Authors Notes: Thanks again for the reviews! I love getting them now, they're all so good. I do like to have constructive criticism though, thanks for that Muirnin!
About the whole, Vernon writing as Harry to the order thing, I just figure that he tried to match Harry's handwriting as much as possible. And I'm also figuring that Harry would have wanted to be left alone after Sirius' death, so he didn't want to go to Grimmauld place or whatever. If there's anything else that seems amiss, just pretend it isn't there, k? :p
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry's 10th day in the white-walled hospital wing was dragging on slowly, as he sat there alone with a tray of uneaten pie on his lap. He picked at the pie, looking at it sourly. Remembering the last time he had pie, a couple of days ago, it was Hermione who had badgered him into eating it. In the end he had eaten half of it, with an encouraging smile from Hermione. Now however, it didn't quite taste the same. He didn't have Hermione to share it with him this time, and it made a lot of difference.
He looked out of the window at the grey cotton-wool clouds, wondering what lesson Ron and Hermione would be in right now. He was even beginning to miss his lessons, he'd rather be there laughing and chatting with his friends than in here being forced to eat pie. Sighing, he continued to pick at the pie, his face showing a grimace. Why was it that he could eat it when Hermione was here, but he couldn't any other time? He picked it and put it on the bedside table, thinking that maybe he would try again later.
Just as he'd settled himself down again, the door of the wing creaked slowly open. To Harry's surprise, it was Ron. He checked up and down the hospital wing once or twice, to check for the mad matron, before he made his way to Harry's bed with quick long strides, an angry look on his freckled face.
"How are you, Harry? Happy? Comfortable? Is Hermione looking after you?" He spat viciously, and it was all Harry could do to look confused.
"What do you mean, Ron? Why have you two had a row? She told me the other day but she would say what it was about."
"I would have thought it would have been obvious!" He spat again, and Harry looked on in more confusion. Ron was really starting to worry him.
"I bet you love it don't you? Sitting there, lording it up while Hermione spends every day here looking after you. She doesn't even go to the library anymore, do you know that?"
Harry was silent. He didn't know that Hermione spent all of her time here. He figured that she would at least get some studying in before coming to see him. He felt heartened, yet at the same time guilty.
Ron was standing at Harry's bedside, his face as red as his hair. Harry had never seen him look this agitated.
"You know very well how I feel about her, Harry…" He said, quietly and deadly. "You know that I wanted to ask her out soon. How the hell can I do that if she won't even talk to me?"
Harry looked down at his bedcovers. He felt awful. He did know how Ron felt about her, and he had to admit, he was being selfish. He shouldn't ask Hermione to stay here all the time, especially when it was her studying that was being affected.
"You're… You're right, Ron. I'm sorry. I really didn't realise… I'll… I'll stop her from staying here so often, okay?"
Ron's face softened. Harry could tell he thought there was going to be a scene about this, and he hadn't expected Harry to take it so well.
"Thanks… Thanks, Harry. And… uh…" He looked down at his shoes. "I'm sorry for not visiting you lately. I was so upset that Hermione liked you more than me, I guess… It made me mad at you as well. I was jealous. I'm sorry…"
With that he turned and walked away from Harry's bed, his face burning a darker red than his hair. Before he reached the door however, Harry stopped him.
"Hey, Ron!"
He turned around, a sheepish look on his face. Harry smiled.
"I think you ought to sort things out with Hermione. And you never know, maybe you could ask her out at the same time? "
Ron's face slowly brightened, and he smiled. Nodding his head, he grinned at Harry.
"Yeah, maybe I will. See ya later, Harry."
With that, he turned and left, leaving Harry with a satisfied smile on his face. He lay there for a moment, contemplating the conversation, glad to have his friend back again. Suddenly his stomach gave a great lurch at what he had said.
'Maybe you could ask her out at the same time?'
Why did he say that? Did he want Ron and Hermione to get together? What would it be like if they did? Would she stop coming altogether?
Harry sank back into his bedcovers and sighed. What was wrong with Ron and Hermione going out? He should be pleased for them. He turned over on his side, his eyes growing tired and sleepy. There was something about the whole situation that made him hate the fact that she would be going out with Ron, and he didn't know what it was. He went through millions of questions in his head.
What about their trips together? Would they stop? Harry couldn't bear to think about what would happen to him if they did. Those trips out to the lake were his brief break from the hustle and bustle of the castle, and from Ron. Sure, he loved to hang out with Ron, but if there was something he really wanted to talk to someone about, and he couldn't talk with Ron, he could talk to Hermione on their trips out to the lake. They talked about loads of things, Harry learnt about Hermione's family, and she learnt about Harry as well. They would sit and hug, staring up at the moon if they ever fell into silence. Harry had never been as comfortable as he was in those moments. He felt safe, just him and Hermione, sitting under the stars, not a care in the world. Occasionally, they would look across at each other and smile, then sit closer to keep warm.
Harry remembered Hermione's pretty smile. She didn't need lipstick, or lip-gloss to make her smile perfect, her teeth were neatly straight and aligned, thanks to the hex that Malfoy performed in fourth year. Her lips were red and rosy, no amount of lipstick could perfect that. She had a calm, relaxed smile, not one that was fake, Harry could tell one of those when he saw them. All the other girls used them on him and the other guys when they tried to flirt. Hermione's smile was pure, and genuine. It stretched all the way up her pretty cheeks and into her eyes. You can always tell when a person is genuinely smiling by their eyes.
