Summary: Ron always wanted to be rich. When he wakes up to a different life from his own, he realizes being rich has its consequences. Hermione has still remained intangible but this time, she's his enemy.

Disclaimer: Sorry, I'm not JKR. Wish I was, but I'm not. So sue me if you want, but you'll only get cookie crumbs, a piece of bread, and a half-eaten Baskin Robbins ice cream cake (it might melt in the mail, though).

A/N: Hi! Wow, thanks for all the reviews…especially bant, luckyducky8200, nenahispana, HogwartzBoizRHottiez, and Kalasin. To clear everything up, Ron fell asleep and is in a different world. No dream, but it's real… The reason why will probably be vague, just to let you know. It's like those kind of…make-up-your-own-opinion about it stories. Well, on with the story…

Intangible

By: Miss Skeeter

Chapter Two

Questions Without Answers

He nervously dropped his bag onto the desk, his eyes fixing onto her shimmering, honey eyes. She tied her bushy brown locks into a messy bun, a few strands falling gently onto her glowing face. Her delicate hand clutched a quill, and her scrawl curled into bold words on the piece of parchment before her. He stared at her mouth, bewildered at the nasty frown she gave him. Her eyes narrowed, and she turned her head swiftly back toward McGonagall without a single word.

Ron turned to Dean and Seamus across the room, watching them laugh silently at him with twinkling eyes. Harry merely shot Hermione an irritated glance before setting a sympathetic stare at him. He whirled toward Hermione, suddenly noting her large front teeth. She looked more like she did in their third year than she did now--or in his world.

"Hey, um, what are we…er doing?" Ron stammered. He cursed himself immediately. This Ron would never stutter or blush!

"Why do you care?" Hermione snapped witheringly. "You never pay attention, Weasley." Venom dripped from her voice as she uttered his name as though she would Malfoy's. Ron shuddered slightly, his face twisted into an incredulous look.

"Well, can you tell me now?" Ron wondered. He struggled to keep a blush from rising to his cheeks as he stared into Hermione's eyes, filled with hatred and irritation.

"If you care, it's about the subject, Animagus," she snapped grudgingly. "Please be quiet. You're ruining my concentration." She turned her head back to McGonagall intently, her hand scribbling down each and every word uttered from the professor's mouth.

"Oh," Ron said. "You know plenty about Animaguses, 'Mione."

"What did you call me, Weasley?" Hermione snarled quietly, eyes narrowing. "Why do always insist on teasing me? Gods, and don't call me 'Mione like I'm your…friend!"

"You are," Ron insisted desperately. Why was Hermione acting so…nasty toward him? Even if they fought, she never showed as much spite for him as this. "You, me, and Harry." Hermione gave a quiet, bitter laugh.

"No," she corrected him. "I'm not stupid. You and Harry are friends. I'm not your friend…anything but, Weasley! It's always you insulting me, pushing books out of my arms, tearing up my notes…no, we aren't friends. And I believe the correct grammar would be 'you, Harry, and I'."

Ron stared. He tore up her notes…pushed her books out of her arms…and insulted her? They obviously weren't friends but enemies. Or rather a bully and his prey.

"But--" The bell rang, announcing their leave and cutting off Ron to Hermione's displeasure. Several relieved students jumped to their feet, cramming their Transfiguration books into their bags. Over the clamor, Professor McGonagall shouted their homework. "And detention tomorrow at seven, Weasley! My office."

Ron picked up his bag, shouldering it carefully. Hermione recklessly shoved past him, folding her notes angrily. "Stupid Weasley," she muttered as she followed the class through the door. Dean, Seamus, and Harry waited patiently as he hurried toward them, flustered.

"Hey, how was sitting next to Ms. Uptight?" Dean asked guffawing.

"Wonderful," he replied dryly. In fact, her stinging comments hurt him. He reminded himself that Hermione in the real world would value him as a friend. He also reminded himself that he would never confess his love for her in the real world either. He cursed quietly, knowing that in both worlds he could never have Hermione. Unless…unless he did something about it.

"Saw you talking to her," Seamus said grinning. "She looked mad."

"Yeah," Ron said offhandedly.

"So…up to doing something?" Dean asked mischievously. "Let's enlarge her teeth. Like they needed it anyways." The boys laughed, and Ron glowered defensively at them.

"Shut it, Thomas," he snapped angrily. "Don't talk about her like that."

