When I was sixteen and got into that screaming match with Ginny, about Hermione snogging Viktor Krum (you know the one)…standing there and pretending that she was right was the hardest thing in the world. You see, Ginny – always flapping her mouth off the way that she does – doesn't ever know as much as she likes to think that she does! Because I had kissed a girl before…and it was something that I had sworn to never speak about. Ever. Until, of course, the day came that Hermione and I got really serious, and then the truth had to come out. I had to let her know…

During the first few months of my fifth year, when Harry was off in detentions with Umbridge and Hermione was doing OWL prep…I had prefect patrol to do. That year's head boy and girl (whom we all referred to as "bloody gits") – Andrew Piedmont and Mandy Brockelhurst – having taken the Sorting Hat's warning to heart, decided to mix the prefects up for patrols that year. Instead of the pairings that we'd hoped for, Hermione was sent out with Ernie McMillan and I, to my outrage, was paired with Pansy Parkinson. The only thing that consoled me was the knowledge that I didn't have to face Padma Patil – the poor girl was stuck with Malfoy.

Patrols with Pansy started up pretty much the way that you'd expect: we'd both show up late, bicker for a couple of hours, and then pointedly ignore each other until the next time we had to go again. Hermione would have been appalled if she knew ("You're a prefect, Ronald!"), so I never told her.

Then one day, only a couple of weeks into the year, I stood waiting by Snape's classroom for Pansy – I was miraculously early! - and cursing Mandy and Andrew in my head. The sound of rapid approaching footsteps caught my attention and I looked up. My jaw must have dropped or something because she stopped, and a hand reached up self-consciously to touch the strands of her hair.

We stared at each other silently for a moment while I took in her appearance. She was still wearing the same uniform (the skirt a few inches shorter than what was technically permitted) that she'd donned in class earlier that day, but her hair was drastically different. During Potions that morning she'd sported her usual waist-length mane of black curls…but sometime since then she'd chopped off almost two feet of hair. The sleek, chin-length bob that she wore was very dramatic, and I, not one to normally notice such things, couldn't help but admire the difference.

Unlike Harry, I had never found Pansy particularly unattractive – besides of course for her personality. She had very black hair, porcelain pale skin, bright blue eyes, and pretty, pouty lips. Her nose was really her only flaw, and I didn't even really consider it a flaw. She was quite tiny, almost a foot shorter than me, but for some reason the new hair made her look…strong…and…well, hot!

I found myself alarmed at the sudden mental thank-you that I sent to Mandy and Andrew. "What, Weasley?" she snapped at me suddenly. I felt myself blush at the realization that I must have been staring at her for some time.

"I, uh…" I stammered. "Your…" my hand gestured vaguely at her hair, but then I caught myself. "You're late Parkinson!"

"Learned to tell time did you?" she spat back with a cruel smirk. "Well good for you then, never thought I'd see the day."

I scowled at her and we both set off in silence. We opened doors as we went, making sure that no one was messing around in the classrooms. I kept shooting looks at her out of the corner of his eye, and she luckily pretended not to notice.

We climbed up a staircase on the way to the Astronomy Tower and bumped into a student who rounded the corner in a run. "Woah," I warned, grabbing the student's arm to steady them. "Careful mate."

The boy, an older Ravenclaw, clapped me on the shoulder in thanks. His eyes landed on Pansy and he smirked at her annoyed glare. "Well, well," he took in the new hair. "Pansy, don't you look lovely."

"Thank-you," she returned politely, though a little coolly.

"Are you done your patrol soon?" he continued, leering at her. "Because if you are I'm sure that Weasley wouldn't mind if I escorted you back to your common room – would you mate?"

I felt myself want to scowl. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Pansy shift uncomfortably. "Actually we have more to go," I countered. Pansy side stepped the Ravenclaw and continued to ascend the staircase. The boy reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Come on luv, I'm sure we could have more fun without him." Pansy tried to pull her arm away in disgust but his grip on it visibly tightened and she winced. The boy's smirk turned a little nastier and he opened his mouth to say something but Pansy beat him to it.

