"Eclairs!"

The familiar handwriting sprawled across the page in an unfamiliar way, as if the writer had been daydreaming lovingly about parading desserts, not merely taking notes in class.

Ron stared down at page three hundred and ninety four of Bildred the Brave: One Goblin’s Army, borrowed from Hermione after his copy had an unfortunate encounter with the boys’ washroom. He held it up to the light and squinted, turning it this way and that, but no matter how he blinked at it, eclairs still had nothing to do with Bildred, goblins, wars-–or even wizarding, for Christ’s sake. Ron doubted most wizards, especially British ones, knew that eclairs existed. Ron only knew because of his gregarious fancy for anything dessert-related and his dad’s boisterous fancy for anything Muggle-related. And while it’s true that Ron paid far less attention in class than Hermione, he would most definitely remember any mention of eclairs.

So, he deduced, Hermione likes eclairs. But more than that, Hermione daydreamed during class about eclairs.

Quite an epiphany, all things considered. It blew two known truths out of the water: one, that Hermione didn’t like sweets, and two, that Hermione always paid attention in class, or at least would never stray so far as to doodle in her text book.

Yet there it was.

He quickly scanned the rest of the pages for further references, perhaps different desserts, but disappointingly found none. He sat back in his chair. Just what he could do with this information, he wasn’t sure. But, as Fred and George so sagely advised all who asked, the funniest jokes are simply those with the best timing.

And he smiled.

***

"Hermione, do you ever daydream in class?"

He asked it with an innocent look on his face, as if he had just thought it up to ask whoever would listen. The common room was filled with Gryffindors attempting not to drown in class work.

She looked quickly up at Ron from her potions paper, glanced at Harry, then, with a look of disdain, went back to writing. "Honestly, Ron. I’m only human."

"Is that a yes?" Ron tried to hide his surprise at how easily she answered.

"I suppose." She continued writing and kept her gaze on her nearly-completed scroll.

"An admission of guilt!" He did not, however, attempt to hide his glee at said answer. "Ms. Perfect Head Girl Granger admits to having un-sanctioned thoughts when she should by all logical rules be—"

"Oh, do shut up!"

He grinned wickedly at her, but followed orders, resuming his own Potions paper—consisting thus far of his name and an opening sentence—with a hint of a smile and a plan forming in his mind.

***

"Mr. Weasley?" A faint voice gently tugged at him from afar.

"Mr. Weasley!" Suddenly much closer, the voice yanked a little harder.

"MR. WEASLEY!"

Ron blinked. Professor McGonagall looked down at him over her glasses, her cheeks tinged pink from yelling. "Can you relay to me any topics of which I've spoken in the last forty minutes?"

Ron knew she had him. He gave her his best shit-eating grin. "Absolutely, ma’am-–you told us how to transfigure Brussels sprouts into eclairs." He heard Hermione’s little gasp but resisted the urge to look her way.

He could have sworn he saw a corner of McGonagall mouth turn up in amusement. "Only in your wildest fantasies, Mr. Weasley."

Ron seriously doubted she knew anything about his wildest fantasies.

McGonagall gave him one last glare, then drifted off, continuing her lecture. He let himself slide back into one of his favourite daydreams…something about…eclairs…and the female form…

"Ron! For God’s sake, Ron! Not here!"

Ron blinked. The rest of the class trickled past him on their way out of class. Harry rolled his eyes and stood up. "No need to ask you if you daydream in class. No need to ask what about, either, if that–-" he glanced down pointedly "—and the look on your face are any indication. If Hermione had any idea—"

Ron lunged at him, cheeks red, stupid grin on his face, ready to pelt him into next year—

"If I had any idea about what?"

Ron’s ears started to burn and his mind raced. He quickly attempted to shield himself with his books while giving Hermione an innocent look. She looked at him, blinking. Harry looked from one the other and laughed out loud. "Ron and I were just discussing daydreams–-" Ron shot him a glare "-–and wondering if you would still associate with us if you realized just how often he ignores lectures."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Old hat, honestly." She noticed the book Ron held firmly in front of his mid-section. "Ron? Is that my book?"

He glanced down and reddened further. "Y-yes?"

She looked up at the heavens with a sigh. "Aren’t you done with it yet? The paper was due days ago… "

"Er…" This wasn’t part of the plan. He couldn’t give it back yet…especially right now…"Just…er…gimme a sec." And he dashed off towards the boys’ washroom.

Hermione wrinkled her nose, confusion turning to comprehension. One look at Harry’s grin confirmed it. She flushed slightly, turned her nose up and strode away, muttering. "Unbelievable…ignoring a professor for that…Eclairs…Hmpfh…"