Disclaimer: Okay, it's not mine, it's all hers. The design of Hermione's bedroom belongs to my friend Kris, and even though I have her permission to use it, I still want to add it in here. Not that it matters, she won't ever read this... Anyway. And that's all I got to say 'bout that.



Anyway. I'm so sorry this has taken so long. I was suffering from extreme blockage of the writing arteries, and I needed to go away to Fiji for a few weeks to receive treatment. So it really wasn't my fault. I mean, Fiji is pretty tropical, and more than a little remote, so there weren't any computers around. Ah, what I go through for the readers... It was truly horrible. One can only take so much of the tanning on a deserted beach thing for so long, right?



By the way, drop me a line sometime, will you? E-mail, Instant Message, whatever. I'd love to talk to you, especially if you have helpful suggestions. I need them!



B Bennett left a review saying that in the last chapter, the POV switched around a little unexpectedly. Thanks a bunch, B, I went back and fixed it! See, reviews like that are what we writers need!



Dedicated to Melanie, for kind words and even kinder criticism. Without you, I wouldn't have had the confidence to do what I did, and even though you'll never read this, I just want to say that I love you. Even after all of the current history with You-Know-Who, I still do. TigerZebra for always, and never forget the crackling toast. Or I'll kill you. ;)



~**~**~**~**~

Christmas morning...



Harry woke up on Christmas morning with anticipation in his stomach. As this was only his fifth time dealing with this feeling, it was still a little new and unusual.



Ron, already up, was sitting propped against a wall, an open book in his lap. Harry rubbed at his eyes, but the image didn't go away.



"Who are you?" he said in a voice that contained more than a little suspicion. "And what have you done with Ron Weasley?"



Ron looked up, startled from the book. He was uncomprehending for a moment, but then looked down at the book in his hands. "Very funny," he said, rolling his eyes. "You slay me with your incredible wit sometimes, Harry. Merry Christmas to you too." Ron paused, throwing him a sidelong glance as Harry stretched. "I can read, you know."



"Of course you can read," said Harry, "I've just never actually... seen you at it."



"Ha. Ha, ha. And also, ha."



Harry raised an eyebrow. "Where did you get a book from, anyway? Don't tell me you brought it from school."



"Harry, Hermione lives in this house. There are enough books around here to fill a library." Ron tossed the book aside and stood up from the floor, where he'd been sitting, leaning against a wall. "Besides, it's kind of fun to read a Muggle book."



"Ron Weasley, saying that reading a book is fun... I never thought I'd see the day!"



"I'm sorry to have to say this, but you sound like Hermione." Ron looked at his watch. "It's... eight thirty. We should go wake her up, don't you think?"



Harry and Ron walked the short distance down the hallway to Hermione's bedroom door. Once there, they stopped and looked at each other awkwardly. They hadn't been in her room yet. They'd never even been in the girl's dormitory at school.



"What should we do?" whispered Harry.



"What do you mean, what should we do? Knock, you git," Ron whispered back.



"Why do I have to knock? You knock!"



After a few more moments in which both of them did a lot of sullen glaring and uncomfortable shifting, Ron raised his hand and lightly rapped on the door with his knuckles a few times.



"Who is it?" asked a muffled voice from inside.



Ron cleared his throat. "Can me and Harry come in?"



"'Harry and I,' Ron."



"That's what I said."



"Come in."



Harry and Ron exchanged a last look, and Ron pushed the door open.



The room was decorated in varying shades of purple. The walls and ceiling were a light lavender color, and the curtains and bed sheets matched, both covered in a print of white and purple flowers. The carpet, a pleasant cream white, covered the ground beneath polished furniture made from a pale wood. The bright morning sunlight streaming in through the window made everything in the room appear to glow. The entire room was spotless, and Harry observed without much surprise that an extremely large bookcase lined one of the walls. He also noticed Hermione's program from the Quidditch World Cup pinned to the wall next to a scarlet flag with the Gryffindor lion emblazoned upon it. As Harry watched, the lion let out a snore.



Hermione was lying on her bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in her lap. She was wearing her pajamas and bathrobe.



"Hi. I was just reading," said Hermione, holding up the book.



"What is it about this place? Is there something in the water?" wondered Harry aloud.



"What are you talking about?"



"Nothing," said Ron, "he's talking about nothing. Merry Christmas."



"Merry Christmas," said Hermione. "I'll go wake up my parents."



~**~**~**~**~



It wasn't much later that the three of them were gathered on the floor in front of the tree while Hermione's parents watched from the couch. Something about the idea of opening presents had transformed all three of them into what resembled overgrown four year olds, and they were all ripping wrapping paper from their gifts with zest.



"Thanks, Harry!" said Hermione, holding up her new REO Speedwagon CD for her parents to see. "I've always liked this band."



"Welcome. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but then you wouldn't have been able to listen to it." (A/N- she was at Hogwarts, remember? See end for REO explanation!)



Hermione opened her gift from Ron next. It was a book- Being a Prefect Isn't so Bad! She rolled her eyes when she saw the title. "Thanks a million, Ron."



"Don't mention it." He looked at her in mid-unwrap and grinned. "Of course, I had to sacrifice my moral beliefs to buy it, but I just kept telling myself that it was for you. The things I do for friendship," he said sarcastically but without malice. She watched Ron unwrap her gift to him. "Cool, thanks!" he said, pulling his new Chudley Cannon's sweatshirt over his head.



"I bewitched it so that if any Muggle looks at it, they see "Disneyland, USA," she informed him, reaching for the last gift under the tree, which was addressed to her from her parents.



