Chapter 57

"I don't think you should get your hopes up Lav," Parvati said in a hushed whisper, leaning into her best friend and taking no notice of Harry who had entered the Great Hall and happened to be passing right behind them to get to the empty seat next to Neville. "I asked Padma about it and she said they were just working on a project together."

"But Amanda Donovan said that she heard-"

"Amanda is only a 5th year," Parvati interrupted. "She isn't in their Arithmancy class. Padma is," she added, "and she didn't seem to be very surprised when I mentioned they'd been spotted in the library together."

"But Amanda is on the Quidditch team," Lavender argued softly, "and according to her, Ron..."

Isn't interested in you, Harry thought, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as he tuned out the rest of the girls' conversation and settled down at the Gryffindor table.

"Ron upstairs brooding?" Ginny asked, glancing at her brother's best friend as he sat down beside Neville.

"Yup," he replied, grabbing for a bowl of roasted potatoes and dumping a generous quantity onto his plate before reaching for a platter of pork chops.

"Did Hermione ever turn up?"

"Still in the Library with Boot, I suppose," Harry said, ready to tuck into his meal when he noticed Ginny was shaking her head and pointing towards the Ravenclaw table. Following her finger, Harry glanced over his shoulder and noted that Terry Boot was in fact seated at the table next to Anthony Goldstein. "Oh," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe she's just avoiding him then."

"So why didn't she come down to dinner when Terry did?" Ginny asked.

"How am I supposed to know?" Harry snapped and then caught himself. "Sorry," he muttered, slightly ashamed that Ron's bad mood had rubbed off on him and he was now taking it out on an innocent party.

"It's still hard for you isn't it?" Ginny asked, studying him intently. "The two of them being together all the time?"

"It's not that," he replied, trying to put his finger on what exactly it was that was bothering him.

It wasn't that they were together to the extent that he felt excluded. He'd seen more of Ron this weekend than Hermione had, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. In fact, now that he really thought about it, Harry realized that he probably spent more time with Ron than Hermione did on average, given that they had all the same classes and therefore the same breaks, not to mention they had Quidditch practices together and shared a dorm room.

It wasn't the quantity of time; it was the quality of the time that was the issue. The dynamic between Ron and Hermione had changed. They were basically married to one another now and while his relationship with them hadn't really be altered all that much, their relationship with one another had taken on a whole new level. The two of them were closer to each other now than they were to him in certain respects. Not that he wanted to snog Hermione, or watch Ron do it either for that matter. But they shared things with each other that they didn't or couldn't share with him.

The fact was they depended on one another more than they depended on him, and that knowledge bothered Harry. And the fact that it did bother him, made it even worse, because now he felt like he was being selfish for feeling that way. If he were really a good friend he would be happy for them instead of being jealous that they had something he didn't. But he was jealous and even though he tried to fight it, there were times, like now, when he still found himself thinking about their relationship in terms of how it affected him.

It's no wonder Ron is keeping whatever is really bothering him to himself, Harry thought, realizing that he hadn't exactly been there for either of his friends recently. He'd been so caught up in himself and his own problems during the past year that he hadn't really given any thought to anyone else's problems. And now that he finally was trying, it was a little too late because while he'd been busy leaning on them, they'd gotten used to supporting one another. He'd tried to keep Ron distracted after Hermione left. He'd tried to give him something else to focus on, hence the visit to the Astronomy Tower to spy on the Slytherin's Quidditch team, but obviously it hadn't been enough. And beyond offering a distraction, Harry was really at a loss as to what he ought to do.

"It's hard to explain," Harry said, knowing that Ron was sulking upstairs and basically biding his time until Hermione showed up, because she was the one that knew how to deal with his various moods and make him feel better. She knew how to do it because he, Harry, had always stepped aside and let her do it, just like he'd always stepped aside and let Ron deal with her. He'd done it because it was easier and because dealing with other people's emotions made him uncomfortable.

It made Ron uncomfortable too, he told himself, but he still did it. He did it because someone had to.

"You can give it a try," Ginny suggested.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry replied briskly, before packing his mouth full of potatoes so he wouldn't be able to answer anymore questions.

