Not if I can help it

The next morning was Saturday, Ron was sleeping quite pleasantly in the Gryffindor Boy's Dormitory until a loud shriek woke him up.

"You are gonna have to have to control that girlfriend of yours, Finnigan," he said sleepily upon recognising the voice.

"I think you're talking to invisible people again, mate," came Harry's voice. "It's only you, me, and Dean. Seamus went to give Lavender a 'gift' ages ago, and Neville, just well.erm.isn't here"

"Please!" Ron moaned while pulling his pillow over his head. "If I have to hear them going at it one more time, I'm gonna barf. And it ain't gonna be pretty."

Dean's voiced came from underneath his large pile of blankets. "Ron, mate. You're never pretty."

After satisfying himself by throwing a rather heavy pillow at his dreadlocked friend, the tired red head pulled himself up into a sitting position. Looking around at the clock which read 'Too Early' he tried hard to suppress a yawn. He still couldn't help but think about the 'TMP' as his brothers had called it. Surely Hermione wouldn't end up marrying Neville just because he didn't ask her to a stupid ball. Would she? His mother was always saying how the smallest decisions can turn out effecting the biggest parts of your life.

"Have you found a victim yet?" Harry asked. "So far you and Neville are the only people who haven't got dates for the ball. At this rate Neville will have a date before you."

Ron shook his head.

"Well, you better hurry up. Neville's thinking of asking Hermione and knowing her she'll say yes outta pity. You don't wanna lose her again do you?" Harry said.

The three were now fulling awake, sitting on their beds watching the clock as it slowly crawled from "Too Early" to "Early"

"What do you mean?" his friend replied, blushing.

"Remember the 'Vicky Incident'? Voodoo dolls, sleep talking. One Ronald Weasley was a green-eyed monster," Harry elaborated.

"Aha," Dean agreed, smiling. "One with pointy fangs and lime coloured spots."

"Shut up," Ron grumbled before flinging himself back into the pile of pillows at the head of his bed. He wasn't planning to get up until the clock at least read "Lunch". With that in mind, he began to drift back to sleep, thoughts of how he was ever going to ask his bestfriend and apparently not-so-secret crush to the Valentines Ball. It wasn't exactly the type of ball where you could go as 'just friends'. Why did girls have to be such a mystery anyway?

~*~TIME MANIPULATOR PROJECTOR~*~

A highly pleased pair of red headed twins were lounging around the Gryffindor 7th year's commonroom, laughing at the thought of the past night's happenings.

Contrary to their brother's belief, last night hadn't been the first time the 'TMP' had been used and showing the future was definitely something the machine didn't do. Actually all the invention did was feed off photographs and slight background information that was fed into it and created a film of any case scenario its use cared to come up with. The reason it was called a Time Manipulator Projector? Simple. It manipulates time as they can show the scenario at any stage of a person's life, past, future or present and it projects the image onto a blank screen. Even Lee Jordan had to admit it was one of the twin's best inventions to date.

"Remember the look on Ron's face when he saw Hermione kiss Neville?" George said as he was overcome by another fit of laughter.

"Hell yeah!" Fred replied before doing an impersonation of what looked like a mixture of a mother who'd just discovered her only daughter was pregnant and horse with mad cow disease.

Upon seeing this, his twin brother broke out into another fit of laughter, this time laughing a tad bit too hard and falling onto the floor with a rather loud thud.

"You idiot!" Fred managed to get out before he two was overcome by the definitely overworked laughing fairy.

~*~TIME MANIPULATOR PROJECTOR~*~

"Ron, you're gawking like an idiot," Harry said to his bestfriend.

The two were playing chess in their commonroom. At least Harry was, and so was Ron until a particular bookworm made her way into the room. Harry turned around to look at the object of his best friend's affections. Unlike most boys, who wouldn't even look twice at their bushy haired bestfriend, Ron was staring at her like she was the meaning of life itself. He watched his friend as the red head gazed intently at the girl who was now fumbling with a rather large book. This boy had it, and he had it bad.

"I repeat. Ron, you're gawking like an idiot."