"Where were you last night, Hermione," asked Harry when she stepped into the Leaky Cauldron. "Ron and I thought you were going to be here."

Hermione bit her lip, then sat down opposite Harry. "Harry, I need to tell you something. I can't tell Ron..."

"Is...Is it about George," asked Harry cautiously.

"Erm...yes, it is." Hermione looked extremely guilty. "Well, you know that we were pretending to date?" Harry nodded. "Okay. So, when we kissed, George told me that it was so he could tell Fred that we kissed and it wouldn't be a lie, which I totally understand because he probably doesn't want to be lying to his twin."

"Okay...so, why can't you tell Ron this?"

She shook her head. "Not that...but, George and I went out to dinner last night..."

"Er...so that George wouldn't have to lie?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes...well, that's what he told me. So I went to dinner with George. I thought it was going to be awkward. You know...I thought maybe that we would have absolutely nothing in common. But...er...I ended up having a really terrific time...George cares about a lot of the things I care about, excluding House-Elves. He read Hogwarts, A History when he was in third year, but he did so at night so that Fred wouldn't..."

"You realize," interrupted Harry, "that this is going to break Ron's heart?"

"Wh-what?"

"Hermione, didn't you wonder why it bothered Ron so much that you kissed George?"

"Er...because it was awkward to see his best friend kissing his brother?"

Harry laughed quietly at Hermione's inability to detect Ron's feelings. "Hermione, he likes you..."

"Well...he's my best friend..."

"No, no," said Harry. "Look, he's in love with you, Hermione. He has been since our fourth year at Hogwarts."

Hermione covered her mouth. "Oh, Harry..."

Harry nodded. "Look, Hermione, I'm not telling you that you can't date George for real or for fake, you just needed to know about Ron."

Hermione nodded. "Harry, what am I going to do?"

"Well...you said yourself that you and George were only pretending..."

"That's the problem," said Hermione.

"What?" Harry was suddenly alarmed. "What do you...you mean? What problem? There's a problem?

"Yes..." Hermione said sorrowfully. "I think I'm falling for George.

"How did the dinner go, mate," asked Fred the next morning at the Joke Shop.

"It was wonderful," said George miserably. "She's perfect..."

"You're in deep, my loving twin," said Fred with a grin.

"Shut up, I know. What am I going to do? I know Ron likes her--"

"Ahem, is in love with her..."

"Fine! I know Ron is in love with her, but I...I really like her, too. We have a lot in common. We have a lot of things in common that I didn't realize. She likes a lot of the same things I do and she says that the Joke Shop was a wonderful idea, even though she tried not to like the idea at first, and she cares about things. She cares about House-Elves and making sure people and creatures are treated equally..."

Fred pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek. "Oh, George..." he said exaggeratedly. "I had no idea she was that wonderful! How silly of me not to notice sooner! She's fit for marriage! How could I have made the mistake of dating Angelina?" He mocked fainting with his hand over his forehead, swooning.

"Shut up, you great prat," said George, restraining the urge to kick Fred's shins. "I'm just saying that I think I know now where Ickle Ronniekins is coming from!"

"Oh, Merlin, you sound like a sodding git."

"Shut up!" George stamped his foot.

"Oooh...temper, temper. Don't have that temper with me, young man, or I will send you straight to the owner."

"I do own this place, along with you."

"I know, I know. Just calm down and tell Uncle Freddy what you're going to do about it."

George looked at him, puzzled. "We don't have and Uncle Freddy. Just a love triangle."

"Yes, a triangle. A triangle of the Weasleys. We have a Weasley Triangle." (A/N: Ahem, thus, the title?)

Hermione stepped into her room at her parent's house to gather some of her things to take to the apartment she was going to rent out in Muggle London just outside of Diagon Alley. She looked up after shutting the door, and saw a red-haired, freckled person standing straight in front of her.

"Ron? What are you doing here?" Hermione's eyes widened at the bouquet of roses and lilies he had in his hand. Her favorites.

"Er...Her...Hermione, I g-got you th-these." He held the flowers out to her, and Hermione could see he was shaking.

"Oh, Ron," she gasped, taking the flowers. "They're beautiful."

"Yeah....I've been waiting for you to get home..." he said, then sneezed.

"Bless you."

"Th--th--th--" he sneezed again. "Thank you."

"Oh, Ron, you're allergic..." she said, backing away and putting the flowers safely away from Ron.

"No, no, I'm fine," he said, sneezing once again into a handkerchief.

"Oh, Ron...sit down..." she said concernedly, and ushered Ron over to her bed. Ron sat down obediently. This struck Hermione as strange. Ron never obeyed to anything. Well, it was for his own good. And he probably didn't feel very good from holding the flowers the whole time.

And he was in love with her.

That statement always popped into Hermione's head when she willed it away. She didn't want to think about how her best friend had loved her for so long. Why couldn't she see it? Why didn't she notice? Now that she looked back, she could see all his signs clearly. Even in their second year, Ron showed that he had a special caring for her, and she didn't notice...probably because his actions so mimicked Harry's. But Harry's didn't have that certain quality that more-than best friends have. Harry was always like a friend, but never more. Ron was always more. He was jealous, too, in their fourth year, of Viktor. She had thought it was just anger. But no, she could see the jealousy ripping through his eyes now.

How strange. How could she have not noticed it before?

"So," said Ron, his allergies clearing up. "How had the Department for Protection of---thingy going?"

"Wonderfully. How is the department of games and sports doing? What are you working on?"

"New racing broom," said Ron excitedly. "It's so cool! It's called the Lightning Rod, and it almost three times faster than the Firebolt. I'm giving a sample to Harry to try out."

"I suppose it beats Malfoy's so-called invention. His father coaxed another branch of your department to make the new Nimbus Two Thousand and Eight." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"There's no way it could be faster! We only just started on this one!" Ron's horrorstruck face made her laugh slightly.

"I know. From somewhere, I hear he's using speeding charms. But he hasn't thought of using the charm I always love to use."

"Er...Hermione? What charm is that?"

"Well, remember the DA and the Galleons?"

"Yes..."

"The charm that made them all change the same. That's the one he should use, but I don't think he's thought of it yet," said Hermione brilliantly.

"Wow..." said Ron in awe. "That would be a good idea. I wonder why that git didn't think of it."

"Git it such the...wrong word," said Hermione evilly. "More like, sodding prat."

"And he's getting up there. If he doesn't have Draco test it, he might try to test it himself." Ron sniggered. "He might fall and not be able to ever give it to precious Draco."

Hermione laughed. "Such a nice, pleasant thought, Ronald."

"Aww, why thank you," added Ron sarcastically. "Well, I'd best be off," he said, standing.

Hermione stood too. "Bye, Ron."

It was an awkward silence in which Ron's ears began to redden, and Hermione fiddled with her hair. Then Ron bent down and kissed her cheek. "Goodbye, Hermione."

And he walked out of the room, leaving Hermione with some very mixed feelings.