(A/N: Okay, so I've got a couple complaints about why Hermione's fainting so much. SORRY! But I've actually got an idea for a plot now so please just bear with me. I was thinking about making her faint one more time, but apparently the readers wouldn't be able to stand it!)

Ron ran out of the classroom.

Mission: Impossible.

Destination: Dumbledore.

Hopefully Hermione won't be trampled on, what with all of the clamor, anxiety, and scared feelings.

Hopefully Harry and Ron the Brave will make it to Dumbledore's office before something bad happens.

SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS? That's the lamest action figure phrase I've ever heard!

Okay, okay…how about, "Hopefully Ron the Brave will make it to Dumbledore's office before the gloved hand of Evil strikes?"

Hmm…not bad!

I know. I'm a genius.

Yet you still need Hermione's help on that LATE Potions paper?

Geniuses need a little help now and then!

Weren't you just "Ron the Brave?" Now you're a genius TOO?

It's all the same.

Not really.

Well, in my mind it is.

Whatever. Just focus on getting to Dumbledore, okay?

Hey, there's Harry!

Catch up to him then!

Ron caught up to Harry, who was standing still in front of the statue.

"Whoa. Running is NOT my thing. So…what's the password?" Ron gasped, trying to catch his breath.

"Um…that's what I'm trying to figure out."

Ron swore. "We can't get past a stupid statue because we don't have the IDIOTICIST password?" Ron kicked the statue. "Dammit!"

Suddenly the statue came to life, springing to the side to reveal a stairway.

"Bravo, Ron!" Harry said.

I told you I was a genius.

Yeah, yeah.

Cautiously traversing the stairs, they found Dumbledore in a heated discussion with Fudge.

"You can't do this, Dumbledore! You need my help here at the school! All of the things that have occurred in the last few years…"

Dumbledore's eyes were flashing.

"The Ministry CAN NOT interfere with Hogwarts! Everything that has happened has resolved itself!"

"But that will not continue forever! Someone WILL eventually get hurt! And you are not to tell me, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, that I can not become involved in this school!"

Dumbledore stood fuming there, his anger abating slowly.

"I would reply to that, Minister," Dumbledore said evenly, "but more pressing issues are at hand. We will continue this discussion another day; I must now attend to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley."

Fudge looked around at Harry's name, saw the two boys, and walked haughtily from the office.

Looking kinder now, Dumbledore addressed them. "What is it?"

"Well sir—"

"It's just that—"

Ron and Harry started at the same time.

"You go," Harry said to Ron.

So Ron told Dumbledore what had happened.

Dumbledore immediately rose from his cushioned seat and walked briskly out of his office. Ron and Harry followed.

"What class was this, you say? Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yes, sir."

Upon arriving at the still panicking classroom, Dumbledore set off a few noisy (okay, ear-drum popping) firecrackers. Immediately the class was silent.

"Students! Please be quiet."

Everyone heard. Everyone obeyed.

Whoa. Silent.

Dumbledore began inspecting Hermione, looking at her face and checking her pulse. Or perhaps he wasn't checking her pulse, but he was still feeling her arm.

See! He's checking her pulse!

Your point?

Um…no point. Just felt like saying that.

Okay…

So…what do you think about this hectic day?

Huh?

Falling in love, your love fainting…

Well, I got to be an action hero.

Okay, that just proves that you're related to your dad.

He's my dad. He's called my dad because WE'RE RELATED!

Oh. Right.