"What's a Disneyland?"



"A place where Muggles go to see grown men in mouse suits."



"Let us see," said Mr. Granger, and Ron turned so that he and Mrs. Granger could see the front of his shirt. "Yup," Mr. Granger confirmed, "it says Disneyland."



Hermione shook her last gift, and noted that it made a thumping noise and that there was definitely more than one thing in the box. After that, she couldn't tell what it was. She pulled off the paper and opened the box.



Inside, on a bed of tissue paper, was a pair of ice skates. They were obviously well made. The blades gleamed in the light from the Christmas tree, and the smell of leather drifted up from the box.



"Wow," she whispered, and she took one out of the box and held it up to better admire it.



"Do you like them?" asked Mrs. Granger. "I remembered you saying something about your old pair being too small. I hope they fit."



"You know how to ice skate?" asked Harry, a look of disbelief on his face. Over his shoulder, Hermione could see the same expression on Ron's- except there was something else there too.



"A little," she admitted in an off-handed sort of way.



"A little?" said Mr. Granger. "She's being modest! She's a wonderful skater! She was the next Kristi Yamaguchi. She was in competitions and everything!"



"Only one, and I didn't win." Hermione winced the slightest bit at the memory of her one and only competition- what a flop that had been. "I didn't even place."



"Why didn't we know about this hidden talent of yours, Hermione?" asked Harry. He sounded extremely amused.



"I don't know, it never came up." Hermione glanced at Ron, and saw that he was scowling the slightest bit.



"What do you mean, 'it never came up?'" Ron said. "You just didn't bother telling us about this huge thing, because we never asked you about it?"



Hermione, who was quite taken aback, wondered why Ron was getting so angry. "It's really not a big deal."



"I think it is!"



"I'm going to go make some breakfast," said Mrs. Granger and she left, Mr. Granger following close behind.



"And I need to go... er... get something," said Harry, and he too left the room, shutting the French doors that led from the living room into the rest of the house behind him. (A/N- Good old Harry, he knows when a row is coming on!) Hermione saw this all out of the corner of her eye; she was busy glaring at Ron. Why was he doing this, and on Christmas too?



"Ron, just calm down!"



"Why? You just go and lie to me and Harry-"



"Lie?" Hermione saw red- how dare he call her a liar! "When did I ever lie about it? I just didn't tell you!"



"It's the same thing. We're your best friends, and you never mention this to us?" Ron's voice was almost at the point of yelling.



"Why did I have to? I didn't think that either of you would really care."



"Well, we do."



"How do you know if Harry cares? He's not in here screaming at me for no reason!" She could hear her own voice rising, but she really didn't care. "So why are you in here, Ron? Why do you care?" She had a sudden flashback to the night of the Yule Ball, when she had said almost these same words to him in the common room.



'Why does it bother you that I went with Victor Krum, Ron? Why do you care so much?'



When Ron didn't answer, when he just glared at her, she gathered up her new skates, turned on her heel, and ran from the room.



~**~**~**~**~



Harry was upstairs in the guest room, listening to the muffled shouts coming from below. There was a period of brief silence, footsteps running up the stairs, and a door slamming. Harry guessed it was Hermione's.



Harry sighed and flopped onto the bed. When would they learn?



A minute later more footsteps came thundering up the stairs, and Ron burst into the room, positively livid.



"Why is she so... so... difficult?" he burst out, glaring at him as if it was all Harry's fault. "I mean, it can't be the whole lot of them, Ginny's a girl and she doesn't act like... like that."



"Ron, just calm down-"



"Why does everyone keep telling me to do that?"



"Because you need to calm down."



Ron stopped glaring at Harry and plopped down in a chair. "Just whose side are you on, anyway?" he mumbled, sounding depressed.



"Uh-uh, no, I don't take sides in your little wars. You're on your own." Harry looked at Ron imploringly. He wasn't sure if he could ask the question without consequences. He decided to go for it anyway. "Why did you get so mad?" He, of course, knew the answer to the question, and had for months. He just wanted to know if Ron knew it.



There was a long pause, and then Ron sighed, "I don't know, mate. I just don't know."



~**~**~**~**~



Well, alright! That's it for this chapter, but there's much more to come! Ok, not a whole ton more to come, but I'll be having... eight, maybe nine chapters, so you'll get your money's worth, don't worry.



The REO Speedwagon thing... Sorry, I was listening to the song "Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore," and it just fit. You know, just one of those things. Thanks to the crew at www.sugarquill.com for the idea... I loved the mental image of Ron, crashing through the door, LOL. Everyone, go there and check it out, it's hysterical!



There will be an explanation as to why Hermione even bothered with ice skating to begin with. It's all coming. Patience is a virtue. (I hate that saying... lol, it's true, I really have become my mother...)



I got a few e-mails complaining that Ron was very OOC in the last chapter. Look at it this way- Voldemort is alive and kicking. That's enough to make anyone (except maybe for Cornelius Fudge) become a bit more subdued. Because it could all end, and would you want to die with someone mad at you? Or have someone else die while you were mad at them? I didn't think so.



Alright, I'm off to write some more, so I'll cya next time. We love you, Darth Vadar, goodnight!



P.S. 2nd Dedication- To Liz, who helped me a whole TON with this chapter. I'm positively amazed, girl. Everyone, she's practically an English teacher. And as an added bonus, she titled the chapter for me! Is there anything this girl can't do? Liz: beta-reader extrordinare. You rock!! Hasta luego!