I wasn't exactly all too sure where and when it had hit me, but it had all the same. Hard, and fast.

Ron and I had always prized a close bond. Closer, I'd say, than anything I had ever had with Harry. In that way, the trio had usually been uneven and one-sided, yet I was the only third to notice such change.

So there I lay, in bed in the early morning hours, with the same thoughts about Ron and the trio that had been running through my mind for the past two weeks. Sleep was not so simple to achieve these days, seeing as I would go to bed with every intention of forcing thoughts of myself and the blue-eyed redhead into my dreams, concentrating on them a little too hard. I knew that was my problem, but what was I suppose to do about it? I was new at this.

Holding my eyes tightly closed, I rolled over and wished silently as to the time I hoped it would be. I needed more sleep, a lot more sleep. Taking a deep and anxious breath I cracked one eye and glared in the direction of my old analog clock. My glare turned to a look of alarm as I read the hands. 8:45. Classes started in only fifteen minutes and there I was, sleep deprived and extremely panicked.

Throwing my duvet aside as fast as I could, I hopped out of bed in a hurry, failing to realize I was still wrapped in my crimson sheets. My hands instinctively flew out in front of me as I fell, the side of my nose colliding with the corner of my nightstand.

Clutching my face with one hand, I stumbled around my room grabbing my school robes and continued to the dormitory bathroom to change. I had literally thrown the robes over my body, glanced in the mirror to see that my frizzy hair was extremely untidy, and check my large front teeth on how clean they were. I had noticed the fresh scrape down the side of my nose from my fall; there wasn't enough time to even bother with that.

Jogging from the sixth-year dorms, I grabbed my book bag, socks and shoes on the way out, struggling to fit them in their proper places as I broke into a run down the corridor. Obviously Potions just had to be the first class on a day like this.

As I ran through the corridors I gathered my hair in my hands trying to assemble a ponytail. I placed my hair elastic in my teeth so that I would have two hands for the job. Just as I rounded the corner I grabbed the elastic, stretching it with one hand. Suddenly, as I looked up, there was a body right in front of me, facing my way.

Ron.

With a surprised gasp, the elastic flew off my fingers, and right into his eye. I proceeded to then crash into his six-foot-three frame and tumble backwards to the floor with a very unladylike grunt.

I just couldn't get my act together. It was like one disaster after the next- that's exactly what I was, just a walking disaster!

"R-Ron! I'm sorry I didn't see you there, obviously I didn't or else I would have stopped and then not crushed-crashed into you and the elastic- how's your eye?" Now if I'm not the master of smooth I don't know who is. It's like a waterfall of words spill from my mouth whenever I so much as glance at him. It was going to be a long day.

Clutching his eye Ron backed away, and for the first time I noticed Harry laughing a little farther down the hall. Ron rubbed his watering eye and looked upwards to try and get it to stop.

I felt awful. I had almost blinded the man of my dreams, and now without my elastic my hair was flying wild and I looked like an unsalvagable mess on the floor.

Suddenly, Ron smiled, then laughed. "It's alright Hermione I get what's going on."

My heart rammed into my throat. "You do?" How could he know that I was an uncoordinated wreck because of him-

"Sure I do. It's you, 'Mione. You wouldn't be late for a class if your life depended on it!" he gave a laugh again, "Not even Potions." With that, he outstretched his hand and looked at me with his bright blue eyes- more like bright blue eye and red, puffy, runny slit.

As I observed his hand I realized that he meant for me to take it, the only problem was that mine were so sweaty from panic and embarrassment that I would have rather just gotten up myself. With as subtle a motion as possible, I slipped most of my palm into my sweater sleeve, breaking most chances of hand-to-hand contact. I took his hand and with an effortless heave he brought me to my feet.

"You really seem flustered," he began, "you must have been working on that Veela hair essay for Snape all night to get this wound up." Giving a slight chuckle, Ron walked with me the rest of the way to the classroom in the dungeons, slipping his arm around my neck in an unfortunate brotherly fashion.

I had never panicked harder. I had completely forgotten to even start the 'fifeteen uses of Veela hair' essay! I was so worried about fetching Ron's attention that it got to the point where school work obviously wasn't as important. We had had two weeks to work on it, and it was to be worth ten percent of our grade. Of course I just had to neglect this assignment!

The worst part of it all was that with Ron's arm around my shoulder, and his body so close to mine, the fact that I hadn't shower that morning was all I could think about along with the undone assignment.

We entered the dungeon together and took our seats by Harry. Now, the appealing task of begging Professor Snape for an extension, or manifesting a plausible excuse without a deduction of house points or detention was at hand.

Merlin save me!