Disclaimer: [see Prologue

A/N: This is a complete experimentation. At the end of this, I might find I've been as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who decided the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron:D

Just a quick note: As you all may know, our Golden couple don't really begin to have "feelings" for each other until PoA, at the earliest...as a result, the first two books aren't exactly riddled with as many opportunities as the last two! But even though there wasn't exactly a lot of room for romance, I thought we could definitely come up with some cute moments! I hope you'll bear with me until we're given more leeway!

If any of you can think of a scene you'd like to see made into a missing moment, please let me know! I'd be happy to try it out!

And lastly, to my reviewers: Hermione Solo, Annie858, Woollongong Shimmy, cheesylocamotive, CreativeTypist, Beffy-Boop, Geolina Bartilonee, Mists, Love.Always.Alice.and.Jasper.: I love you all!

And to pstibbons, who has expressed the concern that anyone who believes Ron is good enough for Hermione is "immature, naïve and/or hates Hermione," I suppose that means Hermione hates herself quite a bit, for she wanted Ron more than we all wanted him with her! And as for your opinion that she should be paired with Remus...I'm sorry, but I adore Remus too much to reduce him to a pedophile. Thanks for reading!

I. Showing Slytherin

The sky was a clear, deep blue, the sun beaming furiously from amidst a cluster of puffy white clouds. Not a breath of wind was to be found, and no one...fan or not...could deny that it was perfect Quiddich conditions. As usual, the stands were packed to bursting with energized, chattering students, and the noise level was certainly one to rival that of the World Cup. The excitement amongst the spectators was thick, tangible, as of course it should be...

All of this, it seemed, was lost on Severus Snape, who marched out onto the pitch looking thoroughly...to be blunt...pissed. The expression on his face was dancing over into dangerous realms...in sharp contrast to the cheerful ambiance around him, Snape appeared to be an absolute waste of flesh and intelligence.

At least in Ron's opinion.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he said to Hermione, his lip automatically curling in dislike. Thoughts of Snape, however, were momentarily removed to the backburner as the fourteen players rose steadily into the air, casting huge shadows onto the ground. "Look...they're off. Ouch!" he added, raising a hand to the sharp pain in the back of his head.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."

Ron closed his eyes for a moment against the voice, envisioning a rather lovely scene in which one of the Bludgers suddenly found itself thirsty for the blood of the blonde git behind him. When it became apparent that this most glorious of dreams was not to become reality, Ron merely muttered a curse under his breath, leaning away from Malfoy and closer to Hermione. She gave him a stern glance, silently admonishing him for swearing, but at that moment Harry streaked over their heads and the pair turned their attentions, simultaneously, back to the game.

From the bench behind them, Malfoy apparently said something highly amusing, for Crabbe and Goyle lapsed into identical snickers. Ron was only listening with half an ear; his insides were knotted with worry over Harry and anger at Snape, who was evidently schizophrenic, with both personalities warring over who could deduct more points from Gryffindor. With Dumbledore present, there was not much more he could do...however, the thought did little to comfort Ron, and he glanced over at Hermione for reassurance. He gained little, for she was hunched in her seat, eyes locked attentively on Harry, her whole body tensed as though ready for an explosion.

Malfoy was not helping matters; he was at it again, delighting in Snape's unfairness and celebrating by launching a well-rounded attack on the Gryffindors. Ron, who was much too engrossed in the game to worry about it properly, did manage half a grin as he heard Neville, blushing scarlet, say, "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy."

"You tell him, Neville," he said distractedly.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Already momentarily averted from the match by Neville's brave retort, Ron absorbed the insult with both ears...which were slowly reddening by the moment. Never a good sign. "I'm warning you, Malfoy...one more word..."

"Ron!" Hermione screeched, reaching out suddenly and latching onto his sleeve. "Harry!"

"What? Where?" his eyes scanned the skies, coming to a rest on Harry's plummeting form. The broom was rocketing towards the ground, drawing gasps from the crowd as they strained to catch a glimpse of the Golden Snitch. Hermione leapt to her feet, one hand over her mouth and the other still clutching Ron's sleeve. He obeyed the pressure without thinking; he rose to his feet as well, heart hammering as he watching Harry's progress...

"You're in luck, Weasley; Potter's obviously spotted some money on the gr..."

In was quite lucky, perhaps, that Ron was standing...within a second, he had twisted around and launched himself over the bench. Malfoy's taunting gray eyes widened to what could've been surprise or terror...maybe both...as Ron sailed over the seat, fists already flying. The first blow was by all means the best...although admittedly, it was a bit of an accident, what with Ron slipping on his own robes on his flight over the bench. Nevertheless, the top of his head managed to connect directly with Draco's face...sure he busted his nose on his own fist, but of course, that detail wasn't really necessary. He merely heaved a deep breath and pushed on through, wrestling the surprised Slytherin to the ground. After a few moments, he became aware of a whole new tussle taking place right beside them...before Crabbe and Goyle had time to do more than blink stupidly, Neville had clambered over his seat, one fat fist connecting with each of them.

This, of course, put fresh heart into Ron...the pair of them continued to roll around under the stands, right in under Hermione's seat. Ron vaguely heard her shout something, along with his name, but was much too fixated on his target to care. Malfoy, somehow, had finally gotten ahold of the situation and had scrambled on top, forcing Ron's head back with one hand and raising his free fist...

"Ron! Ron, did you see...oh for God's sake!" Hermione's tone had switched from excited to exasperated in mere seconds. "Locomotor Mortis!"

