Ron's first year at Hogwarts had been going great so far; he was being treated to feasts every night, he was staying in a magical castle that was always full of surprises, and he was best friends with Harry Potter, who had just been appointed seeker for the Gryffindor team. Even Malfoy's stupid duel couldn't spoil his mood.

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" Harry asked frantically from beside him, continuing their conversation.

"Throw it away and punch him in the nose," Ron suggested quite seriously.

"Excuse me."

They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger. That unfamiliar sensation entered Ron's stomach again and, unable to detect what it was, he rolled his eyes and turned back to his food.

"Can't a person eat in this place?" said Ron grumpily.

But Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry instead. This annoyed Ron, and suddenly that funny feeling was replaced with one of unfounded anger.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered, even though he knew that she was sitting kitty-corner from them and no other conversations to distract her from theirs.

"—and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron, standing up and walking away. As he looked back at where they left her standing there, he wondered if maybe he had been a bit too harsh, but once she folded her arms and stomped away with the slightest glare in their direction, he felt justified.

Eleven o' clock found Ron in common room, giving every bit of advice he could think of to Harry, such as "If he tries to curse you, you'd better dodge it, because I don't remember how to block them." He knew that there was a very good chance that they would get caught, Filch and Mrs. Norris were always roaming around somewhere, but Harry was determined to show up Malfoy and Ron, well, Ron was determined to show up Hermione. Of course, he'd like to help curse Malfoy too, but what was really fueling his fire was what Hermione said to them earlier. If he played it safe and stayed in the dormitory then she would win, and there was no was Ron Weasley was about to let Hermione Granger win.

"Half-past eleven," Ron muttered at last, "we'd better go."

They pulled on their bathrobes, picked up their wands, and crept across the tower room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched, black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"You!" said Ron furiously; why did she always talk to Harry? Why didn't she ever confront him? "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, unknowingly answering Ron's silent request, "Percy—he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

For a second, the two glared at each other. She had finally given him her attention, but it only seized Ron with an even stronger desire to go against her.

"Come on," Harry said to his left, and Ron broke himself away from wondering exactly what it was about her that made him dislike her so much, and followed Harry through the portrait hole. But before he was all the way through he noticed Hermione following him. He rolled his eyes; this was going to be a long night.