As I am still in the very early chapters of this little story of mine, I hesitate to begin my thorough discussion of one Ronald Weasley. Rest assured, there will be many, many discussions to come. So for now, I shall keep it quite simple.

Ron was my best friend. But you already knew that. Ron and I...we shared something so incredibly strong. I couldn't say it was stronger than what Harry and I shared. It was just...different. Because we were the friends of the Boy-Who-Lived. And we were there. We were there by his side every step of the way. Sure, once in a while, one of us would fall behind, one of us would lose track. And sure...it was usually Ron. But we always found our way.

So you can go on and point your fingers at him. I know I did...But let me tell you, Ronald Weasley is the most loyal man I have ever known.

"Wait, so Harry's actually here?" Ginny asked as she and Hermione made their way downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast.

"That's what your mum said," Hermione shrugged. "I guess he arrived pretty late last night."

"Yeah, I guess..." Ginny replied.

"Which means he probably heard you snoring."

"Yeah, pr—wait what?" Ginny said sharply. "I do not snore, thank you very much."

"How would you know? You're asleep when it happens."

Ginny simply threw her a cool look.

"Ah! Good morning you sleepy 'eads!" a chipper voice called as the two girls entered the kitchen.

Ginny stared at Fleur for about three seconds, and then turned to Hermione. "Can I go back upstairs?"

"No."

"Morning," Ron said groggily, appearing in the doorway behind them. All traces of drowsiness seemed to disappear, however, as Fleur took him by the arm and led him to the kitchen table.

"Oh no, she's touched him," Ginny stated quietly so only Hermione could hear. "Now he won't be able to form coherent sentences for about another half hour."

Both girls chuckled softly as they took their seats, earning curious looks from Mrs. Weasley.

Breakfast passed rather uneventfully and even seemed to drag a bit, which was unfortunate seeing as Hermione was quite eager for it to be over. Harry was upstairs and it had been almost a month since she'd last seen him.

Yet, while she was excited to see him again, she was also a bit anxious. Their letters had been scarce and she wasn't entirely sure how he had been coping with Sirius' death. Not to mention the recent news in the papers. All that nonsense about Harry being 'The Chosen One'. Absolute, utter nonsense...

"Ginny, dear, hand me a couple pieces of toast. I'm going to bring up a breakfast tray for Harry. I swear that boy gets thinner and thinner every time I see him," Mrs. Weasley said, piling enough food to feed a family of four.

Ron's fork instantly clattered noisily onto his plate. "Harry? Harry who?"

"Harry Smithers. He's a squib we found in the attic," Ginny replied.

Mrs. Weasley threw Ginny a disapproving look before turning her attention back to Ron. "Harry Potter, dear. He arrived late last night, so I thought I'd let him sleep in."

At once, the legs of Ron's chair squeaked loudly as he hurriedly pushed it back and rushed out of the kitchen, oblivious to Mrs. Weasley's protests.

And without another second's thought, Hermione followed.

"Ron, try not to be too loud. He is still asleep, you know!" Hermione called after him.

Ron ignored her, however, and opened the door with a loud bang that she was fairly sure would give Harry a heart attack.

And sure enough, he instantly sprang into an upright position, looking quite shocked, and shielding his eyes from the sunlight as Ron pulled back the curtains.

"Wuzzgoinon?" Harry asked, groping for his glasses hopelessly with one hand while the other was still covering his eyes.

Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly. He looked so helpless and his hair was sticking out like mad all over the place. And she just found him so completely endearing. How was it that anything he did made him so completely endearing? It was a mystery.

"We didn't know you were here already!" Ron said excitedly, punching Harry playfully on the top of the head.

"Ron, don't hit him!" Hermione said reproachfully.

Harry finally shoved his glasses on, still squinting from the bright light of the sun.

"All right?" Ron asked, grinning down at him.

"Never been better," said Harry, rubbing the top of his head and slumping back onto his pillows. "You?"

As Harry and Ron reacquainted with themselves, Hermione took to scrutinizing Harry.