INSERT BREAK

"Ron?" Hermione called out as she knocked on the door of the 6th year boys' dorm, having ventured upstairs when she entered the Gryffindor common room and found it all but deserted. "I know you're in there," she said, feeling her stomach flip in response to his as the guilt he was feeling continued to eat away at them both. "I'm coming in."

"I don't want to talk about it," he stated the instant he heard the door open. "So just go away and leave me alone."

"You would have locked the door and shielded the room if you wanted to be left alone," Hermione countered, marching over to the bed he was hiding in. "So don't give me that rubbish. And even if you did want me to go, I still wouldn't leave," she added. "I'm not going anywhere until you stop doing this to yourself," she insisted, "because you're driving me insane."

"I'm driving you insane?" Ron asked, coming up on his knees and wrenching the curtains surrounding his bed open so he could meet her angry gaze with one of his own. "It's all my fault is it? Because I'm not supposed to feel anything even though I know you're on a date with some other bloke."

"It wasn't a date," Hermione practically shouted, irritated with him for purposely being thick and trying to divert her attention by changing the subject. "And you know it."

"Yeah well, maybe it should have been," Ron shouted back. "Because..."

"Don't you say it!" she shrieked. "Don't you dare. I told you what I'd do if I ever heard you say something like that about yourself again," she warned, knowing exactly where this conversation was heading.

His frustration had given way to anger while she was still in the library trying unsuccessfully to tune him out so she could get at least a modicum of work done on her project. But all that pent up energy and emotion needed to be released and when she didn't return straight away and give him the row he wanted, he had no one to vent it on, so he turned it all on himself. Ron was now so riddled with self-doubt and self-loathing that Hermione actually found herself struggling to hold back tears.

"Stop," she moaned. "Please just stop. It hurts," she said, her eyes welling up. "It hurts me to see you like this. To see what you're doing to yourself, to feel it," she added, swiping her hand over her cheeks. "Because it's not true."

"Says you," Ron muttered, flopping over on his back and disappearing behind the curtains surrounding his bed once more.

"If you were really that worthless don't you think I'd pity you?" she asked, shifting the curtain out of her way and climbing on the bed with him. "Is that what I feel when I look at you?" she pressed. "Pity? Have you ever felt that from me? Is that what I'm feeling now?"

"No," he admitted somewhat reluctantly, not even bothering to look up at her.

"What am I feeling?"

"Anger."

"No, that's you," she replied almost before he even got the word out. "Try again."

"I don't want to play your bloody games, Hermione," Ron barked. "And I don't want to talk about it. Just... leave me alone."

"I'm not going anywhere," she retorted. "Not until we've worked through this. Now tell me what I'm feeling."

"Stop it," Ron groaned when he felt her love and compassion grip his own heart and twist into something painful. "I don't want to feel that," he said, referring to the grief he was causing her.

"I don't want to feel it either," she replied honestly. "So stop doing this to yourself. Stop doing it to me."

"I can't help it," he admitted miserably, rolling over on his side so his back was facing her.

"This isn't just about Quidditch, is it?" Hermione asked, crawling up the bed on her hands and knees, and settling down beside him. She knew full well that he'd had a bad practice today because she'd been able to feel his level of frustration increase the longer he was out on the Pitch. Quidditch was definitely part of it, because he was beating himself up. But more than that, he was worried. He was afraid that he'd mess up during the actual match and not only would he make a fool of himself, he'd let all of Gryffindor House down in the process. She knew that was what he was afraid of because she could feel the guilt and sense of worthlessness that went along with his fear, but now Hermione realized there might just be more to it then just that. She now suspected that he might be anxious about something else as well, she just wasn't sure what. "I can't help you unless you tell me what it is," she said, reaching out and placing her hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," Ron moaned, his voice hovering somewhere between fury and desolation. "What isn't bloody wrong?" he asked, rolling over to face her again. "There's a maniac after my best friend. His twisted band of followers have broken out of prison and they've already come after you once. The first Hogsmeade visit is coming up, but we can't set foot in the village because he might be there waiting for us and I still haven't told Harry that we can't go yet because I don't know how he'll take it. And as if that weren't enough," Ron continued, the complaints just rolling off his tongue now, "I'm rubbish at Quidditch. I can't block a single bloody ring, which means we're going to lose and it'll be all my fault."

