Untitled Document Hermione Granger stood in the middle of Diagon Alley, tapping her foot impatiently on the smooth cobblestone streets. She checked her watch every minute or so, sighing as she folded her arms into an annoyed stance. It was a lovely late August. The sky was clear blue and filled with fluffy clouds that gradually changed colors from a cotton candy pink to a sparkling sapphire blue
to a deep forest green, the color of her friend Harry Potter's eyes.


However, the one person she was supposed to be meeting wasn't there at the specified time of 1:30 PM.

"Ron Weasley, where *are* you?" muttered the no longer frizzy haired girl of 15. She was to be Ron's summer tutor, even although there wasn't much summer left.

Ron Weasley had not done so well on his final exams during his fourth year. His mother, Mrs. Weasley, had received the owl post from Hogwarts, even though he had desperately tried to summon it to himself from his upstairs window. Yet, he really hadn't gotten the hang of that one on his Charms exams, and so Mrs. Weasley had opened it.

One look at the cream colored paper was all it took to make her yell.

Fred and George, his older twin brothers, had come downstairs for a snack (they ate a lot these days), and found Mrs. Weasley practically fuming at the ears.

"Get. Your. Brother," she had ordered at the two, knowing they were hiding behind the worn door.

After that, Ron himself had to call Hermione and ask her to help him catch up on everything they had learned. He was very unhappy when she had exclaimed happily that she'd be "pleased to study with you," and from then on, they would meet weekly in Diagon Alley, because it was halfway between both of their houses. True, there were to be only two sessions, but Mrs. Weasley was determined to make her youngest son learn.

"Hermione!" A voice called behind her, sounding rather strained.

"My friend Hermione, please, my friend, don't make me do this..."

Hermione gradually spun around, finding Mr. Weasley and Ron, who was stuffing his hands in his cloak defiantly, not looking at all happy to see her. "Well, hello Ron. So kind of you to show up," she said, her lips turning up into a smirk.

The brunette witch managed to remember her manners, and she smiled at Mr. Weasley.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley. I'll take good care of Ron, I promise."

Mr. Weasley looked worn out, as if he had dragged a screaming wildcat into the family's car, and then had to strap it down while dodging its claws. He smiled thankfully at Hermione. "I'm so sorry we had to bother you, Hermione. I know you must not be wanting to do this... Percy didn't want to tutor him, so you were our next option."

He trailed off and grabbed the neck of Ron's cloak, who had been sneakily edging towards Mr. Ollivander's wand shop. Hermione was slightly offended that he would rather be with the creepy old man rather than himself.

All the while, Ron had not even looked up at her. He had grown taller during the
holidays, but not too tall that Hermione would be a tiny spot beneath him. She was beginning to get a bit irritated at the red-haired boy.

"It's really not a problem," Hermione said as brightly as she could, smiling again.

Ron grumbled something that sounded a lot like "Yes, it is."

Mr. Weasley sighed loudly, then noticed something. "Your hair looks nice, Hermione. Did you color it a different color?" Ron suddenly looked up at his father's question, hoping to see Hermione looking like a wild boar. Unfortunately, she had become quite the opposite of a wild boar. His brown eyes went wide and his mouth dropped.

"Helloooooo, Hermione." Ron's brain did not particularly care that Hermione happened to be his best friend. "Looking very nice today. Very, very nice, in fact. Mmm-hmm"

Hermione was feeling a bit uncomfortable as Ron stood gaping at her body.

There was an akward silence, and Ron had to stop looking at her or have his father remove his eyeballs. "Flobberworms, Ron! Get yourself together, man."


Then, his father interrupted his river of denial.

"Well, I better go," said Mr. Weasley hurriedly. "There's a lady in Southampton who ate a Glowing Whiddle, and apparently, from what I've heard, she's been glowing different colors all day. Morty Magunus saw her when he was on Ministry business. Thank God
she's blind!"

With that final note, Mr. Weasley dashed away, calling back to Ron that he'd pick him up *right* there in one hour, and that Hermione was to give him an owl if Ron escaped.


"Hello," gruffed out Ron, whose mouth had slightly closed, but there was a tiny trace of drool on the side of his lip. Hermione grinned. "I was wondering when you were going to say that. You were much nicer before your mum told you that you had to have lessons with me."

