Title: Strange Bedfellows: A Comedy of Assumptions
Author: Mad Maudlin
Email: mekamorph@yahoo.com
Catergory: Humor, and a little romance
Keywords: Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, slash, 5th year
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: Teensy ones for Book Four, microscopic one for Book Two
Summary: Murder, mayhem, madness and Malfoy! Harry and Hermione face down an unexpected conspiracy, a possible nefarious plot, wild rumors and much, much worse to save their best friend from a terrible fate...right?

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

In other words, they're not mine; talk to the nice Scottish lady.

A/N: WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! This fic contains SLASH (male-on-male) SITUATIONS! Boys kiss boys! Boys do a lot more than kiss boys! It's SLASH! If this is the sort of thing that might offend you, do not read any further! I have a right to speak freely, but you have a right not to listen. So exercise your "Back" button! Bill put 'em there for something...

Strange Bedfellows:

A Comedy of Assumptions

by Mad Maudlin

7 / Hermione Doesn't Like Ron Like That, Not Even a Little Bit

Hermione poked her finger into the soil and dropped in another buzzing seed. They were planting Loquacious Daisies today, and Professor Sprout had had to shout instructions over the roar caused by hundred of seeds mumbling to themselves. She supposed they'd have to resort to sign language next term, when the seeds actually bloomed.

She looked over at Harry and Ron, who were working at the same tray on the next bench. Ron seemed extremely perturbed by the whole incident at lunch, and kept shooting worried glances at her. He had also failed to answer her question, which annoyed her. Harry, for his part, seemed to be trying to forget the whole incident, because whenever he looked at anything that reminded him of it (such as Hermione) he tried to pound his head against the nearest solid object. Ron, Dean and Seamus had formed a sort of security ring around him to prevent him from seriously hurting himself.

She was, of course, thoroughly embarassed by the whole thing. She was a rational creature, a self-controlled creature, a creature with absolutely no romantic entanglements whatsoever. Except for Ron. Who wasn't really a romantic sort of entanglement, more like a friendship sort of entanglement, but a very deep sort of friendship. Certainly not one of those weird "friendships with benefits" that Lavender and Seamus had, with all the snogging. Not that she would be averse to snogging. But not from Ron, because Ron was her friend, and one doesn't go around snogging one's friends, unless, apparently, one is Lavender Brown. But Lavender had absolutely nothing to do with this issue, because Hermione was not Lavender, and wasn't going to go around snogging her friends, even if said friend had just picked her up off the floor in such a gentlemanly way (after he'd sat on me! she reminded herself firmly) and even if standing so close to him, with his hands on her arms just so, had been like having an electric current running through her body and had made her heart do absolutely unnatural things and had caused her to forget when she had last breathed...rather like now, in fact...

But she wasn't attracted to Ron! Because Ron was her friend! And he was rude, and lazy, and a horrible student, and sarcastic, and short-temptered, and protective, and much too good a chess player, and cute, and loyal, and impulsive, and funny, and wasn't she supposed to be listing his faults? But it wasn't like she needed to. Because she didn't like him like that. They were friends. And if Malfoy laid one pointy finger on his hide she'd drag him through a hedge backwards. Because Ron was her friend. She'd do the same thing for Harry. In fact, if she was going to be romantically attached to anybody...which she wasn't, but hypothetically...Harry was a much better choice for many very logical reasons, which she just couldn't think of right now. So she should really be thinking about snogging Harry. Not Ron. Even if Harry was short and whiney and frustrating and obstinate and never wanted to listen to her brilliant plans and was always being stalked by Death Eaters and evil overlords and monsters and murderers and possessed bits of stationery. Besides, Crookshanks liked him better.

Which meant that if she liked anyone that way, it would be Harry, and therefore, not Ron. Right? Of course. Because Ron was just a friend. Just a very good friend. But not with benefits. Because she didn't think of him that way, because she didn't think of anyone that way, except maybe Harry, and was only if she had to. But right now she wasn't going to think of anyone that way because it was more important to carry on with the Brilliant Plan and stop Malfoy killing Ron, but not because she liked him that way. Of course not. Right?

"Erm...."

Hermione glanced up. Neville, who was working at the same tray, was looking at her and started to edge away. "Yes, Neville?" she asked.

"Did you, er, ask me a question just now?"

"Of course not."

"Okay. Only you were, er, talking aloud. About Ron and, ah, things."

"Oh, I was?" She felt her face turn scarlet. But you have no reason to blush, Hermione Granger, because you don't like him like that, remember?

"Yeah. And you just did it again."

She finished planting her half of the tray and smiled broadly at Neville. He smiled back nervously. "I'll just go wash up, shall I?" she asked.

"Okay," he said quietly.

