"Mr. Weasley, may I ask why you have not completed your homework?" an irritated Slughorn asked.

"Er- what homework?" Ron asked, breaking out of a daydream in which Hermione had kissed him the way she'd kissed him in his dream, except much, much longer.

"The one about the stinkcap potion."

"Oh. Er- I just- er."

"Why didn't you do it, Weasley?" Slughorn said dangerously.

"I was... sleeping."

"You were sleeping?" Hermione and Slughorn said at the same time.

"Why on earth would you be asleep?" Slughorn demanded.

"Did you get ahead of me in the dream?" Hermione questioned angrily.

"You two are having the same dream?" Harry inquired, shocked.

"Yes, of course they are!" Slughorn said impatiently.

"I think I did... but that depends on what was the last thing you saw."

"The last thing I saw was the time that-"

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I implore you to have this discussion sometime, but please do not do it in my potions classroom. Mr. Weasley, I understand that this dream can be very exciting, but that is no excuse for abandoning your homework. I'm sure all of the teachers will back me up when I say that it is no use to waste your time questioning what could have been."

"Then what are we doing with these dreams?" Hermione asked, agitated.

"The other teachers won't agree at all, Professor. See, the only homework I haven't been doing is yours."

"Well... why?"

"Because... well... what do you think? My life in the dreams is so much better then doing the bloody homework you've assigned us!"

"Mr. Weasley!" Slughorn said, shocked.

"I know about your scheme." Ron whispered fiercely.

"Scheme?" Slughorn said fearfully.

"Scheme?" Hermione said blankly.

"You two are having the same dream?" Harry asked again. "Seriously? And you still haven't-?"

"Mr. Weasley, I would like to see you after class. You may have a pass on your homework. Do not let it happen again."

Hermione spun around and looked at Ron, her eyes boring into him.

"What scheme?" she asked. "Is Slughorn... bad?"

"No, he's not a death eater or anything." Ron whispered, waving his hand nonchalantly.

"Well then what?" Hermione asked as she furiously cut up the cucumber they were going to be using for a beauty potion.

"It's nothing." Ron muttered, taking her bits of cucumber and tossing them into the cauldron. "Where are the oranges?"

"What scheme, Ron?"

"Aren't you supposed to be not talking to me?" Ron inquired innocently, grabbing a piece of mermaid fin and plopping it into the potion.

Hermione continued to glare at Ron throughout the lesson, obviously trying to get him to break without talking to him. He attempted the ignore the way his skin was prickling at her gaze and desperately tried to extinguish the little flame in his stomach that told him she might like him back. What was the point of hoping? He'd just be crushed... he was convinced that there was no way it could ever happen, even though there were a lot of signs indicating that it could. When the class was dismissed, Ron obediently went to Slughorn's desk, anger starting to brew inside of him again.

"Now then, Mr. Weasley. I would like to know what scheme you are referring to, if you please."

"The bet you have going with the other teachers. You put money on me and Hermione getting together by the end of the year."

"And you don't want that?"

"No! Well, I mean... no, of course not. I have no romantic feelings for Hermione what-so-ever!"

"Mr. Weasley, your feelings for Miss Granger are quite obvious. And, aside from that, I know what your dreams are about and you just told me you like them better then your real life. I'm afraid we have no secrets anymore."

"Brilliant," Ron muttered. "Still, what a stupid reason to give us a class assignment that drives all of us crazy!"

"It's character building." Slughorn said placidly.

"Have you seen Neville? He's bloody loosing character!"

"Do not swear in front of me, Mr. Weasley. I understand that you're angry, but-"

"No but! You've bet on my love life! You've interfered with my love life! And that is messing up my general... life. Don't you get how hard it is to be sixteen and in love with your best friend?"

There was a sudden intake of breath, and Ron turned around just in time to see a large amount of bushy hair whipping around the corner, running away. Slughorn, looking complacent, said,

"Well, go after her, Weasley."

Torn between the desire to run in two different directions, Ron finally took the cowardly one and made his way back up the Gryffindor tower. He knew that Hermione would be at dinner, and he didn't think he could possibly face her. She had just heard him confess that he fancied her! Not only that, but he had actually said that he was in love with her. How could this possibly be good?

No, wait. How could it be bad? Hermione knew that he loved her, and she probably loved him. Or else why would she have spied? Actually, Ron could think of several reasons why Hermione would have spied that had nothing to do with a secret passion she might be harboring for him. And he didn't have any proof she felt that way towards him. But if she did, didn't that mean that they could be together? No, it didn't. Ron had Lavender. And it she didn't like him, it would be quite awkward. Their friendship might be damaged beyond repair. Ron knew for a fact that he wouldn't be able to look Hermione in the eye anymore, and she'd probably feel awkward around him. But- then- wasn't their friendship already damaged beyond repair? Maybe this wouldn't make it worse. Maybe this would just make it last... longer.