"Let go of my arm," she warned him, grabbing her wand. The boy stared back at her, ready for a challenge. Despite knowing that Pansy was probably more than capable of taking care of herself, I found myself reaching out and clamping a hand tightly on the boy's shoulder.

"I believe she asked you to let go, Carmichael," I managed to ground out through clenched teeth.

Eddie held her gaze for a moment longer before letting go of her arm and shrugging my hand off. Pansy rubbed at the spot that he'd grabbed. "My best to your parents, Pansy," Carmichael called back to her as he continued down the stairs. She stopped rubbing her arm and I could make out five angry, red fingerprints on her pale skin.

"Fifty points from Ravenclaw," I felt myself blurt out before I could stop.

"What?!" Carmichael turned back in disbelief.

"For running in the halls," I lied blatantly and stared him down. Knowing better than to start something, Eddie scowled but then walked away. I couldn't bring myself to look at her, and so I shoved past her and continued up the stairs.

We walked on in silence for a few minutes more. "Nice friends you have," I finally remarked quietly. I didn't know why it should've bothered me though, because she was so horrible.

"He's an old family friend," she muttered. I knew what that meant: pureblood family. If you want your family to remain pureblooded, your children tend to get thrust together with other purebloods. Harry and Hermione may not be aware of it, being raised by muggles, but Ron knew that as far as pureblood males go (who were concerned with that sort of thing), Pansy Parkinson was the kind of girl that you were supposed to marry. The very thought of being forced into that situation made me feel a great swell of affection for my own, muggle-loving parents.

"Are you okay?" I asked her, noticing that she was once again rubbing at the handprint on her arm. She stopped immediately.

"Yes."

We finished patrol in an awkward silence after that.

About a week later Harry, Hermione, and I were sitting in the library, attempting to work on our Potions homework. I had only done about two inches – 10 less than I needed – and I had that familiar feeling that I wouldn't finish. I peeked over at Hermione and smiled at the look of avid concentration on her face, and the way she chewed on her lower lip while she read. She was so pretty…

The thought was leading towards something that I wasn't quire ready to deal with yet, so I turned to see what Harry was doing. My super hero best friend was clearly stuck in one of his moods, alternating glaring looks at his parchment and adoring looks at Cho Chang, who was sitting at a nearby table. I rolled my eyes, not wanting to touch either subject with Harry just then. Instead, I gathered my books together and packed them into my rucksack.

"I've got an owl to send," I lied when Hermione looked up at me in puzzlement. She frowned.

"Ron if you think I'm going to let you copy off of mine—"

"Of course not Hermione," I winked at her with a grin. "That would just be wrong. You're a prefect! I'll copy off of Harry."

"Ron!" she admonished, choosing to ignore Harry's chuckle. "You're a prefect too! You really must learn to do your own homework!"

"I will," I assured her. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"No, you won't," she signed in resignation.

"Probably not," I grinned one last time, clapped Harry on the shoulder and took my leave.

I weaved my way through the familiar maze of tables and shelves, swinging by the Potions section to drop of my books on the shelving cart. Being friends with Hermione had taught me that it was just easier to take the two minutes to put the books away…the bookish types would kick up such a fuss if you don't, that it simply wasn't worth it to leave them on the table. Rounding the last corner, I stopped short when I saw the familiar black hair. Pansy was standing on the top step of a small footstool, trying to reach a large tome on the top shelf. My head tilted to the side slightly and I grinned. 'She looks really good from the back,' I thought, noting how her skirt rode up when she stretched. Even with the stool she wasn't quite tall enough to reach.

Before she could fall and hurt herself – or I could get caught staring – I came up behind her and, standing on tiptoe, grabbed the book for her. When I looked back down at her, to give her the book, I was met with a pair of large, crystal blue eyes staring back at me, slightly surprised.

"Thank you," she said awkwardly, as if it was a new expression for her (probably was), and took the offered book.

