Hello and welcome! I've had this idea stuck in my head for days and it just wouldn't leave me; I know it's been done before but I thought I'd give it a try. Let me know if you like it! It'll have a total of 7 chapters, but this is the only one I've written so far, though I'm feeling very inspired and may have an update soon!

Enjoy!

part i: let them get to know each other

Ron Weasley had only known Harry Potter and Hermione Granger for a few months, but he already knew that the three of them would be joined at the hip for many years to come. Sure, Hermione was bossy and studious, but she was kind enough to help him with homework and she was loyal and reliable. She was also brilliant, to the point of her being slightly scary.

Harry was brave, kind, amazing at Quidditch and a bit of an idiot, to be honest—but so was he! They got along great, all of them, even if sometimes comments were made and opinions clashed. It was part of friendship, anyway—at least, that what his parents had told him whenever he asked.

The whole Quirrel mess had just solidified what Ron had known since the first time the three of them had hung out: it would be difficult to get rid of either Harry or Hermione, or vice versa, because they had gone through something none of the other kids had, and that would bond them for years to come. It wasn't as if he wanted to get rid of them, anyway; they were his friends, best friends, even if he sometimes was too thick headed about the way he said things.

He had found himself on a bed in the Hospital Wing after the whole game of chess—apparently, Hermione had dragged him out of there and had come face to face with Dumbledore himself, who had gotten help before going for Harry.

Sitting up on his bed, Ron scratched his head close to one of his injuries; it was itchy and it hurt but he was fine, all things considered. Hermione was laying on a bed next to his, more alert and with fewer injuries—just a few scratches and bruises, and she was exhausted.

"Don't scratch that, Ron, you'll hurt yourself." Hermione said, applying some of the salve that Madam Pomfrey had giving her a few hours prior.

"It's just bothering me a lot," Ron muttered. "I landed on it, you know?"

"Yes, I know, I was the one who dragged you out of there, remember?" Hermione huffed.

Ron hummed. "Yeah, yeah—thanks for that, by the way."

Hermione nodded, but otherwise didn't speak. Her eyes were firmly on the bed at the other side of the Hospital Wing, where Harry was sleeping peacefully. He had scratches all over his body, though the one on his forehead was the grimiest looking. He had been sleeping for the past two days, thanks to some odd occurrence with You-Know-Who's spirit that had left him exhausted.

Ron looked at his best friend in worry, and his eyes jumped back to Hermione. She, too, looked concerned. He stopped scratching his head and turned fully to her.

"He'll be fine, you know?" He said. "I don't know, it would be pretty odd if he were to die right now."

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked. "Don't say things like that!"

"It's the truth!" Ron answered. "He's going to be fine, you'll see."

Hermione nodded, murmured thanks, and they both went back to being silent and staring at their best friend laying on his bed. After what felt like hours, Madam Pomfrey came bustling out of her office, her wand ready on her hand.

"Alright, Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, let me run a few spells on you and then you'll be ready to leave," She said, waving her hand over both of them.

It took only a few minutes, but both teens were changed and ready to go. They stopped for a few moments at Harry's bed, now taking a good look at him.

"We should bring him something," Hermione said. Ron turned to look at her as she waved her hand on the empty bedside table. "Flowers, or candy, or cards."

The redhead nodded. "He'll like that. He likes chocolate frogs, I think. And I know of some magical get well cards that are really funny looking, maybe he'd like them."

"Where are you going to get them? I doubt they sell them here." Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. "Fred and George can make them themselves, they're into that kind of thing. I'll just ask them."

"Alright, tell them thank you from me, will you? Now we should go, we can still make it to Charms."

Ron groaned, but otherwise follower his friend out of the Hospital Wing.

"Oi! Fred! George!"

Both twins turned around to look at Ron as he ran to them, raising their eyebrows. They were currently in an abandoned broom closet, which was used as their base of pranking operations. Ron had grabbed their attention just as they were opening the door.

"What do we have here, Fred?"

"It seems to be our younger brother, George, if I didn't know better I'd say he needs something."

"I do, actually," Ron panted. "I need you to spell some get well cards for me. They're for Harry."

Fred and George nodded slightly, grabbed the younger boy's shoulder and threw him inside the little room, closing the door and addressing him.

