Harry blinked. Aberforth? Fang? Animagus? All these thoughts swam in his head as he tried to make proper sense of it. He leaned too much against the door, and he almost fell in. he straightened up to meet the shocked face of Hagrid and the surprised look among Fang's droopy jowls.
"'Arry! Didn't see ye come in there!" Hagrid boomed, and Fang greeted him with a loud bark.
"H-hey, Hagrid," Harry replied shakily, giving him a wavering smile.
"Come on in!" Hagrid ushered him in and sat him in front of the fire.
"Treacle fudge?" he offered, holding out a big pot. Harry shook his head with a "No thanks." Hagrid set the pot down on the scrubbed table and sat down on the overstuffed armchair, nervously clearing his throat.
"So, 'Arry. Snape tells me ye flung a rat onto his head," Hagrid said after a minute of uncomfortable silence, during which Fang looked back and forth between Hagrid and Harry.
"Yeah," Harry answered, looking at Fang, then into the fire. After another uncomfortable minute, Harry took a deep breath, about to let Hagrid know that he had seen the exchange between him and Fang... Aberforth, he corrected himself. As he opened his mouth, Fang transferred back into the old man who resembled Dumbledore so much. Harry was surprised. I have a feeling I have to get used to this, he thought.
"Aberforth!" Hagrid exclaimed, looking fearfully at Harry.
"Its OK, Hagrid," Harry hastily answered. "I already know. I came a few minutes back, and I saw you two talking."
"But..." Hagrid started, to be interrupted gently by Aberforth, who said, "Its OK, Hagrid. Harry should know."
"How do you know me?" Harry asked, turning to the old man who had the same blue eyes as his own Headmaster.
"Albus HAS told me all about you, of course," he answered warmly.
"Albus? You're Dumbledore's brother!" Harry said, realization suddenly hitting him. Aberforth only nodded, a familiar twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
"Yes, Harry. I've been for quite some time now," he answered, smiling. Harry smiled back.
"I've also been at Hogwarts for quite some time. It wad Hagrid's idea for me to stay here to keep an eye on the recent wave of students, especially since the Boy Who Lived was coming to Hogwarts as well. You've outdone yourself these past four years, Mr. Potter," Aberforth complimented. Harry blushed.
"Voldemort's back, so I guess we're back to where we started," Harry replied.
"True, but now he's a little more afraid, even though he's not going to show it, about what COULD happen to him. After last year, exclusively," he answered with an air of confidence just like Dumbledore.
"I understand," Harry replied, nodding. "But, Mr. Dumbledore, why are you wearing Muggle clothes?"
"Aberforth, please, Harry. The Mr. Is reserved for my brother," he responded with a grin, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth. "And as for your latter question, I decided early on to settle in the Muggle world. Much less complications, you understand," he explained. Harry nodded.
"'Arry, you shouldn' tell ANYONE about Aberforth here. He's a secret, understand?" Hagrid warned.
"Yes, Hagrid," Harry answered promptly, while the very thought of letting Ron and Hermione know flashed across his mind.
"So, now that everythin's squared away, there's still the matter of your punishment," Hagrid said thoughtfully.
"It's not fair! Wormtail was in that jar Snape had, and yet he wouldn't believe me!" Harry claimed. Both Aberforth and looked at Harry in surprise.
"Peter? He was here?" Aberforth inquired carefully.
"Yes! Christmas holidays and I found him in my trunk the other day. That's why I flung him out the window. I was panicked, and hoped he'd die in the fall or something. My luck, he lands on Snape's greasy hair," he grumbled, momentarily forgetting whom he was with. Then, he looked around him, blushing crimson and looking at his feet.
To his surprise, Aberforth laughed. Harry looked up, confused.
"That's very clever," he commented.
"It-it is?" he asked uncertainly. He looked over at Hagrid, whose eyes were dancing with laughter.
"Very much so. Now, about Wormtail. Why didn't Severus believe you? Doesn't Peter have a silver paw?" Aberforth wondered.
"Yes, but I didn't see anything silver on him either time," Harry replied.
"Hmm. Voldemort must have done something to hide it so that Wormtail could've done this successfully. Do you know what Severus did with the jar?" Aberforth asked Harry. He, in return, shrugged.
"After he gave me detention, he took the jar and left," he answered.