"No problem," I replied, distracting myself by putting my books on the proper shelving cart.

"Actually I needed to talk to you," she continued. I looked over curiously. "Slytherin is having their Quiddich tryout tonight."

"So?"

"Draco wants to switch patrol nights with us so that he can go to the tryout," she told me.

"What if I'm busy tonight?" I countered, not wanting to help out the scumbag or his team even a little bit.

Pansy shrugged with a smirk. "Then I'll take his place with Padma tonight, and you can go with him on Wednesday," she informed me.

That sounded even worse. "You know I think I can rearrange my schedule," I said instead, trying for cool.

She smirked but luckily decided not to comment. "Okay then, I'll see you later."

"Yeah," I nodded and continued on his way out of the library.

We both arrived on time that night, and I briefly wondered if she was feeling the same…was it anticipation (?!) that I was. I immediately disregarded the thought. "Hello," she actually greeted, so I raised my hand in a lame wave. We looked at each other for a second before she blinked and began walking. I followed.

The evening passed mostly in silence, though not an uncomfortable one. Around nine o'clock we ran into Hermione, coming out of the library. "Are you patrolling?" she asked us – well, mostly me. Pansy turned her attention to her fingernails while we talked.

"Yeah, we switched shifts with Padma and Malfoy," I explained. Hermione looked a little surprised at that. "Slytherin had their Quiddich tryouts tonight."

"Oh," she answered diplomatically, aware of Pansy's presence. "That was nice of you."

"Uh, well," I felt myself blush at the compliment. "You know, this way it's out of the way until next week."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "Yes, well," she resisted looking in Pansy's direction at all. "Did you get your essay done? It's due tomorrow afternoon." From my silence, she knew that I hadn't. "Ronald!"

"I'll work on it before bed," I told her with an easy grin, raising a hand to my heart. I hoped that she didn't know how much I loved it when she took that bossy tone with me. "I promise."

She sighed heavily and held my gaze. "Do you need help?" she finally asked. I grinned at that and shrugged. "I won't let you copy!"

"But you're so smart," I whined. "If I hand it in Snape will have to give me at least an E on it! You know I need the mark—"

"—maybe you should have done the homework then –"

"But I went and gallantly offered my services as prefect—" Pansy snorted at that but we both ignored her "—you're the one who told me that I need to start taking this whole prefect thing more seriously!"

"Yes, but…I…"

"Don't worry," Pansy interrupted impatiently. "I'll make sure Ronald gets home early." Hermione turned to her coolly.

"And will he be in one piece?" she snapped.

"For the most part," Pansy smirked, then grabbed the front of my robes, pulling my along. "Come on Weasley. This doesn't need to take all night."

I nodded at her and turned to Hermione. "I'll be back soon, okay? We'll work on it tonight," I assured her. Hermione gave me a small smile and then left, throwing one last glare at Pansy. I batted Pansy's hand away from my robes. "Okay, I'm coming!"

A few minutes later I huffed. "You didn't have to be so rude—"

"She was rude to me first!"

"Maybe if you didn't call her a…well, you know…she wouldn't be so rude to you," he pointed out.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "First," she said. "I don't care if she likes me, as her opinion means nothing to me. Second, if I were nice to her she would just hate me more—"

"What? That's rubbish—"

"Because she doesn't get to patrol with you," Pansy finished.

"Well, we're friends," I admitted. "But I don't think she hates patrolling with McMillan that much." Pansy snorted. "What?" I demanded angrily. "What's so funny?"

"You're clueless," she muttered.

"What?"

Pansy stopped walking and turned to me. "Granger is such a mothering, pestering cow because she is in love with you."

"Hey, don't call her—" I paused there, really hearing what she said. "What? No way! She's going out with bloody Viktor Krum!"

"Okay," Pansy sighed, not believing me but clearly bored with the conversation. I didn't answer her, but found myself considering what she'd said.

