The twins had made it halfway upstairs before someone pointed out that George's face was a horrendous shade of blue.
"Aww, Ronnie, you ruined it..." Fred complained. It took less than a second for him to sense his twin's anger; he was gone before Ron got a chance to respond. There was no time for a comment to George, either, for he had darted after his brother. The remaining Weasley shrugged his gangly shoulders nonchalantly and continued downstairs.
It was the smell of Chocolate Frogs that had brought him to the Common Room, though once he got there, all he saw was a moping Hermione. Curious - about both why Hermione was upset and the current absence of chocolate - he cut his way across the room. "Hey," he said softly. His voice made her jump; she clearly hadn't heard him come down. A lopsided grin spread across his face. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Hermione said distractedly.
"I - er - smelled chocolate..."
"The frogs are on the table," she said knowingly. "Take them, I don't want them."
Ron happily obliged. As he held the squirming thing in his hand, he eyed the box it had come from. "Wait a minute... aren't these the ones I gave you for Christmas?"
"Oh... I don't know. Are they?"
He ran a finger along the back of the box. Happy Christmas Mione had been written in ink on the ones he'd give her; sure enough, there were indents from where he had pressed his quill too hard. He narrowed his red eyebrows. "You don't like them?"
"Not particuarly, no."
"So you don't mind if I eat them...?"
"For goodness sake, Ronald, just eat the damn things already!"
"What's got your knickers in a bunch?" Ron demanded, biting off the head of the frog.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Absolutely nothing," she snapped. "Nothing at all. My knickers are in no bunch. In fact, I'm - "
"Hermione," Ron interjected, "your babbling."
"Well perhaps if you didn't keep interupting, there'd be no reason for my babbling!" she screeched. Agitated, slightly furious, and more than a little bit annoyed, she grabbed her bag and stormed off. Ron watched as the portrait hole slammed shut behind her. As he did, he made a mental note to check the calander. Perhaps it wasn't a good day...
- - -
Boys, she decided, could not get any more stupid. Especially tall, awkward red-headed ones. Could he not tell, just by looking at her, by listening to her, that she wasn't too keen on talking to him at the moment? That she really did care if he ate those Chocolate Frogs? That the only reason she'd agreed to letting him eat them was because she wanted him out? Ugh, it was just so... irritating!
And - oh! - the way he'd asked her what was wrong... could he have been more pompous, more arrogant, more rude about it? 'Knickers in a bunch'? What the hell was that?
"That's impossible!"
Her heart did a quick flip; she knew that voice, she knew that voice all too well. It was slick, it was mysterious, it was cold... it was bittersweet, too, in a way. It reminded her of chilly winter days, the kind that were spent huddling around a jar of blue flames in the courtyard, drinking warm buttermilk in Hogsmead... the good days. Those were days when nobody cared about what they did, when they had no stress upon their shoulders. They were, in a way, even easier than the first few days of summer, which were typically spent worrying about exams. When she thought of them that way, she realized that those were her favorite kinds of days. And, unfortunatly, it was his voice that reminded her of them.
"Hermione!"
She spun around quickly, trying to catch her breath - apparently, thinking about his mystifying voice had found a way to make her lose it. "Oh, hello, Harry."
"I just saw Ron - " The spectacled boy watched for any trace of annoyance. " - Did you two have another row or something?"
"It was hardly a row, though I'm sure he overexaggerated," she began, "he's just been rather annoying lately."
Harry eyed her. "Annoying how?"
"Just annoying," she said. "I don't know... there's just been something about him that'd been irritating me lately."
"Well that explains a lot," Harry said flatly.
"I don't know, Harry... I don't know how I ought to explain it."
He didn't reply for a moment. Instead, his vivid green eyes wandered around the corridor. Hermione waited with slightly bated breath for him to settle on the boy at the end; she knew Harry saw him as soon as his eyes hardened. "Let's go to the library," Harry suggested. "I need to work on an essay for Flitwick, and I could sure use your help."
She let her breath out quietly. "Alright," she agreed, "as long as you don't make me tell you what's bothering me about Ronald."
"I promise."
She smiled. With a nod, she gestured for Harry to lead the way. Once he was a good few steps ahead of her, she took a chance to look back behind her shoulder. What she saw surprised her: an empty hallway. He was... gone.
