The Realization
'The Butterfly... it has to be her... I mean, I keep having dreams about this girl, a butterfly like creature, and now I'm receiving roses from a butterfly...' Ron's thoughts were interrupted by his friend Harry.
"Hey Ron. Why did the girl through the butter out the window?"
"I don't know, Harry. Why?" replied Ron sarcastically.
"To see the butterfly! Hahahaha! Get it Ron?! To see the butterfly! Oh, I'm so witty."
"That's not very funny anymore, Harry. It was about the first six-million times, but not anymore."
"It was never funny. It is rude and inconsiderate of Ron's feelings, Harry," interjected their friend Hermoine.
"Just because you like me, doesn't mean you have to act like you don't!"
"Ron! You told him!"
"Told me what?"
"That I like you!"
"Uh... Hermoine... I never told him..."
"Wha... wha... what?! Oh, shit, I'm so embarrassed!"
"It's ok Hermoine, I was just joking." Said Harry quietly. "But, I... uh... sort of... um... like... uh... you too."
"Oh... uh... how... uh... sweet... uh..." said Ron, his voice oozing with sarcasm. At this Hermoine threw her overly large, book (600 Magical Cures For Your Everyday Hinkypunk Induced Injuries) at Ron.
"Bloody hell Hermoine! What was that for?"
" But just as Ron was saying the last syllable of the last word, Harry and Hermoine were already snogging on the couch in front of the fire.
"While you two are going at it, I'm going to head to bed. Don't make too much noise and don't forget protection."
As Ron said this he dodged another flying book, and walked up the stairs to bed.