This chapter will have a few snippets from my 20 Days Of Romione Challenge in it. Because I don't care what Hermione says. Ron's emotional range is way bigger than a freaking teaspoon.

Chapter 140: Range Of Emotions

December arrived, bringing with it more snow and a shitload more of homework for us fifth-years. Hermione and my prefect duties also became more and more numerous as Christmas approached. We had to supervise the decoration of the castle ('You try putting up tinsel when Peeves has got the other end and is trying to strangle you with it," I groaned one day at Harry, when I had returned to the tower looking like a fucking Christmas tree), to watch over first- and second-years spending their break-times inside because of the bitter cold ("And they're cheeky little toshpots, you know, we definitely weren't that rude when we were in first year," I told Harry one day when I had to get onto one of them for trying to light something on fire with muggle matches) and to patrol the corridors in shifts with Filch, who suspected that the holiday spirit might show itself in an outbreak of wizard duels ("He's got dung for brains, that one," I said furiously to Harry on another day, when Filch had us patrolling from dinner to fucking past midnight). We were so busy that Hermione had even stopped knitting elf hats and was panicking when she was down to her last three.

"All those poor elves I haven't set free yet, having to stay here over Christmas because there aren't enough hats!"

Holidays were quickly approaching, and the majority of the D.A. were going home for it. Hermione was going to do this muggle thing called 'skying'. It sounded like the most barmiest thing in the world when she told me about it. She was going to be strapping narrow strips of wood on to her feet to slide down mountains. It sounded dangerous, but fascinating, and I found myself wanting to be able to go with her, just to see what it was like.

I was going home to The Burrow. Harry looked as if he was angry about it until I told him: "But you're coming too! Didn't I say? Mum wrote and told me to invite you weeks ago!"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry looked very much pleased. He had never spent Christmas in my home before.

On the last day of D.A meetings before the holidays,everyone gathered, eager to see what we would be doing. Harry had looked a bit glum when Hermione and I had stepped into the room. We figured he would just tell us later.

"OK," he said, calling us all to order. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break-"

"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Fucking Smith, in a disgruntled whisper loud enough to carry through the room. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," said Fred loudly.

"Yeah. It would have saved us the trouble of enduring your ugly mug," I muttered, earning a playful pinch from Hermione.

"-we can practice in pairs," continued Harry. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

Everyone divided up with Harry partnering with Neville, and I with Hermione as usual. The room was soon full of cries of "Impedimenta!" People froze for a minute or so, during which their partner would stare aimlessly around the room watching other pairs at work, then would unfreeze and take their turn at the jinx.

I had been practicing off and on with objects in my dorm, so I managed to best Hermione five times, something that she seemed to be both impressed and annoyed at the same time about. Though she always gave credit when it was due, Hermione hated to be bested at something, a fact that I enjoyed rubbing in her face just to see that cute angry look she would give me. As Harry made his rounds, Neville joined us and shown great improvement as well. He was beaming by the time we were done and laid out cushions all over the floor to practice Stunning again. Space was really too confined to allow them all to work this spell at once; half the group observed the others for a while, then swapped over.

At the end of an hour, Harry called a halt.

"You're getting really good," he said, beaming around at us. "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff-maybe even Patronuses."

There was a murmur of excitement. The room began to clear in the usual twos and threes; most people wished Harry a 'Happy Christmas' as they went. We cheerfully collected the cushions. Harry spied Cho looking at the mirror in which we had hung articles and pictures, so Hermione pulled me along, thinking it was best to leave Harry and Cho alone.

"Brilliant lesson it was," I said as we walked back towards the tower. "I think I almost have this Stunning thing down to a science."

"Neville too," said Hermione, eagerly. "Did you see him Stun Padma? I mean I know he was supposed to have Stunned Dean, but he did do a great job."

"Yeah, I think he is starting to get on your level, Mione. You may have some competition soon," I joked.

"That's not funny," said Hermione with a smile. "So, are you excited to be going home for once for Christmas?"

"Very," I said as we walked down a flight of steps. "I think it will be fun for Harry too. He's never had a Burrow Chris as before."

"Are Burrow Christmases different than other people's?"

"It is to me I guess. We have our own little traditions and such, and Mum makes these amazing miniature pies, and fudge that simply melts in your mouth, and we have these absolutely brilliant snowball fights, and we even catch a genome and make it our tree topper and-,oh don't give me that look, they actually enjoy sneering and pelting ornaments at us." I laughed, looking at the look of unease on Hermione's face.

"Well besides the gnome thing, it sounds absolutely lovely," said Hermione, as we approached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "I wish I could experience it one day."

I started to get a bit nervous, but I pushed it to the side. "Well, if you're not doing anything with your parents next holidays, you're more than welcome to come," I said in a low voice. "Mum wouldn't mind it at all, and I'm sure Ginny would flip at having you around to keep her company."

