Author's Notes: I love Paul and Roger. If anyone in this fic is a blatant self-insert, it's them. Even though I am most definitely not two fourteen-year-old boys. But my spirit is alive in them. I loved giving my teachers hell. Now I'm scared to because if I tried to give my profs hell they'd either fail me or be like, "Who the hell are you?" And then I'd have to give them my student number and that's just a pain in the ass.

***

"Bloody hell!" Paul White swore loudly as he staggered into Professor Granger's classroom, arms laden with books. His fellow students sniggered loudly as he took his seat.

"You're late, Mr. White," Hermione said, not looking up from a test that she was marking. With her red pen – her preferred choice of marking tool – she circled an error and immediately scratched a large, red 'X' into the parchment, next to the incorrect answer.

"I know, Professor, I know," Paul said in a long-suffering voice. He sniffed loudly and put his fingers to his temples. "You see…my memory…it's just not what it used to be…"

Hermione sighed as she glanced up from the test, now covered in more red markings. "Oh come on, Mr. White. That wasn't even a half-decent attempt."

Paul slumped in his chair, looking dejected. "I know. I'm feelin' a bit off today."

"Where were you?"

"In the kitchens with Roger. So shall I come for detention tonight or tomorrow?"

Hermione rifled through her perfectly organized date book, which had been sitting on the corner of her desk in it's place of glory. "Tonight's good for me."

"Alrighty," Paul said as he grabbed his quill, dipped it into some ink with flourish, and jotted down a quick note to remember detention on the back of his hand. "Oh, I bumped into that blonde friend of yours," Paul added casually, with the air of someone making small talk with an old friend.

Hermione frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, you know. Blonde fellow, about yea high," Paul lazily raised his hand to indicate the height of the person. "Glasses, talks a lot, follows you around like a love-sick puppy - "

"That's quite enough, Mr. White," Hermione interrupted quickly, dimly aware of warmth spreading to her cheeks. She certainly didn't need an in-depth description of Charles from Paul White, especially in front of her entire fourth-year class. Plus, she was already all too well aware of his slightly irritating traits. The fact that his visits to the castle had become much more frequent lately didn't help.

"Alright, alright, everyone settle down," Hermione said loudly over the dull roar that had arisen in her classroom while she was lost in her own little world. "Everyone turn to page thirty-four in your textbooks…"

***

Professor Granger's shoes clicked and clacked on the ancient marbled floor, echoing around the empty hall. The only sounds to be heard in the corridor were her fast and punctual footsteps and the rhythmic beating of her heart. A black briefcase was in her hand, containing several papers, belonging to her sixth-year class, which needed to be read and marked. Hermione stopped in front of the staff room door.

"Peppermint twist," she said clearly. The staff room provided a quiet sanctuary for teachers who had work to do in between classes or during lunch or dinner. It was not as lovely as the staff common room, which was spacious and richly furnished, and it did not have the privacy of one's office, but there was always hot coffee, tea, and other deliciously warm beverages available within. Feeling comforted already by the aroma of hot coffee, Hermione took a step forward as the door swung open, allowing her in.


"There you are!" an all-too familiar voice called. Hermione glanced around to see Ron drinking a steaming mug of Butterbeer at the long staff room table. She swiftly turned around, but the door had already swung shut behind her. She was trapped. Coffee forgotten, Hermione stood there, rigid.

"Where in the blazes have you been, Hermione?" Ron asked, patting the seat next to him at the table. After a brief pause, Hermione walked over and stiffly sat down in it, clutching her briefcase to her.

"What do you mean?" she asked coldly.

"Well…" Ron began hesitantly. "You're not at lunch or supper in the Great Hall. I almost never see you in the corridors. And if I ask anyone they tell me to try looking in your classroom or your office, but you're never there…" Ron trailed off, his cheerful attitude having disappeared unexpectantly. "Are you…er…okay?"

"I'm well, thank you," Hermione replied icily, beginning to get up. Ron rose as well, puzzled, on the edge of suspicion. "I just have quite a lot of work to do. Now if you'll excuse me…"

"Wait just a moment," Ron said, pushing on her shoulder and forcing her to sit back down. Hermione gave in and sat down, folding her arms and nearly scowling. Ron hesitated before he said anything, looking pensive and increasingly suspicious.

"…Either I'm imagining things," he finally said slowly, "or you're avoiding me."

Oh, well spotted, Hermione thought sarcastically. Out loud, she said, "Oh don't be stupid," in a very irritated voice. "I'm very busy, that's all."

Ron's eyes, screwed up thoughtfully, searched Hermione's face. Hermione fought the urge to squirm under his critical gaze.

"I knew you'd be different," Ron said suddenly, "when I decided to come here, that is. I knew you would've changed a bit since I saw you last. We all do. I mean, it has been seven years. But..." He paused. "You're like a whole different person, Hermione," Ron finished almost sadly. His sad tone stabbed her heart like a knife. Unflinching, Hermione pulled out the metaphorical blade and tossed it aside.

