Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot.

Harry sighed as he trudged in from the Quidditch field, tracking mud across the carpets. He flopped down on his bed, showing no concern that every inch of him was covered in sweat and rainwater.

Asking Cho to the ball hadn't gone as he'd expected—Diggory had beaten him to the task.

He punched the wall and then cursed at his throbbing fist. Perhaps assaulting a stone wall hadn't been the best idea, after all.

In his mind's eye, he envisioned Cedric and Cho waltzing around the dance floor, Cedric and Cho gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, Cedric and Cho kissing... He stopped there, before he could become sick. And yet, he knew full well that he would be far from nauseous if he was the one in these fantasies instead of Cedric.

Ron burst in through the doors, looking sick himself.

"Oy, what's wrong with you?" He shot.

"Harry...d'you...well, d'you think I should ask." He stopped suddenly and blushed so deeply, Harry couldn't tell where his hairline began and his forehead ended.

"Do I think you should ask Trelawney to go with you on the next Hogsmeade visit? No, I don't." He said sharply, and glared at the ceiling.

Damn Diggory. Damn him and his stinking 'chiseled features'...

"Well, who pissed in your morning pumpkin juice?" Ron shot back, equally as irritated. "Anyway...d'you think I should...askHermionetotheball?" He stared down at the floor, determined not to make eye contact.

"It's about bloody time. Go do it now, before she decides to go all feminist on us and blow it off."

"Now?" Ron choked. He wasn't sure he would be able to ask without puking all over her, and even he knew that wasn't likely to go over well.

"Yeah. Go ask her, I think she's still in the common room."

"O...okay." Ron stood up, puffed out his chest, and seemed to mutter 'you're the man' to himself before leaving the room.

Harry smirked to himself. It was only a matter of time before Ron and Hermione started going out, he thought to himself. He just hoped that he wouldn't be the third wheel...

Then another image akin to the one with Cedric and Cho entered his mind, only with Ron and Hermione. In this image, he was sitting a few feet away as they swallowed each other's tongues, looking bored out of his skull...

He cursed, and opened his worn copy of Quidditch through the Ages.

OOOoooOOO

Ron made it down the stairs before a flash of red hair sent him sprawling.

"Oy, little bro, who're you taking to the ball?" Fred grinned cockily as George mimed slow dancing next to him, humming tunelessly.

"None of your business," he mumbled and tried to dodge them. Then he caught a glimpse of Hermione, and the sick feeling returned to the pit of his stomach.

Fred and George followed his gaze, and grinned as they elbowed him so hard, he thought one of his kidneys had been punctured.

"I do believe ickle Ronniekins has a crush on Hermione." Fred chortled and winked impishly.

"My keen senses tell me the same, Fred. Perhaps we should inform her as to our bitty brother's affections..." George responded with a cheeky grin.

"Shut up, you prats." Ron hissed, and ducked to hide his burning cheeks.

George slapped a hand to his heart and Fred shook his head shamefully.

"Such language...now we will most certainly need to tell her. Perhaps we should ask her to the ball for him, too, since he seems to be incapable of speech at the moment?" George or Fred, Ron couldn't really tell in his state, said.

Indeed, Ron found his mouth to be quite useless, merely opening and closing soundlessly as he tried to think of a retort.

"Why, Fred, I think that's exactly what he wants!" George exclaimed, and the two of them sauntered over to the couch where Hermione was quietly finishing her monstrously long Potions essay.

"Good day, Miss Granger." The twins said in unison, and inclined their heads toward her.

"I'm not doing your Transfiguration homework again, if that's what you want." She replied without taking her eyes off the parchment.

"While I am quite hurt that you would even think that of me," George continued as Hermione's left eyebrow shot up. "It's actually our little brother who has a question for you."

"Think you're laying it on a bit thick, mate." Fred patted his twin's arm, and then shoved a beet-red Ron in front of them.

"Yes?" Hermione asked uninterestedly, still scribbling furiously. "Ron, just ask me whatever it is at dinner. I only have five more inches to go..."

"O...okay." He turned to leave again, but Fred held him firmly in place.

"Ask her, you git." He said fondly.

"Um...Her..Hermione?" He started.

Every head in the common room swiveled towards them.

"Yes?" She was still looking down at the parchment.

"Willyougototheballwithme?" He choked out.

Hermione looked up, just for a second, and gave a tiny nod.

"Yes." She said simply.

And then Ron took the opportunity to throw up on Fred's trainers.

A/N: Thank you for reading, and I hope you drop a review!