Part iii: make sure your targets consider each other as potential romantic partners
Ron didn't exchange as much letters as he would have with his best friends this summer, mostly because Errol was too old to be making constant trips from Egypt to England.
He, of course, sent Harry a present for his birthday and checked in on Hermione. He was having the time of his life on his family vacation; the only thing that he had a problem with was that Scabbers looked as if he would drop dead any second.
Arriving back home was bittersweet; he missed the adventures and the tombs that he had seen but also felt a sense of nostalgia for the Burrow and for his day to day life. He made plans to meet up with both Harry and Hermione in Diagon Alley for their school supplies; it would be great to see them again.
Of course, he should have known that Harry would have a problem: the bloke didn't seem to be able to go a summer without something happening to him. This time he apparently lost control, and made his aunt inflate like a balloon.
"So, what's your punishment, then?" Ron asked, just after his best friend finished telling his story. The three of them were walking the streets of the Alley on their way to the Magical Menagerie.
"I don't have one," Harry shrugged. "The Minister actually was very understanding, said this wasn't the first time accidental magic causes something like this."
"I wouldn't be," Hermione interjected. "Everyone has accidents when they are discovering their magic, yours was just too strong and too reactive…but it sounds like she deserved it."
"I didn't know you were vindictive." Ron said, amused.
Hermione shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. They finally arrived at the creature shop, entering quickly and searching for the person at the counter. Ron, after greeting, put Scabbers on the wooden surface and started to explain to the middle age lady the problem.
"He's been like this ever since we got back from vacation," Ron said, gesturing at the nervous looking rat. "He hasn't eaten anything odd…I think."
"He might just be old, lad," The lady answered. "How old is he?"
"Twelve or thirteen years, give or take." Ron tilted his head, thinking.
"What?" The lady exclaimed. "That's—that can't be possible. Rats like this only live about five years, tops. It's unheard of, a rat living this long."
Ron's face got red from embarrassment. "Well, he's that old. Is there anything you can give me?"
While the old lady was searching for a vial of pepper up potion especially made for pets, the redhead turned around to make a comment to his friends. He realized that, in his explanation, both Harry and Hermione had walked to the other side of the shop and were staring at something.
Ron edge closer, and decided to listen in.
"Oh, look!" Hermione said. "He looks so cute. He's so fluffy."
"Uh, sure," Harry answered, looking unsure at the creature. From what Ron could see, it was a something with orange fur and a large, bushy tail. A cat, perhaps. He walked over and finally saw it: it was definitely a cat, but an odd one. It had a flat a grumpy face, as if he was slammed with a hammer head on, and his eyes appeared to the judging the three teenagers. Leaning against his cage door, the cat purred at Hermione.
"He likes me," Hermione giggled, pressing her fingers through the bar and nuzzling the cat. "I wonder how much it'll cost me to take him…My parents did tell me I could get a pet this year."
"Yeah, a pet, not a flat-faced, grumpy tiger." Ron blurted out. Harry snorted softly, but stopped when Hermione turn her head over to them and glared.
"I could give you a discount, young lady." The middle age woman said, coming over with a small vial that she handed to Ron. "He's been here for years, nobody wants him. He seems pretty smitten with you, though, so if you want him it'll give you a discount on your purchase."
"I want him!" Hermione smiled, and both the lady and her left with the cat's cage to the counter to make arrangements.
"That's the ugliest cat I've ever seen, mate." Ron commented, holding onto Scabbers and putting the potion on his pockets.
"He's got a completely flat face," Harry said, looking baffled. "I don't know how Hermione considers that cute, but I guess to each their own."
The walk back towards the Leaky Cauldron was tense. It seemed as if Crookshanks, the half Kneazle that Hermione had just bought, had a predator instinct for Scabbers. It the span of ten minutes the cat had already tried to escapes his owner's arms to leap at the half dead rat. Ron and Hermione entered the Cauldron bickering, while Harry was trailing behind them and trying to cool off the argument.
"I'm just saying," Ron scowled. "Keep that beast locked up, otherwise he's going to eat Scabbers."
