A/N: YAY!!! Thank you guys so much for getting me to the 300 mark! You have no idea how excited that makes me! Thank you all so much! I love you all like a fat kid loves cake! (Okay, so I've been listening to too much 50 Cent…what can I say?) Alright, so here's the next chapter for you guys, and I hope you like it. Make sure to review when you're done!!

Lauren

Disclaimer: Disclaimers are stupid. Like I would actually ever try to pass off my work as JK's. I'm not stupid, you know.

Okay, so maybe a little bit. But I'm not that stupid.

Okay, so I am that stupid, but I've been told not to do it, so I won't. So there.

All right, well, that's not the point anyway. The point is, I'm not JK. And I'm too stupid to own any of these characters.

Humph.

Chapter Fifteen

Another One Bites the Dust

"Ron, tell me when Malfoy comes in."

They were seated at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall: Ron was next to Hermione, who was across from Harry, who was next to Ginny. Ron looked slyly over Hermione's right shoulder, carefully catching a glimpse of the doorway: no sign of him yet.

"Okay, wait, Hermione, remind me again what the plan is exactly?" Harry said, mindful to swallow his mouthful of Shepard's pie before he spoke. "Because I don't think I quite understand…how are you getting back at Malfoy?"

"Well, you see, Malfoy is under the impression that, during our meeting in the Room of Requirement, I'm going to profess my undying lust for him, after which I assume he'll do something of the same. Now, when this happens, I'm simply going to…well, I can't give it away, that would ruin the whole surprise!"

Ron growled, frustrated, but Hermione just turned and smiled in his face. Harry cleared his throat and glanced at Ginny, who was, again, sniggering into her palms. Ron rolled his eyes and stole another glance over Hermione's shoulder. Just then, Crabbe walked in, followed by Goyle, which meant Malfoy was only a few seconds behind.

"Well, Mione, surprise away. He's about to walk in," he said, nodding his head in the direction of the doorway. Hermione straightened up instantly and put down her cup. Ginny's eyebrows rose to the middle of her forehead as Hermione looked up at her. They locked eyes for a moment, exchanging a silent glance of understanding. Ginny nodded as if to wish her good luck, and Hermione nodded back. She stood up, winked at Harry, and gave Ron a comforting rub on his shoulder. He looked up at her, giving her a weak smile; she returned it three-fold, reaching her hand out to hold his face and gently stroking his cheek. He felt his face growing warm, and worried she would notice, but she let go just in time. They watched as she strutted her way over to the Slytherin table, Ginny resuming her giggling, and Harry and Ron exchanging wondering looks.

From the table, they could see her bent over, speaking to Malfoy from behind him, whispering into his ear. After a moment, Malfoy turned around, glanced at the two idiots seated next to him on both sides, and nodded his head toward the door. Hermione straightened up, looked once more at him, and walked, slowly, down the pass and into the entrance hall.

Malfoy turned to Crabbe (or, at least, they thought it was Crabbe, but these days it was impossible to tell him and Goyle apart), spoke a few words, then stood up and made his way into the entrance hall as well.

Ginny's face was, at this point, burning red. She was laughing so hard she looked like she might have just spontaneously combusted at any second. Ron looked down at his plate uneasily, trying to ignore the odd rumbling in his stomach.

"Hey, you guys, look," Harry said suddenly. Ron looked up, and Ginny uncovered her eyes, which were now filled with tears she was laughing so hard.

"Hello, Master Harry Potter! Where is Hermione?" came a small, squeaky voice from a few feet below them.

Dobby was standing at the end of the table, carrying a cake so large it successfully hid his entire face from view—ears included. He was only recognizable by the large feet that seemed to extend from the bottom of the beautifully decorated cake.

"Hello Dobby!" Harry said, reaching out his hands. "Would you like some help with that?"

"Oh, still after all this time, Harry Potter is so kind! Thank you, Harry Potter, thank you," he responded, clasping his hands together in joy as Harry set the cake down on the table. "Dobby is so glad to be seeing Master Potter and his friends, the Wheezys."

"Well, we're glad to see you too, Dobby," Ron said, cheering up quite a bit. It was a bit hard staying so glum when there was a gorgeous cake sitting in front of him.

"But where is Hermione? We cannot sing happy birthday unless the birthday girl is here."

Ron, Ginny, and Harry exchanged awkward glances.

"Well, she's um…she went to, uh, well, you see…"

"I think she uh, went upstairs to uh, you know, get something…"

"She's probably in the loo, she told me she had to use the bathroom before we sat down…"

Dobby shrugged his shoulders, his eyes downcast.

"Oh well, Dobby will have to wish her a happy birthday later," he said, and with a lackadaisical grin, he turned around to leave. Harry gave Ginny a sad look and was just about to comment on how sweet it was he had baked her a cake when they heard a shrill shriek from the hallway.

"What the—"

Hermione entered the Great Hall about ten seconds later, tossing her hair nonchalantly over one shoulder. She made her way over to the table and, before she could even sit down, noticed the cake sitting on the table.

"Hermione, what the bloody hell—" Ron started.

"Miss Hermione, happy birthday!"

"Oh, Dobby, you made this for me?" she asked, looking down at the small house-elf.

"Yes, Dobby hopes you don't mind, it wasn't much work at all, and we enjoyed doing it!" he said in his most cheerful voice, hoping she would be swayed. Hermione frowned slightly.

"I believe you Dobby, though honestly, you shouldn't have done it. I mean, there are so many other things you could have been doing that would have been more productive, like reading maybe, or working on your socks, or possibly sitting in front of the fire or something recreational—"

"What she really means to say 'thank you'," Ron said lightly. Hermione looked at him crossly.

