The sun was barely beginning to peek over the horizon as the tall boy crept out onto the porch, stealthily making his way to the small enclosure where the owls nested. The only sound was the sleepy clucking of the chickens as they exited the coop, and Ron breathed a small sigh of relief, knowing he was nearly home free. It was a pain to have to sneak around like this, but ever since the twins found out he had been owling Hermione, they had taken the mickey out of him something fierce. What was the bloody big deal that one of his best friends was a girl? It's not like the twins didn't have girls for friends, like Angelina and Katie. And they had talked to Hermione enough times, too, and they had liked her well enough then. Besides, she wasn't just any girl. She was...Hermione. sort of in a category all her own, really.

He poked Errol awake, the owl gazing at him blearily. Ron felt a bit bad for sending him out, but Percy refused to let him use Hermes. "Alright, Errol. I need you to take this to Hermione. Try not to pass out before you get there." He ordered, tying the letter to the outstretched leg.

Errol hopped out, and Ron held his breath as he took off, wincing when the owl failed to gain enough height to clear one of the trees it the yard, the branch knocking him off course. With a few flaps of the wings he straightened out, beginning the now familiar route to Hermione's. Ron smiled. Success! He had manged to send off a message without the twins around for once, and he turned to go back inside, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Hermione groaned as Ron choked back a yelp at the sight of Fred and George leaning in the doorway, wicked smirks on their faces. She had never given any consideration to what his family might have thought when he started writing her, but knowing the twins, she shouldn't have been surprised.

"Gooood morning, Ronniekins! Fancied a stroll before breakfast?" George drawled.

Fred snickered. "Or was it something else? Another love letter to Granger, perhaps?"

Ron felt his face heat up, but managed to contain his temper. This was mild by their standards, and at least they weren't making kissy faces yet.

"Piss off!" He growled, shoving past them into the house, where he heard his mum in the kitchen starting breakfast. He went in to sit at the table, knowing they would have to tone it down in front of her. That didn't stop them from trooping in after him, biding their time. He shrugged. At least they would be easier to deal with once he had a full stomach.

The rest of his family began to trickle in as the house filled with the smell of frying eggs and sizzling sausage. First his father, who kissed his mother on the cheek before reaching for the Prophet, already immersed in an article before he had even sat down. Then Percy, already dressed and with his hair neatly combed, looking disgustingly chipper for this early in the morning. Ginny was the last one down, stumbling into the room still in her nightgown, scowling at everyone seated at the table. Being used to this, no one made any comment. No one said anything to her at all; Ginny was not a morning person, and her temper was rather volatile before she had her first piece of toast and a glass of juice.

Breakfast in the Weasley household was a rushed affair, everyone in a hurry to get their day started as quickly as possible. His mum finished first, and went out back to tend to the chickens and check one of the goats that had been looking sickly. His dad was next, glancing at his watch with a guilty start before fleeing in the direction of the fireplace, nearly five minutes late. Percy sighed at this, but for once said nothing, instead muttering something about needing to look in on his owl before leaving the room. The twins pushed their empty plates away, grinning. This was the moment they had been waiting for.

"So, Fred. Do you think Hermione is swooning over Ron's letter about now, girlish heart all aflutter?" George asked, as if Ron wasn't sitting directly across from him.

Fred pretended to ponder his question. "Well, actually, no. He did use Errol, after all. He might not get their until the birth of their first child."

Hermione laughed. George had always insisted that he and Fred had known Hermione would be the girl for Ron right from the start. She supposed this was proof, although she was surprised that Ron hadn't ended up avoiding her out of self defense.

"Besides," Fred continued. "I'm not sure that Hermione is the swooning type. Can't really picture her saving Ron's letters in her knicker drawer, can you?"

Hermione blushed. Actually, she had saved all of the letters he had ever written. She had kept them in a small box in her wardrobe.

"Oh, I don't know. She seems rather fond of the written word. It would probably depend on how good they were. Did you write anything nice and steamy?" He addressed the last bit to Ron, whose ears lit up.

"You would know. It was the same as the last two you sneaked a look at." Ron bit out shortly. It was hard to hold his tongue, but he needed their help with Harry, and he wasn't willing to risk ticking them off. Yet.

They had the good grace to look abashed. "Sorry Ron, that was out of line. No more tampering with the post." Fred promised.

"To make up for it, we'll teach you a few romantic poems that you might like to send-" George added, but was cut off by a sharp kick on the shin from Ginny.