"That's what you said last week," Dean countered. "Since when did you stick up for little Know-it-all?"

"Since I became her friend!" Ron snarled. "Why do you need to make her life miserable?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Seamus asked furiously. Harry stared silently at Ron, his eyes inquiring him. "Gods, it's like you've changed."

"I have," Ron said coldly. "Did you even get a chance to know her? If you did, you'd see what I see."

"What's that? A bushy-haired, bossy know-it-all?" Seamus said sardonically.

"No, I think she's pretty," Ron blurted out. He blushed immediately, whirling around. "I'll see you." His feet carried him quickly down the corridor, leading him amid a thick crowd of students. Heat crept up his neck, and his ears reddened. He clapped his hand over his mouth, chewing on his tongue furiously. "Stupid, stupid! I'm in a different world now." A world where Hermione was intangible…not much changed from the real world about that.

"I need to talk to…Dumbledore," Ron said running a hand distractedly through his fiery mop. "Harry." He paused, wondering whether his friend would believe him or merely laugh and tell him to visit the infirmary.

He sighed, glancing about the corridor. "Hermione?" He shook his head. She would scream at him and shrug it off as a prank. He vaguely remembered that this Hermione…this Hermione was what Hermione could've been if not she befriended Harry and him.

"Granger, you mean?" an amused voice asked. Ron whirled around, staring to a pair of twinkling emerald eyes behind spectacles. "Want to talk? Who cast a Memory Charm on you?" A smirk crossed Harry's face.

"No one," Ron said anxiously. He leaned against the stone wall, glancing at the empty classroom beside him. "C'mon." He slipped through the door, anxiety mounting quickly. What if Harry thought he was a lunatic? Harry followed him inside, pointing his wand at the door. The handle twisted and clicked loudly, announcing the locked door. He muttered a few words underneath his breath, prodding at the door carefully. Straightening, he turned to Ron, hitching a smile on his face.

"Well? Spill." Harry comfortably climbed onto a desk, his legs stretching across to another desk.

"Please believe me," Ron began, pacing. "And don't send me to St. Mungo's. I…I'm in the wrong world, Harry." He stopped, studying his friend's bewildered expression. "I live in a different world. First of all, I'm poor. My father is not the Minister of Magic…but Cornelius Fudge is. Sirius never cleared his name, and he…" He paused, contemplating whether he should inform Harry Sirius had died. He shook his head. "He…doesn't live with you. Hermione is our friend…we saved her from a troll and became friends. She's not as uptight as she is here and--and I like her, okay?" Silence hovered between them. Ron ignored Harry's eyes penetrating him and glanced out the window, absentmindedly watching the sun sink beneath the hills. Pink streaks stretched across the glowing sky.

Laughter pierced the tension. "You could've just said you liked her instead of that bull," Harry said grinning. "No wonder you tease her so much!"

"No!" Ron yelled frustrated. Harry pressed his lips together, his eyes examining Ron seriously. "You don't get it! I'm telling the bloody truth!" He raked his fingers through his hair. "I knew you wouldn't believe me…"

Harry stared uncertainly at Ron. "I'm not sure what to believe," he said honestly, dropping his legs from the desk. "I mean…you look so serious but what if you're just…I don't know."

"Loony?" Ron said coldly. He sighed. He hated the skeptical look Harry flashed him. He hated the fact that no one would believe. He just wanted to go back to his own world with his same worries and habit of blushing.

"Look straight into my eyes, and tell me you're not lying," Harry said determinedly. Ron bore his eyes into Harry's, his jaw set.

"I'm not lying," Ron said slowly, articulating each word.

"Bloody hell," Harry said eyes widening.

"So are you telling me, Granger and I are friends?" Harry asked incredulously, munching on a scone. "And you like her?"

"Yeah," Ron answered for the fourth time. "Believe it."

"You just woke up…here?" Harry inquired, shoving the rest of the scone into his mouth. He licked at the few crumbs around his lips before swallowing.

"Yeah," Ron repeated. "But don't tell anyone, or they'll think I escaped from St. Mungo's. It's so different…I mean, just because I'm rich, you know? I never knew being poor effected all the events that happened in my world."

"What happened?" Harry asked quietly. "Sirius didn't get his name cleared?"

"Fudge is the Minister of Magic," Ron explained. "So he doesn't believe us. My father more likely believes Sirius, right? I mean, if Dumbledore believes him and all…probably used a Truth Potion on him."

