A/N: This is a VALENTINES chap, so SUE ME for not getting it up last week because guess what? I JUST WROTE IT! SO THERE! Take that you- vicious author-eating shark/humans!

Cheers went up around the hall, and Hermione's lips met Ron's for the briefest of seconds, not long enough even to be called a brush of the lips, before she felt cold, icy cold water drenched on her. Dripping down her robes, soaking her hair, and making her and Ron jump simultaneously apart.

The student body broke out in loud guffaws as Hermione and Ron stood in shock holding their wet robes away from their bodies and searching for the source of their sudden damp situation.

Hermione was the first to determine it had come from above. Looking above she saw the resident problem-making ghost of Hogwarts cackling merrily and obviously enjoying the site below him very much.

"PEEVES!" Hermione screeched.

"Ah, hello dearies! How are my two little lovebirds tonight?"

"What? Lovebirds," Ron sputtered, his face flaming. "Ha!"

Before Ron could say anything else Peeves floated off, cackling merrily, and a second later out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione run out the door, and if he wasn't mistaken, and his eyesight wasn't failing him, she was sobbing.

A less dense person, possibly even Harry, could have interpreted what this meant. But seeing as Ron had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, the meaning evaded him.

The next morning was, awkward, to say the least, between the two. When Hermione and Ron happened to reach for the same salt shaker, Ron pulled back so quickly that his elbow knocked over his goblet, and in getting up, Ron managed to upset a bowl of fruit laying by his other hand, sending it flying. The bizarre turn of events continued when the pear, previously flying through the air, landed on Neville's fork, sending said fork straight into Dean's face.

"Bloody hell," Ron groaned.

"You know Ron you should-" Hermione started to say.

"Should what," Ron snarled.

Anger flashed across her face, but was gone before Ron was certain he had seen it, changing to a look of, almost, sadness.

"Nothing," she whispered and hurried out of the hall.

Later in the day when he tried to apologize, she ignored him, pretending to be too immersed in her notes.

Sensing that a simple apology would not do this time, Ron left her alone. Sitting up all night after the dance had made for some surprising revelations.

He'd known that he liked her, for a long time. He still remembered the exact moment he'd realized his feelings for one of his best friends stemmed deeper than friendship.

Ron sat idly twirling a quill in his fingertips as he leaned back in his chair and tried to listen to what Hermione was going on about.

"Ron! Are you even listening to me?"

He looked towards Hermione, holding a hand up and shielding his eyes against the sun blaring in the windows behind her.

The sun shone down on her hair, giving a sort of halo around her head, and her face seemed illuminated. Ron's breath caught in his throat, and his heart seemed to skip a beat, then thud painfully in his chest, as if to make up for the lost beat.

He stared- openmouthed, at her for Merlin knows how long, trying to process what his brain had just told him. What his heart had been telling him for so long, when he found his eyes straying in her direction more than they used to, and when his cheeks burned red whenever her hand accidentally brushed, but which he had steadfastly ignored for so far.

He had been 13, and had just realized that he liked his best friend.

Now he was 17, and he realized he loved his best friend.

The next month and 13 days continued much the way the last day had, minus the spectacular food displays at breakfast.

Tensions continued to rise between Ron and Hermione, who still studiously ignored Ron the rest of the month. In the flurry of after-break assignments that followed, payback for actually having fun, and the busy schedule of Head and Prefect duties, and in between Quidditch, the pair had no trouble finding a reason to avoid each other.

The only difference was the fact that Ron spent a freakishly- for Ron- amount of time in the library. When he finally appeared out of the dark recesses of the library, he took to following around Muggle-Borns, and bombarding them with questions about Merlin knew what.

His strange behavior reached a peak when, on the morning of Valentines, he was at breakfast early.

If anybody would have known what he was talking about, Harry would have used the Muggle phrase the phrase, "Call the presses!"

But since nobody would, he settled for being astounded. Shocked. Blown out of the water.

Wondering if this had anything to do with the strange behavior of his best mate of late, Harry shook his head and walked into the bathroom.

Just before the owl post came, Hermione was eating her porridge. Eating her porridge innocently, keeping to herself, doing absolutely NOTHING wrong. But of course some God, who was either PMS'ing, or probably having a crappy Valentines Day like herself, had to go take their troubles out on her.

And their troubles took the form of Colin Creevey. To be more precise, the form of Colin Creevey, standing in front of her, with a single yellow rose in his hand.

"Hi Hermione," Colin croaked, offering the rose, which was wilted and sad-looking.

"Uh- Hi, Colin. Can I help you," Hermione asked, a sense of foreboding pressing down onto her heart.

"Um, I was. .. wondering, wouldyougotothenextHogsmeadeweekendwithme?"

"Excuse me?"

Colin repeated it, looking down at his shoes, "Would you go to the next Hogsmeade weekend with me?"

"I- Well you see," Hermione trailed off, then rallied her Gryffindor courage and tried again. "I- I'm sorry Colin, but I'm, well, you see-" she stopped, hoping he would get the message and save her from having to say the rest.

"I see what," Collin asked a hopeful light in his eyes.

Sighing Hermione plowed on. "I, well, I can't. Because you see, I'm older, and, I would be uncomfortable."

"I'm very mature for my age," Collin offered.

"Yes, but you see, it just wouldn't work," Hermione said exasperatedly.

"Why not," Collin asked, looking hurt.

"Because."

"Because isn't a reason," Collin shot back childishly.

"Because I'm in love with somebody, okay," burst out of Hermione's mouth, before she could take them back.

Collin's face fell, and he nodded once, slowly, before trudging back to the other end of the table.

Just as she turned back to her porridge, the owl post came.

Expecting nothing, Hermione turned her face downwards and continued breakfast. Or tried to, until a large, brown school owl swooped down upon her.

The owl dropped the package, a large, brown parcel tied in string onto the table and flew off.

Not even waiting until she had a chance to untie it, the package sprang open, and a large red velvet heart flew off the table and into the air.

Clearing its throat it began to sing:

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day.
When it's cold outside I've got the month of May.
I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl (my girl, my girl)
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl).

Hermione's face burned as she stared, transfixed at the singing heart.

I've got so much honey the bees envy me.
I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees.
I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl (my girl, my girl)
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl).

The heart began to gush forth red, white, and pink confetti. It flew into the air and fluttered down to earth, falling on Hermione's hair and everybody around.

Hey hey hey
Hey hey hey
Ooooh.

Hermione fell oblivious to the stares of everyone in the hall, and to the whispers and sighs of the girls around her.

I don't need no money, fortune, or fame.
I've got all the riches baby one man can claim.
I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My girl (my girl, mt girl)
Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl).

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day
with my girl.
I've even got the month of May
with my girl

As it finished the song, it gushed forth one last shot of confetti, as if to make a last stand, and fell through the air to land on Hermione's shoulder.

She looked down at the package and saw a charm necklace lying at the bottom of the package.

She lifted it up in, smiling widely when she saw the largest charm on the necklace, Hogwarts, A History.

Underneath the necklace lay a note. It read simply:

This necklace will reveal who it was sent by only when the correct words are said.

You know the magic words.