I'm avoiding Harry too, now, after what happened in the Three Broomsticks.
Why didn't I just ask for a drink? Why didn't I make small talk rather than trying to fix Harry? I'm always trying to fix him and now look what's happened. Why the fuck did I open my leg and invite him to put his hand in deeper? What was I thinking?
And what was he thinking by doing it?
I feel like a proper slag. I really do. A cheating, lying, two-faced, back-stabbing slag. A bit harsh considering I only let a boy touch my trouser-clad leg, I know, but that's how I feel.
Ron's angry with me for rushing off after Harry rather than spending time with him yesterday. I can't blame him because I can see it from his point of view. He doesn't say anything about my hair. Not that I expected him to. I could have walked into the common room green and with boils oozing puss and he would have ignored me.
I sit down next to Ron. I watch the first years and think about how massively different Hogwarts is from their perspective. They're coming into a school that's still under repairs, and repairs mean that secret passages generations of students have put to good use sneaking about the castle in the dead of night are being sealed off.
I suspect a couple of those passages have just magically moved over a little and some clever boy or girl will find it again. The longer a spell lives, the more it becomes aware of itself until it takes on a kind of life of its own, and there are enchantments on Hogwarts that are literally hundreds of years old.
"Want to go to the lake?" I ask.
"No."
"Come on, Ron. I didn't want Harry to be alone."
"I know, and you didn't want to be alone with me."
"That's not true."
"How long have we been together?" Ron asked quietly, so that others in the common room can't hear, even if they're trying to listen.
"Almost six months."
Ron nods, as though that says it all.
"What?"
"You don't want me. I get it."
"If you think that then you really don't get it."
"What's holding you back, then?"
"Can't we have this talk somewhere else?"
Ron looks thoughtful and taps his foot on the floor, biting a nail. After a long pause he says, "Meet me in the Head Girls' study in two hours. Wear something nice."
"I'm not supposed to have anyone in there," I say nervously. "Especially my boyfriend."
This inspires a naughty grin from Ron. "I know. If McGonagall catches us, we're in big trouble. Exciting, yeah?"
"Yeah," I say without enthusiasm.
Two hours seems to arrive in five minutes, and I meet Ron in the common room wearing the shortest skirt and tightest blouse I own, which from me is still a fairly decent, tasteful ensemble. Still, the outfit hugs my curves better than anything else I own, and it's above the knee and a little snug.
Ron apparently likes it, the way he's smiling at me.
Harry's surrounded by giggling girls, fifth years, all vying for his attention. He's gotten quite good at dealing with them, but for now his eyes are moving over me, from head to foot and I feel myself flush. Harry's never looked at me like that before. He smiles until his eyes stop on mine. I think he sees the panic I'm feeling because he starts frowning.
Maybe Ron just wants another wank. He's been without me when he does it for almost a week now. He takes my hand and looks at me like I'm the only girl in the world as we walk out of the portrait hole and down to the Head Girls' study on the second floor.
I love my study. It has a personalized library of every book I could possibly want. They check themselves out from any magical library in Britain when I need it, and then I return it to the shelf where it goes back to whence it came when I no longer need it. Most of the time, though, the Hogwarts library has what I need for my studies. There's also a large desk and a comfortable leather chair for me to sit in, a fireplace of my own, a divan near a set of bay windows that look out on the lake, and a house-elf that services me whenever I want, always unseen, though. The carpet is so plush I often don't wear shoes. Right now the study is decorated in the red and gold of my house colors.
I gave Ron the password at the start of the school year, and the door opens for him when he says it now. He'd been in here already, apparently, working very hard on creating a romantic environment. A house-elf had delivered dinner, served up on silver trays. Soft music played in the background, the fire roared warmly with large, soft pillows placed close to it for relaxing later. Floating candles lit the room well enough to see, but not much more.
"Ron…I'm impressed!"
I start to relax. This is so much more than I expected. I thought he just wanted to drag me in here for the shag that I'm still not ready for, but this is truly romantic.
"I'm glad you like it. Ginny gave me a few decorating pointers."
I start to relax during dinner. How on earth Ron managed to get a house-elf to get us smoked duck with portabella mushrooms I'll never know, but it was delicious. As we ate, I began to realize how nice making up could be. Ron is a good boyfriend and I feel so much affection for him. I want to be an equally good girlfriend, and I know I'm failing at it. I'm just not sure how to give him what he needs without doing something I'll regret.
That affection deepens a little with the second glass of wine. I'm actually a little excited to move next to the fire and lie down next to him, but at the back of my mind I can't help but worry about one of the professors, or even the Headmistress, walking in on us.
"Want to make up?" Ron asks. He can be so suave when he wants to be. I think he's been reading up on this, actually, and I find that sweet.
[Edited. Click here to read this deleted scene]
I stand up to face Ron. Well, I don't really face him; I just stand there fighting back tears. He surprises me with a quick hug.
"Do you love me, Hermione?"
"Of course I do. You're one of my best friends."
I know I've said the wrong thing when Ron stiffens against me.
"I'm one of your best friends?"
"Well…yes."
"That's it, Hermione? I'm one of your best friends?"
"It's not like you say you love me all the time, Ron."
"Why do I need to say it? Isn't it obvious?"
"Sometimes I wonder if you really love me or if you just want someone to shag."
"Just want someone to shag? I can't believe you…Merlin's pants!" Ron shouts. He throws his hands up in anger, looks around for his tie, grabs it, and then stalks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Ron, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"
He's gone. He's just left me crying in the middle of the room, and I collapse on the floor pillows, curled into a ball. I don't know how long I'm there but I feel the carpet give behind me as someone kneels there.
"Are you all right?"
It's Harry. Immediately I jump up in embarrassment. My knickers are out in plain view.
"Did he hurt you?" Harry asks.
I'm offended by the question. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry! Ron would never hurt me."
"What the hell else am I supposed to think? I hear shouting, Ron storms out, and I find you crying on the floor with your knickers off!"
For a moment I'm stunned, not to mention embarrassed by what Harry may have heard. "Have you been outside the whole time?"
"Yes! You looked scared when you left the common room so I followed you."
"This is none of your business, Harry! You shouldn't follow me like that. You shouldn't skulk outside the door spying on me and…"
Being completely honest, I'm more embarrassed than angry. I know Harry means well, but he's invading my privacy, he's standing too close again, and frankly I'm just miserable.
"I'm sorry. I was only trying to look out for you. It's what you and I do, Hermione. We look out for each other no matter what."
"Ron's safe. You don't have to look out for me with him. Can you give me some time alone? I need to tidy up in here."
Harry looks around the room, takes in the candles the dinner leftovers, the wine, the mess Ron left on the floor, and my knickers in my hands, and I swear his eyes look hard with jealousy.
I can't help it…
I like the look of jealousy in Harry's eyes.