2. A clone again, naturally.
Their underage magic wouldn't be detectable at the Burrow, a household normally full of magicians. Hermione carefully went through the lengthy charming process needed to make the clones take shape.
The copies gradually appeared, wearing clothing identical to their originals, and Hermione did another charm to tint the blouses blue. The clones were perfect, realistic, breathing copies -- one tall and very red-haired "blue-Ron" and a shorter and very bushy-haired "blue-Hermione." Ron and Hermione found them fascinating to look at.
Each of the teens practised vanishing and recalling their clone a few times, and all went well, so they separated to perform the personal instructions. It was a strange sensation to be talking to oneself, but they coped with it. Ron told blue-Ron to listen attentively, and act as though he was really interested in whatever she was talking about. Hermione told blue-Hermione to get over her fear of broom flying, and not to get upset if Ron mentioned Quidditch every two minutes. As the book had said, the clones were perfectly willing to adjust.
The two swapped clones and went off to meet separately. Ron was pleasantly surprised when blue-Hermione suggested a broom ride, and they went off for a spin. Meanwhile, Hermione couldn't get over how blue-Ron's thoughts didn't wander, and he never once injected the Chudley Cannons into their conversation.
After two hours of this unusual togetherness, the four met up. By now, blue-Hermione was flushed with excitement over flying, and blue-Ron was proudly wearing an S.P.E.W. badge. The originals vanished their clones, and compared notes.
"How was I?" asked Ron.
"You were great. Hope I was fun, too! They are easier to deal with, aren't they?"
"Sure they are. Pretty soon, the other Hermione'll be playing Quidditch, and the other Ron's gonna be knitting hats for house-elves. But -- that's not exactly what you set out to do, is it?"
"Hmph... y'know, you're right, Ron. This is not working right. There's a fallacy in my plan. Instead of us improving ourselves, all we're doing is compensating with the clones."
"So what do we do?"
"The truth is, our clones have to act the same way we do. For instance, my clone shan't fly unless I would. Is that okay with you?"
"Um.....oh, alright. And mine will still think elves are a bit weird. Is that okay?"
"Sure. I understand. But are you willing to learn to dance from my clone?"
"Okay... if you'll pretend having even a smidgeon of interest in professional Quidditch."
"No problem."
Through practising with the clones to see what worked, Ron and Hermione made little adjustments for each other's interests and personality quirks. Getting along, it seemed, was so much more fun than arguing.
This plan could have come to a disastrous end on one particularly beautiful day in late July, when the four came together after a clone session -- and blue-Ron had a silly smile on his blushing face. When Ron insisted on asking what had happened, blue-Ron divulged that Hermione (perhaps with owl-post hints from the more impetuous Ginny) had snogged his brains out.
Before Ron could complain about such blatant misuse, blue-Hermione staggered in with a similar silly smile. Hermione grilled her clone, and found Ron had also been practising some steamy kissing. Both clones were vanished with particularly loud and vigourous commands.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other, neither one anxious to explain their behaviour, or knowing what to do next. Ron finally figured out the simplest solution.
"First off, Hermione, I'm sorry if my clone or I overdid it in any way. It was just kissing. But, I guess we're both changing, and getting to actually like each other's clones. Or each other. Or whatever. Wasn't that the reason for doing all this? What if... well, couldn't we... I mean, how about we..."
"Dump the clones?" finished Hermione.
"Yeah. About time, isn't it? I mean, they're just us anyway."
"I think you're right, Ron. Where did my clone leave off?"
And so, for the second time that day, Hermione snogged Ron's brains out.
It could not be said that they completely changed. They still saw the same faults in each other that they had before. Worse, they still saw their own flaws. But adjustments had undoubtedly been made.
By mid-August, Ron was learning to dance, and looking forward to the Autumn Ball as much as Hermione. While she was still terrified of flying, she stood up to her fears and flew in formation through the treetops with Ron.
When Harry and other family members finally arrived from holiday activities, they noticed the two were never at odds. Molly had detected it over the Summer, and Ginny explained it all. Harry was much relieved; their bickering had always been such an annoyance to him.