Ron raked a freckled hand through his bright red hair. "It's holidays! SUMMER holidays, Hermione! I think there's a law against studying during the holidays. Wouldn't want to break any rules..."


"But I'm willing to make an exception for you, Ron."

They walked over together to the ice cream shop not too far away, pulling up chairs at a brightly colored parasol covered table. Hermione took a large books out of her bookbag, much resembling the ones they had poured over at Hogwarts.

"Well then. Shall we start?" The sleek haired girl asked the apprehensive boy sitting across the table from her.

"Noo..." moaned Ron, who was obviously not happy to be here. He burrowed his red head underneath his arms defensively. "You're being so mean."

"Good to know, Ron," said Hermione, who wasn't to be fazed by anything the boy was saying today. He was completely mad, if not a little bit red in the face, at least. As Hermione plunked the last heavy book on the table, Florean Fortescue came out of the
cheery ice cream parlor (whose banner on the front of the shop had ice cream dripping from a crystal bowl).

"Ah, Harry Potter's friends!" Florean said instantly, knowing the two teenagers by the amount of books she carried around."What will you be having today?" He asked, cheerily wiping his hot fudge covered hands on his completely sanitary apron. The
brown chocolate stains disappeared instantly.

"Double chocolate foam with teeth colouring sprinkles!" Exclaimed Ron right away, knowing he'd probably need the chocolate.

"One double chocolate foam, colour sprinkles," noted Florean Fortescue with a Quick-Notes quill. "And you?" He asked Hermione.

"Er... Peanut butter and jelly ice cream," Hermione told him. Florean took the notes taken with the quill, tapped it with his wand, and magically, their orders appeared on the table instantly.

"Cool," breathed Hermione, who had never really sat down long enough to order here, or maybe it was just because Harry and Ron and herself had usually been not studying and weren't really paying attention. Ron sipped his slowly, knowing it would be his only one, because he only had about two sickles with him, and the other five he was planning on buying a Cannons playing card with.

"All right. I'm guessing you didn't miss that much, but enough to mess up your exams, right?" she asked.

"I'm not sure what I missed or then I'd probably remember it." Ron's arduous demeanor had slightly vanished as he drank the foamy goodness. He shrugged. "I know I didn't do so well on Snape's extreme forgetting potion. I think I might've inhaled some of the fumes and then forgot how long to keep it on or something. Then I forgot things the rest of the day. I remember them now so can we stop studying?"

"We haven't even started!" reprimanded Hermione. She took a bite out of her ice cream. Yummm... The magic world was so much more fun than her own in the Muggle world.

"You're disgusting!" Ron exclaimed. "It's *summer*. Summer! You need summer lessons, Hermione. I could start teaching you right now! Now, repeat after me. Quidditch is fun to play. Quidditch is fun to play. Quidditch is fun to- mmmpph!"

Hermione had clamped her hand over Ron's mouth before he could say anything else. She scowled menacingly at the boy who was trying to thwart her lessons. "My lessons. You learn, I teach. Not the other way around, because I know how to have fun during summer. But, as I'm getting paid to teach you, I figure you should actually learn something. So shut up and listen!"

Ron's eyes went wide and his mouth stopped blabbing, shocked at Hermione's outburst. She usually never talked like that, unless you counted the time when she went a little mad during the third year. At least then, she had a reason to be wicked.

"Yes, Miss Hermione. I'll be a good little boy, I swear."

Her facial features softened and she grinned at him. "Good. So have you done any of your homework yet?"

Ron grimaced. "I'm going to ignore that rather thick question and let you answer." Hermione sighed loudly, obviously irritated at his bluntness.

She took another bite out of her ice cream.

"That's a no, right?"

"Right. But Dad made me bring some of it, so he'd be sure I wouldn't procrastinate. You have a lot riding on your shoulders, Hermione," Ron told her knowledgeably.

"Then let's see it! Do you have the Hinkypunk trials paper with you for History of Magic?"

Ron pulled a few papers out of his own bookbag he was carrying. It was considerably lighter than Hermione's, whose was bulging at the seams.

"Yeah." He handed the papers to Hermione, who only took a few seconds to read the one sentence that read, "Hinkypunks are very scary little monsters."

"Ronnn..." She grumbled discontently. "That's *barely* a sentence."