"Knock it off, you two. You're just jealous because neither one of you has ever got a girl to write to you." She sneered, taking her plate and stacking it in the sink.

Ron repressed a grin. Her remark had left the twins sputtering and speechless, another reason why she was his favorite sister. Deciding that this was the best moment to retreat, he slipped out of the room and began climbing the staircase, Ginny trotting along behind him, all the way up to his room. She shut the door behind her, plopping down at the foot of his bed. The room was warm and stuffy, so he crossed to the window, opening it with a firm yank, grunting as it stuck before finally rising all the way. He joined her on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard, long legs drawn up with his arms resting on his knees.

"You know, I wasn't going to say anything in front of Fred and George, but I was pretty surprised to hear you were friends with a girl, much less a swotty one."

"She's not really swotty...well, alright, she is." Ron amended at her skeptical look. "But she's not like Percy, you know? She doesn't think she's better than everyone because she's smart." He explained thoughtfully.

Ginny rolled onto her side to look up at him. "So she never makes you feel stupid?"

Ron had to think a moment. "Sure, all the time. But she doesn't mean to, and I don't think she even knows she's doing it."

Hermione blinked back tears. She had never meant to make anyone feel bad about themselves, especially Ron. She had just never believed in false modesty. Yes, she was smart. It was a fact, the way Ron was tall, or Harry wore glasses. Learning that she had played a part (however unwittingly) in Ron's insecurities was disheartening.

So far, his description of Hermione hadn't really impressed Ginny. "So, how did you end up with her, anyway? I know a troll was involved somehow, but was that before or after you were friends?"

The tips of Ron's ears gave him away, his eyes not meeting hers as he traced a large black 'C' on his quilt. Remembering his treatment of pre-troll Hermione always brought a faint sense of shame.

"Um, well, the troll came right after I said something that may have been a bit...rude." he admitted.

Ginny, knowing him as well as she did, saw right through him. "How rude is 'a bit'?"

"I don't remember, exactly." He stalled, then continued when she narrowed her eyes, "alright, I called her a nightmare and said she didn't have any friends. In front of a lot of people. Ouch!" He yelped when Ginny punched his shin.

"You prat! I'm surprised she even spoke to you after that!"

Ron shrugged. "The whole troll thing happened a few hours later, and after that...I guess it didn't matter any more."

Ginny looked like she was thinking about punching him again, and he hastily shifted his legs out of the way.

"Let me guess; you never bothered to tell her you were sorry. Honestly, you need to learn when to suck it up and apologize! Someday you're going to regret it if you don't."

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you, Mum."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Then I'll reserve judgment on her until I meet her for myself, although I almost have to believe that on top of being a genius, she must be a saint as well."

Ron cocked his head. What was she on about? "A saint? What for?"

"For putting up with you, of course!" She grinned cheekily, smacking his foot away when he attempted to kick her in the shoulder.

A muffled explosion from the direction of the twins' room drew their attention, but then they both relaxed when it was followed by silence. Ron was just thankful that whatever they were up to, at least this time they wouldn't have to evacuate.

"Hey, Ron?" Ginny asked quietly, her gaze trained on the ceiling.

"Hm?" He answered, already suspecting by her blush what subject she was preparing to bring up. Try as he might, he just couldn't understand his sister's fixation with Harry.

"What's Harry Potter like? I mean, really." She finally asked, her face redder than his ears had been moments ago.

He groaned. "Ginny, he's just Harry. His shit stinks just like everyone else's."

She scrunched her nose, her scattering of freckles getting lost in the wrinkles. "Lovely, Ron. I won't ask how you know that."

It was strange, he thought, how everyone always made a big deal over Harry for something that had happened to him as a baby. Of course, Ron supposed he had been just as bad before he met him. But Harry really was just like anyone else, for the most part. And then Hermione, who was probably the most brilliant witch at Hogwarts, was pretty much ignored. Again, he had been the same way before he got to know her. Which was a shame, because once you got her nose out of a book, she was actually quite fun to be around, even when you riled her up. Sometimes especially when you riled her up.

"So, would you say Hermione's shit stinks too?" Ginny asked, bringing him out of his musings.

Ron snorted, then said in a bossy tone, "How crude! You would say, her fecal matter gives off a foul odor."

Ginny stared at him a moment before bursting into a fit of giggles. "Ooooh, I can't wait to tell her that!" She chortled.

His stomach lurched. Bloody hell, Hermione would kill him!

"You wouldn't." He pleaded.

"I would." She affirmed, standing up.

