Oh my gosh, you guys... last night I was watching the trio's thank-you speeches at the premiere of Deathly Hallows: Part Two and I COULD NOT STOP CRYING! I think I almost flooded my room with those tears.

Ron gripped his test paper tightly, heart falling at the sight of every circled question. Red ink marred the page, and a large, spiky T glared up at him from the front, top corner. He crumpled the sheet and stuffed it in his bag.

"Hey, Ron" Harry grinned after class. "Hope you did better than me on the test," he added, wincing at his own grade.

"I did bad," Ron confessed. Before he could say more Hermione flounced up to them. Ron braced himself; If there was one thing he didn't need, it was Hermione offering to help him study, or give him test-taking advice, or look at him in that infuriating, pitying way she had. If anyone could possibly make him feel dumber, it was Hermione trying to "help" him.

"So did you guys get your tests back?" she chirped.

"Yeah, A." Harry admitted regretfully. "Let me guess, you got full marks?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Hey, that's still not bad!" she said, punching him playfully on the arm. "Last test, you got a P." Then she turned to Ron. "So Ron, how did you do?"

"It's not important," he mumbled, feeling awkward.

"You can tell us," Harry assured him, looking a little hurt. He wanted Ron to be able to trust him with anything, and Ron knew he could, but with Hermione and her perfect score… He sighed, knowing Harry would get it out of him eventually, and spilled. "I failed." Harry merely nodded, while Hermione's eyes immediately softened in sympathy.

"Oh, that's rough, Ron. Do you want me to look at it and see if I can find you any more points? Or I could talk to Professor McGonagall and try to get you to have a retake. I'd help you study if you want-"

"I'm fine," Ron cut her off, failing to keep the snarl out of his voice. Harry threw him a glance that was like, What the hell was that? Hermione cringed, and Ron instantly felt guilty. Lowering his voice, he lied: "I don't want to make you go through all that trouble." Hermione relaxed a bit.

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be any trouble at all. If you want, I could even loan you my flash cards, and we could study in the common room, and-"

Once again, Ron snapped. "SHUT UP!" he burst. "I don't want your pity, I don't want your help, and I don't want you!" Hermione just stood there for a moment, apparently in shock. Then she burst into tears, turned on her heel, and ran away. Ron watched her go, but not as happily as he expected. He already felt guilty. However, before he could say anything else, let alone stop glaring at Hermione, Harry had already swept in.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked, crossing his arms protectively.

Ron squirmed uncomfortably. "I didn't-"

"Hi, Harry, Ron!" a cheerful voice called to them. Harry turned to see it was Luna, skipping towards them.

"Oh, hey, Luna. What're you doing here? Isn't your next class Divination?"

"Oh, yes. But I passed Hermione a few moments ago and she was in floods of tears," her pale little face became somber. "So I knew it must have been one of you."

"Where's Hermione now?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Class," Luna replied. "But… Ron, I overheard your outburst to Hermione. She said it was nothing, but I think she was just trying to protect you."

Ron looked at his feet guiltily. "You're not mad at me?" he squeaked, ashamed.

"No, just…confused," Harry locked eyes with Ron."Luna, don't miss class," he said, not breaking eye contact with Ron.

"Okay!" she said brightly. "See you later, then!" With that she skipped away. Harry looked at Ron expectantly.

"I don't know why I yelled," Ron lied, not wanting Harry to know about his dumbness, though he knew it was coming regardless.

"I do," Harry said, and Ron looked at him, confused. Harry nodded at his quizzical expression. "Hermione makes you feel stupid sometimes, doesn't she?" Ron gaped.

"How did you-?"

"Cause she does that to me, too," Harry shrugged. "Whenever I get a bad grade, Hermione has to feel all bad for me and tries to help me get a better one. It seems like she thinks I can't do it on my own. She's just on a different boat than us." At Ron's lost expression, he continued. "You know how Hermione cries if she gets an E, and we cheer at it? Well, to Hermione, an E is a T. Anything less than that is incomprehensible. She just doesn't get it. So when she hears that, it's like telling her a house-elf died or something. Look, studying is all Hermione does. To her, offering to loan you her notes is like offering to help you practice a spell. She's just different from us."

The late bell rang, and the boys ran to class, Ron feeling worse than ever. It didn't help when Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes. He plopped down next to her at the table, wincing at her cringe. Harry met his eyes, and mouthed, Go on, do it! Luckily, Professor Flitwick had still not arrived, so there was still time.

"Hey," he said awkwardly.

"Hey," Hermione echoed, twirling her quill in her fingers. She still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry," they said in unison. "What? I said I'm sorry," they continued at the same time.

"Wait, why are you sorry?" Ron asked. Hermione shrugged.

"Cause I hurt your feelings."

"Oh," Ron mumbled, feeling horribly uncomfortable. He cast a pleading glance at Harry but he was already playing hangman with Neville on a corner his parchment. Ron chewed his thumbnail. "You didn't try to…" Hermione fumbled with her quill.

"But I did," she said, biting her lip. "And now you hate me." Hermione's voice was tight.

"Hermione, I don't hate you. You were just being an awesome friend, and I was being an idiot," he refrained from adding, "Like usual."

"Ron, you're not an idiot, you're just smarter at other things," Hermione told him. Ron shook his head, opened his mouth to say that she was wrong, but Hermione stopped him. "If you were an idiot, you wouldn't have figured out how to successfully attach rockets to your rollerblades and give them to Filch, figure out how to use a bra as a slingshot, or turn a quill into a spitball shooter." Hermione smiled at the last one. "Actually, the Spitball Shooter 5000 took genius."

"But I got in trouble for all that stuff," Ron said, remembering the Howlers from his mum and the many hours of detention he had suffered.

"Genius is for granted," Hermione said bluntly.

Soon, the class finally started. In the seat behind them, Neville mournfully handed Harry five Galleons. It was that day that Neville had learned to never make a bet with any of them.

Agh, corny ending, I know. Oh well. I do enjoy those.

BTW, the grades above are: O= Outstanding. E= Exceeds Expectations. A= Acceptable. P= Poor. D= Dreadful. T= Troll.