Author's Notes: I'll try to crank out another chapter before tomorrow, but I'm going on vacation for a week, so I don't know if I'll manage it. But I've got a whole month before school begins again. My summer job just ended and I think I only have maybe 2 chapters and an epilogue remaining. So, I'll definitely get this done before September. The end is not too far off!
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The Secret Affair +
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The morning was as dreary as the sodden toast that landed on Ron's plate during breakfast. A light drizzle spattered the outsides of the windows in the Great Hall, falling from the ashen gray clouds that had strangled all traces of blue from the expansive sky.
The gloom of the day was, however, in direct contract to Ron's mood. He wouldn't have cared a whit for the sky or the formation of the clouds even if he had noticed them. He was too busy staring at his new girlfriend, sitting kitty corner from him beside Harry. He and Hermione had taken their usual spots at the table without thinking about how difficult it would be to play footsie with Harry's legs between them. Ron had accidentally kicked Harry while trying. So all Ron could do for the moment was look...and flirt like mad, of course.
"Ron, could you pass the pumpkin juice?" Hermione asked, pretending not to have noticed his staring.
"Sure," he said, handing her the pitcher. Their hands brushed secretively over the table as she took it from him. Both of them grinned before glancing at Harry to see whether he had noticed their exchange.
He had not. As he had been out late the previous night, obtaining memories and whatnot, Harry was currently busy doing what he ought to have done then, which was their Charms assignment, due within the next twenty minutes.
"Could you pass the butter, Hermione?" Ron whispered to her like it was some secret.
Hermione giggled. "You've already buttered your toast four times," she said, but handed him the butter anyway so their hands could touch once more across the table.
"Pass me the pepper," she said, a little breathless.
And so it went on and on, until Harry finally sat up stretching and announced that he was done. "Could you hand me the salt?" he said, causing Ron to jump. "These eggs are a bit bland."
Ron set the salt down in front of him, but did not try to hold his friend's hand. He looked to Hermione, and they both knew that their morning flirtation had come to an end now that Harry was alert. She seemed disappointed.
"Ow!" exclaimed Harry, looking at Hermione. "Why do you two keep kicking me?"
"Sorry," she said, glancing up at Ron.
Neither one of them had bothered to tell Harry what had happened the previous night. Ron knew eventually Harry would figure it out, but up until then it seemed a bit silly to take him aside and say, "Look, mate, Hermione and I have decided to go out." That would be kind of like saying, "Could you stay away from us once in a while so we can snog?" No, Harry should figure it out for himself, and when he did (months and months later from the looks of it) he would recognize that it didn't mean anything had changed in their friendship. Ron and Hermione were still his best mates, and they would always be at his side. Except, of course, when they were snogging behind closed doors.
In the meantime, Ron and Hermione neither publicized their relationship nor hid it from Harry. They left it completely obvious so that anyone would have recognized it, although they did try to tone it down in front of Lavender. Harry, however, was so engrossed in the latest events surrounding Dumbledore and his search for You-Know-Who's Horcruxes that he probably wouldn't have noticed if Ron proposed marriage to Hermione right in front of him.
During Charms, Harry cast the Muffliato spell and began to explain what Horcruxes were. Ron was barely listening because he was too busy watching Hermione absently pack together a snowball from the fake snow she'd created on her desk during the previous exercise. She did this while reading the instructions on how to turn vinegar into wine.
"Dumbledore said I could come with him to destroy the third one," Harry was saying. He had a zealous sparkle in his eyes, a sort of dangerous glow that Ron noticed more and more frequently these days. It made him nervous, truth be told. He much preferred to look at Hermione, who currently had a little strand of hair sticking in the corner of her mouth that Ron really wanted to reach for and tuck behind her ear.
"Wow," he managed now trying to pay attention to Harry, complete his Charms exercise and watch Hermione at the same time. "Wow. You're actually going to go with Dumbledore...and try to destroy..."
Hermione tucked the loose strand behind her ear on her own. She peered up at him, innocently. He didn't know how it had gotten there, but shimmering flakes of snow glistened like crystal beads all over her hair.
"...wow," Ron finished, waving his wand around.
"Ron, you're making it snow," Hermione said, gently taking him by the wrist and lowering it away from the ceiling. She let go after noticing something behind him. Ron guessed the 'something' was probably Lavender. She'd been glaring at them all class.