"He's a cat, Ron, cats do that," Hermione answered, frowning. "And besides, why don't you keep Scabbers in a cage? One day you're going to lose him and I don't want to be the one you blame."
"Guys…" Harry sighed.
"If he ever goes missing, there's only one cat I'll blame." Ron hissed, and turned to go back to the room he shared with Percy. Harry called to him, but the redhead ignored him.
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The next morning was slightly better; Hermione had gotten a cage for Crookshanks to travel to Hogwarts with her, and she made sure to keep him there from the moment the left the Leaky Cauldron to the moment they would step inside the Gryffindor Common Room. Ron, also, had a tight grip on Scabbers himself, and the rat was looking more and more frazzled with each passing day. Hedwig was the only pet not in the compartment with them, as she preferred to fly to the school herself.
"Is he asleep?" Harry whispered, motioning to the man leaning against the window with his coat covering him almost completely.
"I think so," Ron answered in the same voice. "He hasn't moved at all since we grabbed this compartment. We don't even know who he is."
"He's Remus J. Lupin. Probably the new Defense Professor." Hermione said, also whispering. Harry raised his eyebrows, a silent question on his eyes.
"How do you know that?" Ron asked, baffled.
"It's on his suitcase, there," She pointed. "See? And he's an adult. The only available post on Hogwarts has to be Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Harry nodded. "Good, okay, brilliant…then I have something to tell you."
Harry explained everything that Mister Weasley had said to him, tying it with the little information that the Minister had given away on their first meeting in the middle of summer. Ron and Hermione listened intensely, occasionally stealing glances at the alleged new Professor and at the compartment door, to make sure nobody could interrupt or hear them.
"So…He's the man that betrayed your parents to You-Know-Who, then." Ron said, receiving a slap on the arm from Hermione.
Harry nodded, slightly lightheaded. "Yeah…and apparently, he's trying to do me in, now."
"You'll keep safe, though, right?" Hermione asked, looking nervous. "You won't be looking for trouble, right?"
"Of course not…but trouble usually finds me, doesn't it?" Harry muttered bitterly.
"Professor Dumbledore has to know about this," She answered, looking thoughtful but still slightly scared. "He has to have some security measures or something into place."
"Yeah," Ron nodded. "He won't let anything happen to anyone."
The train suddenly stopped, and the four habitants of the compartment jumped because of the force of the breaks. The weather suddenly got colder; cold enough to fog up the windows. Harry got up, opening the compartment door and looking outside; a lot of students were outside in the general hallway, looking confused.
"Nobody knows what's going on," The black haired boy said, closing the door and sitting down again. "Everyone's outside trying to figure out what happened."
"The track may have some issues, or were broken by something," Hermione theorized. "We stopped very suddenly."
The lights went out; darkness took over and Hermione gasped. Ron gulped.
"You guys okay?" The redhead asked.
"Yeah, I'm…fine." Harry answered.
"Me too." Hermione said.
A bump on their compartment door alerted them, and they turned to see what appeared to be a hand sliding open the door. Everything else happened too quickly; both Ron and Hermione witnessed as the…creature covered in black silk-like material got close to Harry and started to…inhale close to his face. The cold got so deep they could feel it on their bones, and Harry looked close to fainting.
Suddenly, with tremendous reflexes, alleged Professor Lupin got up from his resting spot and pointed his want at the creature, shouting a spell and making a brilliant white and blue light come out of his wand.
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"That was close…" Ron whispered, riding inside the carriage due to the entrance of the castle. "You good, mate?"
Harry nodded, still looking slightly shaken up but putting a brave face. "Yeah, I'm good, just took me by surprise."
"It was really scary," Hermione said. "I wonder what would've happened if Professor Lupin hadn't been there…or maybe he was there for that reason."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked.
"Well, Professors don't usually ride the Express, do they? Maybe he did because they knew Dementors would be making patrols." Hermione shrugged. "It just a thought, really."
"I think it's a good one," Harry scratched his chin. "You just might be right, really."
Ron nodded, but the carriage came to a stop before he could make his own comment. The three of them followed all of the students inside the castle, directly to the Great Hall. Just before entering, McGonagall stalled them.