He seems okay...quite normal actually. And much better than last summer, that's for sure. But maybe he just doesn't want to show us he's hurting...or scared...but why should he be scared? He's not 'The Chosen One', after all. That's all a bunch of rubbish. Isn't it?

How should I know?

Rhetorical question.

It'd better be.

"How're you, Hermione?" Harry asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She suddenly realized that she'd been staring quite intently at Harry, and her cheeks grew warm at the thought. "Oh, I'm fine," she replied.

Harry nodded, looking away from her. "What's the time? Have I missed breakfast?"

"Don't worry about that, Mum's bringing you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "So, what's been going on?"

Hermione threw a warning glance to Ron. It was Harry's first day here, and she didn't think it was best to push him into explaining anything just yet.

"Nothing much, I've just been stuck at my aunt and uncle's, haven't I?"

"Come off it!" said Ron. "You've been off with Dumbledore!"

"It wasn't that exciting. He just wanted me to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn."

"Oh," said Ron, looking disappointed. "We thought—"

Hermione threw Ron another severe look and he changed tack at top speed.

"—we thought it'd be something like that."

She groaned internally.

"You did?" said Harry, looking amused.

"Yeah...yeah, now Umbridge has left, obviously we need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't we? So, er, what's he like?" Ron said, attempting to dig himself out of his hole.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder at Harry's behaviour. He seemed so...normal. Maybe the papers really were printing rubbish articles. Maybe she and Ron were worrying for nothing. Maybe Harry wasn't the Chosen One...

"He looks a bit like a walrus, and he used to be head of Slytherin," said Harry. "Something wrong, Hermione?"

Once again, Hermione was shaken out of her thoughts. And once again, Harry had caught her intently staring at him.

"No, of course not! So, um, did Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?" she asked, rearranging her features hastily into what she was sure was an unconvincing smile.

That's twice you've embarrassed yourself in his company and it's only been ten minutes. Get your act together, Hermione! What's the matter with you?

Well, it's not as if I'm gawking at him for my own personal pleasure. I just want to know that he's okay!

So then wait for him to tell you that he's okay.

Maybe I don't want to wait.

Maybe you just want to stare at him.

Is it my fault that I haven't seen him for a month?

Don't be dramatic. It's been only been three weeks.

Three and half.

Stop.

"I know someone who's worse than Umbridge," said a voice from the doorway. Ginny slouched into the room, looking irritable. "Hi, Harry."

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

"It's her," said Ginny, plonking herself down on Harry's bed. "She's driving me mad."

Hermione sighed. "What's she done now?"

"It's the way she talks to me—you'd think I was about three!"

"I know," said Hermione, dropping her voice. "She's so full of herself."

"Can't you two lay off her for five seconds?" Ron said angrily.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, that's right, defend her," snapped Ginny. "We all know you can't get enough of her."

There was a very confused expression plastered on Harry's face and just as Hermione was about to explain, Fleur walked into the room.

"'Arry," she said in a throaty voice. "Eet 'as been too long!"

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a similar look of disgust which only intensified as Fleur swooped down to kiss Harry on each cheek. And as if it couldn't get any worse, a definite blush seemed to appear instantly on Harry's face.

Hermione felt a sort of heat in the pit of her stomach that quickly travelled up her chest. It was quite unnerving actually, this feeling. She spent all last year seeing Harry with Cho, yet never once did she feel such intense jealousy. It seemed like the more time that passed, the stronger her feelings became.

And she just hated that Fleur could make him blush. Why couldn't she make him blush?

Because you're not part-Veela, are you?

Why should that matter?

You're not beautiful.

I've got brains. That's enough!

You keep telling yourself that.

NO! Beauty doesn't matter. It's what's inside that counts.

What fairytale book did you get that out of?

"Don't you get used to her if she's staying in the same house?" Harry asked Ron, who was looking at the doorway through which Fleur had just left with a slightly dazed expression.

Hermione scoffed quite loudly.