"Oh yeah," he said, realizing where the snow had come from. "Sorry...looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now..."
He brushed the snow from Hermione's shoulder, stopping when he heard Lavender sobbing nearby. Harry, for all his obliviousness, did notice this. He looked hopeful when he turned back to Ron.
With a grin, Ron explained. "We split up lat night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, so she thought it had just been the two of us."
"Ah," said Harry, who didn't see the way Hermione was beaming as Ron retold the story, "Well — you don't mind it's over, do you?"
"No. It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it."
"Coward," teased Hermione. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too, Harry."
Ron, who was now attempting to charm his vinegar into wine, heard the news with some satisfaction. He hadn't ever liked the idea of Dean and Ginny, although come to think of it he never had liked the idea of Ginny and anybody, except for maybe Harry.
Harry might be good enough, although his temper was almost as bad as Ginny's...but then again, maybe that would be a good thing. They could keep each other busy...by fighting, of course. Ron wasn't eager to think of them keeping busy any other way. Then he thought about how he wouldn't appreciate Ginny telling Harry all his secrets, like how he'd kept a blankie until he was eleven or how he used to like to eat Flobberworms when he was four because he wanted to be a fish. But maybe Harry would tell her to stuff it, because Harry was his best mate, after all.
Ron ruminated on the possibility of Harry and Ginny until he noticed Flitwick walking directly toward their desk. He hissed an alert to Harry and Hermione before returning to his vinegar.
Hermione had no need of worrying. Her vinegar already resembled a good vintage merlot, whereas Ron's looked more like Sauerbraten sauce. Professor Flitwick coughed when he sniffed it, wheezing and hacking like he'd been gassed.
"Now, now boys," he addressed both Ron and Harry, "A little less talk, a little more action...Let me see you try..."
Ron tried.
Ron failed. When he flicked his wand his flask exploded, sending shards of glass scattering everywhere. One caught Hermione on the hand and she let out a little gasp.
Flitwick didn't notice. "Yes...for homework, practice," he said.
Ron took Hermione's hand under the desk and pressed his thumb against the little cut to staunch the bleeding.
"I'll help you later, if you want," she whispered.
"Okay," said Ron.
Harry was busy cleaning up the remnants of his flask and didn't notice. However, on their way back to the common room, he almost caught them holding hands in the hallway.
Even though, Ron hadn't meant to hide their relationship at first, sometime between breakfast and Charms class, it had become something of a game to see how long they could sustain the secret. He pulled Hermione's hand behind his back and stepped in front of her so Harry couldn't see. Hermione peeked around from behind his back, ostensibly grinning.
Harry eyed them suspiciously. "What's got you so cheery?" Harry inquired.
"It's a nice day," she said. Harry stared at them for a little longer, and Ron knew what he was thinking. Nice day? There are clouds covering every piece of sky! But he appeared to be deep in thought about something else, probably Dumbledore or Malfoy, and he didn't press for a better explanation.
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"How did you know that Dean and Ginny split up last night? As I recall, you were quite busy last night," Ron asked later that evening after putting away his Charms equipment. Harry had gone upstairs to take a nap, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in a secluded corner of the common room.
Hermione peered up at him from her Transfiguration textbook with an expression on her face that indicated the answer to his question should have been obvious. "I sleep in the girls' dormitory," she explained. "Gossip travels faster than a wildfire."
"Oh," said Ron, accepting this. He wondered what other gossip was being spread around the girls' dormitory, but decided it would be best not to know. He wondered if the other girls knew that Lavender had forced him to wear that "My Sweetheart" necklace.
"Also, Ginny told me in the lavatory this morning," Hermione added, returning to her work.
"Well, that's good," said Ron, trying not to think of how strange it was that girls could talk about so much while on the loo. "Now maybe she'll find someone better."
"Like Harry, you mean?" asked Hermione, to the point.
Ron considered this. "I don't think he's interested."
"Oh don't you? Haven't you seen the way he looks at her?"
No. Ron had not noticed any such thing. His eyes narrowed as he pictured Harry eyeing his sister when he thought Ron wasn't looking. Surely, Harry wouldn't do something so secretive. "Well, don't you think he would have said something to me?" asked Ron.
