Two Sides to the Story

Ron Weasley could feel his ears turning magenta. She was accusing him of being jealous. All he said was, "Heard from Vicky lately?" Four little words, that was all it took for them to begin barking at each other in the Gryffindor common room. But this time, it felt different somehow. It seemed as though it would be the argument that would finally end their friendship. No matter how viciously they fought, they had an unspoken agreement to patrol the corridors together. But tonight, as he tried to follow her for their nightly inspection, she pointed her wand at him and told him to, well, he couldn't remember the exact words, but in effect, she wanted him to sod off.

"Don't be stupid, Hermione! You know you're not supposed to go walking around alone--"

"Oh, so now I'm stupid? On top of every insult you hurled at me tonight, I'm stupid too?!"

"I didn't mean it like that! I'm just saying you shouldn't be alone--"

"I can take care of myself, thanks. Why don't you just go sit with your fan club? I'm sure they'll tell you how tall and handsome and perfect you are!"

"Look who's being jealous now! Stop acting like an idiot and let me--"

"WHAT?! I'm an IDIOT?! Why you--"

Before he could draw breath, she screamed a spell at him, and his entire body was suddenly enclosed in a bubble filled with the smell of a newly-exploded dungbomb. He coughed and spluttered. He tried moving, but the bubble held him in place as effectively as a full-body bind. He tried Finite Incantatem to break the spell, but it wouldn't budge.

"HERMIONE! Let me out!"

"If I'm such a stupid idiot, then you must be a ruddy genius. I'm sure you'll find your way out in no time. Goodnight," she said acidly.

"Hermione!! Come back here, you... you..."

'Goddess, she's a goddess,' he thought. 'Shut up, you,' he ordered his brain. 'This is not the time to adore her. I've got to get out of here! This stinks!'

But he couldn't prevent his thoughts from flying back to the bushy-haired witch who made his life wilder than a cart ride to a Gringotts vault. How could he be deliriously happy with her one minute, furious with her the next? For eight years he tried to find the answer to that question. Only one thing came to mind, and he repeatedly rejected it. He couldn't be in love with her, he just couldn't. It would mean their friendship was a lie. That was unacceptable. He needed her friendship just to be able to breathe. He needed her. He wanted her to stay near him, to smile at him, to scold him whenever he swore, to constantly remind him to study or do his homework or chew his food first before swallowing.

'I'd rather have her hex me than be kissed by another girl,' he grunted. 'WHAT?! HAVE YOU GONE MAD?' he roared inside his head. No, it can't be happening, his brain did not split into two and begin arguing with him. He didn't, he couldn't, he shouldn't... 'I love her,' he finally admitted to himself. He'd lost the battle with his own head. Right, he had finally gone barking mad.

When did she become the most beautiful witch in Hogwarts in his eyes? She must have been beautiful right from the start, but he was just too daft to see it. She was so full of outrageous ideas that actually made sense once he thought about it. For instance, her crusade for the protection of elfish rights finally took off during their fifth year. She was finally able to convince even him that no creature, magical or otherwise, should have to be born into servitude. She argued that if the elves truly wanted to serve, they should at least have the choice of whom to serve, and be compensated for their services. She helped Winky recover her dignity and her sense of belonging to one family by suggesting that she serve the Weasleys. Dumbledore had agreed with her, Winky visited the Burrow and decided to stay, and his mum had been so delighted with Hermione that she gave her five Weasley jumpers for Christmas, one for every year since they started at Hogwarts. Winky became a trusted member of the Weasley family since then, and she was the only one who could keep Fred and George in line, much to the amusement of the world in general.

She was full of contradictions. She hated Quidditch because he and Harry took no thought for their safety when they played. Yet, she was the one who suggested that awards be given for the most valuable player, similar to what Muggles do for basketball, whatever that was. All team members and heads of Houses voted for the player who showed exceptional ability on the field and made the biggest contribution to his or her team. He always voted for Harry and always assumed his best friend would get the award, so it always surprised him whenever he won instead. But she had always believed he deserved it, so he tried to believe for her sake. She was so proud of him for winning the award two years in a row. She confidently told him a dozen times that he would win it again this year, even though Snape and the Slytherins always voted against him.

She loved school; she always wanted to study, to do more than anybody had ever done before, to be the youngest Head Girl to come out of Hogwarts. Yet she was one of the staunchest supporters of Dumbledore's decision to close the school temporarily to strengthen its wards and other defenses should Voldemort decide to attack. That meant being one year behind in their studies. But then, it had to be done so Hogwarts could remain a safe haven. Since they were Prefects, they stayed on and helped with whatever they could. She and Harry took the advanced Dark Arts lessons he'd taken earlier in the year. He remembered feeling that his jaw had dropped to the floor when she asked him for help with a particularly difficult lesson in blocking curses. He also remembered the argument they'd had because of it.

"Just because you think I'm a know-it-all doesn't mean I'm not willing to ask for help when I know I need it," she had said in a maddeningly superior tone.

"If you expect me to help you, don't give me that look!" he had countered.

"What look?"

"That 'I'm going to suffer martyrdom under Ron' look."

"I don't have that look!"

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do!"

"Are you going to help me or not?!"

"Well..."

"RON!"

"All right, all right, I'll help you! I was just teasing."

"Well, stop teasing! This is very important. This could very well save our lives, not to mention--"

"I already said I'd help you! Don't lecture me."