"Er-my-kneeee... It was boring! Come on, you know History of Magic is boring!" Ron refused to believe that Hermione could actually disagree against that. They *were* kind of scary, and he really didn't remember anything about hinkypunks. That had been way
back in third year.

"Okay, so if we're not going to go anywhere studying, what are we supposed to do?" Hermione gave in. It was too hard to teach Ron. He simply wouldn't learn anything, and she knew it was hopeless as soon as she read the sentence. She finished her ice
cream quickly, ignoring the drips appearing gradually on her leg.

Ron grinned broadly, showing off his pearly white teeth. "He really can make a girl swoon sometimes," thought Hermione. "Eurgh. No, he couldn't, because it's physically impossible to swoon from a smile. What kind of a word is swoon, anyway?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to get rid of the traumatic thoughts coursing through her brain.

"Well, I could teach you about the wonderfulness of Merlin's Lyrvies," Ron told her, still grinning. "I swear, they're educational."

"What?" Hermione asked, completely confused by their very name.

"Merlin's Lyrvies! You haven't even heard of them?" Ron replied, astonished. That was practically impossible. All wizarding children had at least heard of them once in their lifetime.

She shook her head eagerly. "No, I haven't! Come on, tell me!" She started packing up her books and gave Ron his papers back. Ron noticed this and had to stuff back his laugh of victory. He had made Hermione stop studying! The joy and rapture!


Ron shook his head back at her, giving a small cluck of his tongue. "So deprived, so deprived," he said with a mock sadness. Then he smiled again. "No, really, you have. Come on, I'll show you." And with that, he grabbed her warm hand impatiently, pulling her away from the table outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor down the long cobblestoned street of Diagon Alley.

Hermione blushed as they walked down the street and Ron eventually let go of her hand as he walked impatiently down the rather long alley. If her eyes were mistaking her, she thought she had just seen him turn a deep crimson too as the sparks stopped running up her arm when they had let go of each other. But then again, Ron's skin was usually kind of red anyway...

"Not that I ever notice Ron's skin. That's really bizarre, Hermione." Hermione mentally smacked herself as she struggled to keep up with her friend.

Finally, the two friends reached a very small shop with the words "Merlin's Lavoratory" enscripted on it. Hermione placed her hands on her hips and stared open-mouthed at Ron. He had just started to open the large glass door to the inside when he felt her gaze
on his back. He spun around.

"What? It's the name of the shop!" Ron swore to Hermione, whose hair had begun to pop up in frizzy little tafts because of the heat outside. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head absently at the Quidditch-obsessed boy. Knowing him, it probably *did* have something to do with broomsticks and flying bludgers. Hermione walked in cautiously, half-expecting a broom to come flying at her. Instead, she found a room full of shelves of odd things that she recognized but couldn't really remember the names of. The shelves held shiny little thingamabobs, jumping dolls, and simmering cauldrons of God-knew-what.

"What is this place?" Hermione asked Ron softly, shifting her book bag to a more comfortable resting position on her shoulder. He stepped sideways towards her, brushing her hip with his arm accidentally. In the dim atmosphere of the shop and with only candles
glowing (no sun. the curtains were shut.) she couldn't tell if he had blushed. He cleared his throat, leaning in towards her conspiratiorially. "It's Percy's apartment."

She gazed over at him, only about 9 inches away from her face. Hermione frowned. "It is not Percy's apartment." He nodded, smiling widely.

"Gee, Hermione, you're smart."

"I know."

"Of course you do. You know everything."


Hermione slapped his shoulder lightly. "Shut up!" she whispered. A soft voice appeared from behind the counter. "The girl is right," the mysterious voice said. And the Mysterious Voice Lady rose up behind the large mahogany counter with glass jars on top. There
appeared-

"Professor Trelawney?" said Ron and Hermione in unison, completely shocked. Now the candles and the heat of the room made sense. Professor Trelawney's aura had been redecorating. And it looked like the Merlin's Lyrvies were gone! Ron gaped at Trelawney in indignation, but she seemed to take his staring as a compliment.

"Children! How nice it is to see you in the summer holidays. I was wondering when you were going to wander inside the peaceful store of mine. I saw it in my crystal ball, I did. You were wearing those bookbags, too." Professor Trelawney gasped at the stagger
of the words of truth she had just spouted.

Hermione and Ron had to conceal their laughs bubbling up in their throats. He cleared his throat, surpressing his grin. "This is your store?"