He scrambled to the edge of the bed, reaching out for her arm, just missing it as she twisted away.

"Come on, you wouldn't want your favorite brother to get his bits hexed off, would you?"

She laughed at his whining, dancing away as he lunged for her. "Of course not, but why would Hermione want to hex Bill?"

That, he felt, was certainly uncalled for! He chased her as she ran out of his room and down the stairs, their feet thumping on the risers.

Hermione followed them as they burst out of the front door, but instead of the front lawn of the Burrow, she found herself to be on the grounds of Hogwarts, the back of the castle visible in the distance. Most people were outside, taking advantage of the rare warm weather before the cold months set in. The three of them were in a fairly out of the way location, with only a handful of other students nearby. Most of them were being taken in by one of the twins' favorite tricks; they were standing behind a small section of stone wall left over from some bygone era, taking turns popping out on either side. Younger kids were laying bets as to which twin it was, with Lee taking their money and doling it out to the winners, the rare times one of them got it right.

Ron shook his head. Mum would have a fit if she knew half of the things they got up to, but a keen sense of self preservation made it a sure thing that she wouldn't be finding out from him. Although if she did find out, she would probably find a way to blame him for not stopping them. He snorted. As if anyone could stop the Twin Terrors, much less him.

He glanced to his left, where Harry had fallen asleep, his messy hair covered in blades of grass. Hermione was to his right, nose buried in a book. She had said this one was for 'pleasure.' How a book could be considered 'pleasurable' when it was thicker than one of Hagrid's poundcakes Ron would never know. Her head was bent low, her hair obscuring her face, but Ron knew the expression she was probably wearing anyway. There was a look of complete and utter concentration she got only when she was reading, more intent even than the one she usually had for the professors. Actually, it was because of her he had suggested they come out this far, though he hadn't told her or Harry that. Harry would most likely go along, but he figured Hermione would say he was being ridiculous.

But he wasn't. At least, no more than usual. At this vantage point, they could see whoever was coming near them from any direction, which suited Ron just fine, he thought, his eyes scanning about for any sign of the slithery snake. He had never liked Malfoy, and thought that his dislike couldn't possibly get stronger. He had been proven wrong the moment the foul little git had said what he had about Hermione. Ron had a temper, a bad one, he knew, but the urge to cause someone physical harm had never been as strong as it had that day. The thought scared him a little, but he brushed it off. Besides, it wasn't as if his curse had even worked. The humiliation had been even worse than the slugs. Now everyone probably thought a Squib could throw a better curse. Bloody wand! And then Hermione had tried to thank him, which, in a way, had only made it worse. He had just wanted to forget the whole thing, but she wouldn't let it go, until he had finally snapped at her. A hurt look had crossed her eyes before she had changed the subject, and he had felt more wretched than one of the slugs he had been spewing from his mouth. The one time she had praised him for something, and he had bitten her head off! Then again, she had probably only said it because she felt sorry for him.

"Honestly!" Hermione growled from where she had seated herself across from him. She was beginning to think that his abysmal self esteem was accountable for nearly half of their fights.

Ron was pulled from his thoughts when the twins and Lee wandered over to sit with them, counting out their take so they could divide it up. He watched the small pile of coins click together enviously. If there was one thing he wished he could share in common with his brothers, it would be their uncanny way of turning a profit. Hearing a delicate snort, he turned to find Hermione regerding the three boys with narrow eyes. He braced himself, waiting for the inevitable lecture. Not that it would do any good. Years of dealing with their mum had made them immune to anyone else who tried to reign them in. So he was baffled when he heard her say,

"Don't you think George should get the larger share? After all, he did most of the work."

The twins stopped counting, instead trading a look before goggling at Hermione.

"What are you talking about?" George asked in a strange voice. "Lee handled the money, and Fred and I pranced around the wall so they could guess who was who. Three way split, all fair."

"No, Fred sat on the other side the whole time. It was only you who ever showed himself." Hermione said calmly.

Lee threw his head back in a laugh. "I don't believe it! How on earth did you figure it out? I couldn't even tell them apart until last year, and sometimes I still get it wrong, they look so much alike."

Hermione shrugged. "Not really, if you look closely."

"You must be looking in strange places, Hermione, because they take great pleasure in showing us exactly how identical they are in the dorms." Yawned Harry, having been awakened by the noise.

Ron was interested to know the answer himself. Hardly anyone outside of their family could tell them apart on a good day, and it was near impossible when they made an effort to fool you.