"Malfoy will never catch the snitch," Hermione interrupted, trying to be helpful and yet not really succeeding. "The Slytherin's will need to score off you 16 times more than we managed to score off them in order to win. Which isn't going to happen. And you don't need to worry about Harry. I'll tell him about Hogsmeade," she added, almost as if it were an afterthought. "What?" she asked, when Ron gape at her in disbelief.

"That's not the bloody point."

"So you aren't worried about losing to Slytherin then?" she asked, sounding somewhat confused. "Just about making a fool of yourself in front of the whole school?"

"Thank you so much for reminding me," he groaned, flopping over on his back again and staring up at nothing. "I feel so much better now that I know you think I'm rubbish too. What I can't figure out is what the hell you're doing here with me. Especially now that I know you think I'm a fool. Why would you want to be saddled with someone mediocre when you could have..."

"I swear to god, if you say Terry Boot I'll have no choice but to hex you."

"What happened to us?" Ron asked, sitting up and locking his eyes on Hermione so she was able to see his misery as well as feel it. "Just a couple days ago we were happy. Weren't we?" he asked. "I know I was. I thought you were too. I really thought that I made you happy and now?" he said, shaking his head sadly. "Now it's all ruined and I still can't figure out what the hell happened. I know I hurt your feelings and that somehow I insulted you without even meaning to and we just... we never really came back from it. You said you were ok, but you're... you're not happy anymore and you barely even let me touch you."

"It's not you, Ron," Hermione tried to assure him as she reached out for his arm.

"Spare me the it's not you, it's me speech," he cut in.

"It's the bond," she said, managing to take him by surprise.

"What?"

"It's not you," Hermione stated. "I think it's the bond," she said with a sigh. "The book warned that it might be disruptive, I just didn't... I think we're feeding off each other again," she stated. "Only in a negative way this time. I didn't mean for...," she started and then stopped. "I'm sorry about your practice," she said instead of whatever it was she'd been about to say. "I think that might have been my fault," she admitted.

"I knew you were irritated when I left," she tried to explain, as Ron looked at her questioningly. "And that you've been frustrated because... well, because I pulled away and put a halt to our extracurricular activities for a little while. And I'll admit that I'm a bit frustrated by that as well, but I think it might be worse for you."

No, you think? a sarcastic voice rang out in his head.

"But it's not because I don't want to be with you," she stated. "It's because I do," she assured him, "but I know that we won't be able to stop once we get started. I know we'll feed off each other and when things get heated, I won't want to stop you and... it just seemed better not to even go there until I was sure that I could handle it. I didn't realize that you'd get so frustrated so quickly," she explained. "I didn't realize I'd be frustrated as well, but I am and having you feel my frustrations as well as your own certainly isn't helping matters," Hermione continued, "but you are feeling it because of the bond," she added, "and that's just making it worse."

"I was feeling your frustration and your irritation with me while I was in the library with Terry, and I just couldn't seem to concentrate or get anything done," she rambled on, going out of her way to speak fast so he wouldn't have a chance to interrupt her before she got it all out. "I tried to block your feelings out like the book suggested, but it was like the harder I tried not to feel them, the more distracted I became and I just... I wasn't getting anything accomplished and that just made it worse, because I was angry with myself for not being able to focus. I was disappointed with myself and I think I might have accidentally transferred that to you while you were at practice. I just wasn't thinking about the fact that I was sending all my own frustrations back to you and that you were taking it all on yourself and then sending it back to me and... well...that's the reason you couldn't concentrate, why neither of us could. It's the stupid bond. We just... we need to get used to it, that's all."

"Used to it?" Ron asked, staring at her in disbelief. "Are you telling me that any time you're in a bad mood, your bad mood will become mine, and vise versa, and that we'll continue to feed off each other until one of us explodes and bites the head off the other one?"

"It's not like we don't do that anyway," she replied.

"HERMIONE!"

"We just have to get used to it," she reassured him. "Figure out how to recognize the negative feelings as belonging to someone else and then block them out."

"What if I can't?" Ron asked, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt. He didn't want to spend the next two weeks fighting with her about nothing. He had a match on Saturday. What if this whole bond thing got worse instead of better? How was he supposed to play if he still couldn't concentrate?

