Hermione Granger and the Time of Troubles

Hermione fervently hoped that her roommates had the good sense to stay the hell away from their room for several hours. Or perhaps for the rest of the night. Or perhaps for the rest of their lives. Hermione didn't think she was going to stop pacing around the room anytime soon; she honestly didn't remember ever being this furious before. But pacing wasn't going to accomplish anything; she had to calm down and think. She forced herself to sit on her trunk at the end of her bed, her left fist unconsciously lightly beating the lid of the trunk. She really shouldn't have let the situation build like this. She had bottling up her irritation with Ron for weeks and now she had made a fool of herself by finally blowing up at him in front of the entire common room.

Hermione sighed. Why did everything have to be such a mess? As much as she hated to admit it, Ron's statement to her in that fateful conversation by the lake the last night of fifth-year had been correct: everything was fucked up. And now it was starting to affect the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Don't cry, don't cry, she chanted to herself as her eyes started to burn. Crying wasn't going to accomplish anything. She had to think of a way to fix things; she had to discover exactly what had gone wrong between her and Ron, and she had to fix it, because if she couldn't make things work with Ron, then...then...Hermione closed her eyes in frustration. She couldn't even finish the thought.

But then again, it wasn't as though they had a real relationship. A relationship was having a companion that you could tell your deepest, darkest secrets to, not keeping the companion a deep, dark secret. She and Ron still hadn't told a soul about the latest development in their relationship, and she was frankly rather sick of it. They had had "the" talk over five months ago; it was about time that people learned the truth. It wasn't as though they wouldn't approve--most people had been telling her for ages that she and Ron should be a couple. But for some reason, every time she brought up the subject of telling someone, Ron always changed the subject or tried to distract her. Hermione blushed; Ron's distraction ploy often worked quite successfully.

And if the secret-business wasn't enough stress, Hermione had to cope with Ron's newfound ego. She had always wanted Ron to develop some self-esteem and realize what an amazing person he was. She had told him constantly how wonderful she thought he was, but it hadn't been enough. It was only receiving a more than satisfactory number of O.W.L.s, developing into quite a good Quidditch player, and abruptly receiving a great deal of attention from the female population of Hogwarts that boosted Ron's self-esteem to a healthy level. But now Hermione reckoned that Ron had overdosed on confidence; she rather thought his head was getting too big for his broomstick.

So she had stopped complimenting him all the time, and that had only made him accuse her of not caring anymore, which was the most ridiculous thing Hermione had ever heard. Honestly, she would always care about Ron, and she was only trying to do what she thought was best for him. But it seemed like every time she tried to help Ron, it only made matters worse.

This frustration had finally reached a peak when she had to sit and watch all the Gryffindor girls hang on his every word for over an hour. She could understand Ron talking to some other people about the match, and she was very happy that he had played so well. It was just that--well, he could spend some time with her. He had barely talked to her all day, and now all he wanted to do was continue to talk about bloody Quidditch?

Hence, she had finally erupted. Hermione had to admit that breaking the butterbeer bottle had been rather melodramatic and immature, but he had just made her so angry. Honestly, treating her as if she was some small child trying to tell him what to do and he was just placating her by pretending to follow her orders. Ron was a prefect just like she was, and he knew the rules just as well as she did, and he should have known that he should keep the volume down. And then he had given the butterbeer to her as though he wanted to get her intoxicated. That had been the final straw--he knew how she felt about alcohol, and yet had practically forced the butterbeer down her throat. Granted, butterbeer had a very low alcohol content, but still. She had known what he had meant, and it still was incredibly insulting. It was as if he thought of her as just some giggly girl who he could get to snog in a closet, and if she was tipsy, he would have a better chance at getting some action.

Hermione winced as she pressed a hand to her chest which was burning faintly, vague whips of the curse she had received compliments of Antonin Dolohov. She still received chest pains whenever she got extraordinarily upset or frustrated. Madame Pomfrey had told her the pain would recede over time and eventually dissipate all together, but Hermione wasn't so sure. The nurse had also said that Ron's scars would heal, but they still burned rather vividly on his arms. Ron had had to wear long-sleeves all the time in order to hide the welts. He was still rather embarrassed by them, and Hermione didn't think even Harry knew how bad his injuries still were. But then again, Ron was the only one who knew about the occasional throbbing she still endured.