"Yeah, exactly," Harry said handing Ron a Chocolate Frog. Ron accepted it gratefully, unwrapping the Frog and biting off its head. "So what happens? Does Sirius die?" His face darkened at the thought.

"No," Ron lied. "He's just on the loose, as Fudge likes to call it. You and Hermione saved him from the Dementor's Kiss. "

"Granger?" Harry said disbelievingly. "Whoa, she's different in your world. Is she pretty?" Ron glared at Harry.

"She's pretty here, too," Ron snapped irritably. "Just bossy."

"With big, chipmunk teeth," Harry added before shooting an apologetic glance at Ron. "I don't really mean it…I guess. I mean, I'm not friends with her so…sorry. So you like her?"

"Yeah. I can't tell her though," Ron said miserably. "She hates me here…and I can't tell her back home."

"Well, make the best of it, mate," Harry said wisely. "If you like her, make friends with her here…and ask Dumbledore how to get back to your world. I mean, then I'll get the old Ron back, and you'll get the old Harry."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I'd better tell Dumbledore. Then catch up to Hermione…"

"I don't see why you like her," Harry said shrugging. "My other counterpart might."

"Maybe," Ron said blushing. "She absolutely hates me here."

"Yes, she does," Harry said smirking. "You'll have a hard time reeling her in. She's the only lady who won't take you."

"Not like I have much charm," Ron muttered to himself. They halted short at the gargoyles, frowning slightly. "Password, Harry?"

"Um…lemon drop?" Harry guessed. The gargoyles planted firmly to the ground. "Chocolate Frogs, Cockroach Clusters…Sugar Quill?" The gargoyles slid apart, allowing them to pass through the opening. They glided onto the moving staircase easily, finding themselves facing the shiny, oak door.

Ron grabbed the cold knocker, knocking it against the wood. Bang. Bang.

"Come in." Ron twisted the knob, pushing the door open swiftly. The soft murmurs of the portraits buzzed in his ears. His eyes feasted upon the eccentric office he vaguely remembered from a few years back. Silver instruments whirred on desk, and the frayed, patched Sorting Hat drooped on his shelf with the shimmering sword he recognized from the Chamber of Secrets. Harry, caked with blood and dripping with slime, emerged from the rocks with the sword in his hand and Ginny beside him. Ron smirked at Harry's resemblance to a knight in shining armor.

"Fawkes," Ron acknowledged, staring at the phoenix with its gold and scarlet plume. He stroked its head, staring at its feathers apprehensively. He recalled holding them as the bird fluttered up the tunnel into Mourning Myrtle's bathroom. He suddenly noticed Dumbledore's sapphire eyes penetrating him, and he immediately snapped from out of his thoughts.

"What is it that brings you two today?" the Headmaster asked. His silver beard brushed his table as he reached over to snatch a tin. He opened it, plopping a yellow candy into his mouth. "Lemon drop?" He offered the tin to them, but they politely declined.

"I need to discuss something important with you, Professor," Ron said hastily. Dumbledore gazed at Ron curiously. He uncomfortably lowered his eyes, reddening slightly at the attention the portraits and Dumbledore gave him. He could almost see the inhabitants of the portraits peeking at him from underneath their half-closed eyelids.

"Well, and that's it, Professor," Ron concluded, his eyes anxiously searching Dumbledore's face. "I don't know why I'm here."

Dumbledore leaned toward Ron, his sapphire eyes twinkling. "There's something you need to accomplish here," he said wisely. "I suggest you complete it before returning to your own world. Meanwhile, you may take classes here. Hogwarts is indeed a strange place filled with magic…I cannot help you in this turn of events, but I trust that you and Mr. Potter keep your mouths shut until you're deemed to leave."

Ron raised a brow, exchanging a confused look with Harry. "Go on, now. I believe you have Charms in a few minutes," Dumbledore said firmly, plopping a lemon drop into his mouth.

"Bye, Professor," Ron said disappointment laced in his voice. He closed the door shut behind him, staring into Harry's face with despair. "What do I need to do here?"

"I dunno," Harry said shrugging. "Maybe instead of getting Ts, you can get a E on your next Charms essay." Ron cracked a smile. Harry twisted his face into a serious look.
"But…maybe it's something you couldn't do in your world…that you can do here. You know? Or something that you need to change to this Ron. Not that you need anything changed anyways," Harry added quickly.

Ron followed Harry in silence, his brain working furiously to answer the questions roaming through his head.