"Then we let it wear off," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"No bloody way," Ron barked, panic gripping him again for an entirely different reason. "And it isn't about the sex," he added the instant he saw one of her eyebrows arch, recognizing the gesture as the warning that it was because he could feel the suspicion that flashed through her as she did it. "Didn't you hear what I said about You-know-who and his followers being after you and Harry? Just because we aren't going into Hogsmeade doesn't mean I'm going to let you walk around unprotected. We're maintaining the blasted link," he stated adamantly. "Even if it means I have to give up Quidditch."

"How do you do that?" Hermione asked, her whole demeanor softening. "One minute you have me so agitated I want to bang my head against the wall and scream, then you turn around and say something so sweet that I just... But you aren't going to have to give up Quidditch," she said, unable to keep from smiling now. "I appreciate the gesture though."

"I sure as hell can't play like this," he sighed.

"You'll do better tomorrow," Hermione assured him.

"Yeah, right," he muttered under his breath, looking at her doubtfully.

"You will," Hermione insisted. "You're not angry anymore are you?" she asked, but she didn't give him time to reply, since she already knew the answer. "And our Transfiguration essay isn't due until Thursday, which means technically you could take the night off and go to bed early so you'll be well rested. Of course if you do that, you're going to have to buck down and work doubly hard tomorrow night. But if you promise me that you'll devote the entire night to your homework," she said with a slight smirk, "I'll promise to make sure you aren't frustrated before practice."

"That sounds a lot like blackmail to me," Ron said with a cheeky smile of his own.

"I prefer to think of it as incentive," Hermione replied jovially.

"You certainly know how to motivate me," he laughed, reaching out, taking her hands in his, and then using them to pull her down on the bed beside him.

"So we've got a deal then?" Hermione asked.

"Absolutely," Ron replied, lightly running his index finger down her neck. "You will help me though?" he asked, smiling to himself when he watched her shudder under his touch. "With the essay," he clarified when he felt her arousal deepen after he'd asked his question and he realized that she'd misinterpreted what he wanted help with. Not that he wouldn't like that kind of help as well; it just wasn't what he'd been referring to. "Because you know Harry and I will just flub it up and spend the whole night going around in circles without you."

"I'm not doing it for you if that's what you're asking," she replied, her eyes shut as she enjoyed his tender caresses. "But I will proof read it for you when you're finished."

"And you'll explain anything that I'm confused about?" Ron asked, replacing his finger with his lips and kissing her neck briefly, before nuzzling against her and speaking again directly into her ear. "Because you know it makes more sense when you tell me things. You just have a knack for explaining complicated spells."

"Yes," Hermione sighed, pressing her body more firmly against his as she answered him, finally allowing her own hands to wander a bit.

Ron was definitely what Hermione would label a 'visual learner'. He paid close attention to what was going on around him and naturally took in things both she and Harry missed. Not only that, he was able to read people based on nothing more than their body language. A quintessential hallmark of a visual learner. He also had an uncanny ability to visualize things or formulate plans, and then see them come to fruition in his minds eye before he acted them out, which explained why he was so good at chess.

The problem was, without something visual to focus on when he was studying, Ron tended to loose focus and pay attention to other things going on in the room because they were more interesting. Like Harry, who was obviously a 'kinesthetic learner', Ron tended to get bored with lectures and tedious reading that didn't have any pictures or visual references to stimulate him. What he needed, what both boys needed in a situation like that actually, was a practical demonstration, because simply reading about the proper way to cast a new spell wasn't enough.

Harry learned best through movement, by having Hermione demonstrate new spells for him step by step and then mimicking her actions. Harry was definitely a 'hands-on' learner. He had to try things for himself in order to work out the kinks. Ron learned by watching Hermione teach Harry how to do things. Once he visually saw it done correctly, everything that he read and hadn't understood usually clicked into place. Once he saw the proper wrist movement in conjunction with the incantation, not only was Ron able to mimic it, he could usually remember the new movement and keep it separate from another spell that required a similar flick of the wrist. But it definitely helped having Hermione be the one to demonstrate the spells for him, because he was especially attuned to her body language and that made it easier for him to pick up on the subtle changes in the way she held her wand, as opposed to say the way someone else, like McGonagall, did.