A few deep breaths helped dispel the aching, and Hermione dropped her hand away from her breastbone with relief. She didn't have time to get caught up with the annoying flares of spasms in her chest. She had to find a way to fix things with Ron.

Things had started out so well. She and Ron had written to each other almost every day, and after three weeks of separation, Ron had finally invited her over to the Burrow. They had had three days to themselves, and those three days had been the happiest in Hermione's life. She had actually felt like a normal teenage girl who was hanging out with her boyfriend. They had made a pact not to talk about Voldemort, the war, or even Harry; they only focused solely on each other. Hermione had fallen in love with Ron all over again in those three days, and she knew it was a time that she would never ever forget.

But it only lasted for three days. Harry had arrived on the fourth day--he had received permission to visit the Burrow for his birthday--and all attention had immediately gone to him. Not that the shift in attention hadn't been justified; stated mildly, Harry had not been well. He had not been well at all. She had thought that Cedric's death had had an awful effect on him, but the loss of Sirius had sunk him to an all-time low. The moment she had seen the empty, darkened look on his green eyes, she knew he was in trouble. He hadn't really spoken to anyone, and although she had been relieved that Harry was no longer snapping at her, she had wished that he would at least talk to someone. But anyway, Harry's presence had been the reason that Ron hadn't spent more than two seconds with her, because he was such a great friend. Ron had stuck by Harry, and had even managed to elicit a couple of smiles and laughs from him. Ron was just what Harry needed at that point, and Hermione had been grateful that Ron could be there for Harry, especially at his birthday. The only problem was, Ron had been what she needed too, and she had wanted to spend some time with him, especially since she knew that that week would be the only opportunity to see him until September 1^st.

Hermione grimaced again, but this time not with pain, but with annoyance. Her parents had become rather infuriating this past summer, it seemed. Perhaps it was because she spent so much time away from home and she was used to being independent, but her mum and dad, as much as she loved them, just were so aggravating. Not that Hermione blamed them; she had been rather vague with her answers to their insistent questions about term and school. It was apparent that she was hiding something from them, and Hermione's parents were just as determined as she was. But luckily, Hermione was equally as stubborn as her parents, and refused to yield. She was not going to tell them about Harry and Voldemort, because she knew if she did, she would be pulled out of Hogwarts and shipped off to some Muggle boarding school. And she couldn't leave Hogwarts; she belonged in the magical world, even if it was being torn apart by war and hatred. This was her fight, and she'd be damned if her parents tried to keep her from contributing to the cause.

But she was under age, and if her parents refused to let her to return, she had no choice but to obey; that was the law. So it was best just to keep them in the dark and let them think that she was involved in some trivial, typical teenaged transgression.

The tension between her and her parents had reached a boiling point when she had received Ron's letter inviting her to the Burrow for a week. The letter had caused quite a row; her parents had always made clear that she could choose her own path and live her own life, and whatever she chose, they would be happy for her. However, that didn't stop them from making it very clear what they thought that path should be. And the path they wished their daughter to take included two things: medical school and Jeremy Bateman.

Jeremy Bateman had been her childhood friend who had lived three doors down from her until she was eight when he had moved to Grantham. They had remained somewhat close until she had left to attend Hogwarts; after that, her life had changed so drastically for the better that she had no desire to return to her old life. Besides, Jeremy hadn't changed a bit since their childhood days, and that irritated Hermione to no end. She just wished he would grow up, and a get a life of his own; he was still following the plans that his own parents had laid down for him which included medical school and Hermione Granger.

This meant that during some point in the summer holidays, Hermione was forced to endure a torturously long tea with the Batemans in which her parents and his parents watched her and Jeremy intently for a sign of affection between the two. They were always disappointed; as much as Jeremy wished to please his family, there was too much awkwardness between them that he hadn't the courage to make a move. And Hermione was prepared to slap him if he ever did finally muster up the nerve. It was rather disappointing that her friendship with a perfectly decent boy like Jeremy which had been shaky ever since her attendance at Hogwarts was now completely ruined. There was too much discomfiture to rebuild anything now.

