't defend her when she was insulted, and failed to write her after she left. If I had a girl like her, Ron thought…

"Mum, can I stay at Hermione's for a few days?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled at her son. She knew Ron had a crush on Hermione… mother's instinct. "Of course you can, dear. Write her and we'll talk to your father when he gets home."

Ron found a quill and some parchment and wrote a reply.

Dear Hermione,

I warned you about Krum. At least his parents were nice.

I'd love to come stay with you. Fred and George are driving me bonkers! They bewitched my bed to throw me off whenever I snore too loudly. Been woken up every night since then. How's Thursday? I think that will be enough time for my dad to fix up everything.

Love Ron

He wasn't sure about the signature, but figured she would be comfortable with it since she had signed the same way.

He grabbed his owl, Pigwidgeon, and attached the letter. Then he went to the window and threw the small owl into the air, watching as Pig flew off into the sky.

****

The reply was quick and to the point:

Dear Ron

Thursday is great. I'll see you then.

Love Hermione

Ron's father had arranged through the Ministry of Magic for the Granger's household to be connected to the Floo network on Thursday morning.

Wednesday came and went. Ron hurriedly packed that night, throwing things in his trunk and worrying over what he would say to her when he arrived.

"Don't worry Ron, I'm sure she won't notice that great spot on your forehead." Fred and George howled with laughter as Ron rushed to the mirror to check his appearance.

"Oh, get out of it." Ron muttered, sitting on his trunk in order to shut the clasps.

"Better get a good night's sleep, Ron…"

"… Don't want to be tired for your meeting with your girlfriend."

Ron pushed them out of his room, ignoring their bellows of laughter. He checked the time. In less than 12 hours, he would be seeing Hermione. His stomach did a little flip and he felt his pulse start to race.

Oh boy, if this is how he felt now, he hated to think of how he would feel when he saw her the next morning.

****

"Everything all set, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley held out the pot of Floo powder and Ron, who was standing in the fireplace with his trunk, took a handful. "Have a good time, dear. Say hello to Hermione and her parents for us."

As Ron opened his mouth to state his destination, Fred and George handed him a bunch of flowers.

"They're for Hermione, you git." George said when he saw the look on Ron's face.

Ron shrugged, then began to say Hermione's address… when he felt an itch in his nose. He suddenly sneezed and let go of the Floo powder in his hands.

The Burrow and his family disappeared in a rush of colour as he spun around, whizzing by grate after grate. Where was he going to end up? He didn't know a sneeze could actually sound like a name or a destination, but he figured he would soon find out.

Ron felt himself slowing down and threw out his arms to stop from falling on his face. He looked out from the fireplace and felt his jaw drop.

In front of him were no less than 40 wizards in black cloaks and masks, bending over a collection of plans. He had seen a few of them before… that terrible night at the Quidditch World Cup where the Dark Mark appeared in the sky, sending terror into everyone's hearts.

They were Death Eaters. They were discussing a plan to take over Hogwarts and kill Dumbledore, from what Ron could hear. He caught a remark on how the school was heavily guarded, so they would need someone to pose as the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. The dust from the fireplace added to the discomfort that Ron was experiencing in trying to stifle his sneezes. He crinkled his nose and closed his eyes, but failed. He let out a loud sneeze, then slowly opened his eyes. The Death Eaters turned as one to look at the intruder, and Ron noticed a boy about his age among them. He had white blond hair sleeked back and a pointy face.

"Weasley!" He shouted.

Ron just stood there gaping until one of the Death Eaters spoke. It was Lucius Malfoy.

"What do propose we do to this intruder, my Lord?"

Another voice answered Lucius' inquiry. It was cold and high-pitched, sending a shiver down Ron's spine. He knew who owned this voice, even though he had never laid eyes on him.

"He has seen our plans… Kill him."

Ron shut his eyes tightly, wishing he had the foresight to put his wand in his robes rather than pack it in his trunk.

The Death Eaters raised their wands…

"Wait. He's Potter's best friend. If we kill him, Potter will know something is up." Draco Malfoy's voice rang out from behind the standing wizards.

Voldemort seemed to think for a moment, then sighed deeply. "A very good observation, Draco. You have a very bright son, Lucius."

Ron found his voice. "You're all bonkers! There's no way Dumbledore would give up Hogwarts! You're all barking mad, I tell you!"

"Is that so?"

A tall, thin figure rose from a chair near the far wall and approached the fireplace. His face was pale and flat, with flashing red eyes and a thin mouth.

"It's too bad Harry Potter's best friend won't be able to remember the Boy Who Lived… or who he himself is for that matter."

Ron gulped as Voldemort raised his wand. "N-n-no. Please…"

A sharp hiss cut through the tense silence.

"Obliviate!"