A/N: Hello! Shockingly, I actually had some free time to work on this chapter, and I decided to post it for all my lovely readers! Thanks so much to all of you for your ideas and for your reviews (especially my anonymous reviewers who I can't thank individually.) Please keep it up!

And on we go to the first day of Week Two!

Impossibly Insufferable

Chapter Nine

Week Two, Day One

Harry woke up with a headache the morning of the second week. He forced himself to stand, and stumbled into the bathroom.

Once there, he rummaged through the cabinets and found a headache potion, which he swallowed. A moment later, feeling much better, Harry walked to Ginny's bed and shook her gently awake, before throwing a pillow at her brother on the sofa.

Ginny stirred and looked up at Harry. "Hey," she murmured, pushing herself up slightly to kiss him. He smiled.

"Good morning- it's the first day of the second week, you know," he said against her lips. Ginny smiled and pulled back.

"That's right- I'd almost forgotten!" She stood and glanced over at her still snoring brother. Rolling her eyes, she pulled out her wand.

A moment later, George was upside-down. "What that hell?!" he shouted, flailing around. He looked around and saw his sister. Ginny smirked and released him so he fell onto the sofa.

"Morning, Georgie," she said. "Come on, breakfast time. And then entertainment."

"How about entertainment first?" asked Harry, already plugging in the camera. "It's already eleven!"

Quickly, George and Ginny took seats at the kitchen table as Harry hit the "on" button.

))((

Ron

I woke up at nine-thirty or so the morning after my not-date with Hermione and glanced over at the small calendar Percy had given me for my birthday last year. I had marked it with a countdown to the last day of the dare.

"Whoa," I muttered. "Day one of week two? We've made it through a week?" Shaking my head, I grabbed some fresh clothes and ambled down to the bathroom to shower and change.

While I showered, I thought of the not-date. It had been weird to watch Seamus flirt with Hermione, and even weirder to have Lavender flirt with me. And then to have both Neville and Lee mention that they thought we were going out…. Well, something was obviously going on.

When I was done with showering and getting dressed I went downstairs, glancing around the kitchen for Hermione. Strangely, the kitchen was empty. I moved down the hall, glancing into the sitting room and knocking on the bathroom door.

Must not be up yet, I thought. That was surprising- Hermione was notorious for not being able to sleep late. Sighing, I went back into the kitchen and looked in the fridge for something to drink. I'd been having more tea than I knew what to do with, so I ultimately decided on pumpkin juice. Pouring it into a glass, I sat at the table.

By eleven, I was bored out of my mind. I grabbed another glass, poured some more juice into it, and went up the stairs to Hermione's room.

The door was closed, and I knocked. There wasn't an answer, so I slowly pushed the door open and peeked in.

Hermione was sitting up against the headboard of her bed, reading a book. The spine of the book, which was facing me, read "Joan of Arc". Next to Hermione on her night table was a wireless, playing some sort of Muggle music. She was humming along, biting her lip as her eyes scanned the page. I stepped into her room.

"Joan of Arc, huh?" I asked. She squeaked and clutched her heart.

"Ronald, you scared me!" she gasped. I smiled and handed her the glass.

"Sorry," I said, not sorry at all. Hermione rolled her eyes as I sat on the edge of her bed. "Who's Joan of Arc?"

Hermione's eyes lit up and she scooted around so she was sitting on the edge of her bed next to me, balancing the book in her lap. "Joan of Arc was one of the first female leaders of her time. She was basically a knight and won all these battles for the French army in the early fourteen-hundreds," she explained. I blinked.

"So what happened to her?" I asked.

"Um, she was burned at the stake when she was nineteen because of her religion. She's a Catholic saint now." Hermione glanced up at me and smirked. "Pleasant, huh?"

"Well, yeah, it's shocking." I made a face. "Why on earth would you want to read something like that this early in the morning?"

"Because," Hermione smiled, standing to open her curtains, "Joan of Arc is amazing! I mean, she practically started the whole 'anything guys can do girls can do better' mentality."

"Girls can do just as well," I corrected. "And men still have the advantage over women physically."

Hermione snorted. "Only you would focus on that aspect of a conversation about Joan of Arc." She sighed and then, glancing at me added, "And only some men have the advantage." I gaped at her.

"Are you implying something, Granger?"

"Maybe, Weasley," Hermione retorted, grinning. I stood.