"Miss Granger, Mister Potter, is you would follow me, please." She requested, turning around and walking off. Both of them gave a small wave to their redhead best friend and told him to save them some seats. Ron nodded, waved back, and walked inside the Great Hall.
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Late that night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Ron took the book out of his trunk and made sure his curtains were drawn all the way before sitting up, casting a quick Lumos, and reading the next chapter.
Part iii: make sure your targets consider each other as potential romantic partners
Here is where the fun begins! If you've follow the steps correctly, you've made sure they know each other and that they are compatible. The next step might be a little difficult, but nothing impossible!
If your targets already consider each other a potential romantic partners, then you are free to skip this step and go directly to the next chapter! If not, here are some tips on how to achieve this:
-Drop subtle hints about the other, and take note of how they react. Are they interested?
-Build up your targets to each other. Flatter their best assets, make remarks about their work, everything to awake the desire of the other target.
This step is the make or break of a match making process: if they do not consider each other romantic partners, or your targets are simply not attracted to each other, then it is advisable that you bail your efforts.
Ron sighed, but nodded resolutely. He had made a choice last year, and he was going to stick to it. Besides, the book said so itself…if they weren't interested, then that would be it.
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It took him about a week to work up the courage to put his loose plan into motion. He would start with Harry, of course—everything was easier with Harry and it would be good to see him admit his fancy after denying it two years ago.
Ron timed it perfectly, or so he thought: he made sure that only he and Harry would be in the Quidditch pitch at the moment, since all of the Gryffindor team had already left to rest and Hermione was busy researching something in the library. Thankfully for Ron, their bushy haired best friend had been even busier than previous years and had almost no time for them…it must have been because of her crazy schedule.
As he and Harry were walking back towards the castle, the redhead cleared his throat slightly and finally spoke up.
"So…Hermione, right?" He mentally cringed at how awkward he sounded.
Harry hummed. "What about her?"
"She's, you know…" Ron muttered, searching his mind for a compliment that wouldn't be too much or too little. "…very studious."
Bloody hell.
"Yeah," Harry snickered. "I know, and you should too, mate."
"Well," Ron hesitated. "She's—she's good looking…?"
Harry raised an eyebrow at him, and his cheeks got slightly warmer than before. "Yeah, I—I guess…you fancy her?"
Ron sputtered, and he winced. The plan was backfiring. "No! I don't! I was saying that for you, mate!"
"For me?" Harry exclaimed, incredulously.
"Yeah! Don't you think she's pretty or something?!"
"W—well, yeah! She is pretty!"
"Ha! So you fancy her!"
"I never said that!" Harry said, waving his free hand around.
"You didn't deny it! I win!" Ron exclaimed, victorious. "So, you fancy her! That's great!"
"Why are you being so weird about this?!" Harry asked, desperate for a change of topic.
"I'm just trying to have your back, mate! It's what best mates do!" Ron said, grinning. "So, when are you going to tell her?"
"There's nothing to tell, Ron, leave it." Harry muttered.
"Oh, please—" Ron's comment got interrupted by a familiar voice in front of them.
"What's going on here?" Hermione asked, walking over to them. Ron tensed up, praying the she hadn't heard their full conversation. Cornering Hermione was on the agenda for next week.
"Nothing!" Harry shrieked. "Nothing, nothing, Ron here is being a prat about one of my failed movements on practice today."
Hermione hummed, and turned to Ron. "You should give him a break. The weather is dreadful today."
Ron nodded quickly, braving a look at Harry to find his best mate's eyes glaring at him. "Yeah, yeah, I guess it's the bloody sky or something. I was just concerned you were losing your touch, to be honest, but I guess I have nothing to be worried about."
Harry glared at him one last time before huffing, and asking Hermione about her trip to the library, anything to change the subject. Ron walked with them, taking special note of the way Harry's eyes lingered on Hermione's face, and he mentally patted himself in the back: one target down, one more to go.
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Ron's intervention with Hermione didn't go as planned; well, it never even started, to be fair. He had chickened out the week after cornering Harry, and finally had worked up the courage to interrogate her when the Firebolt arrived.