Hermione snorted with disbelief and set her book aside, gazing up at Ron with confidence of her superior knowledge. "Honestly Ron, none of us confide in each other about whom we're dating. Also, he's probably scared that you'd beat him up."
"I wouldn't beat up Harry because of Ginny!" he exclaimed.
"You punched him over Romilda Vane," she said, casually turning a page.
Ron did not think it was fair to mention that, since he had been under a love potion. Also, he had apologized to Harry while they were in the infirmary. "I said I was sorry about that."
Hermione ignored this comment. "At any rate," she went on. "I hope it works out. Harry could use someone to ground him in reality."
Harry and reality? Ron flashbacked to his conversation in the infirmary with Harry, when he'd basically admitted to wanting to chase Draco Malfoy over playing Quidditch. Ginny loved Quidditch. He could see her standing in front of Harry with her hands on her hips saying, Harry Potter, so help me if you ever think of missing a match on account of Draco Malfoy, I'll hex your ears off!
Feeling that it would be disloyal to laugh at his friend, Ron stifled a chuckle at the thought of seeing Harry without ears. In response to Hermione, he only offered a supportive, "Yeah, I can see that."
Hermione began to twist her quill in her fingers, no longer able to maintain her pretence of study. "I worry that he fixates too much on other things when he's alone," she said. "And I just know that Potions book of his will end badly."
Ron sighed, having been through this a million times already. The thing about Hermione was that she never knew when to drop an argument. "It's just a book, Hermione."
"It's not just a book!" she exclaimed. "It's a cheat! It's the crib sheet to end all crib sheets!"
"So?" Ron shot back.
"So?" she cried, absolutely furious. "I work hard to earn my marks. It's grueling, tiresome work. I'm up half the night sometimes squinting into my books just so I can come to class in the morning and not have people like Draco Malfoy sniggering at me in class. But Harry never takes his classes seriously. He doesn't understand that the things we learn in class might one day be useful —"
"That Potions book was useful," Ron cut her off. "I wouldn't be here without the Half-Blood Prince."
Hermione vehemently shook her head. "Ron, think! What if there had been no Prince? What if Harry had never gotten that book? He wouldn't have been able to help you because he hadn't paid attention in Potions class!"
"But he did have the book. And Harry listens to everything that's important. I mean when is he ever going to need to know how to turn vinegar into wine!"
"Well, I don't know," spat Hermione, slamming her book shut. "Maybe some day when he's thirsty."
"He's resourceful," argued Ron. "He saved my life."
"He's cheating, Ronald Weasley!" she shouted, standing up and picking up her books. "He'll pay for it someday, mark my words."
It sounded like a curse or a threat, and was still thundering in Ron's ears when he realized that Hermione had began to walk away.
"Wait!" he cried, jumping up from his seat and chasing after her. "I'm sorry, okay? Don't leave."
"Let go of me, Ron," she said. Ron hadn't even realized that he'd grabbed her arm. He released her instantly like he'd been stung.
"Well, don't go away mad." Ron knew he couldn't let Hermione go away angry. He couldn't bear another frosty silence between them, not after everything that had happened. "I understand that you work really hard for your marks, and I'm sorry about Harry's book, but I can't do anything about it."
Hermione sighed and lowered her arms so that she was holding her books tucked under her arm rather than hoisted over her hip. Her anger seemed to have deflated for the moment, and Ron knew he had her.
"Don't go, please?" he pouted, knowing she'd fall for it.
"I let you get away with too much," she said, simply.
"Does that mean I get away with this?" asked Ron, although he was not exactly sure how Harry's use of the Prince's book had become something Ron had to 'get away with.'
Oops. Suddenly, Hermione's temper flared once more. She rolled her eyes, and hoisted her books back onto her hip in a huff. "You're still not understanding me, Ronald!"
"What did I do? Just because Harry is better at Potions than you..." Ron realized too late that this was the wrong thing to say to Hermione.
"That's not the point!" she shouted. "And Harry is not better at Potions. The Half-Blood Prince is better at Potions than I am."
"Well, what's the point?" said Ron, following her to the stairs as she stalked off again towards the dormitories.
"Forget it," she muttered under her breath.
"No no, I want to hear the point. What's the point?"
But Hermione was already to the steps leading to the girls' dormitories, where Ron could not follow. "I said, forget it. I'll see you in the morning."
