So, to say that this is an unexpected pairing would be an understatement. I mean, no one else has written anything about it, (couldn't possible image why not (winks)) but I've personally wanted to read/write something with these two together… mainly because I believe it'd be funny as heck!

So anyway, my friend and I decided we would do a joint story. I'll write a chapter, she'll write one, adding off of mine, then me again, then her, and so on. (p.s. each chap we'll tell you who's who. This first one is me, kohl.)

Obviously we don't own it. If I did, Harry wouldn't be going after some… well, I'm just not going to tell you who he MIGHT be paired with in this fic! (I'm just evil that way!) No, him and Hermione would have been together AGES ago. (DOWN WITH GINNY! (evil glares))

Oh, and if I owned Harry Potter, I'd have written myself into the books as well. That way, I could portray myself in the movies and be able to jump and/or be jumped by Harry (and Dan Radcliffe, cause he plays Harry) in every other scene of the movie. Trust me, if I wrote myself into the series, that's what myself and Harry would be doing after every scene! (sighs dreamily) If only, right?...

Well, here goes nothing.

(btw, this is set during Harry's seventh year. Yes, he returned to Hogwarts, but you'll figure out why later.

Oh, and italics mean thoughts.)

Harry Potter swiftly made his way away from the decrepit girls' lavatory with a substantial-sized grin on his face. A chill still ran down his spine, arms, and legs. It'd been quite a few years since that particular bathroom had seen much action (let alone the kind that it had been witness to that night).

Five years to be exact, if Harry had counted correctly.

Oh, yes, he mused. The Polyjuice potion, I remember it well. What a horrid time that had been. Well, at least some good things came of it...

A wry smile crept onto Harry's face as he climbed through the portrait hole, the night's earlier escapades replaying in his mind for about the thousandth time. His smile only widened as he sat in the armchair nearest to him. With little difficulty, he got comfortable before slumping even lower into the chair until he was nearly lying. Soon, his eyes glazed over, a lopsided grin just below them.

Man, I'm happy! Mental giggle. I actually can't remember the last time I've had such a great time! I know it hasn't been in a long time though! Great, I'm babbling!

Harry sighed, contentedly. Tonight was all just so… perfect. Unexpected and weird, yes… and almost…What's the word?... unnatural?… but good… I really do just love being with-

"Hiya, Harry!"

Harry winced; He loved his best mate, really he did, but Ron Weasley's voice had grated through his euphoric reminiscence, the mental picture he'd been painting quickly washed away.

"Helloooo? Hogwarts to Harry!"

Perhaps he'll go away if I ignore him. Deciding it would be the best course of action, Harry closed his eyes and feigned sleep. Go away so I can dream about-

Much to Harry's chagrin, Ron persisted, "Come in, Harry! Can you read me? Hellooo!"

"What, Ron!" Harry snarled. Such sudden anger felt shocking to him after the happiness he'd been feeling from previously that night. Glancing in the red-head's direction, Harry immediately felt sorry for snapping at him.

What a great best mate I turned out to be, Harry chastised himself. He sighed again sullenly.

"I'm sorry, Ron," he amended. "What did you need?"

Instantly, Ron's expression changed from upset to perky once more.

"Where have you been, Harry? Hmm…?" Though Ron sounded innocent enough, Harry panicked none-the-less. Does he know?

"Just took a stroll about the grounds after a little studying in the library." Harry was actually amazed by his ability to be cool under pressure. Wow, I'm a pretty good actor. I must remember to mention that the next time I talk with-

"Alone?" Ron queried as he picked at a thread on his hand-me-down robes. Harry was definitely nervous now.

"W-why do you ask?" Harry choked out. Damn! What happened to my lovely acting skills?

Agonizing minutes passed as Ron slowly pulled the thread from his sleeve. Harry's leg bobbed up and down; a nervous habit he never knew he had. The thread finally free, Ron tied it one tiny knot, then another, and another. Harry thought he would go mad with anticipation.

"Ron!"

Ron looked up with amazingly slow speed, as if he mourned drawing his attention away from the string that was now unrecognizable as one.