"Right. Well, I will talk to him about it," Aberforth replied. "Now, Mr. Potter, I believe you have a
detention to get to?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I can't believe everyone's gone up to bed already," Hermione commented, flipping through her Transfiguration notes to make sure she hadn't left anything out.
"WHY does Snape have to torture us every single time?" Ron said as an answer. "I mean, OK. I can get that Wormwood and Nettletail don't mix. But why would it explode when combined with Unicorn Horn?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and got up off the floor to join Ron on the couch.
"BECAUSE," she started, as if this should be common knowledge to every single human, "when combined with Unicorn Horn, the Commutatus Potion turns a purplish color, emitting a foul odor, which in turn can be fatal to the body, AND not to mention cause brain damage. But if you DON'T add Unicorn Horn, the Potion turns a pale green, like it's supposed to. You also don't get the odor, just steam," she finished triumphantly, looking at Ron to see if he comprehended.
"'Mione, you lost me at 'when combined with Unicorn Horn'," he answered blankly.
"Ugh. Ron Weasley, you can be so thick-headed sometimes," she said.
"I know. But you love me anyway," he replied, grinning. She shook her head but smiled and was about to get up when he grabbed her elbow and pulled her back down.
"Ron, what are you..." she was silenced by his lips pushing against hers. She was surprised, but then kissed him back. As she closed her eyes, an image of Harry popped into her mind. Harry, grinning at her. Harry, pulling her toward him. Harry asking her to sleep next to him so he'd know she was safe. Beautiful, sweet, Harry...
She suddenly pulled back, causing a worried frown to play across Ron's face. She smiled to let him know nothing was wrong. The expression eased. He leaned in, but at that moment, the portrait hole opened and Lavender Brown stepped in, her eyes puffy and swollen.
"Lavender! What's wrong?" Hermione jumped up from her seat and rushed to Lavender's side.
"Maria. She - she was moved to Intensive Care today," Lavender managed to get out between sniffles.
"Oh, no! I'm so sorry," Hermione said, hugging the girl to comfort her while she cried on her shoulder. Hermione glanced at Ron and saw that he had a deeply worried expression on his face. She turned her attention back to Lavender.
"Come on. Over here." Hermione guided her sobbing friend over to the couch and sat her down. Ron handed her his handkerchief.
"Thanks, Ron," she said, smiling a little through her tears as she wiped her eyes. Ron felt horrible. He wished there was some way he could comfort her, but Hermione already seemed to be there. So Ron opted for putting his arm around her shoulder. She looked up from the kerchief, and as Ron's eyes met hers, everything around him seemed to fade away. The fire, the doors, the stairs, even Hermione. That's strange, he thought, but that seemed to fade away too. It was only he and the pretty girl before him, in a world of haze where nothing else mattered.
Ron blinked and everything slammed back into its place. Hermione was calling his name, and Lavender's face was buried in the piece of cloth once more.
"Ron! Can you go get a handkerchief?" she asked, looking at him with curiously.
"Sure," he answered softly and rushed off.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You know what I noticed?" Harry said, looking up from his powdered Toya roots.
"What?" Ron asked, concentrating on picking the right leaves for the thick potion already brewing before them in the cauldron.
"Snape is never going to give us a break, is he?" he grumbled, glaring at Snape, who was too busy to notice because he was bullying Neville Longbottom.
"P-P-Professor Snape, I swear I didn't mean for more than two leaves to fall in! Crabbe pushed me!" Neville fearfully stuttered, pointing behind him with a shaking finger, where the big as ever Crabbe was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
"Mr. Longbottom, do you think you can simply place the blame of your immensely stupid mistake on someone else?" Snape retorted in a calm voice. "That is EXACTLY the kind of thing that will get your house points deducted in a situation, such as this one. Thirty points." With that, he stalked down to where Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin girl with a face like a cement block, were glaring at each other, each girl on one corner of the table.
"Well, if you had ground the beetles properly, Millicent, maybe we could have saved all that unnecessary trouble you caused," Hermione snapped. Millicent opened her mouth to retaliate, but as Snape approached them, shut it quickly and turned back to her ground beetles.
"Ms. Granger, I placed you and a Slytherin student together in hopes of you two getting along. But obviously, your big mouth is getting in the way of that. Thirty points from Gryffindor," he said smoothly before moving on toward his desk.
"That's not fair!" Ron suddenly burst out, unable to contain it any longer. Snape turned around to bore his eyes into Ron, one eyebrow raised in surprise.