She went to the large basin in the back of the greenhouse and pushed up her sleeves, preparing to scrub the dirt out from under her fingernails. However, Ernie Macmillan's voice reached her ears from the other side of a stand of Venomous Tentacula. Curious, she listened more closely.

"...pretty sure Granger is a hermaphrodite."

What? she thought incredulously.

"What?" Justin Finch-Fletchy asked incredulously.

"Where'd you hear this?" Hannah Abbot demanded.

Ernie sounded like he was wearing the world's biggest smirk. "Owen Cauldwell."

"Uh-huh," Susan Bones said, sounding distinctly unamused. "And since when was Owen Cauldwell an expert on the anatomy of fifth-year Gryffindors?"

Exactly! Hermione thought, smirking to herself.

"Well, Owen didn't find it out," Ernie said, as if Susan were very stupid. "He heard it from Dennis Creevey, who heard it from his brother, and his brother heard her talking about it. Apparently she was telling Potter all about how freakishly huge it is."

"So you're saying," Justin said weakly, "that under those robes, Granger's got a...a wand of her own?"

Of course I have, you hyphenated twit, Hermione thought, but she felt she was missing something.

"Yeah," Ernie said, sounding disgusted. "I mean, I'd always kind of figured her for a she-male, seeing how she's so smart and everything..."

Susan harumphed. "Of course, Ernie, it's perfectly logical. Nobody can be truly intelligent unless they've got a prick, so naturally the smartest witch in our year must be a hermaphrodite."

Hermione flushed with righteous indignation as Hannah Abbot gigggled. At least Macmillan sounded contrite when he mumbled, "That's not exactly what I meant..."

Justin still sounded unsteady. "But why would Granger be telling Harry Potter about it? I mean why could he possibly need to know..."

Hermione peeked through the leaves of the Tentacula. Ernie had recovered swiftly and was once again enjoying himself, holding court. Hannah was watching eagerly; Justin looked like somebody'd just told him that there was no Father Christmas. Susan was the only one actually planting anything, and looked distinctly bored. "Here's what I reckon," Ernie said in a hushed voice. "See, I heard from Owen that Granger, Potter and Ron Weasley have some kind of sick threesome thing going on—this is what he got from the Creeveys, mind you—but that Potter's starting to fancy Weasley more, and Granger's jealous. And Owen also said that Potter's been shagging Draco Malfoy on the side—"

"What?!" Justin yelped.

What?! Hermione thought.

"Yeah." Ernie pulled a face. "It's gross, innit? Anyway, I saw Potter and Granger go into a closet with Malfoy's two goons this morning, and then I overheard them fighting. And Lavender Brown said she overhead then talking about killing Weasley, and getting Malfoy's help. So I reckon, Granger and Malfoy are both jealous that Potter's all sweet on Weasley, so they're sort of teamed up to do it, and Potter's trying to stop them both. And Weasley's just clueless."

Hermione just goggled him through the Tentacula leaves.

"But," Justin said, looking on the verge of illness, "but what about what happened at lunch? She saved him, didn't she? She could've just let him choke and it would've looked like an accident..."

"But then Potter would be all sad," Ernie reminded him. "I reckon that Granger really has some secret plan to doublecross Malfoy, and get him and Weasley to off each other—you know how they fight—so she can have Potter all to herself. I mean, don't you remember what Rita Skeeter wrote about her last year? She should be in Slytherin, I swear..."

Hannah was drinking it all in with a look of unhealthy fascination on her face; Justin looked like his entire world had caved in. Susan just clucked her tongue and shook her head. "You never cease to amaze me, Ernie, you know? Just when I think you've reached the limit, you surpass yourself."

"Thanks," Ernie said with a grin.

That wasn't a compliment, numbskull! Hermione thought, leaning in closer. However, the Venomous Tentacula decided it couldn't resist any living morsel kind enough to climb right into its prop roots, and she felt its feelers snaking around her legs. Stomping hard on them, she completely missed the ones trying to twine around her wrists until she felt the thorns pierce her skin. With a howl of aggravation, she threw herself backwards and pulled out her wand. "Gelaris!" she snapped, and a cloud of glittering blue mist enveloped the thrashing plant, freezing it solid. It slowly toppled over, revealing the shocked and frightened faces of three gossipy Hufflepuffs, and Susan Bones, who looked like she'd been expecting this sort of thing all along.

Hermione stood there, wand still out, feeling light-headed and woozy. She realized that everyone in the greenhouse was staring at her. Climbing awkwardly over the fallen Tentacula, she slapped Ernie hard across the face. "I am not a hermaphrodite!" she declared loudly. "Just so you know!" Then the Tentacula venom finally reached her brain, and she passed out.

A/N 2: Once again, no offense intended to hermaphrodites in general.

If Susan Bones' characterization seems a bit odd, it's because I've read too many Discworld books, and keep confusing her with Susan Sto Helit. Ah, well, at least her hair didn't start braiding itself…