Molly harrumphed loudly as the mystery Professor and Tonks Apparated away. "Well, if I'd been able to blow my tits up to the size of cantaloupe, maybe he'd have spent the night here, instead. Honestly!

"What's that about cantaloupe, love? Did I just miss pudding?" Arthur Weasley asked upon crossing the Burrow's threshold. "And who was that gentleman Tonks was hanging all over?"

"Oh Arthur," Molly replied, "Did you see that spectacle all the way from the garden?"

"Enlarge your bosoms to the size of footballs and I'll see them from there, too," Arthur quipped, then swatted his wife playfully on her rear.

"Arthur, not in front of the children!" Molly giggled, nodding towards the Golden Trio Plus One.

"Come now, Mollywobbles. You know quite well that Ronald's no stranger to a swat on the bum. Just ask Harry."

"Da-ad!" Ginny whinged, not wanting any part of this conversation.

"Oh, honestly, Ginny," Arthur continued, "they're the only three in their year who wouldn't be able to say the same about you."

The kitchen went silent watching a blush bloom across Hermione's face. Ginny dropped her forehead onto the kitchen table.

"Right. The only two, then."

"Oh, Ginevra," Molly said, holding the bridge of her nose with two fingers, "why can't you just be like every other witch in Europe and only have one boyfriend through school? I met your father in fourth year, after all."

Hermione made sure to knock and wait a couple of moments before entering Ron's room later that night. As things among the trio were rather out in the open now, she'd just as well have stayed in Ginny's room, but this was a mystery, so she reckoned she'd better grab Shaggy and Scooby and figure things out. She also reckoned that her recent tacit admission of a fling with Ginny made her the Thelma of the group, which caused her to shudder and swear off the color orange forever.

"I'm coming in," she shouted. "Are you boys decent in there?"

Well, no. No they weren't. But they were sixteen-year-old boys, so blowing farts with their armpits while running around in their pyjama bottoms would have to do. This came to an immediate stop when she opened the door, as Ron began to stare her ominously.

"Ron," Hermione asked, warily. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You..." he stuttered, "Ginny... You..."

"Yes, very well, we were all down there. But with Harry buggering you like a randy shepherd, I'd've thought you'd have no problem with it."

"You..." Ron continued. "Ginny..."

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "A little help here?"

"Well, I think Ron's a bit confused," Harry answered. "He's sworn, as an older brother in an anachronistically patriarchal society, to avenge anyone who'd sully his baby sister's honor." Harry mimed air-quotes around the last word.

"But that's half the school!" Hermione exclaimed. "There's a reason her nickname is 'Cleansweep Weasley'."

"Sure. But as long as he doesn't hear about names, there's really nothing he can do. Anyway, so he really wants to defend Ginny, but his mum'd have kittens if he hexed a girl."

"That's ridiculous. We're about equal duelers; who comes up with this nonsense, anyway?"

"I'm as lost as you are, Hermione," Harry answered. "Just throw him a bone and tell him you won't do anything to hurt her, okay?"

"For goodness sake, Harry. Must I really? It was a one-time thing; I just helped her toss one off behind the - "

"That's enough detail there. A bit much actually. Just talk to the boy, 'Mione - he's nearly worked himself into a trance!"

Hermione did manage to settle Ron down a bit, telling him she only had Ginny's best interests at heart. This calmed things down for a moment, at least, and it was time to crack a mystery once again.

"Right," she said, sitting down on Ron's bed. "Let's take a look at what we have, shall we? A t-shirt with a mysterious - good lord, Ronald. Was that you?"

Ron made a noise somewhere between a snort and a chortle. "I think, Hermione, that she who smelt it, dealt it." This sent Harry into hysterics.

"Okay Ron," he said. "Then he who denied it, supplied it." This sent Ron into hysterics, too, and Hermione waited a good moment or two before sending a reducto at Ron's desk chair.

"Wicked," Ron exclaimed. "We needed some kindling to warm the house."

"Right. Now that I have your attention, we need to get to the matter at hand. First, who is this gorgeous hunk of - ahem, I mean - who is this new DADA professor that Dumbledore's found. So far, we know two things about him. First, the t-shirt. Ron, I need you to find out who Ramone is, and why the Professor is wearing his or her shirt. Secondly, Harry. Try to remember as much as you can about your trip to California, and write everything down."

"It'd be a bit easier if I had a pensieve. Wait - Ron, does your family have a pensieve I could use?"

"Harry, are you honestly asking the poorest family in all of Wizarding England if we have a pensieve? An object so rare and valuable, that if we sold it, Ginny and I could eat and have new clothes every year?"

Harry looked away sheepishly. "Stupid question, I know, but - "

"Of course we do, mate!" Ron cut in with a jovial slap on the shoulder. "I'll ask Mum in the morning - think she keeps it in the root cellar or something."

"Wicked!" Harry exclaimed.

Hermione, however, had more pressing things on her mind. "Right. Now that that's sorted, I think I should be getting back downstairs. There were a few things I was hoping Ginny could help me go over... 'Night, boys!" she said, running out the door ducking Ron's hexes.