"Yeeesss?" He drew out the word nearly as long as he had in looking up.

"Why. Do. You. Ask?" Harry repeated, his voice now firm, Ron's resistance starting to grate on his nerves. He's doing this on purpose! Harry concluded. Bloody good best mate he turned out to be!

Ron flicked the giant knot and smiled when it landed in his sister's hair.

"Score one for Weasley number six!" he cheered quietly so as not to alert his sister to his success.

Still unnerved, Harry calmed a bit. At least now he doesn't have a distraction as great as the 'mighty piece of string'.

Patiently, Harry waited for his friend to speak first.

Moments passed. His patience almost worn away, Harry opened his mouth, but instead let it drop, gaping.

Ron had moved to a new task: digging the dirt out from under his fingernails. Harry nearly sweat-dropped like the anime characters he had seen once when Dudley had left the telly unattended.

He can't be serious! Harry gawked. But somehow he knew it had to be true. He could practically hear the happy little tune humming away in Ron's head, completely oblivious to his friend's agony beside him.

"RON!" Harry just about screamed. He was getting desperate. Perhaps Ron could hear it, too, because he finally tore his gaze away from his nails and looked to Harry with a sly smile on his face.

"You were with Hermione, weren't you?" Harry looked at Ron as if he'd just sprouted a Hungarian Horntail from his forehead.

"It's alright, mate!" Ron continued, somehow taking Harry's shocked expression as conformation of his suspicions. "I'm fine with it, honest! I'm actually relieved. I've kind of taken a fancy to Luna, but gods help me, Harry, if you tell her that."

To enforce his mild threat, Ron brandished a fist in Harry's face. "Anyway, I'm happy for you guys. You deserve each other, and it's about damn time, mate!"

Harry's eyes widened throughout Ron's noble speech, his mouth forming a giant 'O' shape, until he started to resemble a fish out-of-water. Ron's resolve faltered a bit. He suddenly wasn't as sure of his conclusion as he had been minutes ago.

"It is Hermione, right, Harry?" Ron hurried into his reasoning. "I mean, it makes sense: You both disappear around the same times, for the same length of time. You both come back with that dreamy, lovesick look on your face that frankly makes me want to puke sometimes.

"And, well, it's you guys. You're meant to be." Ron's face reddened slightly. Coughing, he continued. "It is Hermione, right?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed, and opened again. What was he supposed to say to something like that? Yes? No? Bloody hell! What do I say, love?

"I-… well-… it's-… you-… we-…" Harry attempted. Was that even English! Think, Harry!

Abruptly, Ron smiled. His eyes shone with… Are those tears! For about a minute, Ron simply stared at Harry, smiling and sniffling, while Harry merely gazed back, confused. Why is he smiling? It's a little unnerving.

Suddenly, Ron shot up. Harry let out a yelp in alarm and surprise but was cut off as Ron pulled him into a back-breaking embrace. Barely audible, Ron whispered in Harry's ear,

"It is Hermione."

With those final words, Ron released Harry and shot up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, presumably to ready for bed, but would almost certainly end up gossiping with the other seventh-year boys.

Staring after him, Harry was left in a daze. He might as well have kissed me while he was at it! Suddenly, rethinking that idea once the image fully formed in his mind, Harry started his way to bed, following Ron's path, albeit at a much slower pace.

As he approached the door, Harry could hear the mutterings of the four other boys within and as he opened the door, their silence told him exactly what they had been talking about.

Slowly, Harry walked to his bed, avoiding eye-contact with Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Dean. He quietly dressed for the night, slipping on blue flannel pants and a grey shirt, and finally slipping into bed. Drawing the bed curtains around him, the sound nearly deafened Harry in the silence.

Finally, the drapes were shut and Harry let out a breath he wasn't even aware of holding.

"Crap," he muttered when, finally, the weight of their gazes lifted off him. Slowly, the sounds of deeper breathing and soft snores filled the room.

To be continued by my fellow author, Seoul (she rocks btw) OH! she told me to tell you something: REVIEWS KEEP US ALIVESES! (well, not in so many words but i paraphrased.)