A/N: Weeeeee! An update a few days early! Question to all my wonderful readers and reviewers: How much longer should I continue this fiction? I'm having a blast writing it and don't plan on ending it anytime soon, I just need feedback of where I should take this story. I mean, after Ron and Hermione kiss –er- if they ever kiss (oops, just gave away plotline) should I still continue the story? Criticism and suggestions appreciated! To all my lovely reviewers...THANK YOU! A marshmallow peep to each of you! And a huge chocolate bunny! Luv ya guys!

LadySimone123- Yes, I created the cliffhanger for the sole purpose of annoying you, Miss S! I can't believe some of the things I come up with (then again, remember what we discuss in our notes?), but perhaps, like Hermione, I'm letting my more "wild" (as if I can even be wild!) side shine. Hmm...good point- is that why Colin always denies liking me when its so obvious there's chemistry between the great trumpet player and I?

Lara Potter- Amen, sister! Harry is very SEXY- and he's all mine (oh, sorry Ron!). Just joshing. Anyways, I'm glad you enjoyed Ron's antics- I love portraying him as the daft, dramatic bloke, and yes, one who is also a bit on the clueless, sometimes a bit slow side. However, somewhere beneath that vivid red hair Ron most definitely possess great intelligence- I can't wait until JK Rowling reveals it!

jenn- Thanks for the endearing compliment! You will just have to wait and read what happens next!

Mental357- I know, that's a terrible place to leave a chapter hanging- thank you very much for your great compliment- encouraging, wonderful reviews like yours make me ecstatic! Yes, I'll remember your warning- I'm posting the new chapter a day after you reviewed! Hope you enjoy chapter six!

Lipgloss- Thank you very much- do you really think someone will interrupt? Hmmm...remember the rule of the Weasley house- there can never be a dull moment...

scubagurl- Sorry, I know that cliffhanger was mean- oh, he believes her all right, it's just a matter of "does the snog ever happen?"

goblin monkey- I'm happy you're enjoying this story thus far- thank you SO much for your wonderful compliments! Don't worry, I'll try not to leave you hanging- I update it about once a week, so...

TheDaugherOfKings- Tell me about it- I got shivers of disgust just reading what I wrote about Harry/Hermione- is it a kissy cliff? I wouldn't be too sure about that...Glad you loved the chapter- it's really fun making the older witches, in your words, act "delightfully evil" –(ooh, I love that phrase- is it okay if I use it in my story?)

zmanjz- Thanks for pointing that out- that was something I debated long and hard over

DaggerQuill- ...Well?

Emma-Lynn- Did she kiss Ron? You'll have to read this chapter to find out! I enjoy portraying McGonagall as not just a stuffy, intelligent old witch like she is in the book- I think beneath the tight-lipped smile and neat bun there is a person who likes to have some fun- especially by teasing younger witches such as her favorite student, Hermione. Cliffhangers are fun! You rock, sista!

suckr4romance81789- THANK YOU! Yes, I'm a terribly cruel person to leave everyone hanging, I'll admit that. H/Hr grosses me out too- I refuse to read any romances between those two! I'm glad you love my story- please, enjoy chapter six!

aishteru- All right, I'm updating now because you –er- everyone is anxious for chapter six! Thank you very much to a loyal reviewer!

"Mum says you're to come down for treacle tarts," Fred trailed, as he barged into the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Bloody," he gasped, eyes widening. "Ickle Ronniekins in an intimate position with Hermione!" I have to admit, the scene set before his eyes appeared to be anything but innocent. But, alas, it was. The presence (more accurately described as a rude butt-in) of a Weasley brother had once again interrupted what would've been an excellent snog- that is, if our lips had ever met. Then again, Ron's body was practically pressed up against mine, so it was logical to assume that something of a PG-13 nature was unfolding.

"Fred, would you mind terribly," I snapped with exaggerated anger, gesturing frantically towards the door. "Young lovers deserve privacy!" I pulled Ron even closer to me, if that was even possible. I could feel his every ragged breath and the furious pounding of his heart- but he had nothing on my reaction to this rather enjoyable situation.

"Sure," Fred stuttered, backing out of the door in a daze and blushing for the first time in the long five years I'd been acquainted with him.

"Well, where were we?" I teased the object of my affections sweetly, linking my arms around his neck.

"You don't have to do this, just to prove that you don't fancy Harry," Ron said weakly, as I played with the hair at nape of his neck. His cobalt blue eyes were looking anywhere but at me as his ears turned an even darker shade of red.

Heart beating a mile a minute, a wave of dizziness washing over me, and this wonderful, indescribable feeling in my stomach (A/N: Seeing as I am part of my school's chapter of the NBKC (never been kissed club) the romantic moments in my story may be lacking a bit, for I've never experienced it-yet!), I began, "What if..."

Unbeknownst to us, however, for the second time that day, fate was going to hold true...

"Bloody wall," the familiar voice of a very clumsy Auror swore as, by the sounds I was hearing, she ran head-on into the wall outside of the bedroom in which I was standing in, in very close proximity to the object of my affections. Ron jumped a bit overdramatically away from me as the door swung open. I checked my wristwatch. Yep, over two minutes had passed since Ron and I had entered our intimate position, which would qualify as a moment. And, in the Weasley house (okay, this is-was- Sirius's house, but seeing as the majority of the inhabitants of it are Weasleys...) there can never be a dull moment- something, or someone, simply always has to break the mood.

