"I. Am going. To throttle. THAT BOY!"
"Mm," came the response, but the speaker's eyes never left Magical Drafts and Potions. "I think you've mentioned that before."
A scowl spread over the face that lifted slightly off the bedspread. "I mean it this time, Ginny. I can't take it anymore!"
"Mm-hmm," said Ginny. "I know you've mentioned that before."
Ginny narrowed her eyes, trying to regain the focus she'd held before Hermione had barged into the sixth-year dormitory.
Hermione flopped onto her back, in a dramatic gesture she had nearly perfected over the last few weeks. She'd had plenty of opportunity to practise.
"Well, he's your brother. Don't you have the slightest idea how I might get through to him?"
Ginny sighed and closed her textbook. Poor Hermione was so frustrated, it wouldn't hurt to humour her a bit.
"Hermione, I don't know that Ron has a 'through' to 'get.' He's my brother and I love him, but really, I don't think I've ever known anyone so thick."
Hermione groaned spectacularly. "But I've tried everything short of turning up in the boys' dormitory in a skimpy negligee and doing a belly dance. What's it going to take for that boy to twig to his feelings for me?"
Ginny muffled her laughter at the image, of a sultry Hermione draping filmy scarves around Ron's neck while the oblivious wizard brushed her out of his way so he could sketch out Quidditch strategies for the upcoming season.
Not that Ron would really fail to notice such a display. Even Ginny's dear brother wasn't that thick.
"Honestly, I just don't know," Ginny admitted. "I thought you were clever to think of Apparating into his bed while we were still at the Burrow..."
"Ginny!" Hermione was one of few witches who could convincingly carry off that blend of shock and deviousness. "You know perfectly well that I would never actually do that! I couldn't bring myself to violate your parents' trust that way!"
Hermione's smirk belied the severity of her words.
Ginny waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "You wouldn't have had any privacy, anyway, with Harry there. Only imagine if you'd chosen the wrong bed!"
Two sets of brown eyes met across the room, and the girls collapsed into giggles. Both suspected that Harry would have been even more appalled than Ron would have been if Hermione had ended up appearing alongside the wrong boy.
Ginny stood and crossed the dormitory to her friend. She smiled understandingly at Hermione as she sat on the bed next to her.
"I'm sure Ron feels the same way you do, Hermione. And I'm sure he has twigged." She held Hermione's gaze reassuringly. "We'll think of a way to help him realise it's okay to do something about it."
***
"I thought. She was going. To throttle me!"
"Huh," began the reply. The green eyes stayed fixed to the broomstick their owner was busy polishing. "Not the first time for that, was it?"
Footsteps crossed the room to stand directly in front of the wizard and his Firebolt. "I mean it this time, Harry. She's really starting to scare me!"
"Uh-huh," said Harry. "Definitely not the first time for that."
Harry lifted his prize closer to his face, narrowing his eyes to inspect the finish on the handle.
Ron flopped dramatically onto Harry's bed, hands pushing his hair back in exasperation.
"You always seem to know what she's thinking. Don't you have the slightest idea what's wrong with her?"
Harry sighed and put down his broomstick. Poor Ron really didn't understand what was going on, and he could probably do with some help.
"Ron, I don't think there's anything wrong with Hermione. She may seem a bit odd at times, but really, I don't know anyone else who has it quite as well worked out as she does."
Ron let out his breath in a defeated rush. "Only lately everything I do seems to upset her. All I said was I didn't fancy a walk by the Lake because I had promised Dean a game of chess."
Harry chuckled inwardly, imagining Hermione smiling hopefully and invitingly at Ron, who stared away into space while he planned out a new attack against Dean's queen using both knights and a castle.
How could he have really missed Hermione's meaning? Only Ron could possibly be that thick.
"Ron, have you considered the possibility that Hermione is annoyed because she would like to spend some more time with you?"
"Well, that's just the problem, isn't it?" Ron's eyes grew wide and sincere. "She's always talking about duties we have to complete together as Head Boy and Girl, and studying and patrolling together after lights out. You know how I feel, I'm afraid if I spend that much time alone with her, I might do something I'll regret."
The melancholy set of Ron's mouth emphasised the sincerity of his words.
Harry shook his head in amazement. "Ron," he ventured, "what do you imagine Hermione would do if you were to try and do something about these feelings you have for her?"
Blue eyes bulged out in alarm. A few choked utterances emerged from Ron's throat before intelligible speech could form.
"Do something? About my feelings?" He gulped visibly. "With Hermione?"
Harry was afraid Ron would forget how to breathe, so he lay a reassuring hand on the other boy's shoulder. "You do want to do something about it, don't you?"
Ron's expression took on a dangerously vacant gaze. "She'd thump me. Terrifying, that one."
"Maybe not, Ron," murmured Harry soothingly. "Maybe not."