With a strangled yell, Malfoy's legs snapped together; now that his adversary was unbalanced, Ron was able to shove him off and clamber to his feet. Breathing heavily, yet smirking, Ron wheezed. "And that's what you get, you sorry prat! You're just lucky I went easy on you, or..." he trailed off at the loud "Ahem!" from behind. Glancing back, he saw Hermione standing with her arms crossed and head cocked, tapping her wand to her shoulder. "Oh...well done to you, to," he told her grudgingly.

She raised one eyebrow, and then opened her mouth to speak. Before she could utter one word, however, Ron had grabbed her by the arm. "Come on, Hermione...haven't you realized we won?!"

"But...that's what...really!" and with that, she allowed herself to be tugged along with the rest of their scarlet-and-gold clad house, who were all surging onto the field to cheer for Harry.

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Ron dashed along the deserted corridor, trainers flapping on the rough stone floor; having just left Fred and George to go gather the necessary supplies for their victory party, he was now feverishly searching for Hermione. He remembered hearing her vaguely say something about checking on Neville, so he directed his footsteps towards the hospital wing. Sure enough, as he approached the cracked door, he heard her voice drifting out into the hallway. Aware of the blood dripping off his nose and onto his robes, Ron held up a hand to stem the flow and waited outside, unwilling to have Madam Pomfrey fuss over him, as she was currently doing to Neville.

"...insulting him, and I think Neville just sort of...snapped." Ron could hear the pride...also, a bit of amusement...in Hermione's voice as she explained to the nurse what happened.

"Absolutely ridiculous! I'll be reporting that boy...I can't even imagine the cruelty it would've taken to get such a reaction out of Mr. Longbottom! But anyway, Miss Granger...thank you for telling me, but I really don't think there's much we can do now. A bit of rest and before long he'll be as good as new."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Her voice was right on the other side of the door; she slipped around it, closing it quietly, and then turned almost directly into Ron.

"For heaven's sake Ronald! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," he said thickly, although not sounding sorry in the slightest. "Have you seen Harry since the match?"

"Harry? No...I thought he was with you," her gaze landed on Ron's streaming nose, which he was trying, and failing, to control. "You should really have Madame Pomfrey take a look at that."

"Are you kidding?" he barked, now switching sleeves, as the other one was completely coated with blood. "And have her insist that I stay there for three days, drinking a Replenishing potion every half-hour? No thanks," he added with an exaggerated shudder as they started off down the corridor. "I'll take the nosebleed."

Hermione shook her head. "Ron, you are the limit," she sighed. "So you haven't seen Harry at all? Where could he have gotten off to?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe he went to find Snape? So they could have a little chat about the fairness of the scoring?"

"I don't know of anyone who would actively seek out Snape," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Ron gave her an incredulous look. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing...just never thought I'd see the day when you started criticizing teacher," despite himself, he grinned...then immediately after he winced, as a few drops of blood dripped into his mouth.

"I'm not criticizing anyone...I'm merely telling the truth," she retorted loftily. Then, quite suddenly, she reached out and placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, stopping him. "Hang on," she said, rather softly.

He paused, one hand still covering his nose. "What?" he asked, almost defensively.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she removed her wand from her robes. "Move your hand."

"What?"

"Move your hand," she repeated patiently, at the same time reaching up and taking Ron's blood-soaked hand away from his face. The next thing he knew, she was pointing her wand at his nose, the point not more than an inch from it.

"Uh...Hermione?" he stared at the tip of the wand, cross-eyed, and said cautiously, "You know I think you're brilliant and all, but...well, this just might be a Ron thing, but I'm not at all fond of having a wand pointed between my eyes..."

"And I'm not at all fond of trying to converse with you with blood streaming down your face! Now hush!" before he had time to protest, she flicked her wand and said, "Episkey."

Ron's nose burned, then froze...and then he could feel the flow of blood stopping. Reaching up, he touched it gingerly. "Bloody hell! That was brilliant, thanks..." Hermione cut off his thanks by flicking her wand yet again, saying, "Tergeo." Another experimental touch found all the blood gone from his face. Then she directed her wand at his two wet sleeves and repeated the spell. They were once again glossy black.

"Where do you learn all this stuff?" he asked softly. Hermione had reached for his hand, pulling back the sleeve so she could remove the blood.

"It never hurts to be prepared, Ron."

He smiled. "Prepared, yes, but you could take over from Pomfrey any day n..."

"Harry!"

He trailed off, the thought completely forgotten, as Hermione squealed the Seeker's name and dashed down the corridor to where he had appeared. Ron, still feeling slightly flustered, followed in her wake. "Where have you been!"

The excitement of the morning returned full force, Ron grinned heartily and thumped Harry on the back. "We won! You won! We won! And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be alright! Talk about showing Slytherin..."

It was here he stopped, as he noticed the odd look on Harry's face. "Never mind that now! Let's find an empty room, wait until you hear this!" and he promptly dragged his two mystified friends off into a deserted classroom. "...Quirrel would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through..."

Ron felt his jaw drop. They sat there for a moment in complete silence, until Hermione asked sharply, "So you mean the stone's only safe as long as Quirrel stands up to Snape?" she threw a look of pure shock at Ron, who unconsciously nodded grimly.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday."

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A/N: So about Hermione already knowing those spells, even though it's the first year...I might've cheated a bit, but she's brilliant, so I hope there's not a lot of shouting over that!

I don't love this chapter too much...I prefer a bit more fluff...but please let me know what you think! And remember...if you have a scene you'd like to make it in here, just let me know! Ideas are always appreciated.

(T.S.E)