"What's not fair, Weasley?" he spat, striding back over to where Ron was fuming.
"You can't just do that! Crabbe really did elbow Neville, and you didn't punish him! And Millicent probably didn't grind her beetles right. Hermione was just pointing that out. You only punish Gryffindors!" Ron exclaimed. Snape remained silent, a smirk pulling at the corners of his thin lips.
"Mr. Weasley, I believe you have just demonstrated a very simple Defense Against The Dark Arts ability," Snape finally commended, much to Ron's surprise.
"I-I did?" Ron sputtered.
"Very much so. However, this is Potions class, if I remember correctly. And no matter what class it is, you MUST have been taught to respect your elders," Snape said. "And since you obviously don't have the capacity to catch on quickly, twenty points from Gryffindor and a detention with yours truly tonight." He glanced at Ron a moment more, then strode back to his desk.
"What... but..." Ron was too angry to form complete sentences.
"Ron," Harry cautioned, "don't push it."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
At dinner, everyone stuffed their faces, as they were famished from the day's grueling lessons. Students were chattering about different events, as were the teachers up at the staff table, grinning (or in Snape's case, nodding) to each other and drinking from their golden goblets.
"Seamus, are you OK?" Dean asked, trying not to laugh at his friend.
"For the thousandth time, I'm FINE! JUST because my head and eyebrows are smoking, everyone thinks I'm sick or something!" he exclaimed.
This was it. Dean, Neville, and even Harry, who had been listening to Ron rant, heard this and exploded with laughter.
"Oh, HONESTLY. Leave him alone!" Hermione reprimanded. "You're fifth years! You should know better. You know, this would be a perfect opportunity for me to live up to my prefect duties and deduct some house points." The boys stopped at once. After Potions that afternoon, it seemed like if they lost any more house points, they'd be in the negative range.
Hermione glanced at Ron over the jug of pumpkin juice and frowned.
"Come on, Ron. It's not that bad. And you know, its not like you're a stranger to this," she said in a comforting tone.
"Snape's a git," was all Ron said as he took a huge bite out of his turkey leg.
"Ron, Hermione's right. I mean, if you relax, maybe Snape will go easier on you than he was originally planning to. He's at his worst when provoked," Harry agreed. Ron took a deep breath and sighed, "Yeah. You're right."
After dinner (and a lot of calming Ron down as he kept getting mad every time he glanced at Snape), Hermione went back to the Gryffindor common room and Harry dropped Ron off at the dungeons.
"Good luck, mate," Harry wished as they got to the door. Ron grumbled something incoherent as they went in.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, at least you're punctual, if not attentive," Snape coolly commented as he ruffled papers on his desk. Ron tensed, and Harry put a hand on his shoulder. He felt Ron's muscles relax under it. With a "Bye, Ron. Remain calm," Harry quietly sneaked out of the arctic classroom and headed towards the warm Gryffindor room. When he slipped in ("Pimply Pumpkin Juice"), he felt his body thaw instantly. He sighed in comfort and headed straight to his dorm room, where he quickly but quietly changed into a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, and brushed his teeth. He was about to slip underneath the warm covers when there was a soft knock at the door.
Who is that? Harry thought as he tiptoed to the door. He slowly pulled it open to reveal Hermione wearing a nightgown, her hands on the straps at the waist, and her hair pulled up into a high ponytail.
"What, Hermione? Its late," Harry whispered fiercely.
"I can't sleep," she whispered back. "Let's talk."
Harry ran back to his bed, grabbed the red dressing gown lying there that he had gotten from the Prefects' Bathroom, and slowly walked back to the door, swinging it shut behind him.
"Come on. I want to show you something," she said, grabbing his hand. She led him down the stairs and to the wall on the right in the common room. They walked beyond the armchairs and tables, and came to a stop at the solid wall.
"Treacle Tarts," she whispered. Suddenly, a beautiful portrait of a green meadow, the green grass swaying
gently in the wind underneath a forget-me-not blue sky with fluffy white clouds appeared on the wall. Harry gaped,
utterly shocked.
"Welcome, Ms. Granger," a woman who looked mid-twenties, wearing a crisp white shirt tucked into black pants
that went into knee-high black boots, greeted with a grin as she walked into the picture from the left side.
"Hey, Penelope. This is Harry, the other prefect," she pointed to Harry, who was still gaping.