It was new, shiny, and incredibly fast. It was the newest model, and Harry would be unbeatable in it.
Both boys were marveling over the broom when Hermione arrived, followed by McGonagall, who promptly observed the Firebolt and addressed the boys.
"Mister Potter, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to confiscate this broom from you until further notice." McGonagall stated, taking the object with on hand.
"What? Why?!" Harry asked, baffled.
"It came with no letter or signature. Do you know who sent it?" McGonagall asked, stern.
"No," Harry mumbled.
"Then it might be too dangerous for you to use it without having a Professor check it first. I promise you, if we find nothing threatening, you will have it in time for your next game. Thank you." With that, the Professor left the Common Room with the Firebolt on her hands.
Ron swirled around to face Hermione, scowling. "Why'd you go to McGonagall for?! There was no need!"
"I think there was!" Hermione answered, her face red from either embarrassment or in preparation for a fight. "There was no note! Professor McGonagall agrees with me—this could be sent by Sirius Black to try and kill Harry!"
The black haired boy turned to look at her, still in shock but his frown was growing by the second. Ron scoffed and spoke up again.
"Black is a wanted man! The Firebolt is the most expensive broom on the market right now! How exactly could he have bought the broom?!"
"He is a criminal, Ron! He'll have ways, I'm sure," Hermione exclaimed, turning to Harry and kneeling close to where he was sitting. "Harry, listen to me—it wouldn't be the first time you would be on danger while playing Quidditch, and you wouldn't listen to me—"
"—So you snitched to a Professor?" Ron sneered.
Hermione glared at him, but before she could retort she felt a hand on her arm. Turning back, she saw Harry looking at her with a frown and a glare.
"You should've told me." He said.
"Would you have listened to me?" Hermione countered weakly.
"I don't know," Harry said, honestly, but shrugged. "But at least I would've had a small warning before McGonagall came and took my best present of this year."
"I—I'm sorry about that, really," She said. "But I truly think it was sent by Sirius Black! I was trying to protect you."
Ron snorted, and Harry sighed. The black haired boy got up from the sofa and took his school bag, perching it on his shoulder.
"I need some time." Harry said, and went to his dorm room. Ron threw on last glare to Hermione, who glared back with suspiciously misty eyes, and the redhead followed his best friend.
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It had been a couple of week since the fight. Hermione was keeping busy by the way she never seemed to be in one place too long, and Harry and Ron had taken to avoiding her whenever the three of them were in the Common Room at the same time. The three of them were in an odd place lately, as it had been only two days since McGonagall had returned Harry's Firebolt, informing him that there were no curses, hexes or otherwise malicious spells on it.
Both boys were playing chess when Harry spoke up, hesitantly.
"You know…" He said. "Hermione looked really tired today."
Ron snorted. "She's probably spending too much time in the library, or snitching to Professors."
Harry hummed. "She didn't look good, Ron, at all."
Ron opened his mouth to crack another joke or another comment, but stopped when he analyzed the tone of his best friend. He sounded…subdued, and worried, and for the first time in weeks the redhead wondered if he, too, should be worried about their bushy haired best friend.
"Really?" He asked, moving his knight and winning the game. Harry sighed, rubbing his face.
"Yeah," Harry muttered. "She didn't look good, and I'm concerned. We should talk to her, clear this up—honestly, I was really mad before but I can see where she came from. The only issue is the whole 'not-telling-me-first' thing."
Ron nodded, frowning. "She took your favorite present of this year from you, mate, are you sure you're over it?"
Harry shrugged. "She didn't have bad intentions, did she? I think we should talk to her."
"Okay," Ron nodded, and he had to quietly admit to himself that he had been holding onto his anger far more than he should have. "We'll talk to her, 'cause you miss her."
"You don't?" Asked Harry, rising an eyebrow.
"Of course," The redhead nodded. "But I'm not the one who fancies her, am I?"
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn't comment on the subject. This, in Ron's mind, was another victory and got him closer to fulfilling the book's instructions. They cleared up the chess pieces and board, and just as they were putting it away, the portrait hole opened and Hermione walked inside.