Thinking that he would probably have to figure out how to get himself to actually fall for Lavender, Ron said the password and climbed through the hole. Inside was a beautiful, bushy haired girl, curled up into a little ball, staring at the fire.

"Hermione?" Ron said without thinking. She turned around, her face crumpled in defeat, a few tears on her cheeks. "What's... what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, standing up. Ron began to get flashbacks of Hermione yelling at him majestically, and prepared himself for a fight. "What's wrong? What's wrong is the fact that you are total and complete arse!"

"Er- I see your point there."

"What? Are you agreeing with me?" Hermione asked, her voice getting more and more high pitched.

"Yes." Ron whispered, feeling a bit terrified. Her hair was flying all over the place, her eyes were on fire from her anger, her lips were looking especially red in the light of the common room.

"What is wrong with you, Ron?"

"I know! I know, I'm a total git-"

"Damn straight you are!"

"I promise, though, I won't let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. I know you don't reciprocate, and that's okay-"

Hermione stopped him in his tracks by letting out a scream of fury.

"I don't reciprocate? Are you blind, you stupid arsehole? Are you mental?"

"Probably."

"You have feelings for me and you're putting me through all this crap with the whole Lavender situation? What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"I-"

"I'll have you know, Ronald Weasley," Hermione said, shaking with fury as she brushed past him and over to the girls' staircase, "That I do not love you back."

Crushed. That was how Ron felt. He felt crushed. Hermione had just taken her foot and stomped all over every dream he had. Suddenly, he felt like there was no hope for the future. Suddenly, he felt the urge to become a death eater. Suddenly, he felt the urge to kill everybody in sight. Luckily, no one was in the room. But still. He hurried up to his room, watched by a shaking Hermione, and slammed the door shut before leaning on it and letting silent tears roll down his cheeks. He'd accidentally put himself out there, and he'd purposefully been rejected. At the moment, Ron Weasley couldn't think of anything in the world that could be worse. Maybe the cruciactus curse was this painful? It could drive people insane. Ron was being driven insane. He felt like grief was eating up every inch of his body, and he didn't know how he would be able to face his potion. He didn't want to dream about happiness. When he woke up, he'd just be more upset. He stayed there, on the floor, staring blindly ahead until the door wrenched open.

"Ron?"

"Huh?"

"Er- one of the portraits told me what happened."

Ron looked up to see Harry standing above him, looking very sympathetic.

"It hurts." he whispered finally. Harry put his hands in his pockets and looked down.

"I know," he said. "It'll get better. It did for me with the whole Cho fiasco. Although that's not the same."

No, it's not. Ron silently agreed. You weren't in love with Cho. She liked you back, she just couldn't be with you. She didn't outright reject you.

"Thanks," he said instead. "I think I'll get started on my homework."

Harry watched silently as Ron went down to the common room where he'd left his bag when he dropped it. It was still sitting by the portrait hole, seemingly untouched. He dragged it back up to his dorm and took out his potions book first. As he opened it, a slip of paper fell out. Ron, not even having the energy to do anything but lift a finger, considered leaving it there, on the ground. But he wanted to put off doing his homework anyway, so he bent down and picked it up. Not recognizing the slip, he quickly unfolded it. Inside, it tiny, familiar writing, it read,

I didn't mean it.

He knew it was from Hermione. That wasn't the question. The question was, what hadn't she meant? There were several options. She'd called him quite a few names, such as a git, a prat, an arsehole, and mental. Did she not mean one of those? Or was it the last thing she said to him, the thing that had been eating him up all afternoon?

I'll have you know, Ronald Weasley, that I do not love you back.

He winced at the words. He winced at how much they had hurt him. He winced at how much he still wanted her. Why couldn't he bloody let go? She obviously didn't like his type. She didn't like the type of guy that was a gingery looser with too big a family and too many failed dreams. At almost seventeen. Bloody hell. He was sixteen, and he was already a failure. What was wrong with him? He'd probably end up spending the rest of his life working in Fred and George's shop while Harry and Hermione went on to become some sort of ministry super couple. The people would eat that up. The golden trio would slowly become the golden duo, and the third member would fade into the back, totally and completely forgotten.

What was he for them, anyways? Harry was Harry fricking Potter. Hermione was the smartest witch of her age. They didn't need him for anything. They had it made even without him. What did he do for them? He weighed them down, that was what. He made them laugh when they needed to be focusing. He made them explain things to him when they could be miles ahead. He was the only one who was stopping the golden trio from being completely made of Hs. Honestly. Why did he have to have been named Ron? Maybe that was why Hermione hated him! Maybe it was because they were Harry, Hermione and Ron, instead of something cool, like... Harry, Hermione and Han.

