Hermione was stifling sobs on her bed in Ginny's room. She had been thinking a lot about her fight with Ron lately. She hated when they were fighting, which admittedly was more than half the time. Ron was just so stubborn, and she always had to prove her point. She was always right, after all. "There you go again," said Ron's voice in Hermione's head. "You always have to think you know everything, don't you?"

Hermione shook her head and pressed her head into her pillow, crying harder. Most of this was her fault, wasn't it? She wished she could go apologize to Ron, but she knew he was much too angry at her. As her sobs became louder, Hermione had to suppress a wail so she didn't attract too much attention to herself.

Apparently, it was a bit late for that. There were footsteps out in the hall. Hermione, however, was much too busy bawling to know or care. There was an apparent hesitation in the footsteps before Ron entered the room.

Ron wasn't sure what his face looked like when Hermione saw him. It may have looked cross, because Hermione looked up, sniffed, then began to wail. Ron took a deep breath and walked over to her, patting her very awkwardly on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron said, his voice rich with guilt and shame. Hermione was weeping so hard she couldn't speak. Ron sat on the bed next to her and pulled her into a hug. Hermione's sobs subsided somewhat and she gave him a very wet kiss. After a few seconds, they pulled apart because Hermione had begun crying again.

Ron took her face in his hands until she stopped crying. "Hermione," he said. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm too stubborn, I know. Remember that whenever we fight it's always my fault, okay? Always."

Hermione looked confused. "Oh," she said "Okay."

Ron apparently had a sudden boost of energy because he began furiously snogging his lover. They moved to a horizontal position and stayed consistent for what felt like days.

After about five hours of snogging and other interactions, Hermione pulled away and said to Ron with authority, "Ronald, we need Christmas cards."

Ron stared at her for a full minute with the same puzzled expression. "What the bloody hell is a Christmas card?" he asked finally.

"A Christmas card, Ronald Bilius Weasley, is a card that muggles or groups of muggles, such as families, give to their friends and relatives around Christmas time. They normally say something nice inside, such as 'Happy Christmas,' or whatever you want."

Ron was still confused. "But…it's February…"

"Yes, but normally, Ronald, people do them in advance."

"This advance?"

"Yes, Ronald, this advance."

"Well," Ron challenged, "We're not muggles, so why would we do that?"

"Do you have a problem with people trying new things?" Hermione asked defensively.

"Well, no, but…this is gay!" Ron proclaimed.

Hermione did something Ron didn't expect; she began to cry again.

Ron stared guiltily at his hands. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I—"

Hermione didn't want to hear the rest of what he had to say. She began screaming at him through her sobs. "RONALD! LEAVE! NOW! GET OUT!"

Ron looked fearfully at his naked body.

"YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT; LEAVE!"

"But…my clothes—" Ron protested.

But Hermione was beyond angry, though she wasn't quite sure why. "WELL TAKE THE SOCKS IF YOU LIKE THEM SO MUCH," she bellowed, shoving him permanently out the door followed by her splintering sock drawer.

Ron was incredibly confused; Hermione had never really blown up quite like that before, at least not that he remembered. It was normally a lot more gradual, and over something just a bit more significant.

If there was one thing he knew, however, it was that he would not be going back in there any time soon. So, he covered himself in Hermione's socks at random and hurried downstairs for a snack.

Ginny saw him first. She and Harry were talking with one another in the living room. "Ron, you look ridiculous!"

Ron simply nodded in agreement and fixed himself a sandwich. Harry and Ginny went over to talk to him and got caught up examining the variety of socks all over his body. Harry found a rather inappropriate sock, which was x-rated. "Let me guess, Hermione?"

"Yeah, she told me to leave and wear socks instead of my clothes…"

"Which…" said Ginny, "you obviously took off because… I think we all know why!"

Ron glared at Ginny. "And don't pretend that you and Harry don't… do it… all the time!" he shouted.

"Not as much as you do!" retorted Ginny.

Ron began mocking her as Hermione came downstairs. "Ron," she said, approaching him, "I'm sorry. I just get a bit freaked out sometimes because I feel the need to be right about everything. Friends?"

"Friends?" screeched Ron. "Friends?"

"What I meant was…is everything okay between us?"

"Yeah, Hermione," said Ron, hugging her. They proceeded into the kitchen where Hermione drank some pumpkin juice and Ron just ate another sandwich.

"Geez," said Harry, "they are the most dramatic couple I have ever seen."

"Yeah," said Ginny, speaking very loudly. "When's the wedding?"

There was the unmistakable sound of someone spitting juice out of their mouth and then a loud, "WHAT?"

