AN : I'M BACK! Did you miss me? Didn't think so! After my long absence from the world of fanfiction I have decided to carry on with this story after seeing that I have some fantastic reviews – and one wacky weirdo – which I love! Keep the reviews coming!

Disclaimer : Even if I said all this was mine – would you believe me!

Deceptive Honesty

Hermione woke the following morning feeling distinctly ruffled and different. Everything from the beautifully light, crisp rays of early morning sun to the refreshing feeling of the cold stone floor against her bare feet as she slid out of bed for some reason brought an irregular frown to her face. Inside she was still thinking over her usual dream giving her a light headed feeling that made her face shine with glee, giving everyone in Gryffindor the idea that she was a 'morning person' – however this morning was different. Yes, she was happy. But only on the inside. Actually, more specifically, the more happy she felt, the more angry she looked.

Odd, she thought to herself whilst glancing at her reflection in the mirror, checking her Head Girl Badge was straight and gleaming as ever. However, as soon as the thought occurred to her, she saw her facial expression change to a look of pure enlightenment. Very odd…

Hermione continued to radiate opposing emotions to those that she inwardly felt as she walked down the stairs and through the common room. She gave what she thought was a friendly warm smile to Crookshanks, but what happened to be in fact a severe scowl. A small group of Gryffindor first-years scrambled out of her path deciding not to voice within ear-shot of the decidedly grumpy looking head of school that she had 'got out of the wrong side of the bed'.

Crookshanks, far from being a normal cat, smelled something amiss. He clambered up to the boys dormitory knowing that if anyone could cheer up his faithful owner it would be Harry and Ron.

Ron, who held grudges longer than a piece of elastic, still despised Crookshanks since third year. However this morning, when the feline decided to wake him by climbing on to his chest and purring loudly – Ron showed no normal signs of hatred. Instead Ron slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes with one hand, while stroking the bandy-legged companion with the other.

Hearing noises from Ron's four-poster, Harry began to awake. Grabbing his glasses from his bedside table and carefully slipping them onto his nose the watched the scene before him come into focus. If he wasn't still dreaming, which Harry was pretty sure he wasn't, Ron was being nice to Crookshanks. Harry groaned at the realisation that the previous night's potion effects hadn't worn off – how much longer would Ron behave in opposing ways to how he felt? Was Hermione still bewitched? How the hell was he supposed to deal with the two today?

Ron, hearing Harry groan, turned his head towards his wide-awake best friend, the person whom he could depend on entirely, he could go to the depths of hell and Harry would always stand by his side. Ron knew that Harry would miss Ron more than anyone else in the world, and Ron felt the same… well… almost… as much as he cared for Harry, Ron was honest enough with himself to admit that a strong contender for most sorely missed had to be Hermione.

Weird emotions flitted across Ron's face as Harry watched him from the safety of his bed. Harry almost scared of Ron's expressions of deepest loathing had to remind himself that it was just the effects of the potion and that they would soon wear off. Or so he hoped…

"I hate Hermione." Ron muttered to himself, unknowing that he had spoken some of his feelings (well… the opposite) aloud.

It was a statement – not a question. Harry stared. How should he react? Should he behave as though Ron had said the opposite, as Harry knew he inwardly meant, or should he treat the statement as it was presented…

"Erm…" Harry stuttered, words failed him.

"I'm going to show her how much I really detest her. I'm going to take the thing she cares about most and destroy them. I'm going to ruin her lessons. Stupid know-it-all – that'll show her."

Then, without another word, Ron strode from the dormitory. Harry raced after him – what the hell was he going to do? Ron was on the warpath to ruin Hermione's day!

"Harry!" Harry turned and was glad to see a friendly face. Ginny, however friendly she normally was however this morning was utterly miserable, she looked on the verge of tears.

Harry soon enveloped her in his arms and stroked her fiery red hair. The young girl wept on to his shoulder unashamedly muttering incoherently, Harry only picking up random words such as "hopeless", "should never have", "what now?"

"It'll be ok," Harry crooned, trying to convince himself nearly as much as Ginny.

"No Harry! It won't!" suddenly finding her voice she erupted at him in a fit of anger that made Harry wonder whether she had been eating any strange ice-cream recently but then, seeing Ginny try and gain control over herself and wringing her wrists in an irritated fashion, was reminded how very much like Mrs Weasley the youngest red-head was.

"You don't understand… I've been up researching all night – looking into the affects of the potion. Trying to find out what went wrong. And… and it… well…" gathering up the last of her strength before losing her voice again she speedily spluttered, "and-it-won't-stop-till-they-both-admit-each-other-the-truth!"

"What?" Harry was flabbergasted. How were they going to get Ron and Hermione to admit one another's true feelings when every word, action and expression each did was an absolute betrayal of their feelings.

Harry was unsure how long they both sat on the Gryffindor couch but when Harry looked at his watch he was considerably late for class. "Don't worry! I'll sort it out… it'll... it'll be ok…" then giving her a quick reassuring kiss on the cheek rushed off to potions.

Whilst Harry ran at break-neck speed dreading how furious Snape was going to be Ginny sat in the warm Gryffindor common room, one hand glued to the spot that felt so empty now that he had left it on the scarlet sofa, the other to her cheek, which was glowing a fiercer red than both her hair and the burning embers of the fire put together.

However if Snape was angry with Harry when he finally arrived to the lessons, it was nothing to how he felt about Ron.

Snape was livid.

Ron had brought his broom to the lesson, but what was more every now and again he would rise from his seat and begin sweeping the floor with it muttering, "Can't stand this pigsty any longer".