Ron threw a look at Harry, nodding at the bushy haired girl as she collapsed on a chair in front of the fire place, taking out a book, two pieces of parchment and a quill.
"What?" Harry whispered, frowning.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Go talk to her, you prat. She's right there."
"Why only me? We both should go to her."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "But she has a soft spot for you. If you go first, you'll save me from a stinging hex or something."
Harry groaned quietly, throwing a look at their best friend before nodding in resolution. "Fine, okay, I'll go first, but you better be close by."
"Promise." Ron said.
The redhead watched as his best friend approached Hermione. It was different than their other interactions; it was stiff and overly polite, and Ron mentally winced at the awkwardness he could feel coming from the two of them. He scratched his neck, deep in thought, and got closer to the fireplace without his best friends noticing.
Hermione was speaking. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Harry, but I'm not sorry I did what I did. I really thought it was extremely suspicious and decided it was better safe than sorry."
"I know," Harry nodded, wringing his hands. "But it felt as if you didn't trust me, you know?"
"Hmm," She answered. "I promise that was not my intention…I guess I could've handled it better. I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," Harry said. "I shouldn't have ignored you these last weeks. It wasn't good of me, I know. I'm sorry for being a git."
Hermione shrugged, a small smile on her face. "You were a git, but thank you for the apology…Just, don't do it again, please."
"Promise." Harry smiled softly at her, and Ron decided that this was the best moment to intervene with his own apology. He walked quickly towards them and sat down on the floor.
"Well, now that you're not as angry as before," Ron said. "I come with my own apology."
Hermione narrowed her eyes, looking between both boys. "Did you planned this?"
"No—" Harry said.
"—Yes," Ron interjected, looking amused. "We did, but only because we wanted to be successful in speaking with you with actual words and no punches or hexes."
Hermione huffed, crossing her arms, and Harry shoved Ron fully to the floor. The redhead groaned, threw a glare at his best friend, and finally turned towards Hermione. His ears were red with embarrassment and he was seriously contemplating running to his dorm room to stall this conversation.
"So, uh," Ron muttered, dumbly. "Alright, here it goes—I'm sorry, Hermione."
"And?" Harry hissed to him.
"And what?" Ron whispered back, confused.
"Say what you're sorry for, you prat, how else is she going to know?" Harry mumbled to him, watching Hermione from the corner of his eye. Ron threw a look at her direction—she was frowning and narrowing her eyes at them, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.
"It's Hermione, she knows everything." Ron whispered to his best friend and received a scowl in return. The redhead cleared his throat nervously and nodded at his best friend, turning his attention back towards the girl.
"Right, yeah, okay," He muttered, embarrassed. "I—I'm sorry for being such a prat about the Firebolt…and about ignoring you these past few weeks." He turned to Harry, and the black haired boy offered a thumbs up.
"Thank you, Ron." Hermione said, smiling. "We agree never to do this again, then?"
Harry nodded eagerly, but Ron scrunched his face up. "A deal's not a deal if we don't seal it with a snack. Be right back!"
"That's not a real thing, Ron!" Harry laughed. The redhead grinned back at them, taking the stairs two at a time and quickly reaching the boy's dorm room. Intent on finding that last chocolate frog on his trunk, he stopped cold when his bed came into his view.
It was ruffled, and there were red stains on the white linen sheet. Getting closer he examined the scene, taking the brown fur on his hands. Something clicked on his mind.
Hermione's annoying little tiger. Scabbers. Missing. Blood.
He grabbed the fur and the sheet, and stumbled down the stairs, his face red with anger as he jogged towards his two best friends.
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"So you don't think her little monster did it, then?" Ron scoffed.
"I didn't say that," Harry countered. "Crookshanks might have eaten Scabbers, it's a possibility. But you didn't have to yell at her in front of the whole common room!"
"Her cat ate my pet!" Ron exclaimed, red in the face. "I think I have every right to yell at her! And she didn't even apologized!"
