Ron'd better thank me for this one, thought Harry.

That was, of course, if Ron was still alive. He chuckled. After the way Ron and Hermione had been going at it lately, he wouldn't exactly be surprised if he came home to find Ron in the hospital wing or something. It was bound to happen, he was sure of it.

But then again, he had noticed a change in Hermione this morning, when he had pulled her aside at breakfast and offered to stay back from Hogsmeade today for moral support (detention apparently did not require all that much moral support, however--at least, according to Hermione). She'd been awfully quiet then in the Great Hall. Quiet and almost... resigned.

He knew things had still been left largely unresolved between her and Ron last night; her absence at dinner indicated that much. And he also knew Ron had gone up to see her sometime later, after Harry had finally convinced him to go apologize (and Ron had ingested too much treacle pudding--even for him--in a pathetically obvious attempt to stall). Harry didn't know if Ron had actually apologized, but he guessed from Ron's red, blotchy face and disheveled hair (a sure sign he'd been running his hand through it again) when he returned from the girls' dormitory that he probably hadn't.

Otherwise, Hermione might actually have tried to smile at breakfast--even if she and Ron were to miss out on Hogsmeade for an afternoon of being at Professor Sprout's mercy.

His arms were numb by the time he reached the door to the boys dormitory. He could hear the frogs, restless from their long journey, rustling inside the boxes, just waiting for that first glimpse of freedom so they could leap out into the great beyond. It was a good thing Ron just liked them for the wizard cards anyway. Harry hoped he'd finally get something other than Morgana.

With great difficulty, he nudged the heavy door open with his shoulder. One of the boxes fell out of his arms (well, at least it made it all this way), and Harry bent down to collect it before he squeezed in and dumped them all on his bed.

Ron, however, didn't seem to have heard him enter, nor deposit the boxes onto the bed. He looked engrossed in something at the moment, and Harry couldn't quite figure out what that something was. He was sitting on the window sill, legs crossed and his face contorted in great concentration, with the tip of his tongue even poking out of the corner of his mouth as he leaned forward.

Curious, Harry came closer, not even thinking to say anything, but just standing at Ron's side. Ron must have finally seen him from the corner of his eye, because he jolted upright, his cheeks--no, his forehead and chin, indeed his entire head--turning bright red as he stared wide-eyed at Harry, wand raised awkwardly in the shock of having been caught at... something.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Harry finally said, letting out a snort of laughter.

The redness receded from Ron's face, only to be followed with a fresh shade of purple that, Harry had learned long ago, indicated an even deeper level of mortification for his best friend.

At last, Ron brought his wand hand down and mumbled something before jumping off the window sill. Harry followed him with his eyes, hoping that he could try to make sense of what Ron had just said if he could at least read his lips.

But it was of no use.

"What was that?"

"I said, er... you're back..."

"Oh," Harry said, "yeah, I'm back."

He was guessing that the grin he desperately wanted to keep in check (lest Ron be embarrassed further) fought to the surface anyway, because Ron had gone from purple to the color of a blackberry. Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep the smile from widening.

"Oh, you did get the frogs!" Ron said, in a rather awkward--and transparent--attempt to change the subject. He sank down on Harry's bed and started opening the boxes, dodging the frogs as they made their great escape and fishing out the cards. "COOL!!! I got Horatio the Alchemist!!" He took out the card and presented it to Harry. "Look!! Blimey, I can't believe it, I've been wanting to get him forever!!"

Harry sat down beside him and reached for one frog that didn't seem to be moving, then popped it in his mouth. "That's great Ron," he said.

"Yeah..."

He turned his head towards the window sill again and squinted. There was something there, all right, something he hadn't noticed before. Ron was still too busy avoiding his eyes to notice him getting up and walking over to the window.

It was some kind of an etching Ron had carved (he must have used his wand, since Harry knew he didn't own any knives--McGonagall would never allow it anyway). Harry could actually feel his eyes bulge out of their sockets when he saw what it said.

"Ron!!!"

He hadn't meant to shout out loud, honest. Ron nearly toppled off the bed as soon as Harry let out the word. Harry whipped his head around to look at Ron, whose sheepish, lop-sided grin was answer enough that Harry knew he needn't ask the question.

But he asked it anyway.

"Something you wanted to tell me, Ron?"

The crooked grin grew bigger, then Ron took control and wiped his face clean of any tell-tale signs. He shrugged.

"What d'you mean?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at him disbelievingly. No, he was not going to worm his way out of this one. Harry had waited for the better part of a year to get Ron to admit this--ever since last year's Yule Ball, when he'd had to play referee in Ron and Hermione's now infamous row about Viktor Krum and fraternizing with the enemy.

Hell, he had been expecting this day to come ever since first year, if truth be told, and Ron was not going to deprive Harry of the pleasure of hearing the words.

"I mean-"

But the knock at the door interrupted Harry before he had the chance to really put Ron on the spot (not that he wanted to embarrass his best friend, of course). Whoever it was had impeccable timing.

"I'll get it," Ron said. He sprinted to the door so fast, Harry was surprised he hadn't tripped over his feet along the way.

Harry saw the familiar halo of brown hair just over Ron's shoulder.

"Hi," Hermione said, "I thought you might want to go to..."

Apparently, she had seen him. Her mouth fell open, then closed again after a few seconds. Her face turned so pink, Harry reckoned she looked a bit like that raspberry cream-flavored Bertie Botts bean.

"... dinner... er... Hi, Harry. I didn't know you got back already..."

"Just did."

"Oh." Her eyes flicked back to Ron's. "Well, then... perhaps you'd both like to come to dinner now?"

"Er... yeah," Ron said. "Sounds brilliant."

Harry went back to biting the inside of his cheek. Perhaps no words needed to be said here after all. All three of them knew the deal anyway, and all that would be accomplished would be embarrassment all around. He watched the two of them--Hermione looking up at Ron, with her cinnamon eyes lit up with life and fire, and Ron, smiling down at her with a mad blush all over his entire face. He smiled.

"Dinner, then."

He followed them down to the Great Hall, and smiled at the sight of them holding hands.