Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKRowling (oops, forgot to put this before)
Experiment: All dialogue
Summary: Ever wonder what happened with all those times Harry left Ron and Hermione together while he went off to learn how to save the world (again)?
Chapter One: The Half-Blood Princess
Setting: Harry just left for Dumbledore's first meeting with him. Eight o'clock, Saturday evening, the Gryffindor common room (Oh, and this fic will continue through the whole of book VI if people actually read it).
Do you think Dumbledore teaching him will do much good?
Well . . . it has too, doesn't it? He's not going to make Harry spend hours and hours with him just to have tea and talk about woolen socks.
Woolen socks?
Oh yeah . . . remember the Mirror of Erised? Harry told me that Dumbledore saw himself holding a pair of warm socks.
What on earth does this have to do with fighting Voldemort, Ron?
Don't say it out loud, Hermione! —I don't know . . . Dumbledore will probably have all sorts of special spells laid out for him.
(pause)
This always happens. This ALWAYS happens.
Hmm?
The sidekicks are left to do the dirty work while our hero goes off and does his thing.
We're not doing dirty work!
He doesn't have to do his essay on the Principles of Rematerialization—
I can't believe you're complaining about that. I really don't.
Don't shake your head at me.
I just let you see all of mine! And what did you do with it! You read it upside down!
Well it didn't give me a spark of inspiration the right way around.
What do you need inspiration for? You just listen to McGonagall, take decent notes, and read the textbook.
It's not always that easy for people with normal brain capacity, Hermione.
I'm flattered, thank you. And don't change the subject. You're not jealous of Harry or anything, right?
Why would I be jealous? I'm his best mate!
Okay, then . . .
. . . I don't like that tone.
What tone?
Like you know better but you're hiding it on purpose to make me want to know.
What would I hide, Ron?
What would I be jealous of, Hermione?
Harry doesn't have to do it, you know.
Do what?
Really act like the Chosen One.
I know, but—hey, you're the one who's jealous.
Me?
I mean about Harry's potions book.
I just think that it's wrong to follow the directions of something where you can't see the brain.
You're just repeating what my dad always says.
It's a little suspicious, don't you think?
What, that Harry's doing better in Slughorn's class than you?
NO! What—I—
Look, I'm not that excited about Harry learning secret little tricks from some prince, but at least I don't try to argue that the Half-Blood Prince is a girl.
I was just saying that, you know, the handwriting looks feminine!
A guy can be pretty smart, too.
I'm not saying that guys are stupid—well, not all of them—but I don't like the whole idea of Harry learning from something unknown.
You just hate the idea that people can learn better through unofficial ways.
You just hate the idea that Harry gets to leave off his Principles of Rematerialization essay until tomorrow.
OH . . . yeah . . . by the way, can I have another look at that essay of yours again, Hermione?
To look at it sideways, perhaps?
(later)
WAKE UP!
STOP DROOLING ON MY ESSAY!
I'm not . . . drooling . . .
You've had that for the last past hour or so, Ron! If you're sleepy, then go on up.
No—I want to wait for Harry.
Then don't fall asleep on my piece of parchment. You've got it all wet, look—what were you dreaming about, anyway?
It's not wet . . . dreaming?
You were sort of mumbling in your sleep.
Oh—uh—wh . . . what did I say?
I couldn't tell. You're incoherent even when you're awake, how could I understand your sleep talk?
Oh . . . good—I mean . . . er . . .
I don't want to know.
(awkward silence, then a voice is heard outside)
Um . . . I think Harry's back from Dumbledore, Ron!
Good—good—er . . .
I said I don't want to know . . .