"Fine, you asked for it," I said, and rushed her. Hermione squeaked and tried to run around me, but with my long arms I easily apprehended her and pulled her close. She squirmed, trying to hit me, but I grabbed her wrists and pinned them together with one hand. Quickly, I bent and hooked my other arm around her knees, pulling her legs out from under her and hooking them over my shoulder so she was suspended upside-down against me.

"Ron! Put me down!" shouted Hermione, wriggling against my grip. I laughed.

"Do you give up?" I asked, tightening my grip around her legs.

"I give up!" she cried. I sighed, but decided to pity her.

"Very well, I shall spare you," I said magnanimously. I let go of her hands so she could prevent her head from hitting the ground, and then released her legs. Panting, Hermione sank to the ground. I looked down on her, smirking. "Ha. I wi-"

Hermione threw herself forward and grabbed my knees, pushing me backwards. I fell with an "Oof!" as the air whooshed out of my lungs. Hermione crawled forward, straddling my waist triumphantly.

"Ha! I win!" she laughed. "Proof that girls can be stronger than guys!"

I tried to slip out from under her, glaring. "You caught me by surprise. That was hardly a fair fight." Hermione laughed and leaned forward to put one hand on either side of my head, more effectively trapping me.

"I think you're just being a sore loser," Hermione whispered, grinning. I scowled as Hermione shifted her weight- and then froze as I realized where, exactly, I was.

From the shock in Hermione's eyes, she had just come to the same realization. I stared at her and she stared back. Her eyes were a deep, sort of chocolate-y brown, and her face was flushed pink from laughing. Then, quickly, I glanced at her lips.

They were pink. She put something on them, I decided, meeting her eyes again and shifting slightly under her. They look nice. Very… kissable.

What?!

"Hermione," I murmured, trying not to sound as breathless as I was. "You're still sitting on me." Hermione broke eye contact with a start.

"I know, but you're so comfortable," she laughed, and quickly rolled off me onto the floor. I stood and smiled awkwardly at her. Hermione smiled awkwardly back.

"Well, um..." I shifted from foot to foot. "I'm in my room if you need me."

"Sure," Hermione nodded. I quickly left her room, trying to think of anything but Hermione's pretty pink lips.

In my room, I looked around, trying to decide what to do. I could clean some more, I guessed. Maybe under my bed.

I knelt and peered under it, grimacing at the sheer amount of junk that had accumulated there over the years. Slowly, I started working, pulling out a chewed up Quaffle (thanks, Sirius), half a dozen sugar quill wrappers, an old newspaper from third year sometime, an old blue tee-shirt I'd been looking for, a sock, and a mitten, among other things.

I threw out everything except the tee-shirt and the Quaffle. That I kept, for the memories.

Back in our fifth year, it had been - summer, I guessed. Harry, Ginny, Hermione and I had been playing catch in one of the rooms of Grimmauld Place, trying to relax. Sirius and Remus had stepped into the room and watched us as Ginny tried to throw the ball over Hermione's head, Hermione threw backwards to Harry, Harry bounced it off his head to me, I juggled it on my knees and then kicked it to Ginny, over and over again, each of us trying to be the most creative.

After a little while, though, I started to get bored. The Quaffle, one we'd found lying in one of the hallways of the house, was a little deflated and was lousy for playing catch. As we were about to admit defeat and succumb to boredom and stress again, Sirius laughed and leaped across the room, changing into Snuffles as he went. Instantly he had the ball and went rocketing out of the room down the stairs.

Thus had begun the chase that lasted the rest of the day as Snuffles led us on an animagi-hunt around the house in an effort to get the ball back. Remus, George, and Fred even got into the action, racing around just as enthusiastically to try and get our useless ball back.

Finally, at eleven-thirty that night, Sirius exited a bedroom to hand me and Harry, who were hunting together, a rather chewed up Quaffle with a grin that made him look about twenty years younger. Remus came up behind us and grinned, clapping his best friend's shoulder, the two looking much like I imagine they must have as young Marauders.

It had been a good day.

Suddenly, a scream interrupted my reverie. Dropping the old Quaffle I grabbed my wand and raced outside. "Hermione? Hermione?!"

There was silence. I raced downstairs, shouting Hermione's name. Then, softly, I heard sobbing from the direction of Bill's old room. I shot down the stairs and into his room to see Hermione, tears streaming down her face, her wand pointed at the shaking wardrobe.