"She didn't have anything to apologize for!" Harry spluttered. "You've lost Scabbers how many times?! He might be around somewhere, but you're not looking for him!"
Ron felt heat crept up his neck, and he scowled and turned away from his best friend. Harry's words had a smidge of truth to them; he had lost Scabbers quite often before…but Crookshanks was still a danger, or so he thought. He hadn't seen the orange little monster since the whole fight last week, and Hermione was now more irritated with them than before.
"I know she feels bad," Harry said, calming down. "I know that, and maybe she should have been more open when you said Crookshanks was the culprit, but you didn't help things by starting another fight. We just resolved one, Ron!"
Ron grumbled, hands deep into his coat as both teenagers walked down the stone path to Hagrid's hut. The gatekeeper had sent them a short note asking to meet them, and they had readily agreed.
"You're not going to say anything?"
"Yeah," Ron said, frowning. "How do you know she feels bad? You've talked to her, then?"
"Well, yeah." Harry answered.
Ron smirked, raising en eyebrow at him. "Alone? Just the two of you? I see."
Harry blushed, and he punched his friend's shoulder slightly. "You're mad at her and yet you're still with this?"
"I can be mad at her and still be interested in your love life, mate," Ron answered. "You could say I'm…invested in you two."
"Why?" Harry exclaimed, still red in the face.
"Just because," Ron shrugged. "So, you're going to ask her out? Hogsmeade?"
Harry rubbed his neck, nervous. "I shouldn't. I mean, I don't think she'll say yes—I'm better off forgetting about this."
No way in bloody hell. I'm so close!
"I don't think you should!" Ron exclaimed, desperate. Harry gave him a suspicious look, and the redhead coughed before continuing. "I mean, she might fancy you, too! You'll never know! She might want a boyfriend."
"Yeah, doesn't mean the words boyfriend and Harry go hand in hand for her." Harry grumbled. Ron conceded, reluctantly, mostly because he hadn't had the opportunity to corner Hermione about her possible fancy of Harry.
The conversation tapered off after that; Ron was reformulating his plans on his mind, with Ask Hermione about her feelings at the top of his mental list. Harry was quiet, perhaps contemplating the fact that Hermione could, perhaps, maybe like him.
Their meeting with Hagrid was just getting started when there was another knock at the door: Hermione. She entered, throwing the two boys a curious but irritated look, and sat down in the round table inside the hut.
"Well, now that you're here, Hermione," Hagrid rumbled, slightly slurring his words. "I think they owe you an apology."
The gatekeeper grabbed a small box from a shelf, turned it and caught a wriggly animal with his giant hand. Ron gasped, it was Scabbers! He was alive!
"You should take more care of your pets, Ron," Hagrid said, transferring the rat into the redhead's awaiting hand. "Otherwise you might find yourself short one rat."
Ron held Scabbers tightly; he looked frazzled and like he would bolt if the redhead relaxed his grip for a second. A cough snapped his attention away from his pet, and he turned to the girl.
"I think Hagrid was right." She stated, scowling at him.
"We're sorry, Hermione," Harry intervened, smiling tentatively. "…Again."
"Hmm," Hermione didn't stop looking at Ron, though she did threw a small smile at Harry. Ron, absently, confirmed to himself that the steps of the book would be easy with these two.
"Y—yeah, sorry," Ron said, embarrassed. "But your cat's a menace—I stand by that!"
"Agree to disagree." Hermione said. The three of them looked at each other, a silent agreement to speak of this later being made. They enjoyed Hagrid's tea and rock cakes, even if they weren't completely edible, and left the hut feeling lighter than they had been these past few weeks.
And that's where the Grim surprised them.
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"Y—you were there," Ron spluttered, pointing at the front of his bed. "And now you're—you're there?!" His hand pointed at both of his best friends, standing right in front of the door to the Hospital Wing. "I just saw you here second ago!"
"Don't be daft, Ron," Hermione smiled tiredly, and she sounded out of breath. "It's not possible for us to the two places at once, is it?"