Unfazed by our flushed faces, guilty expressions, and bright red ears (well Ron's at least- mine are hidden behind a mass of scheming little buggers-my curls)-after all, she is an Auror- Tonks said casually, "Molly wanted me to see what was going on." A twinkle in her violet eyes, (which clashed horribly with her hair, which was currently a vivid orange) that conniving witch continued to lie through her teeth. "It's also time for dessert- your Mum says you fancy treacle tarts, Ron."

Pfht. I'll bet you a million galleons that this was not a task Mrs. Weasley had assigned. Nymphadora Tonks was, without a doubt, the most inquisitive, nosy, curious witch I'd ever had the pleasure meeting- but I still loved her to pieces. Since there were so few of us, the women at 12 Grimmauld Place had to stick together; thus, Ginny and I instantly bonded with her last summer during those memorable dinners.

"We'll go rescue Ginny," I sighed, extremely disappointed that the snog had never panned out. "From extreme mortification,' I added silently, knowing how Ginny would react to the love of her life coming to "comfort" her.

"Gin!" I knocked lightly on the partially closed door. The scene that met my eyes was most satisfying. The Boy-Who-Lived and Ginny Weasley were sitting serenely on her bed, holding hands and brightly chatting.

"Get your bloody hands off my sister," Ron growled, advancing towards the couple.

"Ronald!" I tried to restrain him. "Holding hands is not immoral or suggestive in any way- I mean, honestly, we held hands at breakfast today and no one thought anything of it. Harry and your sister are old enough to make their own decisions. Besides, they may be holding hands in a platonic way- you know, just as friends. Just like-"

Ginny cut off my incessant babbling with a squeak of humiliation.

"Harry just asked me to feel his Quidditch calluses," she stuttered (a bit lamely, if you want my personal opinion), her face flaming.

"A likely story," her older brother snapped.

It was major payback time. "Well, how do they feel?" I probed slyly, smirking.

"Very good," Ginny stammered, her face blending in with her hair.

It was rather cute, really, how over-protective Ron was of his younger sister- in fact, it only made me fall in love with the bloke even more.

"Get your bloody hands off my sister, Potter," Ron said through clenched teeth, pulling out his wand. This situation was getting a bit out-of-control as he pointed it directly at the head of his best mate in the world.

"Ron," Ginny said soothingly, finally dropping Harry's hand (the latter who I noticed watched her action with obvious disappointment). "Harry and I are just friends! As Hermione said, friends can hold hands. (Random A/N: As quoted by my band director, "Friends can listen to "Endless Love" together in the dark!") Like you and her at breakfast!"

"Breakfast?" Harry asked quizzically. Luckily, Ginny's statement seemed to have thrown Ron off as he re-pocketed his wand and echoed, "Breakfast." Then, he awkwardly clasped Harry on the shoulder.

"I give you two my blessing," he said grudgingly as he sank onto the floor. "Just- whatever you do, Harry- please don't hurt her. Or else you'll have me to answer to." Looking at the lone figure on the grey carpet, looking more like a little boy with his big, wide, baby blue eyes and tousled hair, Ron did not look like much of a threat- then again, Harry knew all-to-well how the towering inferno of Ronald Weasley could be- that in addition to how loyal the Weasley brothers were to each other- and about their precious little sister- he'd have six full-grown men (all right, Fred, George and Ron may have the bodies of men, but definitely not the maturity) with their wands up his buttocks in a split-second.

"Honestly, Ron, it's not as though Harry's gotten me pregnant," Ginny snorted. "I don't know him terribly well- and, for the thousandth time, we're just friends! Nothing romantic!" Ginevra Weasley, of course, was conveniently failing to remember that only earlier that day she had admitted her undying, passionate love for the person in question- and that she had known him since that fateful day in the Weasley house when he had first laid eyes on her, clad in a nightgown.

"Pregnant?" Ron roared, obviously only hearing the keywords in each sentence. "Why, you bloody little b-"

Batting her eyelashes seductively, Ginny leapt into Harry's arms. "It's a boy," she announced dramatically. "You're going to be an uncle, Ron!"

"When did this all occur?" Ron spouted furiously, -er- playing along? You can never be sure with Ron- blimey, that bloke is DAFT!

"Last year, in the broom closet," Ginny sighed dreamily, gazing into Harry's piercing emerald eyes.

"I've had quite enough of this," Ron snapped, now looking a sickly green color.

"Gullible," Ginny sang loudly and off-key as he made moves to eloquently exit the room. I honestly couldn't hold it in any longer. A loud burst of laughter suddenly exploded from my mouth as I hastily tried to stuff my fist to soften the sound, but, of course, with no avail.

"You find this situation humorous?" Ron stuck out his tongue ever so maturely.

"Actually, I rather do. This is more interesting than...( I wracked my mind, desperately searching for something at Hogwarts I actually found slightly boring. Quidditch? Nah- the scenery was excellent-Ron in his Quidditch uniform-) - than History of Magic!" I chirped. "In fact, I would appreciate if you all would please continue- it's a quite pleasant form of evening entertainment!"

"Frankly, you bloody scare me sometimes, Hermione," Ron shook his head incredulously. "You're just so sassy and-"

"Normal." I finished quietly. "Like every other teenage witch. Which would you prefer, Ron- a stuffy, bookish Hermione or one who likes to let loose once in a while?"

His answer surprised me.

"How about a little of both?" He suggested gently, taking my hand into his. "You, of all people, Hermione, can handle juggling two personalities."

Hmmph. The object of my affections wishes for me to have a multiple-personality disorder. I am seriously unloved and underappreciated by the world.

"I've got an even better idea," Ginny smiled and slung an arm around Harry and my shoulders. "Why don't we meander downstairs and inhale some of those bloody treacle tarts?"

"And I thought I was the one who always came up with the good ideas," I whined, shooting Ginny a mock glare.