"Well, you do," said Ron, "but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then..."

"It's pathetic," said Hermione furiously, folding her arms and refusing to look at Harry.

"You don't really want her around forever?" Ginny asked Ron incredulously. When he merely shrugged, she said, "Well, Mum's going to put a stop to it if she can, I bet you anything."

"How's she going to manage that?" asked Harry.

"She keeps trying to get Tonks round for dinner. I think she's hoping Bill will fall for Tonks instead. I hope he does, I'd much rather have her in the family."

"Yeah, that'll work," said Ron sarcastically. "Listen, no bloke in his right mind's going to fancy Tonks when Fleur's around. I mean Tonks is okay-looking when she isn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose, but—"

Hermione really wanted nothing more at the moment than to punch Ron in the face. He was being so shallow it was almost sickening. Surely Harry wasn't that shallow as well?

"She's a damn sight nicer than Phlegm," said Ginny.

"And she's more intelligent, she's an Auror!" Hermione added.

"Fleur's not stupid, she was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament," said Harry.

Hermione felt as if someone had struck her in the stomach. She turned to face Harry with a hard look in her eyes, her arms still firmly crossed. "Not you as well!" she said bitterly.

"I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ''Arry,' do you?" asked Ginny scornfully.

"No," said Harry, sounding a bit flustered. "I was just saying Phlegm—I mean, Fleur—"

"I'd much rather have Tonks in the family," said Ginny with a tone of finality.

It wasn't until the discussion of Fleur had ended and Ginny had left the room that Hermione seemed to regain her bearings. She suddenly felt slightly foolish. Harry and Ron were just teenage boys, after all. Maybe she had overreacted...

Or maybe she hadn't.

The more Hermione thought about it, the more she began to understand just what had bothered her most. It wasn't her jealously, it wasn't her insecurities. It was something more. It was her naivety.

Harry was never simply a teenage boy. In fact, there was nothing simple about him.

But somewhere in her mind, Hermione had simplified him. Somewhere in her mind, she had created an idealistic Harry Potter. A mature young man, a brave hero, a compassionate friend, a perfect gentlemen.

But she'd been naive. He wasn't perfect. He was only human. He was only a teenage boy.

And as Hermione looked up at him, deep in conversation with Ron, his green eyes bright from the sun, she realized how utterly boring an idealistic Harry would be.

Anyway, you need to relax. It's not as if he killed a man. The boy can appreciate a kiss on the cheek from a pretty girl if he wants to. It doesn't make him 'shallow', it makes him human. Stop overanalyzing everything.

For once, I agree with you.

Hermione quickly joined into the conversation after her small epiphany, only to be met with a not so conversational statement.

"Dumbledore's going to be giving me private lessons this year," said Harry.

Ron choked on his bit of toast, and Hermione gasped.

"I think it must be because of the prophecy."

As soon as he said those words, Hermione's heartbeat quickened dangerously. Neither she nor Ron spoke.

"You know, the one they were trying to steal at the Ministry."

"Nobody knows what it said, though. It got smashed," said Hermione quickly, as if presenting enough logic would prove his statement false.

"The glass ball that smashed wasn't the only record of the prophecy. I heard the whole thing in Dumbledore's office. From what it said," Harry took a deep breath in, "it looks like I'm the one who's got to finish off Voldemort...At least, it said neither of us could live while the other survives."

The three of them gazed at one another in silence for a moment. Hermione could feel her insides squirming with a mixture of fear, anxiety, and nerves.

This was all too much. Why Harry? Why was it always Harry? Hadn't he been through enough?

She stared at him, then whispered, "Are you scared?"

"Not as much as I was," said Harry. "When I first heard it, I was...but now, it seems as though I always knew I'd have to face him in the end..."

Hermione quickly pushed her fears aside and switched to business mode. Harry needed her, and she would be there.

"...Dumbledore wouldn't be giving you lessons if he thought you were a goner, wouldn't waste his time—he must think you've got a chance!"