"Hermione?" I asked. Hermione turned and whimpered, her eyes overflowing as she flew at me, hugging me tightly and burying her face in my shoulder. My eyes widened. "What's wrong?" I asked, patting her back.

"B-boggart," she whispered. "I heard it banging around and thought maybe it was Pig, you know how he always gets locked in closets and stuff, and it was a boggart, and it scared the hell out of me," she whimpered. I winced. If Hermione was saying hell, then she was definitely upset.

"Back up, then, I'll get it," I said, pulling out my wand and gently pushing her behind me. Hermione obliged, readying her wand in case I needed help.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Ready," Hermione murmured, his voice shaking slightly. I nodded and flicked my wand at the wardrobe.

It flew open with a bang and into the room emerged a huge spider, complete with clicking mandibles and furry, probing legs. Hermione squeaked and the spider's beady eyes focused on her, slowly starting to change into Hermione's boggart shape.

"No!" I hissed. "Riddikulus!" The spider paused, its edges sort of fuzzy as it stopped changing into Hermione's boggart. "Riddikulus!" I snapped again.

That was enough, and the boggart disappeared with a small pop. Hermione heaved and sigh of relief and sank to the floor, clutching her heart. "Thanks, Ron," she whispered. I smiled slightly and squatted next to her.

"You all right, then?" I asked. "What scared you so much, anyways? This is very unlike you."

Hermione bit her lip. "Just a bad memory…" She shuddered and I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving her an awkward, one-armed hug.

"It's okay, Hermione." I stood and helped her up. "Listen, you go rest upstairs, I'll bring you some tea later, okay?"

Hermione nodded and left Bill's room, heading upstairs. Sighing, I stretched and then moved into the kitchen.

The clock (not Mum's old one, she had thrown that one out after Fred died,) read three in the afternoon. I had spent a longer time cleaning up than I had thought. I reached into the cupboard and grabbed a mug and started boiling water on the stove.

When it was done, I brought the tea up to Hermione's room, only to find she had dozed off on her bed. I smiled and put a warming charm on her mug before setting it on her night table. Then I pulled one of Ginny's blankets off her bed and on top of Hermione before tip-toeing out of her room.

Once in my own room, I dozed off as well, wondering if I should bother waking up to make dinner.

I didn't.

))((

Ginny, Harry, and George were all starving. None of them had wanted to leave the camera screen for more than a moment and had only had the chance to grab an apple or banana during breaks in the action.

Now, Ginny stood and stared boiling water to make spaghetti and George and Harry, under her direction, began making Mrs. Weasley's famous sauce. An hour later, the three sat at the table and began eating.

Midway through the meal, George glanced up at Ginny and Harry with a mischievous look on his face. "Even though it seems Ronnie and Hermione are well on their way to becoming a couple, I just realized that there's one person we didn't get in on the action."

Ginny raised an eyebrow as she swallowed her bite. "Who?"

Harry grinned at George. "You mean Viktor, don't you?" he asked, his eyes shining with laughter. George nodded.

"Exactly. I think I'm going to send him an owl, just to get a little trouble started… and I happen to know he's nearby visiting his grandparents at one of their many residences," George explained. Ginny smirked.

"You've had this planned from the very beginning, haven't you?" she asked. George laughed.

"Of course!" He got up and grabbed some parchment and a quill. When he was done, the letter said,

Viktor,

This is George Weasley- I met you at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. I was wondering if you would be adverse to meeting with myself, my little sister Ginny, and Harry Potter at the enclosed location to discuss some mischief-making.

Thanks,

George

George enclosed the location of the tent and quickly sent Rowan off with the letter. Smiling in a self-satisfied manner he sat back down and nibbled at his pasta. Ginny rolled her eyes and took her empty dishes to the sink. Harry smirked and did the same, George following a moment later.

It didn't take much longer for Harry to doze off, and Ginny followed, curling up next to him on the sofa, her head on his shoulder.

George walked around the sofa and smiled down at the two, showing a tenderness that only Fred and Ginny (when she was very little) had ever seen. He gently pulled a blanket over his sister and his friend before stretching out on Harry's bed.

A/N: Sorry for any mistakes- I've been really busy/stressed in these past couple of days.

Also, if I got anything wrong about Joan of Arc, I'm sorry- I'm not quite sure how reliable the Internet is on that subject.

Oh, and I'm not trying to make any sort of statement about religion or anything, Joan of Arc was just a good way from me to bring up the whole "anything guys can do girls can do better" thing.

Review!

))Riiko Shea((