"Oh, yeah, we heard he was on the Hospital Wing," Fred said. "Any idea when he's going to be let out?"

"Not really," Ron answered, shrugging. "Everyone's waiting until he wakes up. Hermione's with him right now, actually."

"And what will you give us in exchange?" George asked.

"I won't tell Mum about that time you spelled my arse to bounce and threw me off my bedroom window," Ron snarked. "Good enough for you?"

The twins turned to look at each other, a silent conversation passing through their eyes. Ron huffed, and looked around the broom closet. It was small, smaller than some, but it was enough for the twins' pranking planning and ammunition. Seeing that they were still busy debating, the younger redhead walked towards one of the shelves. There were broken prototypes, potions, and some books. Ron snorted softly, and fingered the spines until he found one that oddly grabbed his attention.

Seven Fail-Safe Ways to Match Making

Ron grabbed the book and took it out, turning to look to Fred and George. They were still looking at each other, but were now whispering about the apparent pros and cons of the younger boy's bargain. Ron used his body to hide the book, and opened it on one of the first pages.

Part I: let them get to know each other

Match Making hinges on the compatibility of two people; it is the very soul of this delicate art, and one way of knowing if there is a spark there is to simply let them get to know each other. If you are looking to match two people, then here is some advice:

-Ask general questions when in the presence of both of your targets; they will voice their opinion and you will get a front row seat to their interaction. If it seems positive, continue asking questions.

-Leave them alone for a period of time, but stay close enough to observe. What are they doing? How are they behaving? Note all of this, it will become important on the next few stages.

This is the easiest step of the Seven Fail-Safe Ways—

"Alright, Ronnie, you win," Fred said. Ron jumped slightly, closing the book and turning around.

"We'll spell those cards for you," George continued, before looking at what was on his younger brother's hands. "What is that?"

"Nothing," Ron squeaked. "I, uh, say it on one of your shelves and was just reading it to pass the time."

"Ah, yes," Fred sighed. "We thought we had stricken gold with that book, but it's all rubbish, to be honest."

"Really? Sounds pretty straight forwards to me." Ron turned over the book on his hands, looking at it from every angle.

"Maybe, but it doesn't work," George shrugged. "You can take it if you want, it'll free us some space on the shelves. But don't let Filch see you with it—we took it from him two years ago."

Ron was about to decline, and leave the book on the shelf again—but something stopped him. There was a sense of familiarity to the words he had read, so he nodded.

"Alright, yeah, uh, thanks."

"Oh? Ronnie is taking the book?"

"You offered!"

"Well, yeah," Fred snickered. "But we didn't expect you to take it, you're too young to be thinking about this…have a witch you fancy?"

Ron's face blushed so hard it almost matched the color of his hair. "No, I don't! I just want to know what is says, okay?!"

The twins shrugged on perfect sync, chortling. Ron huffed, and hid the book under his robes, intent on going to his room and hiding it beneath his bed. He scowled at his brothers.

"Not a word about this," He hissed. "And have those cards ready soon, okay? I don't want Harry to wake up with nothing. Plus, Hermione would be mad at me."

"Yeah, sure, sure," Fred chuckled. "Get out of here, then, we need to work."

Ron didn't need to be told twice, and he walked as fast as he could out of the broom closet and towards the Gryffindor Common Room.

He couldn't get the book out of his head for the next few days; he finished reading the first chapter, only a few pages long and very basic in terms of what information to get. Ron still couldn't shake the feeling that there was a reason why he was so interested in the book—he didn't fancy anyone! And if he did, he wouldn't go to this book for that.

Everything became clearer on the day of the Leaving Feast, when Harry finally woke up. Ron ran through the halls along with Hermione after McGonagall had giving them the news, intent on greeting their best friend.

They arrived at the Hospital Wing in mere minutes, panting and looking everywhere. Harry, propped up on pillows, grinned at them, surrounded by balloons, candy and cards.

"Ron! Hermione!" The black haired boy beamed. "Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine, Harry," Hermione answered as she and Ron made their way, now more clam, towards their friend's medical bed. "Are you okay? You've been out for days!"

"She's right," Ron interject. "It was kinda scary, mate, not gonna lie."

"I'm just fine," Harry said. "Dumbledore told me everything that happened. I'm just dying to get out of this bed, to be honest."

