I'm running as fast as I can through a deep, dark forest. I can see Harry and Ron running just ahead of me. Green jets of light shoot past me, hitting the trees all around. One spell destroys a tree only two feet away.

"Kill the girl and the redhead!" screeches Voldemort's icy voice. "Leave Potter to me!"

Right in front of me, Harry has stopped running. I see a look of determination and anger on his sweaty face as he points his wand past me. Ron stops too, equally determined, but I can see the desperate fear in his wide eyes. I run the rest of the way to where they are standing, wand at the ready. I'm out of breath and sweat is soaking my robes. Suddenly, Harry cries out and all three of us charge back towards the Death Eaters, back towards Voldemort.

Then it happens. Two jets of green and both Harry and Ron are down. Their bodies are limp. I stop running and fall to the ground, overwhelmed.

I gasp and find myself lying in my bed. My sheets are drenched in sweat. I take seven steadying breaths as tears stream down my face. I've had nightmares like this so often, but Harry and Ron never died before my eyes. For the entire past week, these nightmares have been growing worse and my two best friends have consistently found me in the common room.

True to my newest trend, I creep quietly downstairs. I'm still shaking and, even though I know it was a dream, I can't stop crying. Lost in my thoughts, I wander into the common room. To my surprise, Ron is there waiting for me. I frantically try to wipe away my tears.

"Hermione," Ron whispers sadly. He holds his arms out to me and I collapse against his chest, my tears no longer silent. He holds me and pets my hair. Slowly, carefully, Ron leads me to a chair. He sits down and pulls me onto his lap. Ron strokes my arm and says "Hermione, what's up?"

I've calmed down a little bit by now. "Harry died and…and…you…" I can't finish, but Ron understands.

"It's okay, Hermione, it's okay," Ron whispers. He pulls me close and kisses my forehead. He holds me as I cry myself back to sleep.

I open my eyes blearily when Ron shakes my shoulder. "Mmmm," I mumble sleepily, "I'm tired. It's Saturday." I press my cheek against his warm, bare chest. Wait! His bare chest? My eyes fly back open and I look down. Thankfully, he is wearing his blue-and-green plaid boxers and I am still dressed in my nightclothes. Or is that unfortunately…?

"Ron, where is your shirt?" I ask unconcernedly.

"What's the matter? You don't like it off? You seemed pretty determined to get more than just my shirt off last night," Ron says. I'm fully awake now. I gasp, but Ron starts laughing. "I took my shirt off because you cried all over it."

I give Ron my best glare of indignation as he puts his shirt back on and playfully punch him in the shoulder. "You are such a prat!" I inform him. "You shouldn't-"

Ron stops me mid-sentence with a well-aimed kiss. I pull away smiling. I try to speak again ("You know you can't just-"), but Ron's tender kiss wins once more. He makes this kiss a bit deeper without abandoning his jovial manner.

The moment of young frivolity is broken as Ginny Weasley addresses us: "Ewww! We all know you two are together, you don't have to prove it!"

I pull away from Ginny's older brother, blushing furiously. Ginny continues to stare at us in utter disgust until I have climbed out of Ronald's lap. While I am mortified by Ginny's comment, Ron seems to be offended instead. His deep blue eyes flash irately, and he stands to face his sister, who is still quite petite. This move would actually be intimidating to someone who doesn't know Ron, but Ginny doesn't bat an eye.

"Where do you come off saying that, eh?" Ron growls. We both know that this is how Ron deals with his insecurity. Something instantly clicks in my mind and, in the space of two seconds, I realize that Ron must have liked me for a long time and that he never thought he had a chance with me. My chocolate-colored eyes widen in surprise.

My astonishment only deepens as Ginny, whose temper is every bit as hot as any other Weasley's, actually smiles! She is standing directly in front of her towering, angry brother and grinning from ear to ear. Then, in a rare show of sisterly affection, she hugs Ronald and says, "you know it's my job as your little sister to be annoying!" Ginny releases her dumbfounded captive and exits through the portrait-hole into the chilly stone corridors.

I quickly surmise that Ginny must be on her period. I chuckle to myself and turn my attention to Ron, who is standing immobile with his features frozen in shock. My dainty giggles over Ginny's conduct give way to a very unlady-like snort of mirth. Ron's face thaws as he redirects his attention from the blank wall to me. His eyebrows knit in confusion at my outburst, which only makes me laugh harder.

"What's up with you?" queries Ron.

I do my best to sober myself. I manage to stop laughing, but my eyes continue to sparkle and a giant grin holds my countenance. "It's nothing, Ron, it's nothing," I shake my head. He looks skeptical for a moment and shrugs. I take a few steps closer to him and whisper, "You look so cute when you're confused."