The fact that Ron was such a visual person did have its upside however. Not only was he able to read Hermione's body language and use it to gauge her mood with a high degree of accuracy, he was also very good at visualizing images he'd seen in the past and replaying them in his head. A skill that unbeknownst to Hermione, he'd been using with more and more frequency ever since the two of them had started making the most of their alone time together. And at the moment, Ron happened to recall a rather provocative image he'd seen in that book Bill had given him. Something he'd been eager to try out, but as of yet, hadn't had the nerve to mention.

It was obviously something that at least one of his brothers had been greatly interested in as well, because not only was that particular page warn, it appeared to have been dog-eared more than once. Although why anyone would need to mark the page in order to find it again, was beyond Ron, considering the name of the position and the page number on which it could be found happened to be the same.

With that specific image replaying in his mind, Ron looked at Hermione and silently tried to judge whether or not he thought she'd be receptive if he suggested they try it. She was relaxed and comfortable. Not only that, she was clearly in the mood. He could feel that as well as see it. Her hands were roaming pretty freely down his backside after all. If he played his cards right and suggested it in a way that was subtle, she just might go for it. She'd already admitted to him that she was frustrated too. And the position contained on page 69 of his secret book would definitely help alleviate that. As long as he kept himself under control, didn't use his fingers, and was gentle, there was no reason she shouldn't enjoy it just as much as he would.

INSERT BREAK

"Merlin's beard!" Neville yelped, freezing in the doorway of his dorm room and turning a brilliant shade of red the instant he opened the door and the sounds issuing from behind the curtains of Ron's four poster bed registered with him.

"What?" Seamus asked, coming up behind Neville just as he stepped back into the hallway and slammed the door shut. "OY! Weasley, you wanker!" Seamus yelled through the now closed door, after taking in Neville's startled expression and his obvious embarrassment, then using them to jump to the wrong conclusion. "Haven't you ever heard of a shielding charm?"

"I don't think that's what he's doing," Neville said, not to Seamus, but to Harry, blushing even deeper as he spoke. He couldn't be certain of course, because it had only been for an instant, but Neville was fairly certain that the moans he'd heard had been come from more than one person.

"No way!" Seamus cried out jubilantly, reaching around Neville to get at the doorknob.

"Don't even think about it," Harry cried, grabbing the eager Irishman by the back of the shirt and hauling him away from the door.

"If he's snogging some bird in there, that's against the rules," Seamus exclaimed, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Which he knows, seeing as how he's a prefect and all. Bloody hell!" he cried, as the further implications of his statement hit home. They're both bloody prefects. "Do you know that this means?" he asked Neville, who just stared back at him blankly. "We just caught perfect prefect Hermione Granger breaking the rules in a big, BIG way."

"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, glancing down the hallway nervously. "Before someone else hears you."

"You knew!" the sandy haired Irishman cried, pointing a finger at Harry. "Of course you knew. I bet you've even been covering for them, haven't you? If he gets to sneak girls up here so do I?" Seamus continued, instantly hitting on a way to work the situation to his advantage.

"Not if I kill you, you don't," Ron growled, throwing the door open and staring into the hallway to make sure no one else was within earshot to hear what Seamus was carrying on about. "Now get in here," he said, grabbing a hold of Neville, who happened to be closest, and pulling him into the room, "and shut the fuck up."

"Language Ron!" Hermione admonished, from where she now stood beside his bed.

"I knew it!" Seamus cried triumphantly, hurrying into the room without Harry even needing to push him along. "You two are soooo busted," he said, a huge smile plastered across his face as he took in Hermione's disheveled hair and swollen lips. "Your shirts on inside out," he said, laughing when Hermione's eyes immediately darted down to check. "Not yours," Seamus guffawed. "His," he said, pointing at Ron, who was now just as red in the face as both Hermione and Neville.

"Not a word about this to anyone," Ron said, managing to sound threatening despite his embarrassment.

"Yeah, right," Seamus laughed.

"You have no one to blame but yourself then," the redhead snapped, spinning around and locking his eyes on Hermione. "Obliviate him."

"What?" both Hermione and Seamus said in disbelief at nearly the same time.

"If you aren't going to go along, we'll have to modify your memory," Ron said, hoping his threat might bring his bothersome roommate around.

