I have always had some problems with all the homework we got. So I suppose it was not surprising to all the other Gryffindors when I, Neville Longbottom, was the only one left in the common room, struggling to finish the latest essay from Professor Snape.

I believed all the others had gone off to bed, but I have been mistaken before.

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger came in through the portrait hole. Ron and Hermione were bickering about something stupid. I was not too interested; they were known for their quarrels.

Harry didn’t seem too interested in being there with his two friends. “Listen, I’m very tired. I think – I’m off to bed.�

The other two didn’t even notice that he almost sprinted up to his dormitory; they obviously were too busy with their argument.

“You know we almost got a detention for being out of bed,� hissed Hermione. “We were almost caught by Filch!�

“You said it; almost,� snarled Ron.

“That’s not the point! It was your idea to visit the house-elves this late.�

“But we’ve got to find the Invisibility Cloak! We can’t manage without it!�

“I know! We needed it tonight!�

“Yeah, but it was gone! That’s why we went out to find it!�

Sometimes, I don’t understand them. If I had a friend I loved who loved me back, I would not spend the time quarrelling with her. But I will never experience that kind of thing, no matter what I do.

“But if we had to visit the house-elves to see if they, of all creatures, had stolen it, why didn’t we do it while it was morning or something?� asked Hermione hotly; house-elves has been a touchy subject with her for some time.

“Dunno, it seemed like a good idea at the time…�

“Why would the house-elves take the Cloak? Is this just some prejudice you have?�

They then moved into an argument about house-elves. They had not even seen me, even though I had a good view over the whole room from where I was sitting. I didn’t even sit that far from where they were standing. I could see every movement made by them. I did not mean to watch them, but I reckon most people are paralysed when those two fight.

“S’pose Vicky agreed on the subject?� sneered Ron. “Or else you’d bite his head off every time you two had a private moment…�

“Why do you keep bringing Viktor into this?� asked Hermione. “I haven’t mentioned him a single time the past weeks, yet you randomly throw his name into our conversation.�

I wondered if Hermione considered a fight with Ron a ‘conversation’.

“And don’t call him Vicky, by the way,� she added.

“I can call him Vicky if I want to. I’m sure you do the same when you’re calling his name in bed.�

I almost gasped, just like Hermione did.

“How – how dare you?� she whispered.

I could see Ron blush. “I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was that you’re probably calling him Vicky in sleep… when you’re dreaming of him, you know…� he muttered, not quite meeting her eyes. Even his ears were red.

“Who said I’ve ever dreamt of him at all?� said Hermione coolly.

“No one… but it’s normal to dream of the boyfriend, isn’t it?�

“Who said he’s ever been my boyfriend?�

“No one, but he is, isn’t he? Or at least has been.�

“As a matter of fact, he’s not, and has never been, my boyfriend.�

“Really?�

They looked at each other.

Feeling where this conversation was leading to, I leaned over my essay, desperately trying to think of something I could write. I just stared at the parchment, unable to think of anything.

“Would I lie to you, Ron?� said Hermione quietly.

“No,� said Ron, “I don’t think you would.�

They looked at each other again, all thoughts of fighting seemingly off their minds.

“I – I-� stuttered Hermione, “I think I remember where we left the Cloak. It’s down in Hagrid’s hut.�

“Yeah… when you mention it, I think it is, too. I’ll go get it.�

Ron began to go towards the portrait hole, but Hermione stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Don’t,� she said. Ron looked at her hand, then touched it lightly, almost as though he was certain the hand would fade away if he was near it.

I started to sweat. Maybe I should make my presence known, so I didn’t have to watch this. No, I was afraid to ruin something. I couldn’t go away, either, as they probably would notice me, and then I would ruin something, too. No, the best I could do was to concentrate on my essay. But that was a little bit difficult.

