"Oh sure." Ron said, letting out a rather large breath that he didn't know he had been holding. Why did he always get like this around Hermione? He wasn't twelve years old... girls should not make his palms sweat and his stomach flutter. He always felt like he had butterflies in his stomach when Hermione was around (completely manly and ungirly butterflies, mind you).
"Yeah, go find Harry. Give him the good news." He agreed, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he'd had since he was a kid.
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