"Silver bells" said Hermione, giving the Fat Lady the password. She swung open and we climbed through and walked into the common room, sitting on the couches in front of the fire.

"What about you?" she said in a small voice.

"What about me what?"

"Would you...flip at having me there?"

"Having both my best mates spending the holidays with me? Of course I would," I exclaimed happily.

"Oh," said Hermione, looking at the fire. I felt as if I had said the wrong thing without knowing it.

"But with you there, I'd flip twice," I said, trying to make her smile. It was successful because she looked at me with a proud grin on her face.

"I'm going up to the dorm for a second," she said, getting up and heading to the girls dorms.

I figured I would start on some homework, so I went up to my own down and got my Transfiguration homework. I wasn't planning on doing shit but lounging around during my holiday, so I needed to get this work done quickly.

I came back down around the same time as Hermione, my Transfiguration book, parchment, a quill, and some ink in hand. Hermione too had a quill, ink, and parchment, but no book, which seemed somewhat odd.

Hermione sat at the table and began to write whatever it was that she was writing, while I laid out on the hearthrug in front of the fire. By the time Harry returned thirty minutes later, Hermione was already on her second roll.

"What kept you?" I asked, as Harry sank into the armchair next to Hermione's.

Harry didn't answer. He looked as if he were in a state of shock.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked, peering at him over the tip of her quill.

Harry gave a half-hearted shrug. He had 'secret' written all over his face.

"What's up?" I said, hoisting myself up on my elbow to get a clearer view of him. "What's happened?"

Harry just sat there looking completely dumbstruck. Hermione gave me a knowing look.

"Is it Cho?" she asked in a businesslike way. "Did she corner you after the meeting?"

Harry nodded. I snickered, breaking off when Hermione caught my eye and gave me a look that told me not to.

"So-er-what did she want?" I asked in a mock casual voice.

"She-" Harry began, rather hoarsely, he cleared his throat and tried again. "She-er-"

"Did you kiss?" asked Hermione excitedly.

I sat up so fast, I sent my ink bottle flying all over the rug. Disregarding this completely, I stared at Harry.

"Well?" I demanded.

Harry looked from me to Hermione, then nodded.

"HA!" I shouted, making a triumphant gesture with my fist and laughing so hard, that it made several timid-looking second-years over beside the window jump.

"Well?" I said after I recovered from my laughing fit. "How was it?"

Harry looked as if he was searching for the right word.

"Wet," he said finally.

"Huh?"

"Because she was crying,"Harry continued.

"Oh," I said, enthusiasm leaving slightly. "Are you that bad at kissing or some shit?"

"Dunno," said Harry, suddenly looking slightly put out. "Maybe I am."

"Of course you're not," said Hermione absently, still scribbling away at her letter.

"How do you know?" I said quicker than I had wanted to.

"Because Cho spends half her time crying these days," said Hermione vaguely. "She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place."

"You'd think a bit of kissing would cheer her up," I said, grinning.

"Ron," said Hermione in a dignified voice, dipping the point of her quill into her inkpot, 'you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I said, feeling very much offended. "What sort of person cries while someone's kissing them?"

"Yeah," said Harry, sounding slightly desperate, "who does?"

Hermione looked at the pair of us as if we should have already known what she meant.

"Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?" she asked.

"No," said Harry and I together.

Hermione sighed and laid down her quill.

"Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings towards Harry are, anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly."

Harry and I gave Hermione vacant stares as she went on with her speech.

"One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode." I said, without even thinking.

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily, picking up her quill again.

I suddenly felt even more offended than when she called me an insensitive wart.

"She was the one who started it," said Harry. "I wouldn't've-she just sort of came at me-and next thing she's crying all over me-I didn't know what to do-"

"Don't blame you, mate," I said, still trying to recover from Hermione's words.

"You just had to be nice to her," said Hermione, looking up anxiously. "You were, weren't you?"

"Well," said Harry. "I sort of-patted her on the back a bit."

Hermione looked as though she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty.

"Well, I suppose it could have been worse," she said. "Are you going to see her again?"

"I'll have to, won't I?" said Harry. "We've got DA meetings, haven't we?"

"You know what I mean," said Hermione impatiently.

Harry looked as if he was holding in pain from a stomachache.

"Oh well," said Hermione, going back to her letter, "you'll have plenty of opportunities to ask her."

"What if he doesn't want to ask her?" I said.

"Don't be silly," said Hermione vaguely, "Harry's liked her for ages, haven't you, Harry?"

Harry simply shrugged, looking as if he didn't want to answer the question.

"Who're you writing that novel to, anyway?" I asked Hermione, trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor. Hermione hitched it up out of sight.

"Viktor." she said plainly, as if she was saying what her favorite color was.

