A/N: After months and months of not righting fanfiction, I'm back! I am starting up again with Shade. As I have no free time (that's why I wasn't writing), don't expect me to be able to update all the time. I hate homework. Anyway, I am in the process of writing Chapter Two, the beginning of which had been lying lonely in my "Writing" folder. I took pity on the poor thing. Golden Zephyr is in the need of some character development so that's on hold for a spell. Anyway, I apologise for being evil and not writing, and it makes me feel good to know that people actually cared (thnx reviewers!) Well, I must return to my writing.

Love, Peace, & All That Jazz,

Laurel Kingsley

Disclaimer: Actually, I am J.K. Rowling. I'm just spending my spare time writing fanfiction while I should be working on the 7th book. Just kidding to the idiots who believed me. And I'm sorry I called you an idiot. It wasn't me…it was…him! Over there points to imaginary person only she can see! Ha ha. Anyway, just in case you didn't notice, Harry Potter isn't my property, nor is he my devoted sex slave (I wish…not really by the way). I'll shut up now.

Yes! The people love me! I love reviews! I shall ask for some for Christmas. "Dear Santa, I'd like some reviews for Christmas." Anyway… thank you to reviewers! I love you! And I shall thank you publicly! (That Kingsley is getting cocky now…see what reviews do to her? She's hooked now, and it's all your fault.)

Everhart13: thank you! See, I'm updating!

Blue Rose of The Forgotten: I love your pen name! So cool. Weird dream… I wish my dreams were that exciting. The most interesting dream I've had lately was that I woke up and ate a piece of toast. Just gives you the shivers doesn't it sarcasm ?

summerxkiss2: thank you! And thanks for reviewing Golden Zephyr too!

bloomsgurl922: thank you! I'm honored that you added it to your faves. Seriously.

Onward!

Chapter2--Funny Feeling

"Ron! Wake up! Ro-on!" an agitated, but slightly warm voice cut through the youngest Weasley boy's latest fantasy. He had been having a lovely dream in which the Chudley Canons were on their knees begging him to join their team, after their keeper had suffered a tragic freak "accident." And now, some dung-head was interrupting it with her harsh yelling. He grunted. Their captain was weeping now, as dream-Ron held an expression of skeptical contemplation and said, "I dunno if the Canons are good enough for the great Ron Weasley, I'll have to think abou–"

"For god's sake Ron! Wake up! You're going to be late for breakfast!" Hermione shouted. She shook him mercilessly.

Ron's eyes burst open. He had fallen asleep on his potions essay, a spot of drool was on his conclusion, blurring the word and. The fire in the common room had long since been burnt down to the occasional scorching ember that skipped among the logs. Ron stared at the fireplace as it swam in and out focus, attempting to wake up. He then glanced up to see Hermione hanging over him ominously, her eyes level with his. He shrank away from her scolding gaze.

"Mornin' 'Mione," He yawned groggily. She continued to stare at him as her gaze turned more and more sour. "Wha'? Wassamatter?" Ron's English was slowly degrading. He looked over at her slender arm and the pearly skin that was peaking through. Then he noticed that her left hand and its fingers like a pianist were still clutching his right shoulder. His ears turned an abysmal shade of scarlet as he turned his mop of red hair away. Hermione took no notice.

"Wassamatter?'" She mocked, "Honestly Ron," she stalked off, muttering things that sounded suspiciously insulting under her breath. Ron sighed, got up (still wearing his crumpled robes from yesterday), and lurched down to breakfast.

ooo

Ron was one of the last down to breakfast and he slid in between Harry and Neville. When he passed her by, Hermione had blocked the available seat next to her. And once again Ron sighed. Fred and George had never had this trouble with girls. They were funny and charismatic; Ron had never known any woman to stay angry with them for extended periods of time. Except perhaps his mum and Hermione, but they were different. His ginger hair dangled in front of his eyes as he glowered at his breakfast, staring fixedly at a speck of pepper on his hash browns.

"Ron, hello-o… Ron!" A voice snapped. Ron awoke from his trance, pushed his eggs around with his fork, and sighed. He had been doing a lot of that today, sighing that is.

"Ron." A muscled fist socked his shoulder. Ron glanced up and saw Harry staring quizzically at him. " What up, mate? Is this about Hermi–" The rest of the sentence became muffled by Ron's hand.

"She's…sitting…right…there!" Ron hissed, his eyes glinting as he looked around suspiciously."

"Well, 'Mad-Eye Moody,' she can't hear me." Harry grinned. Ron's face twisted into something that resembled a smile.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Ron barked with mock seriousness, doing a flawless interpretation of Moody's Imposter in their Fourth Year. The people around them jumped back, startled, but soon erupted in laughter.

ooo

The day passed by at a strange pace. Charms flashed by at a speed comparable to Hermione running to make it on time that day. The bushy haired wonder was speaking to Ron again, but she seemed oddly distant. As usual, History of Magic inched by at an incredibly sluggish rate. Harry remarked to Ron, as they flicked bits of parchment into Elana Shepard's puffy locks, that if time had been racing with a snail, the snail would have won hands down. Even Hermione had lost track of monotonous lecture when Professor Binns had reached a particularly dull part discussing Sir Rupert Finkle, a dreadful necromancer with frighteningly long nose hairs. She gazed longingly out of the window, golden sunlight dying her hair a brilliant hue of gold, lost in thought. Ron stole inquisitive glances at her eyes, amber in the sunlight, as her lids grew steadily heavier and heavier, weighed down by long lashes and daydreams.

She was outside in the balmy autumn air that danced on her fair, freckled skin and gently tousled her golden, chestnut mane. The immense beech tree she leaned against let in dappled sunlight as she closed her eyes and was suddenly in a damp, dingy hallway. The Oriental rug was rough against her bare feet, and she could see an immense gilded mirror out of the corner of her eye. She heard strained breathing behind her and her heart slammed in her chest for some strange reason. There was something to fear here, but the girl didn't know what. There was a mounting urge to gaze into the gilded mirror, soon it was impossible to resist. Turning slowly she gasped and loosened the tight grip she had on the lily with petals like clean white plaster in her hand. Her eyes burst open and she sat up rapidly, her cheeks flushed. Her breath was heavy and icy cold. There was a strange fluttering in her heart. Ron Weasley was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his slender, freckled face. Their gazes connected for a moment and Ron's clear, blue eyes snapped away, Hermione's still lingering. She stuffed the curious dream into the closet of discarded thoughts in the depths of her mind. She just wished the one boy that was different had kept her gaze.

A/N: Well, I know that was a short one. I hate short chapters. I would write more but that was the best place for me to stop at to prove I am writing. Just one extra thanks to Strider405 who is an awesome friend and writer (if only she would hurry up and post!), and needs a spell check. Not really. Thank you for reviewing. Well, I will definitely post soon because…… It's a five-day weekend! Woohoo! Except I have loads of homework to do. Like four paintings, an essay and MORE! Not that you care. Anyway, as always review! And make sure I'm a good girl and update regularly! And 10 brownie points to whoever can guess what country I live in! (Strider405 does not count)

Laters,

L. Kingsley