"What about Neville?" Seamus shot back. "Are you going to have her Obliviate him too?"

"I can trust Neville," Ron retorted. "He knows how to keep his mouth shut. You don't."

"Ron, you can't seriously..." Hermione started to say, but she was cut off before she had the chance to finish.

"I'm not going to," Ron stated, "you are. If you don't he'll tell everyone," he explained. "And then people will start talking and I'll have to beat the hell out of half the bloody school. Best to just nip it in the bud now before it gets out of hand."

"He isn't going to say anything," Hermione said, the connection she had with Ron having clued her in on the fact that he wasn't entirely serious. If he wanted to play the bad cop, she was going to have to play the good one. Then again, good wasn't exactly the appropriate word for what she knew Ron had in mind. "Sure, getting us saddled with a detention might be somewhat satisfying," she said, knowing that Seamus was likely to want a little pay back, seeing as how Ron had personally given him a detention for mouthing off not all that long ago. "But is it worth what he'd be giving up?"

"Aye, right?" Seamus scoffed. "And what exactly might that be?"

"You said it yourself," Ron replied. "If I can sneak girls up here, so can you. Provided no one else catches on, that is," he added. "Because once it becomes common knowledge... well, that's the end to all of our fun."

"You seriously expect me to believe that she'd sit back and do nothing, even though she knew I was bringing girls up here?" Seamus asked, his eyes now locked on Hermione, seeing as how she was the one that was usually the stickler for the rules. Unless that rule applies to her, he thought with a smirk. In which case she appears to be only too happy to ignore them. Weasley must be more persuasive than I gave him credit for. I wonder what McGonagall would say if she knew what her perfect little pet student was up to?

"It only seems fair," Ron replied for Hermione, when she crossed her arms in front of her chest and remained silent.

He knew what she was thinking. He'd have known even if he hadn't felt the resentment that was coursing through her body, because it was written all over her face. She didn't like the fact that Seamus thought he had her cornered. She wanted to wipe that smug smirk right off his face. And it would be so easy for her to do, because technically they weren't doing anything wrong. The rule they were supposedly breaking stipulated that there was to be no cohabitation between unmarried students. Unmarried being the key word there. Technically they could snog anywhere they wanted. They could do it right under Snape's hooked nose if they were so inclined, provided they were willing to reveal their secret marriage. And therein lay the problem. As much as she'd like to, she wasn't willing to divulge that particular bit of information, especially to someone with a mouth the size of Seamus'. So as much as she hated it, Hermione knew that she had no choice but to go along and let him think that he had her dead to rights. But it irked her to no end to do it.

"I want to hear it from her," Seamus retorted.

"Fine," she spat out her reply, clearly bothered by the fact that she had to agree. "I won't do anything. Not as long as no one outside this room knows what's going on," she added. "But if I catch the younger students following your lead, I'm putting a stop to the whole thing."

"Meaning the bird in question has to be a 6th year?" Seamus asked.

"No, you can sneak a 7th year in here if you like," Ron replied with a smirk. "Provided you can find one desperate enough that is."

"Sod off, Weasley. I can get a 7th year before you can."

"The difference being I don't want one," Ron retorted. "Where are you going?" he asked, shifting his attention to Hermione, who was slowly inching her way towards the door, hoping no one would notice.

Up to my own room to dig a hole, crawl in it, and die, she thought. "I don't especially want to hear anymore details about what he's planning," she said in way of an excuse. "It's better if I just go now and let you boys work the details out amongst yourselves. Just...er... no," she said, shaking her head as if she'd changed her mind mid thought. "I don't even want to know the details once you've work them out. Whatever Ron decides is fine with me," she said, her eyes now glued to the floor.

"Am I hearing things, or did she just give Weasley permission to make decisions without consulting her?" Seamus asked Harry, who was damn near as startled as the rest of his roommates.

"Looks like," Harry responded, trying not to goggle at Ron when he turned his back on the rest of them and followed Hermione over to the door.

"Ok, whatever spell he used on her, I want to know how to cast it."

"Wait a second," Ron said, completely missing the Irishman's comment because he was so focused on Hermione. "You are going to come back up later, right?" he asked, purposely lowering his voice.