Jeremy Bateman was the primary reason why her parents hadn't wanted her to come to the Burrow. July 31^st--Harry's birthday, coincidentally enough--was the planned date for tea with the Batemans. Hermione wasn't disappointed in the slightest which had led to her mother making some innuendos about Hogwarts completely changing her daughter's priorities, which had led to Hermione retorting rather rudely. It had come out that Mrs. Granger never felt comfortable with her daughter's involvement with the magical world that she knew nothing about, and it hadn't help matters that in the middle of the row, Hermione had to stop and sit down for a minute due to a slight relapse of the curse that Dolohov had used on her at the Ministry in June. Hermione had not told her parents about being injured again, and the news had upset her parents quite dreadfully. Her mum had tried to use the injury as further evidence about Hogwarts becoming a poor influence on her, but Hermione defended Hogwarts with such defiance and ferocity that her father had steered the conversation back to Jeremy. Her mother started trying to make her see how good of a catch Jeremy was, and Hermione had struck back with a list of her best friend's attributes and why Ron and Harry were ten times better than Jeremy. Harry's list had lasted for a few minutes, but Ron's had gone on and on, so long that her father had started looking frightened, and her mother had stared at her in shocked realization and asked her point-blank if she was in love with Ron.

And without hesitating, without realizing what she was saying, Hermione had answered "Yes."

The answer had surprised her as much as her parents. She and Ron had agreed to keep their relationship a secret, and she hadn't told a soul, not even Ron, about just how much she cared for him, and here she went blurting out the news to the two people she was keeping a load of other secrets from. But it had actually ended up being a good move on Hermione's part; her parents assumed that that had been the reason their daughter had become so evasive about her previous term. The tea with the Batemans had been canceled, and Hermione had been allowed to go to the Burrow. Her father seemed resigned to the fact that his little girl was in love with a wizard, but Hermione knew from the way her mother's lips were firmly pressed together that the matter was far from over; she may have won the battle, but the war for her parent's approval was still raging on.

So after Harry's birthday, both she and Harry had returned to their respective homes for the remainder of the summer. She and Ron had continued to write to each other constantly, and Ron's letters had been the salvation of the summer. Her parents were still quite upset and confused about Hermione's revelation, and there was an awkward feeling that perpetually permeated the atmosphere of the Granger home. It was a relief for all of them to head to King's Cross on September 1^st--hopefully, the old adage would hold true and absence would make their hearts grow fonder of each other.

Hermione had been rather upset that she had left things with her parents so unresolved, and remained silent during the prefect meeting on the Hogwarts Express. A bittersweet smile crossed her face as she remembered how Ron had been the only one who noticed, and how he had handled the situation.

**

September 1^st, 12:25 p.m.

"Hey, hang on," Ron said lightly, putting a hand on Hermione's elbow as she attempted to violently yank her trunk down the narrow corridor. She was having a bit more trouble than usual since she had brought a great deal of books on Defense and it didn't help matters that her hair kept flying in her eyes. "Let me get that."

"Oh, thanks," Hermione responded distractedly. She tossed her hair out of her face and watched as Ron with ease pulled her trunk. A frown crossed her face as she realized something. "Where's yours?"

"Right in here," Ron kicked open a compartment door. "Come on then."

Hermione obediently followed him into the empty compartment, the frown still creasing her features. "I thought we were going to find Harry and Ginny?"

"We will," Ron reassured her, dropping her trunk with a thud. He plopped down onto a seat and held out his hand. "Come here." Hermione walked over, and the frown started to fade when Ron gathered both of her hands in his. "Now what's wrong?" he asked with such gentleness that Hermione felt like crying. It had been a long time since she had heard a loving tone of voice.

She had to hesitate for a moment to collect herself, in which Ron used the opportunity to guide her into the seat next to him. She automatically shifted to face him, bringing up one leg to tuck under the other. Ron kept one hand laced in hers, but the other went to carefully tuck some of her wild hair behind her ear to keep it out of her face. That hand came to rest lightly on her knee, and Hermione smiled for the first time in what seemed like years. She wished she didn't have to ruin such a tender moment with her problems.

"Ron, what if someone..." she stalled, glancing over her shoulder at the glass door. If anyone walked by, they would be clearly seen in a very un-friend-like position.

"No, don't worry about it," Ron said firmly. "I'll take care of it. Just tell me."

"It's silly." Hermione continued to hesitate, preferring to focus on Ron's hand on her knee.

"Tell me," Ron insisted.

Hermione sighed and finally relented. "It's my parents."

The grip on her fingers grew sharply tight. "What happened? Did something..."

"Oh, goodness, no!" Hermione broke in, knowing exactly what Ron was insinuating. "No, they're perfectly fine." Hermione paused again.

"You mentioned that you weren't getting along with them," Ron commented helpfully.