"No, don't go away angry!" he called after her, as she climbed the steps.
"I'm not angry!" she exclaimed without looking back. "I just don't want discuss this anymore." Then she slammed the door behind her.
"You brought it up," Ron mumbled under his breath. But even as he said it, he was mulling over what Hermione's point could possibly be. No matter what she said, she was jealous of Harry's potions grade. Surely her point wasn't that they should pay attention in class. It was one thing to say it, but it was another thing entirely to get angry about it. Hermione had been friends with Ron and Harry for six years, and he thought she'd accepted their less than stellar scholastic aptitudes by now.
Anyway, how could he pay attention when class was so dull?
Ron slunk back to their table in order to collect his things. He began the long climb up to the dormitories, trying to think of a way to make it up to Hermione without letting on that he had no idea what she wanted him to understand. He was sure that if he didn't apologize in the morning, she would refuse to speak to him. But a simple, "I'm sorry," wouldn't do. She'd want to hear an entire explanation of just why he was sorry, but Ron didn't know precisely why he was sorry. All he wanted was for Hermione to talk to him in the morning.
After arriving at his bed, he found Harry still napping. At this hour it was unlikely that Harry would wake up before morning, but Ron didn't feel like waking him up, not even to enlist his aid in wooing Hermione back.
Instead, Ron put on his pajamas and climbed under his sheets, rolling immediately onto his side. As he did, he caused a book that had been lying on his bed to crash to the floor. It landed with a thud, wresting Harry from his deep slumber.
"Jiiin...eee," he mumbled in his sleep before going back to sleep. Ron froze, as he realized that Harry was possibly calling for Ginny in his sleep, meaning that Hermione had been right all along.
Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers, contemplating the unfairness of Hermione being right all the time. Then he shrugged off his resentment, deciding that Hermione was most certainly not right about Harry's potions book and that furthermore she was wrong about Harry and Ginny. He just couldn't let her know that he thought she was wrong because then she would never speak to him again. Unless, of course, he poisoned himself and almost died, but that seemed like too much effort.
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That night his dreams were full of spiders chasing him, taunting him. Ron tried to transfigure them into bunnies, but he couldn't remember the enchantment. He ran to Hermione on the way to the castle and begged her to help him.
"Ha!" she laughed, "Bet you wish you'd paid attention in class!"
Ron awoke just as the largest spider swooped down to bite his legs off. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, still gasping. Bugger that, he thought.
Harry came back from the lavatory to collect him for breakfast, but Ron found that he was in ill-spirits. His dream had made him think of a Transfiguration spell to turn objects into roses, which he had learned in second year and no longer remembered. It would have been a perfect make-up present for Hermione, and it frustrated Ron that he couldn't remember how to do it. If he had his second year textbook, he would have been able to do it, but his textbook was at the Burrow.
He considered asking Harry, whom Ron couldn't help but notice was strangely cheerful this morning, but Ron didn't want Harry to ask him why he needed to transfigure something into a flower. He couldn't find the strength to tell him that he'd managed to botch things with Hermione in only one day. Although, really he couldn't see how it was his fault. After all, she'd gotten mad first, and all he had done was defend Harry. So, really this was all Harry's fault for needing to be defended. If only Harry paid attention in Potions more often, he wouldn't have needed that book and then Ron wouldn't be in this mess! He found himself glaring quickly at Harry, who was too busy grinning to notice.
On their way into the Great Hall, Ron spied Hermione in the distance, already eating her toast. He felt a lump catch in his throat when he remembered their breakfast yesterday and compared it to the cold welcome he was sure that he was about to receive.
"Er...I'm not feeling hungry, mate," said Ron, stopping just as they had reached the doors.
Harry regarded him with narrow eyes. "You didn't eat any dicey Chocolate Cauldrons, did you?"
Of course, he would bring that up, thought Ron. "No, I'm just worried about the match against Ravenclaw. I think I'll go to the Prefect's bathroom now before I heave —"
Harry looked disgusted. "But the match isn't for a month..."
"Right, well, best get ready as early as possible, then," said Ron, running away before Hermione could look up and see them. He hoped Harry would tell her where he was. Maybe then she would come after him. In the meantime, Ron had every intention of trying to remember that spell...