"Well of course I am," Professor Granger replied irritably. "I only knew you for seven years, after all, at Hogwarts. I've grown up, Ron." After a brief pause, she added quite nastily, "Why haven't you?"

Ron looked taken aback. After staring at his old friend, mouth slightly open, for what seemed like hours, he began shaking his head slowly. "Growing up…growing up doesn't mean you have to become this…this stiff, prim, proper," his voice began getting louder, and consequently, harsher, "irritable, McGonagall wannabe!"

Professor Granger gaped at him, eyes blazing angrily. "Well at least I didn't run off chasing vampires and warlocks!" she shot back loudly.

"Well I didn't see you trying to stop me and Harry from leaving!" Ron yelled. "In fact, if I think about it now, you were almost happy to see us go!"

"I was!" Hermione burst out. "I was! I was happy that you two were leaving and taking all your mischief and trouble and Dark wizards with you!"

The conversation had quickly become a shouting match. Both professors had leaped out of their chairs by this point, their faces scarlet from bellowing. Hermione should have known it would come down to this, simply from experience. Ron had always had a quick temper, and she was offended far too easily. The number of rows those two traits of theirs had caused during their Hogwarts days were countless.

"Oh, so that's what it was!" Ron shouted hoarsely. "That's why you didn't write, or try to keep in touch, or anything!"

"I tried to politely keep my distance from you two accident-prone, trouble-making, danger-seeking idiots, but then you had to show up at Hogwarts and ruin everything!" Hermione shrieked.

But before Ron could holler a comeback, a polite rapping on the staff room door was heard. The two old school-friends slowly turned to stare at the door.

"Sweetums?" came a muffled voice. "Are you in there?"

Hermione groaned. Charles' timing couldn't have been more horrible. Ron glanced from the door to Hermione, one eyebrow raised. He slowly crossed over to the door and opened it.

"Can I help you?" Ron asked of the blonde, eager-looking man standing outside.

"Ah yes, I'm looking for…" Charles' face suddenly lightened up as he spotted Hermione. "Cupcake! There you are!"

Hermione searched frantically for a hole that would be willing to swallow her up. No such luck.

Ron glared at Charles behind his back, realization slowly dawning on him. Eyes narrowed, he cleared his throat loudly. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Professor Granger?"

Hermione shot him a look that could kill, but reluctantly obeyed. "Charles, this is Professor Ronald Weasley," she said flatly. "Ron, this is my…" She stopped and hesitated. "…My friend, Charles Griney."

"I see," Ron answered shortly, eyebrows raised.

Taking a step forward, Charles held out his hand to him, beaming. Ron gave him a look that would frighten a Hippogriff, which caused Charles to smile weakly and quickly withdraw his hand.

"What are you doing here, Charles?" Hermione asked in the politest tone possible, though her voice was strained.

"Oh, Ministry business," Charles said dismissively. "The school's budget, you know…I have a meeting with Dumbledore later this afternoon, but I was thinking…"

"Er…I was sort of in the middle of something with Professor Weasley. Can we talk later?" Hermione said under her breath to her boyfriend.

Charles' face clouded for a moment, but the look was soon replaced by one of his sparkling smiles. "Of course, sugarfoot…"

Ron snorted.

Glancing backwards at Ron with a slight frown, Charles continued. "Shall I meet you near the lake later on? We can go for a lovely stroll on the grounds…."

"All right," Hermione replied wearily. "Goodbye, Charles," she said, nonchalantly ushering him towards the door.

Charles paused at the door and turned around, leaning forward expectantly. Hermione froze, feeling Ron's eyes on her back. She glanced back at him, then at Charles, who was still leaning forward.

"Sweetums! Don't I get a - " Charles begun in patronizing sort of voice.

"Oh, yes." Hermione replied quickly. Charles leaned forward again, smiling. Hermione grasped his hand and shook it. "There you are!" she said with fake cheerfulness, giving him a push through the doorframe, and then rapidly shutting the door behind him.

"Well," was all Ron said. It was obvious he was trying his best to make himself still look angry, despite the amused look in his eyes.

Hermione jutted out her chin determinedly and folded her arms. "Go on," she said haughtily. "Say it."

"I wasn't going to say anything…" Ron insisted innocently.

"Fine. Then leave. I have nothing more to say to you, either."

"I believe I was here first."

"No, I believe I was here first. You're the one who showed up at this castle out of the blue to make my life difficult," Hermione retorted.

Ron's face turned red again, his still boyish freckles standing out. He didn't seem to have a comeback for that. Wordlessly, he pushed past her and left the staff room, muttering under his breath and clenching his fists. Hermione watched him leave, and then collapsed into a chair, resting her head on her palms.

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Review threat of old: Review or else the half-monkey half-llama type creature lurking in the shadows of my basement shall get thee! *Looks around nervously* He could be in this very room…