"That's true," said Hermione, pleasantly surprised by Ron's insight. "Well, at least you know one lesson you'll be having this year, that's one more than Ron and me. I wonder when our O.W.L results will come."

"Hang on," said Harry. "I think Dumbledore said they'd be arriving today!"

"Today?" shrieked Hermione. "Today? But why didn't you—oh my God—you should have said—"

She leapt to her feet instantly, her heart pounding hard in her ears and her throat going uncomfortably dry.

Relax, just relax. Breathe. You've got this, Hermione. You have got this!

Who am I kidding...I haven't got anything...I've failed everything...I know I have...

"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione all but shouted as she raced into the kitchen.

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, a hand placed over her heart in shock. "What is it, dear?"

"Have any owls arrived this morning?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Are you expecting anything?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Yes, actually. According to Harry, our O.W.L results are supposed to be arriving today," Hermione replied, her voice slightly higher than usual.

"What do you need them for?" asked Ginny who had just entered the kitchen, followed by Ron. "It's obvious you've gotten eleven O's."

"Don't talk like that, Ginny. This is no laughing matter!" Hermione stated briskly.

"Who said I was laughing?" Ginny replied quietly.

When at last three owls appeared outside the window, Hermione was quite positive her heart had stopped.

She opened her envelope with shaking hands, trying her best not to hyperventilate. Out of the corner of her eye she saw both Harry and Ron unfolding their letters.

Here goes...

As she unfolded her own letter, her eyes seemed to instantly gravitate towards the blaring letter 'E' right in the middle of the parchment. Only afterwards did she notice the lovely round O's surrounding it.

A part of her rejoiced. A large part. But then another tiny part was also slightly disappointed. It would have been nice to have gotten eleven Outstandings...

Oh, get over yourself. You're not perfect, you know!

Yeah...nobody is...I guess I keep realizing that today.

"No."

"Oh, come on!"

"Nope."

"Please!"

"I won't do it."

"Hermione."

"I could die!"

Harry, Ron, and Ginny stared at her with identical looks of exasperation. They were attempting to force her (to no avail) to play two-a-side Quidditch with them, and she simply would not have any of it.

"Well, I could!" she argued.

"Hermione, I promise I won't let anything happen to you," Harry said, looking her straight in the eyes with such an intense stare that she could feel her body temperature rising tremendously.

How can you say no to that face?

Easy, like this:

"N—"

"Please, Hermione, just one little game," Harry practically begged, looking much too cute for his own good.

"FINE!"

"Yes!" they cried in unison.

"But if you start yelling at me again like you did that one time because I missed all those goals, then I'm out!" Hermione stated, crossing her arms in a huff.

Harry looked like he was having some sort of inner conflict.

"Well?" she prodded, her arms still crossed.

He sighed. "I promise I will do no such thing."

"That's all I ask," Hermione smiled as she mounted her broom.

"Are you two ladies ready?" called Ron from the air, earning a fist to the stomach from Ginny.

"Quite!" Hermione replied pleasantly.

And they were off.

This was the second time this summer that Hermione had agreed to play Quidditch and already she was regretting it. She simply was not built to fly on a broomstick. Any time she would go for a save, she felt like she was risking her life.

"70-30!" Ron called out as Ginny scored yet another goal.

Hermione glanced over at Harry timidly. He looked as if he was trying his best to maintain his composure.

"Just...try better next time, yeah?" Harry said, taking the Quaffle from her.

"I will!" she replied earnestly.

And all too soon, Ginny was once again rushing towards their end of the pitch.

"Come on, Hermione!" she heard Harry yell out to her. "You can do it! Keep your eye on the Quaffle!"

Eye on the Quaffle...eye on the Quaffle. You've got this!

Hermione looked down at her hands in shock. The red makeshift Quaffle had somehow managed to find its way into them.

"That's it, Hermione! Nice job!" Harry cried, flying towards her at full speed.

Hermione screamed, certain she was about to be pummelled to her death. However, Harry came to a graceful halt right next to her just in time.