"Yes, well, that was a bit of an understatement," Hermione said with a single, bitter laugh. Ron didn't respond to the sarcasm and simply waited for her to continue. "You see, Ron, I haven't been entirely honest with them. I--I haven't told them much about what really goes on at school."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, I told them that the reason I was in the hospital for two months in second-year was because of an accident in Transfiguration class," Hermione explained. "And they think that my injury from the Ministry was from falling off a broom." She could feel Ron's shocked eyes on so she kept hers down on the seat cushion. "And they have no idea who Voldemort is."

"Hermione," Ron said after a long silence, "you have to tell them. They have to know about the danger you all are in..."

"No, Ron, they can't!" Hermione protested. "They'll pull me out of Hogwarts, I know it!" Ron looked like he wanted to retort, but due to his lack of argument, just sputtered incoherently for a few seconds. "I hate lying to them, Ron, but I have to. I'm under age, so I have to do what they say. It's the only way I can stay at Hogwarts." With you, she added silently in her head.

"What does this have to do with you not getting on with them?" Ron asked.

"Because they know something is wrong, that I'm not telling them everything," Hermione clarified. "And they've asked me flat out what's going on, and I won't tell them, and that upsets them." She didn't want to bring in the Jeremy Bateman situation into the conversation, because after all the Viktor Krum spats she had dealt with, she didn't want to add Jeremy to the list of potential rows. "So we didn't part very well--and--you know, with everything like it is..."

"You want to be on good terms with them," Ron finished sympathetically for her.

Hermione nodded painfully. "You know what I sometimes wished," she admitted to the cushion. "I wish that my family was a bit more like yours."

Ron sighed with commiseration. "Oh sweetheart," he said under his breath, smoothing hair out of her face once again but this time keeping his hand on her cheek so she was forced to look directly at him. "You don't want that: do you really want a Fred and George?" Hermione let out a little laugh. "Because I'll give them to you, gladly," Ron continued. Her laughter grew a bit louder, and Ron smiled in relief before growing serious again.

"Look," he said firmly, "you're going to be seventeen in a few weeks, right?" Hermione nodded. "So then you'll be of age, and at Christmas holiday, you can sit them down and tell them everything."

"But Ron, they're going to be so upset," Hermione protested.

"I know," Ron continued, "but you're going to feel better once everything is out in the open. And if they're still worried about you, you can just tell them that nothing is going to happen to you as long as I'm around."

Ron said this so matter-of-factly, as if he went around telling girls he was going to protect them until his dying breath everyday. It was just so natural for Ron to take care of her, and Hermione, as self-reliant as she was, liked Ron taking care of her a lot more than she cared to admit.

"And if they are really upset," Ron counseled, "just give them time, and they'll get over it. They're not going to want to do anything to risk losing you."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed shakily.

Ron studied her for a minute. "And if you still feel bad, write them a letter now."

"What?"

"Write them a letter," Ron repeated. "Tell them that you're sorry things are the way they are, and you promise to fix things when you see them again."

"That's a good idea," Hermione said with surprise. "Have you always been this brilliant?" she asked with a hint of jest.

"Nope," Ron replied with a grin. "Must be your influence on me."

Hermione smiled; how did Ron always know what to say to make her feel better? "What would I do without you?" she whispered fondly.

Ron's ears burned red with pleased surprise at her statement. His hand was still on her cheek, so he gently pulled her towards him so their lips touched. Hermione's eyes instinctively closed, her heart singing. It was the sweetest kiss she had ever had; usually her and Ron's kisses were products of pent-up angst and frustration at hiding how they felt from each other, or as it was at the Burrow, from Ron's family. Those kisses had been passionate, intoxicating, and just plain fun. But this...this was different and although it wasn't "fun" per say, it was simply blissful. It was soft, sweet, gentle, and it was amazing how lips could express how Ron felt towards her. She could tell that he was worried about her, he needed her just as much as she needed him, and he would do anything to make her smile again. He was going to stick by her no matter what, and be her shoulder to cry on no matter how trivial her worries were. It made her feel loved, protected, and safe, and in a world that was currently being torn apart of war and hatred, these moments were rare and few in between.

It didn't last very long, much to Hermione's disappointment, but it was enough to see a glimpse into the very core of Ron Weasley. "Wow," she commented quietly.

"Yeah," Ron said thickly, appearing to be just taken aback as she was. Apparently he didn't know he had that in him.