Professor Trelawney's arm seemed to sweep large amounts of gauzy cloth all over the tiny room, showing it the shop off as if it were some magnificent treasure. "But of course! Even Hogwarts teachers have to work during the summer. Headmaster Dumbledore prefers that we live our lives outside of teaching, of course."

Hermione nodded, a little surprised. It wasn't really as if she was surprised- but the teachers at Hogwarts spent at least 10 months out of the year there. There wasn't much time to have a "personal life," really. It seemed rather funny that Professor Trelawney
worked in a small shop during the summers. Hermione had thought that she stayed at home and gazed into the crystal ball and saw a whole lot of bad weather coming.


However, now Ron looked slightly angry at Professor Trelawney. Mervin's Lyrvies was gone! Now it was all Professor Trelawney's fault, and she hadn't even bothered to change the sign out in front. Then at least he could've avoided the buggy-eyed rambling teacher of his. The day was turning out to be not so good. At least Hermione was with him so then he wouldn't have had a purely awful tutor.

Sybil Trelawney clasped her hands together excitedly, bringing Ron and Hermione back from their daydreams. "Why don't I give you a reading? For free, of course, as you are- or were," she glanced at Hermione dismissively, "my students. It would be my pleasure!"

Hermione and Ron attempted to stammer out some "No, thank you, she's my tutor, we've really got to study, uh, I've got to be home by 4 or Mum'll be furious-" but she would have none of it.

She adjusted her glasses and lead the two protesting teenagers into a back room, pushing the tacky beaded curtains apart as they entered an even smaller room with a fireplace in it. Ron and Hermione sat down dutifully upon some wonderfully comfortable poofs in the corner where a draping tablecloth with stars and moons on it lay on a small circular table.

Trelawney pulled out her wand, and started a small green fire in the fireplace. Then she took a seat across from her students, arranging her gauzy gossamer cloak with skinny fingertips. "Ahhh... The aura in here is lovely! It really brings out the karma of your
hair, Ronald..." she glanced expectantly at Ron, who was blushing furiously. Not because of the compliment, however.

Hermione giggled and looked at the boy sitting next to her. "Ronald!" she gasped for breath, laughing so hard her stomach hurt. She snorted into the tablecloth.

Professor Trelawney looked disapprovingly at Hermione, now trying to stuff her fist in her mouth. "Now, dear. Ronald is a perfectly wonderful name. It does indeed go well with his karma." Ron tried to bury himself under the table, but Hermione pulled his collar of his shirt up. She stopped giggling and managed to compose herself, because apparently Professor Trelawney was most displeased with her karma.

"Hermee-ownee," muttered Ron back at Hermione. She didn't seem to care about the mispronunciation of her name. "Ronald," she gritted back, giggling a little more.

Trelawney cleared her throat quite loudly, announcing that she was about to begin. Hermione nudged Ron in the side. "Yes, Ronald. Your karma is being most displeasing. It may be harming the beautiful crystal ball sitting oh-so-kindly in front of us."

The teacher's voice started quite mysteriously, her buggy eyes twitching beneath her rather large unbecoming glasses. "Ahhhhhh... Ahhh..." her voice called out loudly.

"Choooo..." Ron said softly under his breath to Hermione.

"Bless you," she replied back with equal softness. Trelawney either ignored their comments or was completely deaf. She went on. "I see things... Ahhhh, yes."

Ron squinted at the crystal ball, trying to see "things." Hermione tried looking at what Ron was looking, but also saw nothing. "Maybe we should ship her off to the looney bin if she's going mad and seeing things," Ron murmured.

Trelawney placed her thin hands upon the tablecloth, trying to see more clearly into the crystal ball. Her eyes were now practically glued to the shiny glass ball. Ron put his hand over Hermione's mouth, sensing that she was about to go into gales of laughter. He
was right.

"Mhhhhahahhaahah!" her voice was muffled a lot more now because of Ron's hand. Professor Trelawney was much too into her lovely crystal ball in front of her. Ron looked over at Hermione and started snorting quite loudly. Hermione saw Ron laughing in the
dim light of the fireplace and started snorting too.

"Alas! My dear students!" the teacher's melancholy voice rang out in the teeny tiny room. "I see such- dark things. Dark, dark, dark, dark things," she said quite sadly.