And before she could even register what had happened, he pulled her into a hug.

"I told you, you could do it," Harry said, letting go and throwing her a cheeky grin.

"Yeah," Hermione replied breathlessly. "Yeah..."

Harry laughed. "Quidditch has made you speechless. Who would have thought?"

"Yeah...Quidditch..." she said, letting out a slightly high-pitched giggle.

Hermione watched as he flew away on his broom to the centre of the pitch. She liked it when he flew. She liked it when he did anything, really. But flying was near the top. So was hugging. Yes, she liked hugging very much.

Regaining some of the brain cells that she seemed to have lost since her embrace with Harry, she managed to save five more goals that match. Unfortunately, none of them were met with the same reward as the first one, but it was still extremely gratifying to have Harry cheer her on.

"Ron, this is the last goal, if you don't bloody save it, I will castrate you!" Ginny shouted as Harry sped towards Ron's end of the pitch. "Oh, for the love of—!"

"WOOO! GO, HARRY!" Hermione cheered from her end as Harry successfully made it past Ron.

"Well, that was quite fun, wasn't it?" Hermione said, as the four of them landed on the ground.

Ginny and Ron simply stared at her while Harry laughed behind them.

It was a hot Sunday afternoon and Hermione and Ron were assigned the not so pleasant chore of cleaning out the chicken coop.

"Who usually does this?" Hermione asked, her nostrils scrunched in disgust.

"Whoever's stupid enough to be in the room at the time," Ron answered. "Otherwise, Mum just uses magic."

"And remind me why she can't use magic now?"

"She likes to give us chores during the summer so we don't grow too lazy," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Lovely," Hermione stated, sweeping chicken droppings off the ground.

They went on working in silence for about another ten minutes, until:

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

He didn't answer right away, but when he did it was in a low voice.

"Are you...well...are you scared?"

She paused for a moment, not looking at him. He didn't have to explain himself; she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Yes," she whispered. "I'm terrified."

Her proclamation was met with more silence.

"Me too," Ron said at last.

"We can't tell him," she said, finally looking up at him.

"What, do you think I'm an idiot? He's got enough on his plate already. He doesn't need to worry about our feelings, as well."

"And we can never leave his side," she added.

"Hermione, I'm not thick."

"And...and we have to support him no matter what!"

"I kn—"

"And we have to help him...we have to protect him...w-we have to...to..." All at once, tears were spilling from Hermione's eyes and a bulge was forming in the back of her throat that was preventing her from speaking.

She felt arms wrap around her almost tentatively and hands patting her gently on the back.

"He'll be okay, Hermione," she heard Ron say quietly.

She looked up into his face, her vision still slightly blurred from the tears. "Promise me something, Ron."

"Sure...anything..."

Hermione swallowed hard, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. "Promise me that you and I will never leave Harry's side. Promise me," she said in a shaking voice.

She looked Ron straight in the eyes. There was something in them that she couldn't quite read. Something she'd never seen before.

"I promise."

And in an instant, that something was gone.

A/N: I'm back! I hope you guys haven't forgotten about this little story of mine. And I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. NOW LISTEN: I want a favour from you all. It would be so extremely helpful to me if you guys could tell me one think you like about this story and one thing you dislike. (or more than one thing if you're an overachiever). Why, you ask? Because I want to constantly improve this story. And I plan on it being pretty long. So, if there's something that just annoys you or that you hate or that you love, then let me know and I can change it or keep it the same! Also the one thing about judging your own work is that it is terribly hard to be objective. I can't read through this fic pretending it's someone else's, so that's why I need you! I would appreciate it immensely. I hope that's not too much to ask. As always, thanks for reading :)

Oh and one more thing. I went back and edited Ch. 20 because frankly, it was atrocious in some parts. It was mostly grammatical and word usage things. HOWEVER, I did edit the 'Memoir' section at the beginning quite a lot. You don't need to really go back and read it, but I'm just letting you know in case you want to. That is all. Good day!