"We need to do that more often," she continued.

"Fine with me," Ron's hand was in her curls again. "Feel better?"

"Yes," Hermione smiled a shade tearfully, but this time, the tears were of delight.

"What?" Ron looked anxious. "What is it now?"

"Nothing, nothing," Hermione reassured him. Ron didn't look convinced so she felt the need to elucidate. "You just reminded me how lucky I am."

The wide, dopey smile that spread across his face warmed Hermione's heart to the very core, thrilled to be the cause of such a sincere grin. "That's what I'm here for."

**

Well, Hermione thought as her fury came rushing back despite the tender scene she had just recalled, Ron Weasley was certainly here for other reasons. Such as irritating the hell out of her. Honestly, she didn't know how she could one minute, be so head over heels in love with the prat, and then the next minute, be so hacked off at him that she was ready to spit nails.

Oh, you know why, the voice at the back of her head mocked. It's because you are in love with that boy that you get so angry with him. It's because you care so much. Hermione sighed; okay, so she did know why she got so upset with her prat, but that didn't stop it from hurting when they did argue. She had been worried about this ever since their relationship had started. This had been their first major row since "the" talk, which rather surprised her. She would have thought actually that they would have fought by now. Sure, they had their petty squabbles on a daily basis because some things never change, but other than that, no major complications had arisen until now.

Because you haven't been honest with him, the voice nagged again. You've been hiding how you really feel, and now it's come back to bite you in the ass.

Hermione frowned. Why did that damned voice always have to be right?

She hadn't been entirely honest about Ron in more than one area, which she hated even more than lying to her own parents. She hadn't told him about Jeremy Bateman. She had said it was fine that they hide their relationship when it really wasn't. And she had never told him that she loved him.

Hermione knew that lying was never to be condoned, but she honestly didn't see any other options for these situations. Ron would only get jealous and suspicious if he heard that her parents had as good as promised her to another boy. He would get upset if he discovered that she had been lying this entire time about how she really felt about the whole secrecy element to their relationship. And as for the love thing, well, Hermione didn't think Ron's emotional capacity had developed enough to handle those three little words. She would just wait until he said them first, no matter how long it took, she wouldn't tell him until he was ready to hear it.

The thing was, she thought he was ready, or at least, he was close to being ready. Most of the time, they acted as though everything was the same because there were always people around. But there were moments, when they were alone, that were absolutely amazing. It was a lot of snogging, but they did talk, and it was the talks that Hermione thought about when she fell asleep. Granted, she usually ended up dreaming about more snogging, but that was beside the point. Ron acted differently when it was just her and him; he didn't put up the tough-guy front, he was just Ron. He was more relaxed, more himself than she had ever seen before, and she loved that side of him, and she loved that he felt he could share that side of him with her. But now she was ready for the next step: showing other people how they felt about each other. She wasn't saying that they should start snogging in front of the entire common room for heaven's sake, but they could hold hands or something as innocent as that.

She had tried talking to Ron about it a few times, but it just hadn't worked out very well. In fact, she had tried just a couple days ago, and although she had made some progress, in the end, he had refused to relent.

**

November 12^th, 4:36 p.m.

"Ron?" Hermione tentatively asked. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, love," Ron said easily.

Hermione leaned her head back so she could look up at him. "Why haven't we told anyone yet about us?"

Ron sighed, trying to salvage the peaceful moment they had been having. "I'm just not ready." He pulled his arms tighter around her, hoping that she would snuggle back into his chest.

But once Hermione's curiosity was aroused, there was no turning back. She sat up, leaving the comfort of Ron's arms and twisted around to face him directly. "Why?"

"I can't really explain it, love," Ron tried again. "You just have to trust me, okay? We'll tell everyone when we're both ready."

But I am ready, Hermione screamed silently in her head. But the words that came out of her mouth were very different. "When will that be?"

Ron groaned slightly as he pushed himself up to a full seated position. She and Ron had been lying on the stone floor together in their usual spot. She often had come up to the Astronomy Tower during her time at Hogwarts if she ever needed to get away and think; she had even used it in fifth-year as a study location for O.W.L.s. Ron had one time followed her up here in fourth-year, so when they had needed a discreet location to meet and talk, they had both agreed on the tower. They often came in the late afternoon when classes were over for the day and before dinner was served, in which they told Harry and others that they had prefect duties. Today, Hermione and Ron had just survived a massive Potions test, and needed to relax. Ron had lain down on the ground, his head and shoulders leaning against the wall, and Hermione had curled up at his side, her head resting against his chest. This was her also her favorite way to be with Ron. In this position, he had the freedom to hold her close, play with her hair, or just touch her in some way. Whatever he decided to do was fine with Hermione; just being near Ron gave her such a thrill that even someone as loquacious as Hermione Granger couldn't express the sensation in mere words.

