67| decision

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"What the HECK am I supposed to do? Come on, you have brains!" I said pacing and pacing in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, practically giving up on life.

"Huh?" My only audience, Ronald Weasley, replied eating

another

flipping

piece

of CHICKEN.

"Ronald will. You. Stop. Eating!" Hermione shouted after she walked down the stairs, slapping him on the head with a book with every word.

"What!" Ron replied with a mouth full.

"You've eaten too much food." Hermione pointed out raising her eyebrow.

It took a minute or two for Ron to catch on. "Hey are you calling me fat Hermione?" He seemed offended.

Poor Ronald.

"Yes." Hemione, Harry who was walking down the stairs and I said in unison.

Ron huffed and slouched down the sofa, munching on his chicken.

Hermione walked out the common room so I decided to catch up with her. "Hermione, wait!" She turned around.

"Ria are you alri–"

"What would you do if your boyfriend was about to enter the most dangerous tournament of all time and could die in an instant?" I said way to fast.

"Could? Ron couldn't die, he will die." She laughed.

I smirked.

Gotchaaaa, 'Mione.

"Oohhhh, ohhh reaaalllyyyy??" I teased. "So little ole' Ron is now your boyyyfriennndd?" I said as if I was speaking in doggie-talk.

Hermione stopped in her tracks and regained her posture. "Well erm... of course not." She said very confidently.

I smirked.

"Whatever you say." I smiled.

Now all I had to do was figure out a plan.

Great.

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