Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way down the stone steps, growing colder with each step. They reached the landing of the potion's classroom, where the rest of the class was assembled. Malfoy spotted Hermione, moved over next to her and snaked his arm around her shoulder. To Ron's horror, she giggled and moved out from under it playfully.

"Oh, Malfoy, you're such a flirt," she said, slapping him playfully on the shoulder.

"Hermione, my dear, please, call me Draco," He said with a smirk and swept back to Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione's face continued to stay a brilliant shade of magenta. She turned around and whispered to them, "Oh, he's nice now. Let's give him a chance guys!"

"We'll do nothing of the sort!" Harry growled.

"What did you think you were doing?" Ron said feverishly.

"He's a future death eater! You don't flirt with someone like that!"

"He hasn't changed; he's just a good actor."

"He's trying to do you in; you can see it from a mile away."

"Will you two be quiet? I know all this, but…well…I don't know. He seems different," Hermione interrupted. She continued hurriedly when Ron and Harry opened their mouths furiously. "All right! All right! I'll watch myself, I promise. And if I get any weird vibes then I'll smack him upside the head."

"Good, he doesn't deserve you, little piece of dung that he is," Ron muttered.

That night in the common room, Ron was furiously whispering about the injustice of it all to Harry while Hermione was upstairs in the shower.

"Look, why don't you take some initiative and tell her it was really you! I'm sure she'd believe you over Malfoy," Harry eventually said heatedly. Ron's anger was making him blot his homework.

"That's a good idea, thanks," Ron said, his mood uplifted immediately.

"Yeah, because you couldn't think of it yourself, Einstein," Harry muttered.

Confused, Ron looked up. "Einstein? Who in the bloody hell is that?" But before Harry could answer, Hermione was making her way slowly down the stairs, wrapping her hair up in a towel. She had changed into flannel pajamas, and her nose was wrinkled in concentration. Her nose was so cute scrunched up like that, Ron thought; no wonder other guys were starting to notice her beauty.

"Hey, Harry, you want to go upstairs and get my spare quill for me?" Ron said hintingly as Hermione joined them.

"No, go and get it yourself, you lazy bum," Harry said without looking up.

"But Harry, I forgot where it is because you put it somewhere. So could you PLEASE go and get it for me?" Ron asked, kicking Harry's shin's under the table as he spoke.

"Ow! What was-Oooh! Right, yeah, I'll go and get it," Harry said and bustled upstairs. Hermione was looking at Ron, slightly puzzled.

"So, what's so important that you wanted us to be alone?" Hermione asked knowingly.

Ron looked up quickly and flushed, there was no getting anything past Hermione. She was too sharp. He opened his mouth and once again felt the sensation of his body going haywire.

"Okay, you know how Malfoy said he was your secret admirer?" He asked.

"Yeah..so?" Hermione replied.

"Well..erm..he lied. Your real secret admirer was..er..me.." Ron finished somewhat lamely.

Hermione stared for a moment then burst out laughing. "Jeez, you had me going for a second there, Ron. Nice one," She shook her head and pulled her hair out of the towel.

Ron stared for a moment with his mouth open slightly. She didn't believe him. He had been so sure she would have, but she didn't. How could she believe that slimy git and not him?

And just watching her and knowing he couldn't hold her in his arms was killing him. He had felt this longing for the past six years; it was all too familiar to him. He didn't know how much longer he could bear it. He wanted to hold her close to him and know she was his, without any threat from anyone else. And yet she'd rather have her worst enemy of five years embrace her than one of her best friends. It was so unfair. He didn't have anything close to what Malfoy had, and soon enough, Malfoy would have one more thing than him.

"Hermione, I-I was telling the truth," Ron said quietly.

"Okay, Ron, and I'm Professor McGonagall," Hermione replied, not looking up. She had sent the towel back up to her dormitory with a quick flick of her wand and conjured a brush which she was now using to untangle her mess of wet hair.

Harry, by this time, had returned and Ron decided not to pursue the subject further, there was no way to convince her. He damned his past self for tricking her so many times. Maybe if he hadn't, she'd believe him now.

For the next hour and a half he sat, trying to focus on his homework, but his mind was buzzing too much now for that. He eventually packed up his things, bade them good night, and trudged up to his dormitory. He slumped onto his bed and stared up at the crimson canopy, cursing everyone from Malfoy to Professor Dumbledore. A few minutes later, Harry came in.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked, pulling back the curtains.

Ron turned his head slowly and said quietly, "She didn't believe me."

"What?!?"

"Nope."

"I'll talk to her for you. I'll show her sense..she didn't believe you, how could she not?" Harry said, turning away and muttering about the injustice of the whole thing. Ron turned his face back up to the canopy and fell into an uneasy slumber.