At Hogwarts, the Autumn Ball was just another dance, not a major occasion to all students. Ron and Hermione, though, were fidgety in anticipation. For them, it had become their personal goal, something very special. Indeed, it turned out well; everyone said they were the happiest and most attractive couple in the hall.
They sat in the crisp air of late Autumn, enjoying a Highlands sunset.
"Ron?"
"Um?"
"Something's bothering you."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. But you're quiet lately. Did I say something?"
"No. You're fine."
"Ummm," she purred. "Glad to hear that. I was just worried that you were upset."
"Nah. I'm happy as a lark. And glad it's working between us."
"Are you sure?"
A good question. Was he sure? He wasn't, really.
In fact, Ron couldn't stand it any longer. "Hermione, I'm sorry, but I have to confess something."
"Confess?" asked Hermione. "What now?"
"It's about our dates. You've been saying I'm less shy, less arguing, more open, more nice, all that. Do you really think so?"
"Well.... yes, I must say."
"But how much of it was the Autumn Ball? Was that it? Was I really that good that night?"
Hermione hesitated. "Ron, where are you going with all this?"
Ron steeled himself, then blurted it all before he could change his mind. "Hermione, I knew the ball was very important to you, and that made it important to me. I wanted to impress you, and I made sure I planned it all out, dressed up just right, and neatened myself up."
"Everyone said you looked fine," she pointed out.
"Yeah, looks, maybe. But I knew I just wasn't ready for it yet. I'm still me. I couldn't ruin the evening when you had looked forward to it so much! So.... at the last minute, I... I used the charm one last time. I brought up my clone -- and sent him."
"You.... sent...."
"My clone."
"You sent your CLONE to dance with me, and chat with me, and who knows what else? On this intimate occasion, the biggest event of the year, and in front of all our friends, you sent your cheap, cardboard-cutout CLONE to date me?"
By now, Ron felt about an inch tall. "Go on, have at me. I deserve it. It was incredibly stupid of me, and now that I think on it, I insulted you something awful by doing that, and I'm really sorry. I spoiled your best night, didn't I?"
Hermione had steam rising from her ears now. "You don't know the half of it, Ronald B. Weasley. It would have been a great night for both of us. Being a boy, you don't know how much care I took getting ready. Ginny and I helped each other, setting our hair, picking out my bracelets and necklace. I bought new shoes, adjusted the hem on my dress, borrowed a wonderful perfume from Alicia..."
"But you know me, Hermione; I would have said something wrong and spoiled it all. I know it's not much, but just think of this: I wanted to go, too, and I gave it up, so you'd enjoy it, even if I didn't."
"And that's what makes me really angry, Ron."
"Why? I did it for you!"
"So did I, you great git!"
"Well, at least you got to go the dance!"
"And now I'm really, really angry, Ron!"
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to hurt you any more than you wanted to hurt me. If you had said something out of place, I would have answered it, and we would have gone back to our dorms in a huff."
"But that's exactly my point! We didn't do that, cos I lost my courage, and sent my clone!"
"AND SO DID I !"
Suddenly, it was very quiet.
"You... did.. what?" said Ron.
"I don't know whether to laugh or cry, Ron," she answered. "I couldn't spoil your evening, either; I did the same thing. I sent my clone. We are such a joke! It was the biggest social occasion of our year, and we both missed it! Two self-effacing idiots! We wasted it hiding somewhere, ashamed of our shortcomings. Meanwhile, our wind-up clones were dancing the night away with each other... and since they were perfect copies of us as we were that night, it only proves we would have gotten along wonderfully."
Ron slowly shook his head in disbelief. "Hermione, you and I are both hopeless."
"For once, Ron, I have to agree."
The sun set in silence.
"Hermione, would you like to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow? I'll buy."
"Thanks, Ron. But, honestly, I'd be just as happy if you took me for a walk around the lake."
"Okay. Are you sure you wouldn't want to walk with my clone instead? He's better company."
"No, he isn't. He's a git. And a duplicate git at that. I only want to date original gits."
"Me too. So let's compromise. Both us gits will wear git blue. Agreed?"
She chuckled. "Agreed. You're a real piece of work, Ron Weasley -- and, I'm glad to say, you're my piece of work."