"I see such- stupid things. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid things," mumbled Hermione to Ron. He nodded at her, agreeing completely. Trelawney heard this and glared at the two. "I'm afraid your auras are making my Inner Eye feel rather troubled. I cannot see anything with the two of you here. So if you could please leave..." her voice trailed off as her eyes were captured by the crystal ball.

Ron and Hermione stood up immediately. "We're sorry, Professor. See you in September!" Hermione said quickly. Ron nodded.

"Bye!"

And with that, the two of them dashed out of their teacher's shop and found themselves in the nice cool outdoors. At least it was cool compared to the awful tiny shop. They let out the laughter they had tried to keep in, and kept on laughing for a couple minutes until they could regain their breaths.

Hermione looked over at Ron, her chest heaving. "I really don't like her."

Ron nodded back, also agreeing. "Well, I really really don't like her. I'd rather be with Lockhart than with her."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Lockhart isn't that bad."

Ron glanced at Hermione disbelievingly. "You're not kidding? You only like him because he's handsome, and you know it!"

She glared at him. "Do not. I like Victor, don't I? And he's not a bit handsome."

"Everbody likes Krum, Er-my-knee. He's famous."

"So? I did have a rather nice time with his family and him in Bulgaria. Mum and Dad came too, you know."

Lots of fascinating history there. Lots of broomsticks, too. You'd probably love it," retaliated Hermione, getting a little off-topic. She really did have a nice time with Victor.

"I'd probably not! I might think Krum is a fabulous Quidditch player but it's not like I'd..."

Hermione interrupted. "You would too! You're only angry because he didn't invite you." She crossed her arms under her chest, her face red. Fidgeting with his bookbag, Ron glared almost as menacingly back at Hermione. Like he cared! He could visit Krum
anytime now that he was out of school. He didn't need Hermione's permission or anything.

"I'm not angry. I don't even care!" Ron yelled at Hermione. They were in a more secluded part of Diagon Alley, so there weren't *that* many people around. But there were enough heads to turn and look at Hermione and Ron to make them move around the back of a Muggle clothes store. There were high brick walls surrounding them, but it was clean. The back of the clothes store had not a lot of space, but there was a whole long alleyway along the back of every store, including Professor Trelawney's.

There was enough room for Ron to lean against one brick wall, and for Hermione to reset against the back of the clothes store wall. They both crossed their arms over their chests and stayed that way for many long minutes, glaring at each other, trying to stare
one another down. At last, Ron said something. The tension was so thick between the two you couldn't have cut it with a sledgehammer if you wanted to.

"Maybe I did care," he muttered under his breath, hoping Hermione wouldn't hear him. He dropped his bookbag to the cracked cement floor of the back alley.

Hermione had heard him. She snapped her head up hopefully. "Not like I care that he cared." She toed a pebble into a small crack in the cement, and waited a while before she responded. Ron was slightly wringing his fingers together, back and forth, and back
and forth.

"Maybe I should have told him to invite you," Hermione replied softly.

Ron shrugged his shoulders sadly. "Even with the money Harry gave us..." Hermione knew what he was talking about. The money was going into fixing up the Weasley house and starting a shop for the twins. Even with the money... He wouldn't have been able
to come.

"I know," she finished for him. He looked up gratefully. The topic of money was always a sort of sore spot for Ron. Harry and Hermione didn't bring it up unless they had to, and it wasn't often.

"You're a good friend, Hermione," he told her truthfully. "Even if you are going to make me repeat fifth year if you don't help me with my stupid essays."

She looked at him, incensed. "Oh, please Ron. It was your fault in the first place."

He furrowed his eyebrows at her, already feeling a little better. Not that he was feeling bad because of the Krum conversation, of course. *I don't care... That much.* But even that was an understatement. "It was not! My father is paying you darn good knuts..."

Hermione grinned. "Then we'd better get on with the lessons already, shouldn't we?" Ron shrugged. "Personally, I think this back alley is very charming. I'm feeling very educated already! See?" he indicated, starting to count the number of rough red bricks
stacked up 20 ft into the air. "I'm learning numbers... So then.. Er... Snape won't kill me when I put 4 boar eyes in the Hair Growth potion instead of 1/2 boar eyes."

Hermione grinned, and elbowed his gut. "Ow!" he yelled. "That hurt, Hermione. Really." He patted his chest. "Right in here, it did."

"I'm sure."