Closing her book, Hermione looked from one twin to the other. "It's easy. Just look in the eyes. The person looking out of George's eyes will always be George, and the person looking out of Fred's eyes will always be Fred."

He could tell that his brothers were stunned. As much fun as they had tricking people, he knew that there was always a slight amount of hurt when people confused the two of them. Judging by the way they were now looking at Hermione, she had definitely gained a new level of respect.

Before anyone could speak, Hermione stood abruptly. "Drat. I finished my book, and forgot to bring another one. I'll be right back after I change it at the library."

Harry stood also, brushing the grass out of his shaggy locks. "I'll walk with you. I needed to get something to drink anyway."

The pair of them started off, and Ron moved to follow, but was pulled back by Fred's grip on his arm.

"You know, Ron, we may have given you too much of a hard time about her. She's actually wicked." Fred said pensively, George nodding along with him.

"Right. She's definitely got our stamp of approval." George added, slapping him on the back. "So, when it comes time for you to declare your undying love, we'll be there to help make sure that you don't bollock it-"

"Sod off!" He mumbled, shoving his brothers' arms from around him and trotting to catch up to his friends. Couldn't they go five minutes without being ridiculous? Still, the fact that they had taken to Hermione like that said a lot. It took someone really special to get the twins to acknowledge them. He grinned, as he fell into place next to Hermione. His brothers may have figured out how amazing she was.

But he had figured it out first. And, for reasons that he couldn't quite explain, it made him feel really good.

Hermione followed along, mulling over what she had just watched. It was true; around this time the twins had started being quite brotherly towards her. That didn't stop them from teasing her, or even always listening to her, but there was a new fondness to it, and they always became protective whenever she was in trouble. Not to the extent Ron did, but it was still appreciated. And Ron...he definitely wasn't in love with her right now, but the feelings he had for her were strong, just waiting to be pushed in the right direction. What that push may be she still didn't know, but the path to finding out was quite enlightening.

Following them inside, she found herself once more in the common room, and from the darkened sky outside the window, she could tell it was fairly late at night.

Ron was sitting in the common room with Hermione, the only sound the crackle of the fire in front of them. There was a somber air that neither one was showing signs of breaking. He supposed there was a time when the situation would make him uncomfortable, but now, it was just the opposite. With all of the strange things going on, Hermione's sensible nature had a calming effect. The recent attack on Colin had scared them both, and, silently communicating over Harry's head, they had hung back when their friend had gone up to bed.

"This is going to get really bad, isn't it." Hermione stated quietly, startling Ron with the suddeness of the sound.

He wanted to tell her that, no, things would be taken care of quickly and that they had nothing to worry about, but he couldn't quite bring his mouth to form the words. Maybe it was his natural cynicism, but he had never been one to sugarcoat things, at least not when he couldn't even fool himself into believing them.

"Yeah. Yeah, I reckon it is." He said steadily, belying the fear that tightened his chest.

They were sitting on one of the sofas their backs to each arm, facing each other with their knees drawn up. Hermione's light blue pajama set looked a size or two too big, while his ankles were left bare by the maroon and white striped trousers he wore. This position made it easy to talk in low voices, though the size of his feet made it impossible to keep from touching. Her worried eyes stared back at him, unsurprised by his words.

"Ron," she began slowly, "I don't know if it's the same here, but in the Muggle world, people who start off with animals, and then move up to smaller, weaker victims are usually considered-"

"Really sick. I know." He said thickly.

Oh, he knew, alright. The year before he had come to Hogwarts, one of the boys from the village had set a cat on fire. The twins had sprung into action, managing to put it out fairly quickly, earning both of them deep scratches on their arms from the pain crazed animal. Ron had tried to keep Ginny from seeing what was happening, but she managed to get a look, and he had had to hold onto her while she sobbed. She had insisted they take the poor thing home, and George had wrapped it in his shirt, the pitiful yowls that it let out the whole walk home the only sign that it was still alive.

Mum had been able to save it, though it lost half of an ear, and patches of it's fur never grew back. Surprisingly, it had been the twins that fought to keep it; Ron had asked them why. Fred had told him, surprisingly seriously, that the cat was a reminder. He and George loved to pull pranks, but there was a line between joking around and deliberately setting out to hurt something, and this was the result of crossing that line. George had darkly added that it was the first step down a nasty path, and Ron hadn't fully understood what they meant. He also hadn't understood why they had been forced to play close to the Burrow, with strict orders to watch Ginny, since she was the youngest.

