The Bet

Just another boring day in Charms. Professor Flitwick was chatting on about how to make lamps dance across tables or something like that; nobody was really listening anyway. The one acception was Hermione, of course. Nothing could distract her away from a lesson. Not even the beautiful shining emerald eyes of Harry Potter. But how could someone's eyes attract the attention of Hermione when she was scribbling away on her parchment taking notes of proper wand movements? Especially eyes like Harry's. It's not like she hasn't seen them before. She sees them every day! Some people wish she would notice them, though. It was common knowledge that everyone who ever gave Harry or Hermione a second thought wished they would become more than just friends. They couldn't do that, though. Of course not! That would be like being attracted to your sibling. Nope, as far as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were concerned, they would stay friends- just friends- forever.

·~··~··~·

After 20 minutes of constent writing, Hermione's hand was getting tired. Maybe she would take just a short break for a minute. She dropped her quill in the ink bottle and stretched her fingers. Then she rested her head on her hand and gazed out the window. In her line of sight, Ron's red hair and freckled face was in the way. His hand was also supporting his head, but his mouth was open and his eyelids drooping. Hermione smiled in her head. Ron looked sort of cute when he's tired.

Hermione came out of her daze and shook her head. Had she just thought of Ron as 'cute'? She couldn't have. This was Ron she was talking about. Ron Weasley. No, it was just a crazy thought that popped into her head. But if it just popped up, how come it wouldn't just pop out? Why was she still thinking about his silly face or the way he looked so innocent? Why?

Because you're bored out of your mind, that's why, she thought. Nothing more than that. Just forget it. Now, if the lamp you are enchanting is a floor lamp...

·~··~··~·

"Queen to C-4," Harry said to the tiny army of chess pieces. The stone Queen moved ahead one space on the board.

George rubbed his chin for a second. Then he smiled a very smug smile.

"Knight to D-11. Checkmate, Harry," he said superiorly.

Harry hung his head in shame. George had beaten him for the third time in a row.

"Give it up, Harry. I'm going to bed anyway," George yawned.

"Me too," Fred said as he rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. "You two coming?" He turned to the couch where Hermione and Ron were sitting.

"Aww, they look so cute together," George said sweetly. Ron had fallen asleep with his hand supporting his head, just like in Charms. Only this time, Hermione was leaning against his shoulder, also fast asleep and looking very comfortable.

"They would be so cute together," Fred said honestly as he sorted the chess pieces.

"What do you mean, together?" Harry said with a smile, guessing the answer.

"Oh, Harry. You know perfectly well what I mean," Fred responded sneakily. "And don't you agree with me?"

"No," Harry responded definatly. But he still couldn't help to smile. The twins were right. They did make an awfully nice couple, but then again it was Ron and Hermione, who would rather eat bubotuber pus, swallow a dungbomb, and run around the school in their underwear than even consider going out on a date. That's just the way it was, and always would be.

"Well, can't blame a bloke for having an imagination. Just picture it. Mrs. Hermione Weasley. Better yet, 'You are invited to the wedding of Miss Hermione Granger and Mr. Ronniekins Weasley'. Kinda has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" Fred prodded.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Stop talking crazy."

"Yeah, Fred. Everyone knows Hermione will end up with Harry some day," George said.

Harry turned beet red. "Now that's crazy. How many times do I have to tell people? We-are-just-friends!"

The twins couldn't stop now, though. They were on a role.

"Which is nicer? Mrs. Hermione Potter or Mrs. Hermione Weasley? Harry and Hermione cordially invite you or Ronald and Hermione cordially invite you?"

"Oh, shut up," Harry yawned as he ascended the staircase.

·~··~··~·

"Seriously, though. They do look nice together," Fred said as he put on his pajamas.

"Yeah. And I think Harry might like her, too," George told his twin.

Fred looked at George with a puzzled face. "I was talking about Ron."

"Ron? Ha! Like he would ever get a girlfriend!" George said casually.

"I don't know. I can just picture Hermione with him more than Harry."

"No way. I bet Harry admits he likes her before Ron even realized she's a girl," George said.

"Care to make it interesting, then?" Fred's eyebrows went up as he spoke.

"What do you mean, old brother of mine?" George asked slyly.

"I mean a bet."

"A bet?"

"On who gets together first; Ron and Hermione or Harry and Hermione."

"Are you serious?" George responded skeptically. "They're all late bloomers. We'll have this bet for years!"

"Not if we help just a bit," Fred said. "Come on, what do you say?"

"I say you're on! What are we betting?"

"How about... all of the money under your mattress," Fred said innocently.

"What!? That must be 50 Galleons!"

"I have about that in my hidden underwear drawer."

"Good hiding place. No one will ever look there," George said under his breath.

"So it's a deal?" Fred held out his hand.

George moved his lips to one side of his mouth; a sign that he was thinking hard. Then he took his brother's hand.

"Deal!"

Personally, I don't think this is as good as my first story. The only reason I'm writing this one is because I'm stuck on what to write next for chapter 5! I left off in the worst situation. (If you haven't read it yet I suggest you do if you like Ron/Hermione fics:) I'm extremely tired right now, so if this sounds totally stupid, please forgive me. I think I'm sleep-writing.