He went straight for the bathroom, and once he entered he remained in the lounge where there were couches for him to sit on. Pulling out his wand, he mustered all the powers of concentration he could manage and said, "Volo desboutons!"
Nothing happened.
"Volo rosa!" Again, nothing.
"Volo rosae! Volo rosarum... Voudrais herbas!" The last incantation produced a handful of nasty snapping weeds, which Ron instantly dropped on the ground before they had the chance to bite him. They continued to snap at his toes, but Ron stomped on them, crushing them underfoot. Just then his stomach grumbled, reminding Ron that he was, in fact, starving. Whether Hermione would talk to him or not, he would have to get something to eat.
But before he could stand up to go, he heard a voice calling to him. "Ron?"
It was Hermione, slipping in through the entrance to the bathroom. She saw him and came over directly. "Ron, are you all right? Harry said you were feeling ill."
She stopped when she noticed the weeds snapping by Ron's feet. "What are you doing in here?"
"I was trying to transfigure a rose for you," said Ron, miserably. "But I couldn't remember the enchantment."
She surprised him with a laugh. "So do you admit now that I was right?"
Say yes, Ron. Don't say, 'Right about what?' Say yes. He smiled widely. "Yes," he said, a little too brightly to be convincing.
Luckily Hermione didn't notice, and they went together, hand in hand, to the Great Hall.
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The next few weeks passed quickly, and with the Ravenclaw match on the horizon, there was never a shortage of things to do. Quidditch practices were doubled and Ron's time with Hermione was halved. However, the high tension gave him the perfect excuse to run off and snog her whenever he wished. All he had to do was feign nervousness and rush off to the "bathroom" to "throw-up." Harry never questioned it.
Furthermore, Ron was beginning to suspect that Hermione might be right about Harry fancying Ginny. He followed them around whenever he could, just to see if he noticed any meaningful, shared looks or agonized, sideways glances. Maybe once or twice he thought he saw something in the way Harry spoke to Ginny, but he couldn't be sure. Plus, Harry never mentioned Ginny unless someone else brought her up, so it was difficult to remain suspicious.
Ron rather pointedly changed the Gryffindor Tower password to, Quid agis, which was the Latin for, "What are you doing?" but Harry didn't seem to catch on, or if he did, he wasn't persuaded to be forthcoming about his intentions toward Ginny.
Therefore, Ron remained in the dark as to whether or not Harry and his sister were having a secret affair (even though Harry was supposed to be his best mate, meaning he was supposed to tell him everything). In retribution, Ron decided he wouldn't mention Hermione until Harry said something about Ginny. Until Harry stopped behaving so suspiciously, Ron would keep him on a strictly need-to-know basis.
And so, when a few days before the Quidditch match, he and Harry and Hermione were walking to dinner and Hermione was doing that irresistable thing with her fingers in her hair, Ron didn't say, "Well, Hermione and I are going to go this way." Instead, Ron exclaimed, "Blimey, I've got to throw up again."
Hermione grinned at him. "Really?"
"Oh yeah. I'm feeling so nervous. I'll just be in the boy's bathroom! The one on the second floor dormitories!"
At first Hermione seemed reluctant to take Ron's hint that he wanted to go snog in the boys' dormitories. He started thinking that maybe he had overstepped the bounds of decency. Hermione was staring at Harry's essay, the one she had been proofreading in the common room, but her eyes were not focused on it. Her cheeks were flushed. Ron began to inch back toward Gryffindor Tower, hoping she would follow. He nearly cheered in triumph when he saw Hermione hand Harry's essay back to him.
"Oh," he heard her say, "I just remembered that I have to er…see Professor Vector."
"Right now?" asked Harry. "What about dinner?"
"Well, I think I made a mistake in my last Arithmancy essay, and I have to correct it. Now."
Ron scurried up the stairs and hid behind a doorway until Hermione found him.
She kissed him lightly on the mouth before drawing back. "Honestly Ron, you can't keep using the same excuse all the time."
"It was better than yours," he said. "I have to fix my essay. Right now. I can't wait!" he mimicked her voice.
"Oh clam up. I do have to fix it, you know," she said and leaned in for another kiss.
