Hello, people reading this. Just so you know, this is a really short one shot I wrote one day when I was bored out of my mind. Summer is getting really monotonous. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can't wait for school to start!

Disclaimer: I do not own J.K. Rowling's stuff. I would love to, but I don't. :(

This takes place after Ron was splinched going from the Ministry to Grimmlaud Place to the woods the Quidditch World Cup finals took place in. Ron is reletively healed.

"God, I'm bored!" Ron moaned and flopped back onto his bunk, the Slytherin locket thumped hollowly on his breast bone. Hermione looked up from a thick tome, startled. It had been silent in the large tent for nearly an hour. She wrenched herself away from a world of magical theory.

"Well, let's do something, then," Hermione said, ever the practical one. Ron glanced over at her as she slipped a bookmark in the huge volume, setting it on the ground beside her chair. Ron couldn't help but notice how beautiful Hermione's dark bushy hair was in this dim light.

"Like what?" Ron sighed.

"Well, I was thinking…" Hermione gnawed her bottom lip and slowly said, "How about truth or dare?"

"No way!" Ron exploded. "Everyone knows truth or dare is a girl game! Men can't play that!"

"You fancy yourself a man then, do you?" Harry swung down from the upper bunk where he had been dozing moments before.

"Way to kill the mood," Ron muttered to himself so no one else could hear.

"Why not play truth or dare? Are you scared? Oh! Ronnikins is scared to play truth or dare!" Harry mocked, a huge grin across his face.

"Shut up, Harry!" Ron shouted, his face a blisteringly angry red.

"Harry. Be careful. He has the locket. Don't goad him," Hermione said to Harry so Ron couldn't hear.

"Telling secrets, now?" Ron asked, and a menacing smile split his freckled face. Harry slipped out of the room, but all Ron's attention was on Hermione.

"What do you suggest we play?" she asked, ignoring Ron's snide remark.

"We don't have any cards, or chess, or anything…" Harry's voice came from the kitchen where he was rifling through Hermione's small handbag.

"Guess you didn't pack everything, did you?" Ron said nastily.

"Ron… don't," Hermione said quietly, and her face flushed a bright red.

"We've got no choice," Harry said coming back into the room. "Unless you want to read 'The Behavioral Habits of Muggles Living in Urban Areas' by Rhonda Shellerby," he said, holding up a bright yellow paperback book.

"I thought it might be useful if we had to disguise as Muggles," Hermione mumbled, still more red.

Ron snorted. "Hermione, you're MUGGLE-BORN! You don't need a book to know how Muggles act!"

"It's a good read," Hermione said resolutely, holding her chin high, as if daring someone to contradict her.

"Well are we going to play truth or dare or aren't we?" Harry asked.

"Let's play," Ron said, keeping his eyes on Hermione.

"Now he's all for it," Harry muttered to himself. "It must be that blasted locket."

"Harry, you start," Hermione told him.

"Okay… Ron. Truth or dare?" Harry turned to face his cranky best friend.

"Dare."

"Okay. Hmm…" Harry looked upwards and stroked his nonexistent beard. "I dare you… to lick your foot."

"What?" Ron looked at Harry like he was insane.

"I said li—"

"I heard you. Just… What are we? Three year olds? Lick my foot?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Fine. Then lick Hermione's foot," Harry said. Ron plainly wasn't expecting this and looked around wild eyed. "What? You thought I'd have you lick my foot?" Harry laughed.

"Oh second thought, I'll just lick my own foot," Ron said and stuffed his foot in his mouth (literally) before Harry could say anything more.

"How does it taste?" Hermione giggled as Ron spat out his wet toes.

"Terrible," he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "And I think I pulled a muscle doing it," Ron winced, rubbing his buttock. This only caused more laughter from both Hermione and Harry.

"My turn," Ron said, silencing his friends. He looked from Hermione on his left to Harry on his right. "Harry. Truth or dare?"

"Ummm… Truth," Harry said.

"Do you love my sister?" Ron's voice was quiet and even, yet with a cold and almost cruel edge.

"Wha…?" Harry's eyes widened. He was surprised Ron would ask such a direct question, about Ginny nonetheless. And in that tone of voice… "I… I… Yes. I suppose I do," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Yes? You SUPPOSE!" Ron bellowed angrily. "How can you DARE say that! When… when…"

"Ron," Hermione said firmly. "Stop it."

"No! I won't stop it!" Ron shouted and turned on Hermione. "And you! You! Always protecting him!" They were all on their feet.

"Ron!" Harry yelled. "Don't bring her into this!"

"You're being irrational, Ron!" Hermione cried, nearly in tears. "Ron, please! Take off the locket! It's making you say such terrible angry things! Please Ron, please!" she sobbed. Ron turned to face her and she reached around his neck. With shaking hands, Hermione undid the clasp of the locket and let it slide through her fingers. It landed with a dull metallic thud on the worn out Persian rug-covered floor.

Ron began to shake convulsively. Hermione, tears still dripping down her cheeks, took Ron's elbow and led him to his bed. She sat him down and buried her face in his shoulder, sniffling. Ron stared ahead, his mouth slightly agape, and his arm draped over Hermione.

Harry picked up the dropped necklace. Reluctantly he did the clasp around his neck and dropped the heavy locked down his t-shirt. A shiver went down his spine as the cold metal connected with his skin. He glanced back at Ron and Hermione, and he had a sudden urge to jinx Ron. He took a deep breath and told himself it was just the locket making him feel like this. He slipped quietly out of the tent and into the cool night air.

R&R? Pretty Please?