'Maybe I should be getting Hermione a nice Christmas present,' I found myself thinking with a warm feeling in my chest. 'Just in case…I wouldn't want to make her mad like I did last year at the Yule Ball…'

"So, do you think just a quick trip to the Owlry and that'll be it?" she was asking now. I shrugged that I didn't care and we set out towards the main doors. Along the way we ran into Fred and George in the main hall.

"What are you two up to?" I asked them, immediately suspicious.

"You wound us little brother," Fred pressed a hand to his chest in mock pain.

"Ickle Ronnie Prefect," George cooed obnoxiously. "Don't you worry about us—"

"I'm not!"

"—we're just trying to make a couple of sales," Fred finished.

"Ms. Parkinson," George greeted gallantly, brandishing one of their extendable ears. "You're looking lively this evening. Can we interest you in one of our Extendable Ears? They're very useful for overhearing conversations on the sly…and we know that a socially active lady such as yourself can never be too well informed!"

To Ron's surprise Pansy laughed and reached out to take the extendable ear, examining it curiously. "How much are they?" she asked, holding one end up to her own ear briefly.

"For you, one sickle—"

"What?" I yelped. "You charged the rest of us almost twice that!"

"Pansy here is one of our best customers," George informed me. I raised my eyebrows doubtfully at that.

"Spends a small fortune on our stuff every holiday," Fred added with a pleased wink in her direction. Pansy rolled her eyes but a small smile graced those pink lips.

"I'll take it," she cut off the banter and tossed Fred a sickle. The twins bowed in unison at that.

"Thank-you for your patronage," Fred winked again.

"We'll be sure to find you when our Christmas products are ready!" George added. They took off before I could kick up a fuss…or muster up the nerve to reprimand them for selling their wares on school property.

I looked over at her accusingly. "My little brother goes mad for their stuff," she told me flippantly, continuing on her way to the Owlry. I followed.

The next week I all but stomped my feet the whole way down to the dungeons to meet for prefect patrol. Hermione and I had just gotten into a blazing row about, whom else, Viktor Krum, and I was in a particularly foul mood. I clamoured down the final set of stairs and strode towards Snape's classroom, my long legs and angry strides bringing me there quickly. The closer I got to Snape's room though, the louder a pair of voices became. Familiar voices. I reached the doorway and could now overhear them, Pansy and Draco, having a very fight of their own.

"That's not fair!" Pansy was yelling.

"Too right it's not fair!" Draco yelled back, kicking a stool in his anger. "You can go gallivanting around with Carmichael—"

"What?!"

"—but I can't even talk to anyone else without you—"

"I was not gallivanting with that sleaze, or with anyone else for that matter!" she screeched. I knew the tone of her voice, being on the receiving end of it before from my mother, my sister, and from Hermione. A part of me felt for Draco…but only a very small part. "And I'm not talking about you talking to that slag—"

"Hey she's not—"

"You went to Hogsmede with her Draco!" Pansy cut him off. "We were supposed to…" she trailed off and Malfoy's eyes fell to his shoes, unable to look at her.

"Pansy, I—"

"No, you know what, it's fine," she shook her head and smirked coolly. Neither of them had noticed Ron yet. "You go find her, do…whatever. I've got to meet Weasley for prefect patrol anyway."

"Pansy, hang Weasley," Draco grabbed her arm pleadingly. "Let's just—"

"And after perhaps I'll drop by and see Eddie," she continued cruelly. Malfoy let go of her arm abruptly and stared back angrily.

"What?"

"I mean, if you can run off with Emma Bennett, then why can't I have a little fun of my own right?" she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Look, Pansy," Draco took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down. Ron had to hand it to the guy; he would have stormed off by now. "I know that you don't mean that, you're just trying to…maybe we just need to take a minute—"

"No!"

"—to calm down and—"

"No, Draco!" she snapped. Then her tone softened. "Maybe we just need to take a while and…something just isn't working right now. Maybe we just…maybe we should stop trying for a while."