"Hello, Harry Potter! Welcome!" a stout man with flowing purple robes and a matching hat joined the girl, also grinning.
"H-hello," Harry finally said.
"You may enter. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Penelope piped as the portrait swung open to one side, revealing a marvelous room. Harry stood rooted to the spot.
"Oh, shut up, Penelope," she said, small spots of pale pink appearing on her cheeks. Then, she glanced at Harry and laughed even more.
"Well, come on Harry! Don't just stand there!" she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room.
It was a sight to behold. There was a plush red and gold carpet on the floor, the rampant Gryffindor lion embroidered into the middle. Two two-seater couches were set around it, one across from the huge fireplace and one to the right of it. Gryffindor banners hung on the walls, the crackling flames bouncing off the red and gold and making the lions seem like they were moving.
"This," said Hermione, "is the Gryffindor Prefects' Common Room." Harry stood, taking all of this in.
"How come you never told me about this?" he finally formed a coherent sentence.
"Because you've been so busy these past few days. I didn't know when to approach you," she answered simply, walking over to the spiraling stairs up ahead. She stopped when she realized Harry wasn't following.
"Let's GO, Potter!" she exclaimed, ran back to him, and yanked on his arm once more. That got him moving. They sprinted up the stairs and came to two side-by-side doors. Both had their names written in gold, looping letters across the middle.
"And THESE are our dormitories," Hermione announced.
"Just ours?" he asked, tracing his finger along the letters which spelled out his name.
"Just ours," she repeated. Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside. It looked the same as the other dorms, except this room had more space and only one larger bed. It had a rectangular red banner with the Gryffindor seal sewn into it in gold. The bed, which was perfectly made, had gold pillows and gold sheets, with a thick red comforter. A desk sat on the right side of the room with parchment, quills, and an inkbottle settled on top neatly.
"Wow," Harry whispered as he ventured deeper into the room. He walked up to the bed and ran a hand over the smooth comforter, warmth spreading underneath his fingers as he did so. The house-elves, he thought to himself. He went to the side and plopped down, feeling the wonderful feeling of the warmth coursing through him.
"Harry," Hermione broke the silence. "Can I talk to you?"
"Sure," he answered, patting the space next to him. She walked over and sat in the offered space.
"Why did Snape give you detention the other day? Really?" she asked, looking directly at him. Harry swallowed.
"Um, I told you, 'Mione. I spilled a potion, and it mixed with this other potion, and it was in front of SNAPE," he replied, almost forgetting the excuse he had made up for it.
"Oh, come off it, Harry. You don't seriously expect me to believe that?" she snapped. "What's the real reason? It's me, Hermione. You can tell me," she said, softer this time, placing her hand over his on the bed. Harry hesitated, then realized that she was right. It was not like she was going to go blab it to Hogwarts. So, with a deep breath, he told her about how he had found Wormtail in his trunk, what he had done to the rat, and how Snape had gotten involved. When he finished, Hermione stayed silent, just staring at him.
"Well, say something!" he exclaimed, staring back at her.
"Harry, why didn't you tell me before?" she finally asked.
"Because! Because I didn't want you to keep flitting around and worrying about it. For all I know, Wormtail is locked up in a jar. And Snape doesn't like rats anyway. I didn't want you to worry," he explained, looking down. She put her hand under his chin and lifted it up to meet her face.
"If I worry, that means I'm trying to keep you safe," she whispered. "I don't want anything to happen to you. Ever." He pulled her into a hug, which she gladly leaned into. They pulled back and she leaned against him, her back against his chest. He placed his arms around her waist and they sat in silence. Then, Hermione heaved a sigh.
"What?" he asked gently.
"Ron's been acting strange lately," she commented, tracing patterns on his left knee.
"What d'you mean?" he asked, wondering whether he should mention the incidents with Lavender.
"I don't know. I-I mean, I heard him tell you that Lavender kissed him. And yesterday when her Muggle friend was moved to Intensive Care, she came in crying and Ron had this..." she paused, searching for the right word. "This CRUSHED expression on his face. As if he's the one who'd been hurt. And so I took her over to the couch and we sat, and he put his arm around her shoulder. And I asked him to get her a handkerchief, but then it was like he zoned out. He kept staring at Lavender, and she was staring back. I had to call his name at least ten times before he responded. Is something going on between them?" she asked, turning her neck to look at Harry.
