The next morning, which was coincidently only two and a half hours after he fell asleep, Harry awoke in Ron's violent orange bedroom. It gave him quite a scare, as he had forgotten how bright it was. When he fell asleep last night, everything was dark, so the colour hadn't affected him too much. He lay awake for a while, lost in his own thoughts about the night before.

This girl - 'Rose' as she called herself - seemed such a lovely person to genuinely want to help him. She must have powers beyond his reckoning. Harry had heard some talk of telepathy among some of the older Gryffindors in past years. He hadn't thought much about it til now. Rose also said she knew Professor Trelawney from Hogwarts. Harry wondered how they had met. He didn't really think Trelawney was in the Order. But, then, she had heard the prophecy; so maybe she was…He would have to ask Rose how they met her next time she contacted him. Although, he reasoned, couldn't be sure she would tell him. She almost seemed to like being all mysterious. Harry groaned, and decided on talking to Professor Trelawney about Rose when they went back to Hogwarts instead. He would have to endure a lot of death predictions this year: he could feel it.

On the floor across from him, Hermione shifted slightly in her sleeping bag. She was thinking about Rose, but a face kept interrupting her train of thought. A very handsome face, in fact. The face smiled at her and winked, and she grinned back, blushing, curling up into a ball. The owner of said face groaned and rolled over in his sleep. She didn't think he was awake yet. Ronald Weasley sure was a heavy sleeper. Hermione pushed her lovely thoughts of Ron aside for a moment to think about last night. Rose had a soft, comforting, gentle voice that was hard not to trust. Hermione found she liked Rose instantly…well, her voice, at least. She sounded nice enough. Hermione noted that Rose had mentioned both Trelawney and Dumbledore, and had spoken of Hogwarts and the Order. The brunette had read about telepathy. There was more to this Rose than she was letting on. She let herself drift back to sleep.

Ron Weasley awoke slowly to the gentle, sweet aroma of sandalwood, honey and…what was that, lemon? He inhaled deeply, and discovered it was the alluring fragrance of Hermione's hair. Ron, Hermione and Harry were lying on the floor in a triangle with their heads together, bodies splaying outwards, sharing the same lump of pillows. Ron sighed as he thought of Hermione. He felt very protective of her. It tore him up inside that she was still sending owls to that Viktor Krum. He didn't like that guy; not one bit. His feelings for Hermione were very complex at the best of times, but now he felt his attitude towards her changing. Thinking back to last night, Ron thought about Rose's ability. Growing up in a wizarding family, Ron knew a bit about telepathy and clairvoyants. Apparently, a clairvoyant is very rare, despite the thousands of muggles pretending they were extrasensory to cheat money from other muggles. Telepathy never came with birth; usually something has to happen to a person, generally in their childhood, to trigger the ability. This Rose was very special. Ron wondered what the catalyst was which gave Rose her special powers. It must have been quite an ordeal.

Ron stirred. He had to get up sooner or later. He rolled over onto his stomach so he could survey both Harry and Hermione. Harry, he observed, was awake. He stared back at Ron and mumbled 'morning' while stifling a yawn. Ron yawned 'morning' back. He wondered briefly why one person yawning makes another person yawn back. It was just funny. He looked over at Hermione. She had fallen back to sleep, and had her perfect mouth closed in a small smile.

'Pleasant dreams', thought Ron wickedly with a grin. He signalled Harry to be quiet with a finger to his lips and motioned over to Hermione, who was still sleeping peacefully. Harry propped himself up on an elbow, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Ron. Ron mouthed 'watch' to Harry and lowered his hand in level with Hermione's head. Harry glanced at his friend and noted that he was desperately trying to hold in his laughter and stay silent. Ron's hand neared her face. By this time, Harry too was trying to hold in a chuckle. Ron went in for the final action. He waited until she had exhaled, and softly pinched her nose shut. Nothing happened.

Hermione didn't breathe. Her subconscious self told her something was wrong. Her body was not getting oxygen. She was beginning to fight for breath. She tried to inhale through her nose, but something wouldn't let her. She couldn't breathe in or out. Harry and Ron snickered as her body started to jerk. She was still asleep, and asleep people don't have the presence of mind to open their mouths. Finally, she squealed and her mouth flew open. She sprang up in bed to a sitting position and gasped. Gulping air down, coughing, sneezing and hiccupping all at once, she managed to glare at Ron and Harry, while choking out,

"Don't…EVER…do…that…again!"

Hermione's glare was lost on Harry and Ron, who were rolling around on the floor, bumping into each other, holding their sides with laughter. Harry was snorting, and Ron was positively howling. A figure with red hair was leaning up against the doorframe, needing it there to support her. Ginny was falling about tittering, shaking her head.

"He does that to me all the time!" she gasped.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, and glowered at Ron for a few minutes, until he finally stopped guffawing. Why is he so charming? She thought to herself. He's so childish, it's just adorable.

Ron gazed imploringly at her. "Oh, come on, Mione. I'm sorry. I couldn't resist!"

She just kept staring at him, a calculating look on her face. Everyone was watching as she plucked a pillow from the floor and hugged it to her chest. Tension was building in the room. Harry and Ginny could feel it. They looked at each other, and shared a look that said, 'what's she up to?'

She stalked closer to Ron. There was only about a foot length between their faces. He could feel her breath. His eyes were boring into hers. Her heart started to jack-hammer wildly, but she hid it and stared at him.