"W-what?" Malfoy sputtered. "Are you breaking up with me? Over this…misunderstanding? Pansy we fight all of the time but that doesn't mean—"

"Maybe," she cut him off again, and though her words were quiet, he stopped talking and listened avidly. "Maybe you shouldn't have to try this hard…"

"No," Malfoy shook his head, looking sickened at the very thought. "Maybe you don't. If this…us, is more than you're willing to do right now then maybe we should take a permanent break." She didn't have anything to say now, and bit her lip in a way that made me think of Hermione. My blood began to boil again.

"I'm going now," Malfoy muttered, turning to walk out. A half-hearted smirk appeared on his face and he shot back over his shoulder: "Maybe Emma Bennett will be more anxious for my company."

He pushed past me without a word, and didn't see Pansy pick up a potion flask and chuck it at the wall with an angry cry. I was sure he heard the crash though, because his footsteps faltered slightly. Pansy looked up at me and marched my way, breezing right past me, out the door and towards the stairs. "Come on!" she snapped. Though I found her tone and presumptuousness a little offensive, I knew enough to follow her quietly.

She led me through the hallways, out of the front doors, and down past Hagrid's hut, to the lake. Pulling out her wand she pointed it at a large rock and screamed: "Reducto!" The rock burst into a hundred pieces.

My eyes widened in surprise at the display. She blasted another rock and yelled: "Draco!" blast "Malfoy!" blast "Stupid!" blast "Prat!" blast. Then she looked over at me expectantly. I stared back wide-eyed at her. Then my mind went back to my fight with Hermione, which had momentarily left my mind at seeing Pansy and Draco's break-up…and I was all of a sudden angry all over again.

Before I knew what I was doing, I pulled my wand out and pointed it at a rock. "Reducto!" The rock burst and I revelled in how good it felt. And then, for the next five minutes, the only sounds that could be heard was our calling voices and the sound of cracking granite.

"Emma Bennett," Pansy yelled and I returned with: "Percy, the prat!"

Umbridge! Crack!

Harry's moodiness! Crack!

Draco Malfoy! Crack!

Snape! Crack!

Lavender Brown! Crack!

Emma Bennet! Crack!

Ginny's cheek! Crack!

Pansy's parents! Crack!

Seamus Finnegan! Crack!

Finally we both pointed simultaneously at a large boulder. She muttered "Eddie Carmichael" and I countered with "Vicky! Bloody! Krum!" and together we both cried out "Reducto!" The boulder shattered with an ear splitting crack that had us both duck and shield our faces.

When the dust cleared, literally and metaphorically, we both stood and looked at each other in shock. "I feel better," I admitted, the anger ebbing out of him.

"Me too," she agreed. We stood for a second and then she shrugged. "Patrol then?"

"Okay."

Later that night, as we were once again climbing the seemingly endless staircase to the Astronomy tower, I found myself wanting to say something about the conversation that I'd overheard. "I'm sorry about Malfoy," I told her.

She smiled. "Really?"

"Well, no…he's a prat," I admitted. "But you seem to like him, so…" I trailed off uselessly, hoping that she got the sentiment at least. I was trying after all.

"Maybe I'm kind of sorry that you fought with Granger," she muttered. Then more loudly: "though it was probably your fault." I didn't argue; it probably was my fault.

"I think you were right though," I noted thoughtfully. "Maybe it's not supposed to be this hard. Maybe when you care about someone it should just work…or else maybe it's not right." Even as I said the words I didn't quite believe them, and realized what a cop-out they were. I suppose a part of me was trying to justify my growing attraction to a girl I should (and normally would) be disgusted by; something to explain how I could be more and more enthralled with Pansy Parkinson, despite the fact that I knew that I was head over heels for Hermione Granger.

"Maybe," she said softly, though I didn't think she believed it either. I remembered her swooning over Malfoy since third year, and knew that she probably cared about him as much as I cared about Hermione – in her own, selfish, Slytherin way.