Harry didn't know what to do. Well, technically, Ron didn't tell me not to tell Hermione. And she's hurting. She has a right to know. He's her boyfriend, Harry reasoned with himself. Finally, he told Hermione everything Ron had told him about Lavender.
"Oh," she said softly, sitting up straight. "So-so he fancies Lavender?" she asked, turning around completely to look at Harry.
"I-I honestly don't know, Hermione. I can't figure that out. He didn't tell me anything like that. I..." he stopped as Hermione's face was stained when a single tear dropped from her cheek onto her hand.
"No, no. 'Mione, don't cry," Harry pleaded. She sniffled and wiped the tear away. Another followed slowly. Harry scooted closer and lifted her chin up with his hand, wiping the tear away.
"'Mione, please don't cry. Then, I'll start crying," he warned. She smiled a bit.
"I'm sorry about Ron. But you don't know he fancies Lavender. So until you can prove that, you can't be mad at him," Harry cautioned. She shrugged and wiped her cheeks one more time.
"I guess. Its just that…I don't know if I like him so much anymore either," she answered flatly. Momentarily fazed by her answer, Harry moved to her side and she put her head on his shoulder. He put his head on top of hers, storing that away for later.
"Are you OK?" he asked, lifting his head up and looking directly at her.
"I will be," she answered.
"Besides," Harry shrugged, "if Ron DOES hurt you, I'll kill him before you can do anything." Hermione laughed.
"Why?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Because. I would never let anyone hurt you," he said softly. She put her hand on his cheek. Then, she slowly leaned in and kissed him. He kissed back with just as much force. She reluctantly broke the kiss. Fighting for breath, both looked at each other before Harry toppled her over so he was on top. She laughed.
"Hey, if I get hurt, you're not living up to your promise," she said before his lips attacked hers again. She entwined her hands in his hair while his hands busied themselves running up and down her back slowly. She pushed the thick dressing gown off his shoulder. He lifted his arms enough for her to rip it off and throw it on the floor, before his arms were traveling over her back again. She opened her mouth under his, and his tongue explored every crevice. The chocolate taste made him take in a sharp breath. She pulled away and looked in his eyes.
"'Harry, wait..." Harry started, actually about to protest.
"Ssh." He placed a finger on her lips, then replaced it with his mouth again. Hermione reluctantly accepted and forged on. He slipped away from her soft lips down to her neck. His hands slid across her shoulders, shaking off the nightgown. It joined his on the floor.
He traveled further down, the contact releasing a flood of sensations. Moans burst from her throat. He kissed just
beneath her breasts, then continued down to her flat stomach, where he planted butterfly kisses as well. She arched her
back as his fingers found the groove between her inner thighs.
Her heartbeat became faster by the millisecond. The rhythm drew him on, beating from deep inside of her. She heard heavy raindrops pelt the window, but it seemed very distant. Hermione wanted to tell him to stop, but she couldn't make herself say the words. She knew this was utterly wrong. She was with Ron. She felt the heap of guilt land squarely on her heart. She was not supposed to do this. At the same moment, Harry paused and brought his hands up on either side of her to support himself. He looked at her, fear in his emerald eyes.
"I'm still going out with Ron. I can't do this. WE. We can't do this," she said in a quavering voice, straightening up as best as she could as a distraction to herself. She sat up and Harry leaned back on his knees to give her room.
"I was just about to say the same thing," he said. She nodded in acknowledgement and glanced at the window.
"Wow. It's raining," he commented. She saw Harry yawn and couldn't stifle one of her own. They looked at each other and laughed.
"The yawning chain," he said, and they laughed again.
"Well, it is - " she grabbed his wrist and glanced at the Muggle watch charmed to work in the Hogwarts environment. "- 11:30 at night. You can't blame me!" she replied and fell backwards onto the pillows.
"These pillows are so soft! I don't have pillows as soft as these! Mr. Potter, I believe there is favoritism happening here," she said, grinning.
"Hey, can I help it? I'M the Boy Who Lived!" he lay down next to her.
"You're right!" he agreed.
"As always," she answered, lifting her chin in the air defiantly.
"Don't get cocky," he laughed and pulled her chin back down. She leaned in to kiss him one more time, a soft, lingering kiss, then smiled and turned onto her other side, closing her eyes as she felt Harry curl up against her. She drifted off into a deep slumber, the smile not wavering.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ron switched the Wolfsbane into a fresh jar, then lifted his wand and muttered, "Expurgo Circumiectus", a spell that Snape had taught him to clean and sanitize the jar. He watched with a revolted expression as the germs in the jar came into view, then vanished just as instantly. He sighed and placed the jar with the other clean ones.