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Twenty or thirty minutes later, when they were both too hungry to snog anymore, Ron and Hermione decided to make their way to the Great Hall. The plan was to join Harry, eat a quick meal and then head to the library where they could study without being tempted to fall all over each other. Hermione had complained that their snog sessions were causing her studies to slip, although Ron could see no evidence of it.
They were rounding the corner to go down the flight of steps leading to the common room when Hermione gasped. "I forgot my essay," she said. "Wait here, I'll go get it."
Ron stood at the top of the steps, dutifully waiting for Hermione's return when he heard the portrait swing open and a monster stepped through. He was so covered in filth that for a moment he looked inhuman. It took a few seconds before Ron realized that he was facing Harry.
"Where've you — ? Why are you soaking — ? Is that blood?"
"I need your book," Harry cried. He was panting and urgent, and he was half way up the stairs, with his hand outstretched. "Your Potions book. Quick...give it to me..."
"But what about the Half-Blood —"
Harry outstretched his arm again, practically shaking it in Ron's face. He was half-crazed. "I'll explain later!" he said.
Without question, Ron lowered his schoolbag from his shoulder and pulled out the book in question. He gave it to Harry, who seized it and ran before Ron had the chance to say, "When will I get it back?" He gaped at the portrait as it swung shut.
Just then Hermione came down. "What happened?" she asked. "Was that Harry?"
"I think so," replied Ron, numbly.
They left the common room together, while Ron explained to Hermione what had just happened. When the reached the Great Hall, they found Millicent Bulstrode tugging a frantic Pansy Parkinson past them and up the stairs. "Is he all right?" Pansy was screaming. "Is he ok?"
A small congregation of students from all four houses were clustered at the foot of the steps. Among them was Ernie Macmillan. Hermione grabbed him by the arm as they came down the steps. "Ernie, what happened?" she asked.
Ernie stared at her. "Harry Potter tried to murder Malfoy in the bathroom!"
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To a few of my readers:
Love That Elf: Good point about Lavender! I considered what you said. I may make some changes later, but in the meantime you inspired parts of this chapter.
NormalGirl: Ha! How very flattering, but I doubt that you would want my life. Not that my life is bad. I think my life is pretty good, but it's not good enough for anyone to want it. Also, I don't mind it if people point out typos. They completely disrupt the flow of action. Sometimes a single punctuation error can destroy the power of an entire sentence. I believe that it's good to edit one's work.
SaSuch33: Yeah, you're right! Harry didn't even notice that Hermione had that thing going on with Krum in Book 4. And Ron never noticed that Ginny was going out with Michael Corner or Dean until other people told him. I think the characters really just don't talk to each other about their love lives. I don't know if that's a British thing or a writer's device or human nature or what.
LimeJuiceTub: Well, people use 'unibrow' too, but if they only use 'unibrow' in America, I will gladly change it to 'monobrow.'
WeasleyGirl-ca: Fiction Alley, eh? I've always admired those people. It seemed like that was the place to find the best fics, only I haven't visited the site in a long while.
Mia: Yeah...I don't really know if they got together either. There seem to be all these hints, and yet they never tell Harry or Ginny. Even so, after Book 6 I started thinking, "Well, maybe this is all we're going to get." My reasoning is that I can't ever really see J.K. Rowling making a big production of R/Hr's first kiss because the book is all from Harry's point of view and I'm not sure Ron and Hermione would kiss in front of Harry. Maybe all we'll ever get is Ron saying to Harry, "Oh yeah. It happened a couple months ago."
SatuSimpson: Who are the Teen Titans?
Meghan: You spelled it correctly. Unless you're British, in which case I believe it is spelled with an 's' instead of a 'z.'
Dance to RANDOMNESS: Damn it! You caught on to my master plan of melodrama and extreme mushiness. I was going to have Hermione get pregnant and die in childbirth, after which point Ron would drink himself into a stupor until he uncovered a prophecy that said Hermione was going to return from the dead in order to kill Voldemort with her magic powers that she can wield without a wand. Then they were going to kiss and kiss and kiss and make the beast with two backs and have two more children who would grow into the saviors of the wizarding world in the 400,000 word sequel where Harry and Ginny would finally get married after professing their undying devotion on a ship bound for a dangerous mission in the North Pole, where it was so cold that they had no choice but to huddle together naked under the blankets for warmth...and I think this response is actually becoming Rated R.