"You don't have to wait long," Madam Pomfrey's voice made the three of them snap out of their little bubble. "I'm here to check up on you one last time and release you. Just don't go and get yourself hurt again, is that clear?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey."

By the time the Leaving Feast had arrived, the trio was back together again and joking while waiting on the food. Ron, unwillingly, recalled the book's words as he watched Harry and Hermione talk about some Muggle moving picture.

"It's a really good movie, Harry," Hermione smiled. "You should watch if you have the chance."

"I hope I do," Harry sighed. "But I don't think I'll get it. Mind telling me what happens?"

As Ron listened to what he assumed was the evens of the movie—which, to be honest, sounded barking but then again, he was a wizard—he felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head.

Harry and Hermione were doing what the book described, weren't they? Talking about things they had in common…voicing their opinion…getting to know each other…

Ron shook his head wildly; what was he thinking? The book had gotten inside his head, that's for sure…but he had to admit, his best friends fancying each other wouldn't be the end of the world. But it was also possible it was nothing; they were kids! Young! They could just be trying to be better friends. There was no reason to bring the book into this.

The redhead put his thoughts and the book out of his mind, and proceeded to devour all of the food on his plate.

He reread the first chapter of Seven Fail-Safe Ways to Match Making before going to sleep on the night of the Leaving Feast, unable to leave it be. He cursed slightly—he had a feeling this would haunt him for a few months. There was just something about the book, and Harry and Hermione that just clicked, but he refused to acknowledge completely.

Getting on the Hogwarts Express to return to King's Cross, the redhead thought that maybe the part of his mind that was considering something between his two best friends wasn't as barking as he thought it was.

"Ready to go home, Harry?" Hermione had asked.

"I'm not going home, not really. I am home." Harry had answered.

By the way Hermione smiled sadly at their black haired boy, Ron got a feeling she had some kind of superior understanding of what Harry meant; he, himself, tried to, be he couldn't fathom why Harry would like to spend his summer in Hogwarts grounds—it was school! Still, he smiled at them both, and went to save a compartment.

While Hermione was changing clothes inside, he and Harry were standing guard outside the compartment, talking about all the chocolate frogs cards that the black haired teen had acquired from all the get well candy he had received.

Ron, impulsive as he was, decided to bite the bullet and ask his best friend the question that was burning in his mind.

"Say, Harry, do you fancy Hermione?" Ron whispered on his best friend's ear, looking back at the compartment door to make sure it was still closed.

Harry spluttered, dropping his famous wizards and witches cards. He bent down to pick them, and Ron spied the heavy blush his friend was wearing when he straightened himself up.

"W—what was that about?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, I just want to know, really." Ron answered, shrugging.

"No, I don't fancy Hermione, Ron." Harry answered, still blushing but now fighting to get it under control.

Before the redhead could say more, the compartment door opened and Hermione beamed at them, telling both of them to change quickly while she kept guard. Ron had the impulse of asking her if she fancied Harry, but he stopped himself; they were good friends, best friends, but he wasn't sure he and Hermione were at the stage where they asked each other those type of questions.

Back at King's Cross, ad after a brief meeting between his parents and his two best friends, he hugged both Hermione and Harry, the three of them locked in a three way hug. He stepped back, and his eyes spied as Hermione's hand lingered on Harry's shoulder.

"So, you'll write, then?" He asked them both. Hermione nodded, beaming. Harry, nervously, swept his hair backwards, messing up further.

"I'll try, I promise, but I'm not sure if I will be able to," Harry threw a wary eye towards the barrier between Muggle and magical stations. "I should go. I'll miss you guys, see you next year!"

Harry was gone in a matter of moments, and Ron said one last goodbye to Hermione before grabbing his mother's arm and feeling the familiar sensation of Apparition.

Late that night, Ron sat on his bed staring at what he now dubbed at the cursed book. Even with Harry's denial, he still couldn't shake the feeling that the book would come in handy in the future. With that, he sighed and hid in beneath his bed, intent on ignoring as much as he could.

He wrote to Harry and Hermione, telling them that he was back and what his plans for summer where. He asked them to write back when they could; he already missed them, actually.

He watched as Errol took off into the night, throwing one last look at the book's hiding place before climbing on his bed and surrendering himself to sleep.