"No," she replied in a tone that all but screamed, 'are you crazy?'

"Please," he said, dropping his voice even lower and subtly running his finger down her arm as he reached for her hand. "I'll get rid of them," he whispered hopefully.

"Absolutely not," she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, then slipping out of the room and into the hallway before he had a chance to say anything else.

"Thanks a lot, Finnigan," Ron barked, spinning around to face his roommates once more. "Way to ruin what was shaping up to be a perfect evening."

"You're dreaming if you think she's going to do anything other than snog you up here," Seamus replied, despite the fact he was no longer completely sure of that fact.

Weasley had already proven that he had a knack for getting Granger to do unexpected things. Not only had she hexed Lavender Brown clear across the common room in a fit of jealous rage, now he had her breaking school rules and sneaking up to his bedroom. Clearly Seamus didn't have her pegged as well as he thought he did, but he wasn't willing to admit that.

"Neville here has a better chance of having it off with Loony Lovegood," the Irishman pressed on, moving towards the doorway Ron was currently blocking. "Now if you don't mind," he said, pushing Ron to one side so he could get through it, "I'm going to go downstairs, scare up a bird of my own, and see if I can't have myself a right good pash. If there's a tie hanging on the doorknob the next time you come up, don't bother trying to get in because the room will be occupied."

"Tosser," Ron mumbled, once Seamus had brushed by and closed the door behind him. "Er... sorry about that," he said apologetically, turning around to look at Harry and Neville, both of whom were staring at him. "I'm sure Hermione wouldn't object if you two wanted to... you know, sneak a girl up here yourself every now and then."

Hermione might not, but you probably would, Harry thought, floored by the fact that the first girl that popped into his head at Ron's suggestion happened to be his best friend's little sister. Although as he'd already mentioned to Ron, Ginny wasn't really all that little anymore. She'd grown up.

And she's filled out in all the right places, a little voice in the back of his head added.

Shut up! he shouted at the voice in his head. That's Ron's sister. You can't have thoughts like that about her.

Unfortunately for Harry, it was already too late. The thoughts were there now, whether he liked it or not, and for some reason they weren't so easy to just put out of his mind.

"We'll just do what Seamus suggested then," Ron continued, blissfully unaware of the impure thoughts his best mate was having about his baby sister. "Just put a tie on the doorknob when the room's occupied and you don't want to be disturbed," he said, the color in his ears bleeding down and over taking his face once more. "You two ok with that?"

"With what?" Harry asked, having missed everything Ron said.

"With putting a tie on the doorknob as a sign the room is occupied?" the redhead replied.

"Isn't that a bit obvious?" Harry said, trying to pull himself together. "I mean anyone walking down the hall is bound to see that and Hermione said if anyone else found out ..."

"You might have a point there," Ron admitted. "You got any better ideas?"

"You could charm the doorknob," Neville suggested, taking both boys by surprise. "Make it hot or something. Because I might not even see a tie if I was in a hurry or distracted," he admitted, "but I'd definitely notice if the doorknob was hot. I mean how can you not notice something like that? There's no way you could forget what it means either, plus you'd have to actually touch the doorknob to know."

"Works for me," Ron said after taking a moment to mull Neville's suggestion over in his head. "What about you, Harry?"

"Huh?"

"I'm sure Hermione will know the perfect spell," Ron continued, glancing at his best friend and smirking because he had a fairly good idea what was distracting him. Already thinking about who you want to bring up, eh? "Something warm enough to get your attention, but not so hot that it'll really burn you. And something that isn't too complicated," he said, after glancing over at Neville again. "I wouldn't want to flub it up because I was distracted or anything," he added. "But just in case, try and remember to lock the door and shield the room as well."

"Like you did?" Harry asked.

"It wasn't like we were planning on doing anything like that," Ron said defensively. "We were just talking and..."

"And one thing lead to another," Harry finished for him. "I get it. Only the next time something like that happens, do us all a favor and stop long enough to lock the door. Not that it really matters now I suppose," he added, "You and Hermione are going to have to find somewhere else to snog anyway," he added, when Ron looked confused. "Because now that you've given Seamus free reign, you'll have a hard time getting in here yourself."
"Naw," Ron disagreed with a cheeky grin. "He still has to waste his time trying to find someone that's interested and then talk her into it. I've got him beat on both counts.