"Krum?" I said sharply

"How many other Viktors do we know?"

I bit my lip and returned back to my homework without another word. Of course she would be writing that tosser. And what did she know about my emotional range anyway? I had a lot going on in my head, especially about her. I was happy and proud to have her as one of my best mates, I would get nervous sometimes when I was around her because of the complicated feelings, confused that I was indeed having these strong feelings for my best female mate and they weren't seeming to want to go away, conflicted about if I should act on those feelings or not, frustrated because I didn't even know how to properly act on those feelings, scared that she wouldn't feel the same, even more scared that she felt something for Harry because sometimes it seemed like she did, admittedly jealous because I felt like I was in competition for her between Harry and Krum, and sad because I didn't think we would happen and she could find better.

I doubted that any of that could fit on a teaspoon. I myself should have exploded by now.

"Well, night," said Hermione, yawning widely as she set off up the girls' staircase.

"What does she see in Krum?" I said as Harry and I climbed the boys' stairs.

"Well," said Harry, considering the matter, "I s'pose he's older, isn't he ... and he's an international Quidditch player."

"Yeah, but apart from that," I said, aggravated. "He's a git, isn't he?"

"Bit of a tosser, yeah," said Harry, who really didn't look interested in my rambling. His mind WS more than likely still on Cho.

We pulled off our robes and put on pyjamas in silence; Dean, Seamus and Neville were already asleep.

"Night," I said to Harry as I climbed into bed.

"Night."

I drifted off to sleep. Soon, I was dreaming about Hermione, spending Christmas in my house. We were standing by the Christmas tree, just me and her, and we were helping each other decorate it. She was smiling widely at me, as if she was proud to be around me.

I had my hands on her waist, lifting her up to hang the really high decorations. When I brought her back down, she put her arms behind my neck and looked into my eyes. My hands went to the small of her back as I grinned back at her.

My face was getting closer to hers, and vice versa, as she stood on her tiptoes. I could feel her breath on my lips as we closed in for-

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" a bloodcurdling scream came, waking me up. I looked around bewildered until about her one sounded. It was coming from Harry's bed.

"Harry?" I said, jumping out of my bed. I heard the others coming to as well.

"What's the problem?" asked Neville sleepily, as he joined me by a writhing and screaming Harry.

"I don't fucking know! Harry! Wake up mate, its us!"

"What's going on? said Dean.

Harry continued screaming and turning violently in his sheets. He was clammy to the touch, and it seemed as if he was about to explode out of his skin.

"Harry! HARRY!" I yelled once more

His eyes shot open. He looked like he was in the worst pain, and also as if he didn't know where he was.

"Harry!" I said, trying to get him to focus on me. Dean, Seamus, and Neville stood at the foot of his bed, staring. Harry clutched his head in his hands, then he rolled right over and vomited over the edge of the mattress.

"He's really ill," said Neville, scared. "Should we call someone?"

"Harry! Harry!" I kept saying, trying to break whatever horrifying trance he was in.

Harry pushed himself up in bed, looking as if he was forcing himself not to throw up again.

"Your dad," he panted at me, his chest heaving. "Your dad's ... been attacked."

"What?"

"Your dad! He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood everywhere."

"I'm going for help," said Neville, running out of the dorm.

"Harry, mate," I said uncertainly, "you ... you were just dreaming-"

"No!" said Harry furiously. "It wasn't a dream ... not an ordinary dream ... I was there, I saw it ... I did it."

Seamus and Dean was muttering neither one of us gave a fuck what they had to say, especially Seamus. Harry retched again and I leapt backwards out of the way.

"Harry, you're not well," I said shakily. "Neville's gone for help."

"I'm fine!" Harry choked, wiping his mouth on his pyjamas and shaking uncontrollably. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's your dad you've got to worry about-we need to find out where he is-he's bleeding like mad-I was-it was a huge snake."

He tried to get out of bed but I pushed him back into it. I looked at Harry worriedly. However, I couldn't help but think that Harry was indeed telling the truth.

"Over here, Professor." came Neville's voice

Professor McGonagall came hurrying into the dorm in her tartan dressing gown, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her bony nose.

"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?" she asked.

"It's Ron's dad," Harry said as he sat up again. "He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."

"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" said Professor McGonagall, her dark eyebrows contracting.

"I don't know ... I was asleep and then I was there."

"You mean you dreamed this?"

"No!" said Harry angrily. "I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid ... and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it. Mr. Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is!"

Professor McGonagall gazed at Harry as if she couldn't believe what was going on.

"I'm not lying and I'm not mad!" Harry told her, his voice rising to a shout. "I tell you, I saw it happen!"

"I believe you, Potter," said Professor McGonagall curtly. "Put on your dressing gown-we're going to see the Headmaster."