He understood three weeks later. Three small girls in the village had gone missing, and their state when they were found, hadn't been...pleasant. the boy that had attacked the cat had been hauled off to some sort of facility, though no one had ever told Ron the full details. They hadn't really had to. He had a vivid imagination...and had quickly got over the resentment he had felt about being forced to stick with his sister.

"Exactly. Either the person who's doing this isn't entirely sane, or they're evil."

"Or both." He added, shuddering at the possibilities. The fact that he, as a Pureblood, was technically safe brought him no comfort at all.

"That, too. But what I really wanted to talk to you about was...Ron, what do you think of the voices Harry says he's been hearing? You said yourself that wasn't a good sign, even in this world."

Ron chewed on the ragged corner of his thumbnail. He had given this a lot of thought, and wasn't sure if he was ready for Hermione to point out any holes in it. Still, he could tell it was really bothering her, and if she didn't feel better soon, she would end up smothering Harry with her concern.

"It's not. In fact, it may even be worse than it is for Muggles. Magic can be dangerous enough as it is, but when a person is, um, unbalanced," he didn't think she'd appreciate it if he said barmy, "then really, really bad things end up happening until they're taken away."

Hermione looked indignant at this idea. "But it's not their fault! Surely, they could receive some sort of help that would-"

He shook his head impatiently. "Hermione, I'm not talking about people who get depressed, or who're a little off. I mean the ones that are dangerous to themselves and others, and either don't realize it of just plain don't care."

She backed down, seeing the logic in his statement. "Do you think Harry...no, I just can't believe that."

"I don't either. Look, think about it; weird stuff is happening that no one, not even Dumbledore can figure out. At the same time, Harry starts hearing things, something that's never happened before. Sounds too big to be a coincidence, doesn't it?"

Hermione stared at him thoughtfully for a long moment, then beamed. "That makes a lot of sense! That was some very good reasoning."

"You know, in spite of what you think, I can sometimes figure things out all by myself." He said sharply. Why did she have to sound so surprised? Did she really think he was that thick?

Her feet jerked away from where they had been resting between his, as if to put as much distance between them as possible. "I know that! I didn't mean-"

"Forget it. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?" He waved her explanations away. He didn't need her trying to make him feel better out of pity.

"Not really. Just that we need to keep an eye on Harry. You know how he is; he's likely to start doubting himself, and that's the last thing he needs to do right now. If you could...I don't know, make sure he doesn't get too depressed? Keep him cheered up?"

"Comic relief, you mean?" He asked dryly. Did she think he was one of the bleeding twins?

She swung her legs to the floor, pushing herself up. "No, I'm just saying that you're good at making people happy. Harry needs that right now. It's getting late, so I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night." He called after her faintly. He...was good at making people happy? What did that even mean? She had sounded like she thought it was a good thing, but he wasn't so sure. There wasn't anything really special about it. He couldn't even recall doing anything on purpose that would make her say something like that. Did he he make people happy? Did he make her happy? He had the strangest urge to follow her upstairs and ask her.

He shook his head to clear it. He must be even more tired than he thought. Jaw cracking from his yawn, he stretched, sliding off the couch and dragging himself up to his room, where he burrowed under his covers, careful not to roll over onto Scabbers.

Hermione repressed a shudder at the sight of the rodent, but her mind wandered to the previous conversation. Had Ron always taken her words that way? Surely, he had learned to see past her awkwardness along the way, and understand what she was trying to tell him? She was beginning to think he hadn't.

As he drifted off to sleep, the familiar blackness of his unconsciousness swept over her, before being replaced with the light of a new memory. The location was the same as before, only this time Harry was with them as well, all three of them at a small table in the corner of the Common Room. It was late, and both boys slumped over their essays dejectedly, trading silent glances every once and a while when they thought Hermione wasn't looking, each one pleading with the other to think of some way to get them out of working any more.

"You know, if you put as much effort into working as you do getting out of it, you'd be done by now." Came Hermione's voice from behind the book that was propped in front of her.

"How do you know we're not?" Ron shot back, more for the distraction than any real feeling of denial.

"Simple. Your quills haven't been moving for ages. And before you get smart, I can tell the difference between your scribbling and actual work."

"Oh yeah? What does 'actual work' sound like?" He asked, hoping he could duplicate whatever it was to throw her off.

Hermione peered over the edge of the book, grinning darkly. "Like blood, sweat, and tears."

Ron and Harry looked at each other. 'Scary.' They mouthed.

"I heard that."

"So, Hermione, how is the you-know-what-doing? Is it almost ready?" Harry interjected.