But she was out of his reach now, and she wouldn't let him touch her until she was satisfied. He leaned his head and back against the wall and tried to make her understand. "I don't know," he admitted, "It's--it's just complicated, Hermione, and I've got to sort some things out first before we go public, ok?"

"What sort of things?" Hermione pressed. "Maybe I could help," she added hopefully.

"You can't," he said firmly.

Hermione's face fell; she couldn't help him or he didn't want her to help him? "But I like to help," she said crestfallenly.

Ron scooted forward so he could place a comforting hand on her arm, but she pulled out of his reach. He sighed slightly, somewhat expecting this. "I know you do, love," he said. "But I've got to do this on my own."

"Can't you at least tell me what it is?" Hermione pleaded.

Her eyes met Ron's, and for a fleeting second, she thought he was going to give in and reveal everything. But Ron Weasley was just as stubborn as his girlfriend, and he eventually shook his head. "I'm sorry, love."

Hermione looked away. Ron could call her "love" all he wanted, but it didn't make up for the fact that he was keeping things from her. It seemed like that he almost didn't want to tell anyone that they were dating or whatever you called what they were doing. Was he ashamed of the fact that he fancied the smartest but definitely not the prettiest girl in their year? She knew she should muster up her Gryffindor courage and ask him flat out, but she couldn't for the same reasons she didn't tell him for two years how she really felt. It was that blasted fear of rejection that was eating away at her, and by refusing to tell anyone about them, Ron was slowly eroding her self-esteem away.

"Hermione?" Ron rested his hand on her calf and damn him, she couldn't bring herself to pull away. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Hermione said after a long pause. "Just--just promise me we'll start telling people soon?"

"I promise," Ron said instantly.

"I--I just don't like lying to people," Hermione continued.

"I know you don't," Ron said soothingly.

Hermione sighed. She knew that Ron didn't mean to hurt her, which made it even harder to tell him that he was. The prat just didn't understand.

**

Maybe that was part of the problem, Hermione reflected. She wanted him to understand, she wanted him to learn what upset her, what she liked, what made her blood boil. She wanted him to learn who she was inside out and be able to anticipate what to do instead of counting on her to guide her through the relationship process. Honestly, she knew she was intelligent, but she wasn't omniscient. He could help her out every now and then. She certainly helped him, for heaven's sake. She helped him with his lessons, prefect duties, she had even gone as far as started watching Quidditch practices for moral support.

And of course, whenever Ron had really needed her, she had been right there.

**

October 18^th, 4:58 p.m.

Hermione felt Ron slip into the chair next to her and she looked up from her book to give him the smile she reserved specially for him alone. "Hi," she said brightly. That's when she noticed the irritated look on his face. "What is it?"

"He is such a bloody git!" Ron burst out angrily in such a loud voice that the few prefects who had already gathered in the meeting room whirled around to stare at him. Hermione just shot them a warning look, daring them to say anything before focusing on Ron.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked again. Ron brandished a letter he had clutched in hand with a pained expression. "Bad news?" Hermione bit her lip at the thought; Voldemort was attacking Ministry officials, what if he had turned on the Weasleys?

"Nothing like that," Ron said quickly, knowing what she was thinking. He tossed down the letter he had just received with disgust. "It's Percy again."

"He's still not talking to your parents?" Hermione asked sympathetically.

"Nope," Ron said grimly, "But then again, once a git, always a git."

"What did he want?" Hermione asked. She casually glanced down at the letter, although there was nothing she wanted more than to grab the parchment and start reading. Ron would have just snatched the letter away by now if it were me, Hermione thought with a mixture of impatience and amusement.

