YAY! Cookies for everyone who reviewed ::starts handing out cookies::

Thank you so much, I'm glad someone has been reading it! This makes me a very happy camper indeed! And I will try to take your advice, since it is actually good advice... except for the ones that contradict each other, as I can't have it end with Hermione both holding a grudge and forgiving Ron at the same time...or can I? ::laughs evilly! Mwahahahahahahahahahahahaha.... evil laughter ensues for quite some time::

Anywhoodles, onward!

Oh, and still, less than nothing... : (

Ron knew that getting Hermione to stay in the same room as him long enough to give her the pin was going to be difficult. As it turned out, however, difficult was the understatement of the century (and even that was an understatement). He may as well have tried to convince Hagrid that dragons really weren't pets and that Fluffy really wasn't "cute." And then some.

"You know," said Harry that evening at dinner, "she's not mad at me. I could give it to her for you."

"Yeah, but the whole point of this was so that she'd forgive me," Ron said, stabbing his food with his fork. "It seems kind of pointless to have somebody else do it."

"Well, I'm sure once she found out what you did, she'd forgive you, even if you weren't the person who told her," Harry pointed out. It seemed a rather obvious solution to him. Ron, however, it seemed, was going to be a stubborn prat and drag this thing out much longer than was necessary.

Ron sighed and didn't respond, but continued to mutilate his food. He didn't really want to talk about it anymore. Besides, he was anxious to leave the Great Hall; he could feel McGonagall giving him a "look." It seemed as though she knew he hadn't yet told Hermione that she had been reinstated as prefect, and wasn't happy about it.

Finally, Ron gave up trying to eat (or rather, gave up trying to kill his food), and stood up to leave.

"Going to try and talk to Hermione again?" Harry asked. "Because you know it's not going to end any better than it did after Potions, or during lunch, or after Charms, or-"

"Oh shut it Harry, I get your bloody point!" Ron snapped. Harry looked a bit taken aback, but didn't say anything. Ron's outburst was quickly followed by a groan as he sank back into his seat, his head in his hands.

"Oh bugger," he said emphatically, "you're right. This isn't going to work any better," Harry looked relieved for a minute. But then Ron spoke again, "but I still have to try, at least one more time," he finished, looking miserable.

"And if she doesn't listen?" Harry asked.

"If she doesn't listen this time, I think I'm going to feed myself to the giant squid and be done with it, because this is killing me," he replied with conviction. "I mean really, I know she's mad at me, but she won't listen even for a second. Well, I'm off to try again," he said, standing up once more. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to- again.

Some time later, Ron finally found Hermione sitting in the common room by the fire. She was doing her homework, not that he expected anything different from her. Hermione didn't seem to notice Ron's presence in the room; if she had, she almost certainly would have jumped up and left immediately. Rather than say anything, Ron simply stood and watched her for a moment, ignoring anyone else who happened to be in the room. This was probably a good thing, considering most of them were giving him odd looks.

Hermione was sitting cross legged on a small sofa, parchment, books, and spare quills filling the space around her. She had a book on her lap, and as she read, she moved the tip of the quill she was holding along, as if mentally underlining every line she read. The soft light from the firelight cast a warm glow around her, making her frizzy brown hair appear almost as a halo around her head, rather than a large mass of hair. Ron smiled in spite of himself. She looked so beautiful, so serene; it was hard to imagine that one look at him was all it took to send her off into a rage to rival his mother when she was angry.

Ron took a deep breath, and walked over to Hermione. He had already decided to try a different tactic than his previous attempts to explain what he had done, seeing as how this conversation had ended in something akin to verbal whiplash in the past. Rather than try to explain first and then give her back the prefect pin, he decided to give her the pin first, and then explain. He hoped that actually getting the pin would make her a bit more amenable to listening to what he had to say.

What one wants and what one gets are often two very different things, however.

He approached Hermione with caution. Unfortunately, she caught sight of him before he could utter a word.

"You!" she spat out, with, what Ron reckoned to be, more venom than a basilisk. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear to you before!" She hadn't bothered even trying to keep her voice down this time.

"Hermione..." Ron began.

"I told you, I don't ever want to speak to you again!"

"Hermione, I have..." he tried again, holding out his hand, which contained her pin.

"I DON'T CARE!" she screamed out. She furiously gathered all of her books and parchment, not even caring that she was getting ink down her front from her quill.

"Hermione, please, I have some..."

"I don't care what you have, Ron, I just don't want to hear it!" she stormed off to the girl's dormitory.

"Hermione, wait!" Ron yelled, trying to go after her, "Hermione, please, I have something for you!" It was no use; she had ducked into one of the rooms upstairs as he tried to follow her, only to be repelled back down by the wards set up to keep the boys out of the girl's dormitory. He landed sprawled on his back in the middle of the common room floor.

"Oh, bloody hell!" Ron shouted in frustration, painfully aware that everyone in the room was now staring at him. He picked himself up off the floor, trying to salvage the little bit of dignity he still had left. He failed to, though, when he noticed a group of second years in the corner giggling at him.

"Oh, sod off, you stupid twits!" he spat, more than slightly angry. This had the effect of eliciting another round giggles. Ron threw his arms into the air, and stalked off to his dormitory to "lick his wounds," so to speak. He was dreading tomorrow. Not only did he still have to talk to Hermione, but he knew that there would be a howler from his mum waiting for him at breakfast.

Harry came up a few minutes later, and plopped himself down on his bed. He was about to ask how it went, but one look at Ron's face told him all he needed to know.

"Not so good, eh?" he asked, almost rhetorically.

"Gee, what gave it away?" Ron replied, his voice dripping in sarcasm. He sighed, and they sat in silence for a minute. And suddenly, Ron had an idea. A wonderful idea. Ron had a wonderfully horrible idea. He would dress up as Santa and...oh wait, that's the Grinch, never mind. But Ron did, actually, have an idea, it just wasn't wonderfully horrible... it wasn't really wonderful, either. But it was an idea.

"Hey, Harry, can I borrow Hedwig?"

Alright, so ends another chapter. The next on will probably be the last one. Of course, that's what I thought about this one, so stay tuned!

Oh, and sorry for the Grinch moment, I couldn't resist! (it's from the cartoon version, btw... the only version worth watching, if you ask me)...err, it's late, so don't mind me...

And to Solo FLora...you'll see... the thought had crossed my mind, though...

And don't forget to leave a review on the way out!