Oh god. Now he was just being ridiculous. What did it matter that his name didn't start with an H? It wasn't like he was going to be spending his life with Hermione, anyways. It wasn't like he was going to be in the way of Hermione getting that perfect life. Harry and Hermione Potter, with their two gorgeous children, Harriett and Herman. The H Potters, Harry, Hermione, Herman, and Harriett. It was sickening.

This thought was making Ron thoroughly miserable, so he completed his homework in something like a trance, then pulled on his pajamas and climbed into bed, almost forgetting to take his potion before falling asleep.

"Ron, we have to go. It's time for the game." Harry said, trying not to look nervous.

Hermione turned to Ron and stared into his desperate eyes.

"You go down, Harry," she said, not taking her eyes off of Ron's. "He'll be right behind you."

Harry nodded and quickly left the great hall. Hermione looked around. It was pretty full, but no one was staring at them. Her eyes once again landed on the badges on the Slytherin's chests, and she felt a heart wrenching need to make Ron feel better. She put one of her hands on either of his cheeks and kissed him as passionately as she could muster.

"You will be amazing, Ron," she whispered against his lips. "I know you can do it."

"I can't," a slightly woozy Ron said, defeated. "I've been rubbish at practice."

"I know you can do it!" Hermione insisted, kissing him again.

"You do realize that everyone can see us," Ron muttered, pulling back.

"Let's face it," Hermione replied, lifting an eyebrow. "They're all too afraid too talk to Harry, anyways. It doesn't really matter."

"True." Ron said, and he went in for a kiss again. Then he stood up to go. Before she could, stop herself, Hermione called out his name, and he turned around, puzzled.

"Just... don't forget. Whatever the Slytherins throw at you during this game... you're amazing, alright?"

"Alright." Ron said, cracking a smile. He left the great hall with a bit of a swagger in his steps, and seemed to walk a bit straighter then he had been a few minutes ago. He stayed in his happy little bubble all throughout his walk down to the pitch, and in the changing room, and as he walked out to the field and kicked off of the ground. As soon as he was up in the air, he spotted Hermione. Her eyes were sparkling in excitement, and she had clipped her hair back in a way he loved. She seemed to know that he was looking at her, because a second later her eyes met his and she smiled prettily at him. Ron suddenly felt relaxed and at ease, like he could do anything. He could do anything, couldn't he? If he could get Hermione Granger and have her stick with him for a year, couldn't he do anything? So when the ball started speeding towards him, he blocked everything out and just concentrated on it. And he got it. It flew to the other end of the pitch and into Katie Bell's waiting arms. Later, after his happy bubble started to burst a bit, he started to hear the Slytherins singing something. Puzzled, he looked over at Hermione, frowning, but she shook her head pointedly, and Ron understood that he was not to listen to the song. Instead, he thought about Hermione. About everything wonderful she'd ever said to him, and that was what got him through the whole Quidditch game without hearing a single verse of whatever song his opponents were singing.

"For what it's worth, you could embarrass me, but you couldn't ever completely embarrass me. There's always a little part of me that knows what a great guy you are even when you're being a bigger prat then Percy."

Save.

"So, if you absolutely need to, you can call me Mione. But not anyone else. Don't do it around Harry, or he'll want to call me Mione, too."

Save.

"I think I might be a bit too... giddy. That's what happens when the thing you've been wanting for two years happens. I'm not sure how much longer I could have waited without bursting, in any case."

Save.

"I would have waited until we were seventh years if I had to, Ron."

Save.

"Ron, you've saved me countless times. Give someone else a chance. He's never been my knight in shining amour. If you understood that, you'd be so much better off."

Save.

"Because you're so much better then Viktor Krum any day."

Save.

"Ron, you prat, wake up! I love you too!"

Save.

By the time the game was over, the crowd was on its feet, cheering for Ron Weasley, the great Gryffindor keeper. He landed on the ground, his face bright with happiness, and laughed when he saw Hermione speeding across the field to him, her hair streaming behind her, her eyes twinkling at him. She threw her arms around his neck, but didn't kiss him. They both knew that they couldn't be a couple when Harry was around.

"You were amazing!" Hermione squealed, looking up at Ron with her arms still around his neck. "How did you possibly do that?"

"I don't know... I just... you kept me calm. Every time I got nervous, I looked over at you, and when I was trying not to hear what the Slytherins were saying, I just thought of all the stuff you've said to me over the past year that made happy." he whispered, blushing. Hermione just grinned up at him until Harry came up to them and said,

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

Both of them glanced nervously at each other until Hermione laughed lightly and said,

"Of course not, Harry, wherever would you get a silly idea like that?"