Harry opened his eyes and blinked, the sunlight from the window momentarily blinding him. He went through again what he was thinking in his head. Why was he picturing Hermione's smile? Why was he so worried that she would go out with Ron? Maybe he was beginning to see what Ron had all along, but to his folly, just a little too late.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hermione trudged into the common room earlier than usual that night, after the usual visit to see Harry. He was more subdued than usual, sneaking glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking and hardly ever talking. She had managed to make him eat a whole pumpkin-pie without fuss, and that was when she started to think something was wrong.
When it started to get dark, he told her to go. She was a little taken aback by this, and slightly hurt. Harry must have seen the hurt in her eyes and told her it wasn't because he didn't want her there, but because he thought she might need to study or something. Hermione was touched by this, Harry even thought of her when he was ill. So she stayed with him for only an hour longer before she left.
She flopped onto the common room sofa, breathless, and stared into the roaring flames in the fireplace. There was something about being with Harry that always left her breathless. She loved being with him all the time, even when they were sitting in silence, she loved him to be there. She had figured all this out that night in bed, after Harry had found out about the row between Ron and herself. She came to the conclusion that she didn't just love being with him, she loved the way he was always compassionate, kind, gentle, always there for her and cheering her up even when it was him who was meant to be cheered up. She loved his handsome face and his messy longish hair, that stuck out in all angles, not in a horrible way, but in a funny, endearing way. She knew he had his fair share of admirers since he'd donned his old, black glasses for steel rimmed, nice new ones. Behind those glasses hid the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen, and she loved them too. She didn't just love all that about him, she loved him.
Just at the moment, Ron burst through the common room portrait, looking flushed and out of breath. He spotted Hermione and caught her eye, although this time it wasn't with a spiteful scowl. Hermione looked back at him, not sure whether to scowl or smile, until he walked over to the chair beside hers and sat down, breathing deeply.
"I've… I've just come back from seeing Harry…" He confessed, fiddling with his robe. He looked up at her and tried to smile. "I'm sorry, Hermione, I shouldn't have taken my jealousy out on him or you."
Hermione was quite surprised to see Ron sitting there and saying that. She had figured he would take a lot longer than this to admit his mistakes and shelve his manly pride. She shook her head, feeling she had some apologising to do herself.
"And I'm sorry that I said those things… about hating you and hating the way you make fun of me. It's not that bad… really… it just… gets a little annoying at times, you know?"
She caught his eye and they smiled. Everything was alright again between them. She moved forward and put her arms around him, hugging him with a friendly smile.
"I'm glad I'm friends with you again, Hermione. You now know how much you mean to me…"
"I know, I know. I'm glad we're friends too."
He broke away, his face looking a tad sheepish. Hermione looked confused. Hadn't he already apologised?
"Actually, I went to see Harry earlier as well, during Divination…" He said, his eyes reflecting a strange glint. "He, uh, actually knocked some sense into me. Not literally of course… but you get what I mean…"
Hermione was even more confused. What was going on here? Ron continued to look sheepish, still fiddling with a patch of his robes that would quickly become a hole if he wasn't careful.
"Um, he suggested, that… maybe… I should ask you out…" His face went darker than his hair and Hermione silently gulped. Harry told him to do that?
Her heart sank, as she watched him struggle with the words. Harry told Ron to ask her out? That could only mean one thing, she told herself, the tears threatening to drop from her eyes. Harry didn't feel the same way. He didn't care about her as much as she thought he did. All those late nights, snuggling under the moon, were they all just platonic?
She turned her attention back to Ron, her eyes threatening to fill up, a solid lump residing in her throat. He looked back up at her, and smiled nervously.
"Hermione, will you go out with me?"
She couldn't stop the tears now. What was the point of holding onto some false hope of Harry loving her, when he told his best friend to ask her out? She would be okay, here with dependable Ron, and she wouldn't have to let him down either, not when they had just made friends again. With a reluctant nod, she gulped, tears running down her cheeks.
"Yes…" She said dejectedly, though Ron did not notice. "Yes, I will."
Ron looked elated, his eyes filling up with a clear happiness, and he leaned in towards her. She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable, with a pang of melancholy in her heart, as their lips met. There was no spark, no dancing angels, no crashing waves or birds singing. Hermione felt nothing. She felt incredibly guilty. She was leading Ron on, but she did love him, only as a friend, but he was her best friend and she couldn't let him down now. Besides, the one she wanted didn't want her, so why inflict the same fate on Ron?
They broke apart, Ron smiling genuinely, and Hermione trying to smile. He reached up and wiped her tears away with his thumb, leaning forward and kissing her lightly on the lips. She laughed nervously, sniffling from the tears. After a moment, she moved away, yawning widely and fake. She stood up, and looked down at Ron with a tearful fake smile.
"It's late, I think I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow, okay, Ron?"
With that, she turned and walked away to her dormitory, where she could shut the curtains of her bed and cry alone in peace.