Ron and Hermione resided in the library hovering over an old decrepit book. Ron looked rather nervous. Hermione sat with her nose in the book, searching up a specific draft.
“Where is it?” she mumbled to herself.
“Hermione?” Ron asked. “Could you”er”not seem like you’re really into this?”
“Could you actually show you know how to dress?” she asked tartly, not looking up.
“It was interesting enough to dress your body. I don’t need to worry about what I’m actually putting on. You didn’t…look at yourself when you dressed, did you?” Hermione didn’t answer. A grin seemed to sprawl across her face. “Hermione?” She turned to see herself with a very serious expression. No matter how many times she sees herself, it’s still just as unusual as the first.
“Is that what I really look like when I’m being demanding?”
“Hermione!” he hissed loudly.
A few students turned their heads and she quickly answered, “Yeah, that’s your name.”
His grave expression morphed to worry, and she rolled her eyes and answered, “No, Ron, I didn’t.” A sharp idea crossed her mind, and she added, “I was too busy watching Harry dress.”
“WHAT?” Ron shouted.
Madam Pince, the librarian, appeared from around the corner and hissed, “Be quiet!”
Ron glanced over at her and shifted back at Hermione. He moved a little closer and whispered, “Did you really?”
Seeing Ron act this nervous always pleased her, but to save him from any more worry, she answered, “No, I didn’t.”
For a few moments, their eyes seemed to lock in place, but reality caught up with them, and they both pulled back. Hermione bit her lip, peering down at the book and turned the page. Ron noticed a few people staring at them and moved closer to read along.
“What are you doing?” Hermione asked.
“You don’t want to lose your reputation as a bookworm, do you?”
She wasn’t sure whether to take that as an insult or compliment, but she smiled either way. Glancing back down at the book, she found the draft she was searching for.
“Here it is!” she whispered excitedly. Ron looked around to make sure no one had heard that.
“What is it?” he asked, fidgeting in his sit.
Hermione read over the contents of the potion, and when she was finished, she sat back and took a deep breath.
“So what does that mean?” Ron asked quietly.
“It means this didn’t switch us,” Hermione sighed. “Your potion had no chemical reaction. That's why Snape had you taste it. He knew nothing would happen to you.”
“I told you I didn’t do it,” he muttered, hiding his hands underneath the table.
Hermione turned, and oddly eyed her body. She watched Ron fidget in his seat, unaware of the other students walking by her.
“What are you doing?” she asked with a disgust expression.
“Nothing…” he answered, freezing instantly.
Hermione looked around to make sure no one was close by, and scooted closer to him.
“Okay, Ron, remember when I asked if you were able to control your unexplainable fascination with my body?” Ron shifted his eyes to the sides, and nodded, “Could you possibly do me one slight favour?”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t”put”your”hands”under”the”table.”
“Hermione!” Ron shouted, and had been interrupted by Madam Pince and Hermione hissing at him. Lowering his voice, he added, “I wouldn’t do that. Especially to you.”
“Oh really? How do you know what I was thinking? Perhaps because you were thinking it?” After finishing her sentence, she realised she’d rather not know what he was thinking. A long silence filled the air until Hermione slammed shut the book. “Maybe we should go down to the Great Hall for lunch.”
They both stood up, leaving the library with Madam Pince immediately rushing to the table they sat at and scurrying off to put the book away.
While walking down the Grand Staircase, two familiar fourth years climbed up the stairs passed them, and the same girl as before peered over at Hermione, who gave the girl a displeased frown. She didn’t intend to bring it up, but as they reached the Great Hall doors, Hermione blurted, “Do you know the fourth year that looked at me?” Ron gazed down at the floor without responding. Noticing the silence, she turned around and annoyingly asked, “You do, don’t you?”
“No!” he shouted. To their advantage, only a few students resided in the room. “Well…a little. She introduced me to herself.” Ron stood staring at his crossed-looking self. “Her name’s Sophie Crichlow.”
Almost losing her words, Hermione stuttered, “O-oh.” Ron gazed in thought at his body, and noticed it twitch a bit.
They sat down at the deserted table, silently eating their plate of food. Suddenly, Hermione’s eyes grew wide, and the fright of just eating something poisoned shown on her face.
“Wawong?” Ron asked as he continued shoving food into his mouth.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full. And…I’ve got to do something.”
“Then do it,” he echoed inside his goblet as he took a sip.
“No, I don’t think you understand. I have to go…”
Choking, Ron practically dropped his goblet, and exclaimed, “What?” Hermione bit her lower lip and looked around. “Don’t bite your lip! That’s such a girl’s thing to do!”
“I’m sorry, okay? It’s a habit I do when I’m nervous. HANDS!”
Ron pulled his hands up from under the table, and sneered, “I’m just wiping my hands.”
“Then use a napkin. That’s why they’re placed next to you.”
Ron childishly grabbed a napkin and frustratingly wiped his hands.
“So what are you going to do?” he asked, expecting to hear what he wanted her to say.
“I’m not doing anything. I have an idea, but we have to hurry, because people will be back from Hogsmeade soon.”
***
Ron and Hermione stood in the empty lavatory on the second floor. Hermione held out a pair of dragon-hide gloves in front of a disapproved Ron.
“Oh no! I don’t think so!” Ron screeched.
“Come on, Ron! It’s your body! Would you rather have me do it?”
Horror struck Ron’s face, and he jumped, “Get in there!”
A little Hermione shoved a tall Ron into the door of the toilet cubicle, and squished inside. They stood a few moments only to hear each other breathing.
“Do you”” Hermione asked, but had been shortly cut off by Ron’s words.
“Trousers down, and look up,” he demanded in common Hermione manner.
Hermione immediately turned her head up to the ceiling and tried concentrating on a specific subject. As she did, she felt Ron help her aim into the toilet, and sickeningly said, “Okay”uh”go.”
She instantly began feeling a great relief as Ron ordered, “We are never telling Harry about this!”
“No, Ron, I thought he’d enjoy this lovely sentiment about you helping me in the loo.”
“Watch your hands!”
Hermione, not noticing her hands were moving close to his, pulled them back and continued looking up. Unfortunately, they hadn’t heard a door opening and closing over the sounds of their conversation, but they did hear a familiar voice.
“Hermione? Ron?” Harry called out. The two froze in place and stayed perfectly still. “Ron, I just heard you two talking. I know you’re in here.”
Hermione looked over at Ron nervousl and bit her lower lip.
“Lip!” Ron hissed in a whisper.
“What are you two doing in there?” Harry asked right outside their cubicle door.
“Um…” Ron began, “just showing Ron another one of my fascinating discoveries.”
“Well let’s see.”
“No, mate, you don’t want to see this,” Ron assured, looking down at what he was holding.
“You two are always hiding things from me. Alohomora!”
“Harry, no!” Hermione shouted.
But it was too late. Ron and Hermione couldn’t move anywhere, and the door swung open with Harry standing with a smile that quickly diminished into a horrid shock. Hermione looked at Harry, down in front of her, and then at Ron and snarled, “Hands!”