Ron looked uncertain before he pulled Hermione into a hug. She looked shocked, but she hugged him back. They stood there for a minute before Ron spoke up. “I’m sorry,� he whispered.

I could see Hermione stiffen. “Are you apologizing?� she asked, before she let go of him, looking at him.

Ron shrugged.

“But you never apologize!�

“D’you want me to take the apology back?�

Hermione gazed at him before she answered. “No.�

“Good.� Ron paused. “Is it really that extraordinary when I say I’m sorry after a fight?�

“Yes.�

“S’pose I’m sorry again, then.�

“Don’t be,� said Hermione softly. “I should say sorry just as often as you should.� The gap between them (which she had made after pulling away from Ron half a minute ago) was not there any more when she moved closer to him. Think, Neville, think, I thought. Think of something I can write. But the only word I could think of was for some unknown reason ‘potatoes’. Potatoes couldn't fit in anywhere in the essay, so I was left to continue staring at the scene before me.

Hermione stood up on tip-toe and kissed Ron’s cheek. I didn’t know if it was intended, but it was very close to his mouth.

They both blushed. They both looked awkward. They both looked embarrassed. They both seemed a little pleased. And they both seemed to be madly in love.

I tried to look away, I tried. But I seriously believe that those two together can make anyone fall in trance.

Ron’s finger stroked her cheek. He seemed to be in trance, too. Good to know I wasn’t the only one. But it was a different trance. He was in trance because Hermione had just kissed him; I was in trance because of no particular reason.

Hermione touched his freckled nose. Her brown eyes met his blue, before they closed. Ron and Hermione leaned into a real kiss this time. It was light and innocent at first, but then the moment I dreaded would come arrived; the moment where their kissing became more passionate, the moment where they lay down on a couch. Their hands seemed to explore the body of the other. They made some satisfied noises.

I sweated more than ever. I was praying that they would not go further. They wouldn’t, would they? I could not imagine Ron and Hermione to do… that. And if they really did, I knew I would not care if I ruined their little moment; I would run off to my bed, and I would never look at Ron or Hermione in the same way ever again.

“God, what are we doing?� breathed Hermione, pulling away from Ron.

He panted. “I don’t know.�

I was slightly tempted to answer the question with a simple “snogging�, but I was too embarrassed to have witnessed the act.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,� said Ron.

“What? This is the third time you’re apologizing this night! One time is a sensation in itself, but three… what’re you apologizing for, anyway?�

“I don’t know! It’s just – I’m scared.�

“Scared? Why would you be scared, Ron?�

“Scared that you didn’t like it.�

Hermione stared at him, before she laughed. “Ron…� She smiled at him, pushing some red hairs away from his forehead.

“What?�

“Ron, I don’t know what to say.�

“S’pose that makes two of us.�

Three of us, I thought quietly. I looked down at my essay.

“Well, perhaps we should get to bed?� suggested Hermione.

I looked up, terrified. So they did think of going further, after all.

Ron gazed at her. “Wh – what?� he stuttered.

“Oh, not like that, you perverted idiot!� said Hermione, flushing. But then she softened. “Let’s not bicker any more tonight.�

“Cool. More than enough for one night, I re – reckoooon,� Ron yawned.

“See? That’s what I meant by going to bed,� said Hermione, smiling slightly at him.

Ron rose up, and petted her head.

Hermione looked at him. “Why did you do that?�

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. A reflex or something.�

Hermione also rose up. “Goodnight,� she whispered, giving him a little peck on the lips. She sent him one last smile before going up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory.

Ron stood there, looking dreamingly, until the sound of a door being closed was heard. Then he slowly made his way into his own dormitory. He shut the door carefully.

I sat there, doing nothing for a while. But then I dipped my quill in the inkbottle, and began to write at the parchment again. I would not give Professor Snape the pleasure of seeing me shuddering in detention. As soon as a certain Granger-Weasley disturbance was nowhere in sight, I found myself being able to finish the essay perfectly well.