"I'm not lecturing, I'm only pointing out--"

"Yeah, yeah, can we just get on with it?"

"Well, if that's your attitude--"

"Wait just one minute! You're starting to sound like you regret asking me for help."

"I never said that! Maybe you don't really want to teach me, and you're trying to make me angry so I'll change my mind about asking for your help."

"Maybe you're saying you won't learn anything important from me. How can stupid old Ron teach Hermione the super-brain anything, huh?"

"ALL RIGHT, THAT DOES IT!" She pulled out her wand and started to hex him, but he perfectly demonstrated the blocking technique she was having trouble with. That probably made her feel her jaw had dropped to the floor.

'She's always been too smart for her own good,' he chuckled. 'It's so adorable how she won't admit defeat even when it's staring her in the face.' The other part of his brain kicked in. 'STOP THAT! Focus on getting out of here, you git! You can adore her later.' 'Right,' he groaned, knowing that he really HAD gone barking mad.

"REDUCTO!" he bellowed, and the bubble burst. 'Blimey, it worked!' 'Of course it did, I'm a ruddy genius! She said so herself.' 'Pat yourself on the back later! Find her NOW!' He shook his head, hoping it would make the voices inside his brain go away. He dashed out of the portrait hole and ran the length of an entire corridor within seconds. He then ran through the Charms corridor and stopped at the foot of the stairs, debating whether to go up or down. Usually it was Hermione who wrote up the duty roster for the nightly inspections. For the life of him, Ron couldn't remember where he was supposed to go next. He stopped thinking and tried reaching out to her in his mind. After a few moments, he bolted up the stairs, entirely sure he had made the right choice.

He let his instincts guide him through the winding corridors. He tried to walk as softly as he could so he could listen for her footsteps. She was always so graceful, so light. Even when she carried a dozen schoolbooks on her back, she never walked, she glided, she danced from class to class. Whenever he carried her books for her, he had the feeling she would start to float to the ceiling, as if books were the only things anchoring her to earth. Meanwhile, he lumbered around like a three-legged Hippogriff with rheumatism.

He had just rounded a corner when he heard her screaming. He ran as fast as he could towards the sound of her voice. At the end of the hallway, he saw her lying on the floor beside what looked to be -- it looked just like him! But as he came nearer, the body on the floor started to change. It was still his face, but the hair was turning brown and bushy. It was turning itself into his deepest fear, that Hermione would get hurt, or worse... he couldn't bear to think about it. 'Hang on, that's... that's a BOGGART!' He pulled out his wand.

"RIDDIKULUS!" he roared as loud as he could. The boggart exploded into thick gray smoke, then vanished.

"Hermione! A-are you awake?" 'Please say something, anything! You have to be okay, please be okay,' he prayed.

She looked up at him. When she recognized him, he saw a look in her eyes that almost made his heart stop. It was as though he had found her after she had been lost in the Forbidden Forest for a year. "Oh, RON, I thought you were..."

Ron fell to his knees beside her, knowing that if he didn't touch her right then, he would explode. So he pulled her into a tight hug. "'S all right, 'Mione. The boggart's gone now." It sounded so stupid, but those were the first words that fell from his mouth. 'Thanks a lot, brain, shutting down when you're needed.' But it seemed to work.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that to you, I should've listened..." she sobbed into his robes. Although he wanted her to be in his arms, it was unacceptable that she was crying. He had to lighten her mood somehow.

"Shh, it's okay, no harm done. At least you've learnt your lesson now, haven't you?" He gave her a mischievous look and hoped she would get it. She did.

"WHAT?! How dare you, after what you said to me?" There, she was pretending to sound like she was mad, that's a good start. Time for a bit of teasing.

"I dare you to tell me what we argued about in the common room tonight." He tried to make his tone as playful as possible. But he couldn't let go of her, not just yet, even if she hexed him again.

"I... You... you said... I was..." She was speechless. 'Blimey, there IS a first time for everything!'

"Well?" A little grin was in order here.

"Shut up and let me think! It was..." Her voice trailed off. She had no idea how cute she looked when she was confused.

"Aw, give it up. You can't remember, can you? Honestly, I can't remember, either." He smiled at her. But the tears he tried so hard to get rid of were still there, falling from her eyes. He knew he would regret letting her go, but he had to get rid of those damn tears. Slowly, he cradled her face in his hands and wiped away all traces of sadness from her. He was shocked at how soft her skin was.

"Come on, let's get you to the hospital wing." He could only manage a whisper, as it really wouldn't do for him to suddenly croak like a frog.

"N-no, I'm fine. I just want to go to my room." 'Damn! She had to smile! Now my knees are so weak I won't be able to stand,' he almost groaned aloud.

"Are you sure? You're trembling all over. Maybe you need some--" 'What does she need?' 'Who cares what she needs, I want to kiss her!' 'Shut up!' 'No, you shut up!' 'WILL YOU BE QUIET? She's saying something!'

"I'm fine, really. Could you just take me to my room? Please?" As if he could ever resist the plea in her voice.

"All right. Can you stand?" 'Please, please be a little weak so I can have an excuse to help you get to your room,' Ron prayed. Her knees started to buckle under her. 'YES!' He caught her up, tucking one arm under her knees and steadying her upper body with the other. She looped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

His insides were all jumbled up by now; he tried to ignore the somersaults his heart was doing inside his stomach. But, by Godric Gryffindor! He was going to help her get to her room if it was the last thing he ever did! And somehow, he managed to carry her all the way.