"Ok, that's enough!" Harry said quickly, holding his hand out to stop Ron. "I don't really want to hear about how you talked her into it. It falls under the category of too much information."

"I wasn't going to tell you," Ron replied with a chuckle.

"Good."

"Although," Ron added, smiling even wider, "that's not all I talked her into. Somehow, and don't ask me how because I don't really know, I managed to get out of doing a lick of homework tonight and the best part is, it was her idea. Can you believe that? What do you say we make the most of it? You up for a game of chess?"

"Naw," Harry said, shaking his head slowly as he declined his best mate's offer. "I need to get started on those relaxation exercises Tonks told me about. You know to help me with my...Occlumency," he added quietly, after glancing over at Neville who was now attending his mimbulus mimbletonia to make sure he wasn't paying attention.

"So what?" Ron asked. "You're just going to go lie in your bed and practice relaxing? Isn't that called going to sleep? I'd think you'd have that down by now, seeing as how you do it every night."

"Actually I think I'm going to go to the Room of Requirement," Harry replied, popping his trunk while Neville's back was still turned. "It'll be quiet there and Tonks said I should do it in a place where I wasn't likely to be interrupted, at least until I got the hang of it and could tune other people out."

"Why don't you use the Prefects' Bathroom?" Ron asked. "The password is..."

"No, that's all right," Harry said, despite the fact he was tempted by the offer. A nice long soak in a pool size tub of hot water would definitely be relaxing, especially after two days of rigorous Quidditch practice. The problem was, Malfoy was a prefect and the last thing Harry wanted was to get caught by him using a room that technically was off limits. "I better not risk it," he said. "I wouldn't want to get you in trouble or anything. The Room of Requirement will work fine," he assured his friend as he made for the door.

"You won't need that," Ron said, when Harry fished his invisibility cloak out of his trunk and balled it up in his arms to help disguise it somewhat. "Ginny has rounds tonight. Even if she does catch you out after curfew, it's not like she's going to reprimand you anything."

"Ginny doesn't do rounds on her own," Harry reminded him. "I'll probably be back before curfew, but I think I'm going to take this along anyway, just in case. I'm sure you'll find another way to entertain yourself until I get back," he added with a smirk of his own as he stepped out into the hall. "Only please don't be doing it in the common room when I get back, because I really don't want to see the two of you going at it again."

"Couldn't do it there even if I wanted to," Ron replied glumly. "Bloody first year rule, remember? And apparently the Room of Requirement is now taken."

"There's always the Prefects' Bathroom," Harry shot back. "Although now that I think of it, you should definitely nix that idea," he added, coming to an abrupt halt and spinning around to look his best friend in the eye. "Kind of hard to enjoy yourself when you know Moaning Myrtle is spying on you from the tap."

"WHAT!" Ron yelped, his eyes bugging out as he mouth fell open in horror at the mere thought of Myrtle watching him take a bath. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Didn't I tell you?" Harry asked, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "I could have sworn that I did. Oh well, so she saw you starkers a few times."

"OH WELL!" Ron cried in horror, thinking back on all the times he'd allowed himself to fantasize about Hermione while he was in that room because he'd thought he was alone. "BLOODY BUGGERING HELL HARRY! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?"

"Who saw you starkers?" Neville asked, Ron's shouts having drawn his full attention.

"Moaning Myrtle," Harry replied.

"Who?"

"The ghost that haunts the girls' toilet on the second floor. She likes to spy on people in the Prefects' Bathroom."

"Oh," Neville said, and then the lights clicked on. "OH!" he said again, understanding exactly why Ron's face was the same color as his hair. "That's... well, that kind of sucks actually. Wait a minute; she doesn't spy in the other bathrooms does she?"

"I don't know?" Harry answered honestly. "I hadn't thought about it actually." I suppose she could, but... no... "I don't think we need to worry," he replied. "She's only ever come out to talk to me that one time when I was in the Prefects' Bathroom and she swore that she looked away while I was getting ready to get in the water. I'm sure she did the same with you," he said to Ron, who was still gaping at him. "Well, I better get going if I want to get anything done before curfew," he said, spinning around and starting down the hall again on his own.