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other, muttered, "Ron," and then started laughing hysterically.

"WHEN IS THE WEDDING?" screamed Ron, running out of the kitchen, pumpkin juice dripping down his chin. "VERY FUNNY, GINNY! HILARIOUS! I OUGHTA—"

Hermione cut him off with a kiss. After a few seconds, they broke apart and Ron began to yell again. Hermione slapped a hand to his mouth and said, "Save it, Ronald. It could happen you know."

She winked at him and walked upstairs. Ron mouthed 'Merlin' at Harry and Ginny who were still laughing and then rushed upstairs after Hermione.

Upstairs, Ron had finally caught up with Hermione and began snogging her like there was no tomorrow. Mrs. Weasley was walking down the hallway with her belt of cleaning materials, when she heard a great deal of noise coming from Ginny and Hermione's room. "Great," she muttered to herself. "What could it be now?"

She pushed open the door, expecting to find her garden gnomes, who had been acting up lately, causing the noise. She gasped at the sight she saw. Ron and Hermione were rolling around on the floor, snogging while on top of each other. "I thought this would never happen," she muttered to herself, while walking over to the couple. "Now, this is why I'm not sure about you two."

Ron and Hermione broke apart and looked up. They were blushing like crazy. Ron looked like he was about to explode. He shrugged while Hermione quietly said, "Hello Mrs. Weasley… would you like some tea?"

Ron nudged her. "I thought you were the smart one," he said.

"Honestly, Ronald, I am the smart one. I got twelve owls. Oh my god…." Hermione trailed off. "It's February 24th, isn't it?"

"Yeah, so?" asked Ron.

"Oh yes, Ronnikins," said Mrs. Weasley. "You're eighteenth birthday is coming up!"

"Well, I'm already eighteen," said Hermione.

"Stop bragging," said Ron, hitting her in the arm.

"Ronald, that hurt!" she said.

Uh-oh. He knew that if she was already calling him 'Ronald' things were getting rough. "Well, I wasn't paying attention because…" he looked around the room for an excuse, "… this wallpaper is too bland."

"I didn't even know the word 'bland' was in your vocabulary, Ronald. This wallpaper is fine. Your mother picked it out, so if you insult the wallpaper, then you are indirectly insulting your mother!"

"You can't insult the wallpaper!" shouted Ron. "It's an inanimate object! How can you insult something as stupid as wallpaper?"

"Well, Ronald," said Hermione, as Mrs. Weasley watched in awe, "If there was no such thing as wallpaper, we would have to use mostly paint, which pollutes our environment. Either that or the walls would be bland."

"THAT," shouted Ron, "IS WHAT I WAS SAYING IN THE FIRST PLACE! THIS WALLPAPER IS TOO BLOODY BLAND!"

"Well Ron, I think that you shouldn't judge wallpaper by its appearance. Have you ever heard of the Muggle saying, 'Don't judge a bloody book by its bloody cover'? Except there's not as many 'bloodies' but I'M JUST SAYING 'BLOODY' BECAUSE I'M BLOODY MAD AT BLOODY YOU!"

"Well that's a typical Brit, cursing with 'bloody' every day! Geez, Hermione, you're mental!"

"Well Ron, if you're insulting me saying I'm a Brit, you're basically insulting yourself as well. Indirectly, of course. Oh wait, you're a Brit too! I didn't think you knew that! Of course you didn't because… let me think… you're an idiot! A bloody idiot!"

"Hermione, just shut it already, we know that we are compatible, so why are we even arguing! We know that we're going to end up together, so JUST SHUT IT!"

"Ronald, that was an if-then, statement! Can't you tell something fake from what's logically realistic! Yes, I agree with you that we are compatible, but if you decide that you don't enjoy arguing with me, then you might go off and argue with…lets say…LAVENDAR BROWN and then you'll be snogging all over the place like fish out of water, so then I'll end up with the 'Bulgarian Bon-bon' Victor Krum, according to Rita Skeeter, who we never even really liked!

"If Harry and Ginny get married, and then we do, Rita will be writing all of these crude and false articles about all of us that she would practically be our own personal stalker for Merlin's sake. Ronald, just be quiet and let me finish my speech. The point is, this wallpaper is not too bland. It may be, but your own mother picked it out and the second main point is that it is extremely rude to insult someone indirectly, even if you have been insulting him or her for eighteen bloody years! I DON'T BLOODY CARE!"

Ron was staring at Hermione, who had obviously gone up in flames. "Oh my god," he said. "I can't wait to see what happens when you're…" he trailed off, seeing that his mother was about to freak out if he said the last part of his sentence. "Never mind."

He stormed out of the room.