Dipping his quill into the ink, Ron shook his head. Hermione wouldn't let herself be distracted by something as transparent as that.

"As a matter of fact, it is. It's the right color now to add some of the last ingredients, so I'll do that tomorrow."

Too busy filing the way the information that she could be distracted by more advanced levels of schoolwork, it was a few moments before he made sense of what she was saying.

"How do you know? It's been days since we last checked on it." He pointed out.

She shrugged. "Since we all last checked. But I had to add a few things to it last night, so I went down after everyone had gone to bed."

He had no idea why, but a burning anger lodged in his chest. "Oh, you did, did you? Just trotted downstairs and back up again, all on your own?" He snarled.

Hermione bristled at his tone. "Yes, exactly. I wasn't aware that I needed permission. It's not like I can't take care of myself; I was perfectly safe."

Ron addressed Harry. "You hear that? She was perfectly safe. So you lent her the cloak, then?"

Looking like he would like nothing more than to slip away and let the two of them continue, Harry shook his head.

Ron swung back around to face her. "Let's see if I have this right; there's a nutter running around threatening to kill Muggle-borns, they've already Petrified Colin, and so you decide to take a midnight stroll without telling anyone, or at least using the cloak so you can hide? Why don't you just dangle yourself from Mrs. Norris' torch bracket and have done with it!"

He had got progressively louder, until he had ended the last sentence with a roar, causing her to take a step back. Most people would have been cowed, but not Hermione. Instead, she leaned forward on the table, arguing forcefully with short, clipped words. His head sank into his hands as he drowned her out, trying to marshal his thoughts.

She didn't understand how serious this was! She had only been in this world for two years, so there was no way she could fully grasp how dangerous it was for her. His dad had told him stories of some of the things blood purists did to Muggle-borns. The thought of anything like that happening to Hermione made his stomach lurch. He wished he was smart enough, clever enough to find the right words to convince her, but his anger and panic was making it hard for him to think.

"Hermione, he's right. You're a target right now, and it's probably a bad idea to wonder around the castle alone at night. If you need help, just ask one of us. Please?" Harry finally spoke, cutting her off in mid flow.

Hermione visibly softened. "Alright, if it makes you feel better. You can come with me tomorrow, since I have to go back early in the morning."

Ron snapped his gaping mouth shut. How was it that when he was worried about her, it just made her mad, but when it was Harry, she went along like a lamb? He sighed. Sometimes it was hard being the stupid friend.

Hermione let out a shriek of frustration, knowing she couldn't be heard. When Ron had pointed it out, she had realized she probably should have told them, but she couldn't let him get away with saying it like that. Harry had been polite, so she was able to back down without losing face.

Harry shook his head. "Sorry, but you two will have to go without me. Wood's called another early practice." He said glumly, obviously not looking forward to it.

"Why didn't you say so? You need to get to bed! No, leave it," she brushed him away as he began to clear away his things, "I'll take care of it. Just go get some sleep."

Knowing better than to argue, Harry ambled up the stairs, leaving Ron to help Hermione clean up. The silence made him uncomfortable, so he decided to break it.

"I know you had to do it, I just don't think you should take any risks that you don't have to, okay?" He offered, not in the mood to fight.

She paused, hand hovering over the book she had been about to pick up, and looked him in the eye intensley. "Sometimes you have to make sacrifices."

Ron was left speechless for a moment at the shock of having his own words thrown back at him. "Those were completely different circumstances!" He managed at last. "I don't want anything to happen to you-"

"And you think I felt any differently last year? Not so fun being on this end of it, is it?" She snapped, jamming the book into her bag.

He blinked. Was she serious? Had she actually been that worried about him?

"Hermione, can you just...promise to be careful?" He asked quietly, capping his ink bottle.

She shouldered her bag, moving around the table to stand beside him. "Only if you promise too."

He regarded her thoughtfully. Hermione kept her promises. He stuck out his hand. "Shake on it."

Taking his hand, they shook twice, breaking out into grins. The tension melted from the air, and, saying goodnight, they made their ways to their separate dorms. Ron wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but he was filled with an odd sense of...hope?

Whatever.

The important thing was, he had got her to promise, so she should be safer now. Of course, living with the twins had taught him a few tricks about lying, such as crossed fingers behind your back. Because if either Harry or her was ever in trouble, there was no way that he wasn't going to do what he could to stop it, no matter what happened.

Hermione smiled wryly as he opened the door and slipped inside. Trust Ron to be so brave and protective that he had totally overlooked the fact that she had been lying, as well.