He blushes and modestly lowers his gaze to my feet. Something in the way he seems so bashful, twisting his fingers together, reminds me of my earlier cogitation about his prolonged, hidden fancy for me. I continue honestly, "You know, I like a lot of things about you." He tentatively looks into my equally shy visage. I move a little closer to his warm body. "I like your smile," I say. Ron gives me an involuntary trademark grin. "And I like the way you kiss, too." He leans in to place a (voluntary) kiss on my red lips. I am soon enfolded in his arms and engaged in a sweet lovers' kiss.

Unfortunately, we hapless lovers are disturbed yet again by Harry's voice calling down the boys' dormitory stairs, "Ron, I hope you're down there! We have Quidditch practice today!"

Ron looks around to the old staircase with an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I'm here," he shouts back, releasing my waist, "but I'm not dressed for Quidditch, yet." He lowers his voice when Harry reaches the bottom of the spiraling steps.

"Well you had better hurry, mate."

"Yeah, I will." Ron starts climbing the stairs. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Right, see you at breakfast," Harry says to Ron. Next, Harry turns to me, "Are you coming down for an early breakfast with us, 'Mione?"

"Sure," I say. "I'll get dressed and come down with Ron."

Harry nods at me and winds his way down to the Great Hall. I rush up the stairs to Ron's dormitory. "Ron?" I yell through the door. I hear footsteps and the door opens slightly. Ron's face appears in the opening along with his bare shoulders.

"What Hermione? I'm naked; you can't come in."

Yet again I blush. In a moment Ron catches on to the information he revealed and turns just as red. We both try to ignore it. "Er…Ron, I'm coming down to early breakfast with you. Will you please wait for me to change?"

"Sure, H-Hermione. See you downstairs, then." Ron disappears and the door closes. I stand, still staring at the rectangle of wood between myself and a very sexily unclad Ronald Weasley. For the second time in a day, I, Miss Perfect, have had slightly naughty thoughts about Ronald. Though I have admitted these socially condemned transgressions to myself, to all of society I will remain the definition of perfection. My so-called "sinful" thoughts, however, are finally pushed to the back of my brain as I climb to my room and change clothes.

Minutes later I gracefully waltz into the common room. Ron is tapping his foot impatiently and asks, "What took you so long? I've been waiting forever!"

I keep my cool and say, "Ron, a girl needs more time for primping." I fluff my brown curls coyly.

"Well I don't see a difference from this morning," he mutters.

"What! My hair looks much better! I did a spell to get rid of the frizz and everything," I say a little loudly.

"Oh come off it, Hermione, your hair's always frizzy; you'll never have hair that's smooth like Parvati's."

I don't know what to say so I stomp to the portrait-hole. Then, out of nowhere, "Why don't you go snip off Parvati's beautiful locks and put them under your pillow? And don't bother accompanying me on the way to breakfast." I say the last sentence with a painfully even tone. I turn on my heel, my robe swishing like a gown, and regally start down the corridor. Ron is left in the empty room, fuming. When the entrance to the Gryffindor tower shuts me out of view, tears threaten. Stinging, burning pain attacks my dark eyes, but I don't let a single tear escape. The inner storm threatens off and on all the way down to the Great Hall. I stop it cold with a smile just before I walk through the echoing entrance.

"'Morning, Harry," I say brightly.

"Hi, 'Mione…Where's Ron?" Harry questions.

"Oh, I suppose he'll be coming in any minute now," I say, ever so nonchalant. Harry gives me a quizzical look then returns to his toast and eggs. My cheery façade waivers, but neither Harry nor any other member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team notices.

No sooner do I begin eating than Ron shows up. His bad mood is obvious to any fool. "Hello, Ron," Harry greets him with his mouth full of scrambled eggs. Ron doesn't answer. "What's up, mate?" Harry asks earnestly.

"Hermione's being grumpy," Ronald says more to me than to Harry.

"I am not grumpy. I just think you were rude," I explain simply.

"Hmph!" Ron expresses, dropping heavily onto the wooden bench beside Harry and spears a sausage with his fork. The Great Hall falls silent except for the clatter of silverware issuing from the sleepy team and myself.

When everyone has finished eating, I walk out to the Quidditch pitch with them and find a seat in the stands. Ginny, a Gryffindor Chaser and the team captain, talks to her teammates, then one-by-one they mount their brooms and soar into the air. They really are an excellent team. The newer recruits are a fine group and the three veterans (Ginny, Harry, and Ron) are absolutely unbeatable. Ginny, while she made a great Seeker, is an even better Chaser. Harry, of course, remains the best Seeker in the history of Hogwarts. And Ron is now nearly as good a Keeper as Oliver Wood.

The thought of Ron ushers in the gray cloud that has been hanging over my head all morning. I don't feel like holding back my tears any longer so I call up to Harry. "Hey! Harry! I have to get to work on an essay! I'll see you later!"

"Okay!" Harry's voice echoes through the stadium. My legs steadily carry me into the castle and up to my dormitory. My roommates are all soundly asleep. I calmly climb into my bed, close the scarlet hangings, perform a silencing charm, and set free the torrent of pain I've been hiding.