Ron frowned, mouth hanging open in confusion at her words. Harry, on the other hand and sounding just as out of breath as Hermione, laughed softly. His eyes were alight as he threw a look at his bushy haired best friend, still smiling as he nudged her shoulder. Hermione smiled mischievously at him, nudging back and leaning into him.
Ron smiled inwardly; it seemed that they had spent some good time alone and had come out of it with inside jokes.
"You good, mate?" Harry asked, walking closer to the redhead's bed. Hermione followed, and Ron smirked slightly at the way her hand squeezed Harry's arm before letting go reluctantly.
"Yeah," Ron answered. "Just a Grim bite, nothing Sirius." He chuckled, and both his best friends laughed with him, happy that the events of last night were over.
They talked and had lunch together, until Harry was beckoned by Dumbledore to have a conversation. Recognizing the gold opportunity that he had been handed, Ron finished his food in record time and scrutinized Hermione with his gaze.
"What's wrong?" She mumbled, looking at him in concern.
"Hmm," Ron said. "Should I tried to be subtle or should I be blunt?"
"Blunt comes to you naturally, so," Hermione shrugged.
"Okay," Ron cleared his throat, and gathered all the courage he could. "Harry fancies you and he thinks you don't fancy him back so I need you to ask him out to Hogsmeade or something."
Hermione choked on her drink spilling some of it on her cloak. Ron smiled amusedly, thinking that he would finally get those two together and be done with the book.
"W—what?!" Hermione coughed. "What the hell, Ron?"
"What? You asked me to be blunt!" Ron exclaimed. "So?"
"So what?"
"So, you fancy him so go out, just the two of you." Ron spoke slowly, accentuating the words.
"I don't fancy him, Ron." Hermione huffed, but her cheeks were red and she was avoiding his eyes. "And he doesn't fancy me."
"I know I'm daft but I'm not stupid, Hermione," Ron grumbled. "I have eyes and I know how to use them."
"Really? Could've fooled me because I'm sitting right here denying your claim and yet you're still stubborn about it." Hermione hissed.
Ron shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I'm not the stubborn one here, am I? Harry already admitted it, you should too."
Hermione froze for a second, before passing her hand through her wild locks. She was still blushing, and now there was a nervous light on her eyes. "Harry wouldn't admit that, there's nothing to admit."
"Oh, please—" Ron stopped talking, reciting the words from the book. He didn't need to get them together yet, did he?
No. The chapter only mentioned that he had to work to get them to notice the other. It seemed as if they would never get together, but perhaps that was Ron's own fault; he had driven a wedge between the two this year because of the fights, and the slow process of his best friends was his doing. With that, he sighed and decided to change his tactic.
"Fine, fine, there's nothing to admit," Ron said. "But still, Harry would be…how do the girl say it…Boyfriend stuff?"
Hermione snorted, and the little uncomfortable tension that was starting to develop from the conversation dissolved. "Boyfriend material?"
"Yeah, that!" Ron exclaimed. "He is that, isn't he? You don't think he's cute or something?"
"Am I the one who fancies him or is it you, Ron?" Hermione asked, smirking.
"He's not my type, Hermione," Ron sighed, overly dramatic but with a smile on his face. "He's more yours, I reckon, isn't he?"
She shrugged, and Ron noted that her blushed had intensified since the start of the conversation. The door opened, and they both turned their heads to watch as Harry entered the Hospital Wing again, a frown and forlorn look on his face. Before Ron had any time to react, he felt Hermione get up from her chair and grab his shoulder.
"But yes, he's cute and he's definitely boyfriend material." Hermione whispered to him, before softening her face and walking over to the black haired boy, instantly asking him what was wrong.
Ron was torn between being worried about his best mate and internally celebrating another victory of him. Another target down: time to move on onto the next chapter.
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I have to admit that I thought of erasing the whole Firebolt/Crooshanks fight, but it was too big of a plot point to ignore, and it gave me space to work on Ron's character and solidified his role on this work. Next Year will be more hands on than this one, I promise, and the Yule Ball will definitely be important. Also, you'll see more of Harry and Hermione's interaction, since Ron will have the role of spy to make sure he's doing his meddling correctly.
Thank you for your reviews/follows/faves, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story.