1Harry was walking down the corridor towards the boys' dormitory, he was very pleased with himself because he had just taught Ginny Weasley how to flare her boogery red-haired nostrils. He was at the bottom of the stairs when he heard a squeak. Curiously he followed the continuing echos of these squeaks.
Finally after wandering aimlessly around many halls, Harry found what was conjuring the noise. Harry peered around the corner of an empty classroom, and what he saw bewitched, bothered and bewildered him. Ronald Weasley was moaning as he was making out with a picture of Hermione.
Harry was taking aback, lucky for him, at the time that he witnessed this occurrence he happened to be wearing a pull-up, so no one saw that Harry had let out a little trickle. It was actually Hermione's idea when she found out Harry's little problem, o boy did it come in handy, especially when it came to the matter of his best friends love life.
After Harry had gotten ahold of himself, his emotions, and his minimized bladder, he walked up to Ronald. Ron, deep in concentration did not notice Harry had arrived at the site of love. So Harry went up to Ron and godsmacked his white ass.
In a sudden fit of confusion, Ron dashed under the bed. He was partly confizzled of where Harry had come from, and because his bra had just snapped. But...this bra was not any bra, it was Hermione's bra. He had paid Ginny and extravagant amount of cash on the spot to steal this bra from Hermione in the dead of the night. Ever since this occasion he hasn't taken it off, not even in the shower.
"Ronald Weasley, wtf I thought we had a signed agreement when it came to matters of the heart, a.k.a. your bubbling factor of lust for Hermione McNugget Granger." pushed Harry.
However Harry's words meant nothing, for Ron was fast asleep under the bed. Unfortunate to all within the perimeter of fancies, Ron is not one to silently slumber, for he is a victim of talking in the sleep.
At that precise moment, the red-headed Weasley was singing, a jammin tune. It went a little something like this: I'm in luv wit Hermione in the tune of "im in luv wit a stripper twitch twitch and I'm so sick of singlocity in the tune of "so sick"twitch twitch Tryina catch me ridin' Hermione((to the tune of " Ridin' Dirty)) twitch twitch A Hotter touch, a better fuck /In the tune of " Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off"/
Harry turns and leaves, he is embarrassed that Ronald was his friend, and the fact that Ginny, hours how to flare her nostrils, could flare hers better than he could flare his.
Ronald wakes up hours later in a sudden fit of rage. All of these dreams, all of these feelings they were all becoming as clear as the crisp morning sunlight on a winter day, through the wings of a brunette headed angel who happened to be sitting in a corner of Starbucks, chatting merrily with the lord Jesus Christ, a.k.a. Slabin. Ron realized now that he must tell Hermione of his feelings for her body, also he was warm for her form, he was a bee and she was a flower, and boy was he thirsty for some nectar, she was quite the hottie with the body, he had the hots for her tots if you will, and most of all, Ron admired her big toe on her right foot, named pat.
Ron soon feel into a mystical thought. As he was in the mists of the wild daydream involving Hermione holding a plate of sausage, he accidently sneezed and started blowing snot bubbles of a variety of colors. On each snot bubble just before it popped Ron got a glimpse into the life of Hermione. Into her thoughts, her dreams, her actions, her digestive system, it was all clear, Ron needed to tell Hermione about his burning passion for her.
Little did he know that Hermione was having thoughts in a synonym fashion.