"Twelve done, twenty-eight more to go," he counted out loud. He picked up another jar containing a rabbit's foot. Just then, he heard a creak at the door. Assuming it was Snape, he didn't look up in fear that it would cause him ten more detentions. After a few seconds, Snape's harsh voice did not come. Ron tentatively looked up and saw that no one was there, but the door was slightly ajar. Huh. I KNOW it wasn't like that a minute ago, he thought to himself, frowning. He slowly placed the jar down and, wand poised in front of him, slowly walked to the door.
"Who's there?" he asked, voice shaky. He took a deep breath and repeated, "Who's there?" in a louder, steadier voice. No one answered. Suddenly, he heard a soft whoosh behind him. Startled, he turned around to see Lavender Brown standing there with a shimmering cloth and a grin.
"Lavender!" he gasped, letting out a sigh of relief. "You scared me! How'd you get in here?"
"You didn't think Harry Potter was the only one at Hogwarts with an Invisibility Cloak, did you?" he asked coyly, lifting up the material with an index finger. He smiled and walked past her to the jars.
"How'd you know I was here?" he asked, picking up the jar he had placed down.
"I heard you grumbling to Harry," she said, walking over to the table. "And since you're my friend, I thought I'd come see how you're doing..." she looked around at the jars. "Or if you needed help. Looks like you don't," she finished.
"Well, I'm happy at least I get to use my wand to clean these things. In Second Year, I had to clean all the trophies by HAND. And since I had that slug spell on me, I threw up on a trophy and I had to scrub for a half hour before the slime came off," he told her, smiling a little. She laughed, a sound that made a shiver run up Ron's spine and jolt his brain.
"Well, here, I'll help." She reached for a jar, but he swiftly caught her wrist. A jolt went up her hand, and he looked at her. She widened her eyes and pulled away.
"Don't. If Snape catches you, you'll be in a lot of trouble," he warned, not taking his eyes off her. She slowly nodded. After a few minutes of silence, and a lot of cleaning, Ron's arm was sore. He sat down in a chair nearby and groaned, rubbing his arm.
"What's wrong?" she asked, sitting next to him.
"My arm's sore." He cursed Snape under his breath as he massaged his arm gingerly.
"Here. Let me help," she said, grabbing his hand, which sent another jolt through it.
"Why?" he asked.
"What d'you mean, WHY?" she replied as she searched for her wand.
"I mean, why do you all of a sudden want to help me?" he elaborated.
"Because, Ron," she replied, looking into his eyes. The rich pools of blue made her feel like she never wanted to turn away. And there was that feeling. The feeling that she had tried to avoid, but couldn't. The feeling that the Earth dropped off and no one was left but she and he, the two of them, together.
"Because," she started again, forcing herself to look at her wand, "you're my friend, and I care for you. Plus, I'm returning a favor."
"A favor?" he repeated.
"Remember when I was crying because Maria was moved to Intensive Care? You were there for me," she replied simply.
"So was Hermione," Ron said.
"Yes, but you being there made me feel... protected. Safe," she explained in a soft voice. While Ron absorbed this, she raised her wand to his hand while holding his palm. "Ulcero Meliusculus," she intoned, and Ron felt a tingling sensation in his arm and, after a second, it felt a hundred percent better.
"Thanks," he managed to get out. She looked up at him and smiled.
"Anytime," she answered, putting her wand away. After a minute of quiet, Ron cracked it by saying, "How's your friend?"
"She's still in critical condition. I can't believe it. I mean, if she dies, I don't know what I'd do. I've known her my whole life," Lavender replied, her vision blurring. Oh, suck it up. You can't cry for everything, she scolded herself, and angrily blinked back the tears, shaking her head.
"Its OK to cry, you know," Ron said, leaning forward, as if reading her mind. She glanced up at him, and the tears escaped slowly, one by one.
"Ssh," Ron gathered her to him while she cried softly into his chest. He kissed her forehead and rubbed her back, desperate to make her feel better. She pulled back and looked at him.
"Thanks for being here for me, Ron," she whispered, wiping her cheeks of her final tears.
"I'll always be there for you," he whispered back, then leaned in to kiss her, hoping that this would make her feel better. It sure helped for him.