"No, I'm serious, there's lots of other things—I'm sorry, Dobby," she said, stopping because of the look Ron was giving her. "I'm sorry. It's beautiful, I love it. Thank you so much."

Dobby smiled, a tear building up in his eye. He grabbed her around her legs and hugged them tightly, seemingly unable to let her go, until finally Harry had to come around and pry his hands free.

"Dobby's sorry, sir, just so overwhelmed! She likes the cake! But Miss Hermione, you has to try it!"

Hermione sat down, picked up the knife next to her plate, and cut a medium-sized slice. She picked up her own plate (as it was the only one clean) and plopped the cake onto it, watching it carefully before she decided to dig her fork into it. (She hadn't forgotten the sock cake rumor…)

Without hesitation, she stuck the fork in her mouth. The others watched her, waiting for her reaction, Dobby rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. After a moment, Hermione smiled.

"Dobby, this is delicious!" she cried, putting down her fork to cut some more slices. Soon, everyone was devouring their own slice of cake happily, and Dobby was nearly in tears.

"Dobby is so glad you like it, miss!"

It turned out it was not a sock cake, much to Ron and Harry's disappointment. However, it was the best chocolate cake any of them had ever tasted in their lives, which, in their eyes, was just as wonderful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, Hermione, so where did he go off to then? You returned, yet he didn't…what's going on?" Harry asked, once they had finished their cake and Dobby had left.

"Oh…well, it appeared as though he needed some ice, and so I prompted him to go see Madame Pomfrey as quickly as possible. I suppose he just heeded my advice, although to be honest he may just still be laying there on the floor, writhing around like an idiot," she answered, shrugging. Ron's face turned pale as his eyes jumped out of their sockets. Ginny stared at Hermione, speechless, and suddenly burst out laughing, while Harry crossed his legs uncomfortably and felt a knot form in his throat. And Hermione just smiled and continued pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Oh, is that what that scream was then? It sounded like someone strangling a hippogriff!" Ginny said, gesticulating and grasping the air as an example, in case no one knew what strangling a hippogriff would look like.

Hermione laughed, but Harry and Ron were silent, looking as though they'd seen a ghost. Ron turned to her, looking extremely appalled.

"Hermione, you can't just go around…doing that to people," Ron said, regaining his composure but not enough to be able to comfortably address the situation; as he spoke, his cheeks turned red and he stuttered just thinking about it. Harry nodded in agreement, still too stunned to speak. Ginny, however, applauded her bravery.

"It's about bloody time someone did something. Bravo, Herm, bravo!" she said, clapping softly. Hermione straightened up.

"Well, you're absolutely right, Ginny, which is why I did it. You both," she indicated the boys, "know I wouldn't normally go around doing that! He just deserved it, that's all."

Ron looked at her, still surprised, but smiling.

"Well, you are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Ron, aren't you going to get any work done? It's eight thirty and you haven't even started on anything."

Hermione leaned to her side to look over at Ron, who was lounging comfortably in the chair next to her. The fire was so warm and comfortable in the common room that Ron found it would be too difficult to try to get anything done, so he merely relaxed as Hermione did her Transfiguration. Harry and Ginny were in the corner again, reading more Shakespeare; this time it was Othello, which seemed to offend Ginny quite a bit. The common room was otherwise empty, which added to the calming factors of the fire.

"Hermione, I don't know if you've noticed, but you're doing homework. On your birthday. Both clearly signs of a loon."

"Ron, I am not crazy for wanting to get my homework done and get good grades," she retorted, not looking up from her paper. "I'm just being smart and getting it over with, and I suggest, though most likely in vain, that you do the same."

Ron watched her as she so neatly stroked her quill across the parchment, each word oozing with perfection. Compared to his scrawl, her writing was heavenly. He ran his hand through his hair and looked out the window, suddenly overcome with the need to be outside. He looked back at Hermione tentatively, wondering if he should request her company on a walk around the grounds…she would probably say no, seeing as how she'd just told him that eight thirty was far too late to be wasting time. He glanced out the window again, and then was suddenly hit with an idea…

"You're right, Hermione, it's nearly eight thirty and I've hardly gotten anything done," he said, standing up and walking over to the staircase.

"See, I knew you'd see it my way," she answered, smiling up at him. He smiled back, said he'd return shortly, and headed up the stairs. He pushed open the door and went to open his backpack, locating the wrapped parcel and removing it from its hiding spot. He let himself feel the full weight of it in his hand before standing up again, slipping it into his pocket, and heading back down the stairs. As he walked back over and sat down in his chair, Hermione looked up, but the smile was quickly replaced by a look of puzzlement.

"Ron, where are your books?"

"Oh, um…" he said, looking around absentmindedly, "about that. Can I ask you a favor?"

"No, Ron, I will not do your homework for you, we've been through this already! You've got to do it on your own, or else you'll never learn—"

"Will you go for a walk with me?"

Hermione looked at him as though she thought she'd heard him incorrectly. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, and for a second, Ron was reminded of a fish he'd seen one time in the lake, coming up for air. She looked down at her paper, then back at Ron, and then at the quill in her hand, and she seemed to be making a decision.

"Do you promise to take me somewhere other than where you took Padma?"

Ron smiled, then took her quill and books and set them on the chair next to him. Standing up, he held his hand out for hers and raised her gently from her chair.

"But of course, Miss Granger, it's your birthday, and being so, it is my obligation to give you whatever it is you ask for."

Haha, I know, this birthday thing is taking up too many chapters, but I didn't want to get into something this chapter that I couldn't finish, so…the next chapter will be the last birthday chapter, all right? I hope this isn't too much of a cliffie for you guys! I'm sorry if it is. But review! I'll update as soon as I can!