We reached the top of the tower and went inside. Luckily there were no students in there. Pansy sighed and walked over to look out of one of the turret windows. I sat on a stone bench in the middle of the room and echoed her sigh. Despite my best intentions, I found myself staring at her, the way her pale skin seemed to shine in the moonlight. Eventually she took a seat beside me and I amazingly felt myself staring even more. She was very pretty…

It was as if watching someone else's actions: my brain looked on in absolute horror as my hand, taking on a mind of it's own, reached out to touch the blunt ends of her now short hair. Most witches wore it long, and for some reason I found it incredibly sexy on her like that. She looked back at me in both surprise and disbelief.

"I never told you – I really like it this way," I dropped my hand quickly, as if it had been burned, and felt my cheeks blush bright red. "Sorry," I muttered, averting my eyes in humiliation.

She didn't say anything and just stared back at me pensively, as if considering me…or something. I almost didn't notice when her hand slid closer to mine, or when her toes tapped against mine; but I certainly noticed when she turned sideways on the bench, bringing her body closer to mine. She stared unabashedly into my face, daring me to break the eye contact that we were all of a sudden making, daring me to just look away…

By some miracle, I managed to hold her gaze, my body turning to meat hers. The next thing that I knew, my lips were pressed against hers in a dizzying dance. I didn't know how –well, okay, I leaned in first—but before the clock struck ten that night, I, Ronald Billius Weasley, found myself sitting in the Astronomy tower, making out with Pansy Parkinson.

The potion in front of me was boiling almost out of control, but to be honest I didn't really notice (or care). My attention was focused on the girl sitting a row up and to the left of me. She had her legs up on the criss-cross bar under her desk, and her skirt had pooled up around her thighs a little higher than usual. I found myself transfixed by the smooth white skin that was exposed.

Pansy caught my eye briefly and smirked. She turned away but I noticed her squirm a little in her seat, unnerved by my stare. That made me smirk. When I'd woken up that morning a part of me felt a little twinge of guilt for what I'd done the night before. But just a small part.

Then when I went downstairs and saw Hermione I felt a little wretched inside. I couldn't bring myself to say much beyond "good morning" to her, which she seemed to take to mean that I was still mad at her for the day before. I tried to justify my actions though by telling myself that if she can go out with Viktor Krum, then why can't I make out with Pansy Parkinson? It didn't matter that I knew deep down she wasn't really with Krum…I was fifteen and Pansy was more willing than Hermione, so I told myself what I needed to hear.

Now Hermione seemed to notice my wandering gaze and followed it, scowling in disgust at Pansy's display of skin. "Tart," I distinctly heard her mutter – a little unfairly, I thought – and turn back to her potion.

I carelessly stirred my own potion and dropped in some wormroot, lowering the flame to let it simmer. A part of me felt guilty again, seeing both girls there together had the feeling come rushing back to me, but I once again tried to justify my actions. What I was doing wasn't really wrong, as I wasn't involved with Hermione. And Pansy had broken up with Malfoy…so was there really anything wrong with it?

I knew of course that there was, or else I would have been able to tell my friends about it. Pansy wasn't a very nice girl, and she treated Hermione like a second-class citizen. The better part of me knew that was wrong…but the baser part of me recognized that there was something about her that I liked.

I had never looked at a girl quite this way before. I'd had some vague crushes before, and I'd been (magically) enthralled with Fleur Delacoeur. I loved Hermione, I really did. But I lusted after Pansy in a way that I wished I didn't. I had no doubt in my mind that Hermione Granger was the girl for me, but I also agreed slightly with Pansy's theory from the night before: if it was this hard all of the time to make things work, then maybe they just weren't ready for each other yet. Maybe a part of me knew that Hermione was just too big a part of my life to risk loosing, because I was still fifteen and immature.

That didn't mean that I wasn't ready for something else though. As I sat there in class, my potion boiling over and ruining itself (I got a D), I found myself staring at the raven-haired girl in front of me. I wanted her right now. I wanted more.

TBC...