He was starting to feel hot. Was this a good thing? What was she up to? She had been staring at him for a while now and he expected her to continue to do so for a little while longer. They were locked in a high-tension staring contest. Then, all of a sudden, Hermione whipped up the pillow and brought it crashing down on Ron's head.

"You crazy loon!" she screeched, and dove on top of him as he hit the ground. He fought to regain his composure, and started to wrestle with her. He was on top when he grabbed a pillow and began batting at her with it.

Ron whipped around. "Harry, c'mon! help me out here!"

Harry joined in the fray, grabbing a pillow and jumping on them both. Hermione squeaked "Ginny! Little help?" and ducked to avoid a pillow aimed at her. Ginny cackled maniacally and picked up yet another pillow, diving on top of the whole bunch. They were wrestling and fighting for about ten minutes when the rest of the Weasleys came to the door, smiling.

Molly sighed contentedly. "It's good to see them safe and happy again."

Fred and George nodded absently before leaping on top of the laughing pile and joining in. Bill and Charlie circled the bunch like referees, yelling things like 'Go, Hermione!' and 'use your knee! No, push harder!' and 'you'll never win like that!' Six pairs of flailing arms, six pairs of kicking legs…there were limbs flying everywhere, not to mention pillows. Molly and Arthur shook their heads and walked down to breakfast together. They'd been lost in another dimension for three days, terrorised by You-Know-Who, and all they could do was laugh and have a pillow fight. They were almost adults, too. A few of their children were. Childish, immature they were. Kids.

Later that day, after everyone was sitting around the Weasleys' dining room table, talking. Everyone save Ron and Hermione. The pretty girl sat on a swing in the backyard, Ron standing behind her, pushing. They had not said anything to one another for a few minutes. Hermione just sat there, whooshing through the air, a thrill working its way up her spine every time Ron's warm hands spanned across her back to push her.

"So," he said, willing his voice not to betray his emotions. "how was your holiday? Any letters from Victor?" he had been wondering this with jealousy for quite some time now. He envied Viktor Krum more than he thought he could envy anyone. Hermione squirmed in her swing uncomfortably.

"Oh, I dumped him ages ago," she replied, trying her best to sound nonchalant. Ron stood stock still, gaping with surprise. Hermione swung back, forced to by momentum, and almost crashed into him. He checked himself just in the nick of time and was able to avoid anything embarrassing. Hermione had her back turned, and didn't notice his shocked expression.

"Yeah," she continued, "he was just so conceited and egotistical. He was as self-absorbent as a sponge. After a while, I ahd to stop writing to him. It was unbelievable! He got all shirty with me and he's all 'oh, I'm famous, your loss'." She added sarcastically.

"Honestly, Ron, I have never disliked someone more."

At this, Ron grinned to himself. She was his! He thought about her last statement, and slyly coughed 'Malfoy!' Hermione sighed with a smile, and turned to Ron.

"I stand corrected." Their eyes met.

Ron whispered, "so…you're all free now?"

Hermione's body tingled. She giggled.

"Sure am," she announced happily.

Their faces neared. Hermione sighed and she drew closer. Ron closed his eyes. Their lips met, and a few seconds later, two figures bore down on them. Two figures by the names of Bill and Charlie. Bill grabbed Ron by the elbow and shoved him roughly away, while Charlie took hold of Hermione's shoulders and dragged her inside gently.

"Now, now, children. None of that." They joked. "There are parents here." The older Weasley boys guided Ron and Hermione inside, both laughing to themselves wickedly. Ickle Ronniekins sure was growing up fast.

Harry looked up from his conversation with Ginny about a certain Dean Thomas, her boyfriend, to see a very pink Hermione and an indignant looking Ron being led by Bill and Charlie. Frankly, Harry was relieved. He couldn't last much more of this 'girltalk' about how great Dean was. Listening to Ginny was making Harry feel a twinge in his stomach he labelled as a result of too much information. He felt he needed to escape from all this talk of romance and love for at the very least a few minutes. He stood and walked over to Ron to talk about Quidditch this year. He was about to speak when Ron grabbed his arm and pulled him forcefully into the kitchen. He seemed breathless.

"I just kissed Mione," he blurted out. Harry blinked.

"Sorry, Ron. I just tuned out. What?"

"Told you, I just kissed Mione," Ron hissed.

"You've gotta be kidding me. Seriously?"

"Yeah. We were kissing long and hard. It was nice," he added as an afterthought.

Harry hung his head. Again, way too much information. He had come to Ron to escape this type of torture. Harry grinned despite of this.

"But I thought she was involved with Krum?"

"They broke up. He was too conceited."

Harry paused. "Was the kiss an accident, or on purpose?"

"I think on purpose."

"Oh…" Harry was silent for a time, then grinned. "Well, life certainly got a whole lot more interesting. One question: am I doomed to never have a girlfriend? I just learned that Dean has one. That's just depressing."

Ron cocked an eyebrow. "Can't be that bad. Who's Thomas's girlfriend?"

"Your sister."

"Oh. WHAT? I thought she was joking on the train. Oh, well."

"As I said, I don't think I'll ever get a girlfriend."

Oh, I dunno. (giggle) It might happen, Harry.

Harry jerked and felt himself blushing furiously. "Rose?" he called incredulously, but she was gone already.

"She's gotta stop doing that."

A/N okay, fine. Just PLEASE make sure you reply as soon as you've run out of chappies!!!!!!for the love of cheese, please!!!