"He wants to meet me tonight," Ron snorted with disbelief, "He says," Ron picked up the letter so he could quote from it, "that since I have neglected to respond to his correspondence for the past several months, he has no other option but to resort to more drastic action." Ron threw the letter back down on the table towards Hermione, nodding at her to let her know she was invited to read it herself, which she quickly did.. "I don't believe him. You'd think that since the Ministry has admitted that You-Know-Who is back, and that our own father is the bloody Minister of Magic himself, that Perce would be first in line to kiss up to get a promotion, but he's just as horrible as ever!" Ron leaned back in his seat, and some of his outrage seemed to drain away into bitterness. "Mum cries about him all the time, you know."

"I know," she whispered. She kept her hand hidden under the table to no one would see that she was rubbing Ron's thigh reassuringly. "So are you going to meet with him?" she inquired quietly.

"Bloody have to," Ron grumbled, "Can't have him just waiting for me outside the castle, he'll probably come inside to find me and start terrorizing first-years with his 'how to gain power in thirty days' speech or grill them about the thickness of their cauldron."

"Well, maybe he's changed, Ron," Hermione suggested. "Maybe he's trying to mend his fences."

"Hermione, what the hell are you talking about? He wants to talk to me and Ginny, not build some bloody fence."

Hermione bit back a smile--Ron really needed to learn to use some Muggle phrases. "What I'm trying to say is that perhaps he's seen the errors of his ways and is attempting to make amends."

Ron frowned as his brow furrowed. "I guess," He sighed heavily. "Right," He took the letter back, and instead of tearing it up like he usually did with Percy's letters, he placed it carefully in his school bag. "Well, looks like I'm seeing dear old Percy tonight."

"Could I have your attention please?" McGonagall announced as she swept into the room. "This meeting has come to order."

Hermione turned her attention to her favorite professor but that didn't stop her from stealing glances over at Ron ever few seconds. She noticed that almost every time, he was glancing apprehensively at his watch. He must be really nervous about this meeting with Percy.

"So, are we all understood on the remainder of your duties for the term?" Professor McGonagall inquired while rolling up the parchment that had the agenda for the day scrawled onto it. All of the prefects nodded. "Then you're dismissed."

Hermione got to her feet and slung her bag over her shoulder. "So are you going to meet Percy now?"

"Yeah," Ron said heavily, "He said he'd be outside on the Front Steps at six o'clock."

"Is Ginny going to meet you down there?" Hermione asked as she spotted the fifth-year prefect follow the other Gryffindor prefects back to the tower. Ron had to go in the opposite direction, and she had stopped to talk to him before he went to see his brother.

"She's not coming," Ron said in a low, hollow voice. "She doesn't want to see him."

"Oh," Hermione bit her lip. She hated that Ron's family, the one family that she had viewed as perfect ever since she had first met all of them, was deteriorating like this, all because of Percy. Ron sighed as he raked his hand through his hair and fiddled with his own school bag. She could tell that he was just trying to procrastinate having the long over-due conversation with his brother. He's really dreading this, she thought sympathetically. She wished there was something she could do to make him feel better. "Do you--never mind."

"What?" Ron asked sharply.

"It was just a silly idea I had," Hermione told him, "It's nothing."

"Come on, tell me."

"No, go meet Percy."

"I'm not going until you tell me."

"Ron, don't be ridiculous. Go on, you're all ready late."

"Cut the shit, Hermione, and tell me!"

"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

"Fine!" Hermione snapped, "I was just going to ask if you wanted me to come with you, but that's silly since you'll want to talk to him alone, so forget..."

"Would you come with me?"

Hermione stared at him in shock. "But--but, this is a family affair, and I'm not..."

"Oh, come on," Ron grabbed her by the elbow to pull her along. "You practically are family, and you know it. Percy always liked you best, he'll be glad to see you."

"Percy always liked me?"

"Oh, yeah, he kept going on the summer after our first-year how I managed to make friends with a sensible girl with a good head on her shoulders who would keep me out of trouble and blah, blah blah..."

Ron trailed off as they reached the Front Doors. He looked even more nervous as he hesitated.

"Maybe you should run tell Harry that you're coming with me," he said abruptly.

"I thought you wanted me to go with you, now you want me to leave?" Hermione asked with raised eyebrows.

"I'll wait for you," Ron said quickly, "Better yet, I'll go with you."

"Ron," Hermione said with a touch of impatience. "Harry's in Occulmency lessons right now, remember? We don't want to interrupt that!"

"Oh, right," Ron said distractedly.

"Stop putting this off," she said firmly, "The sooner you go, the sooner you get this over with."

"Right," Ron said, straightening his shoulders and taking a long breath. He was poised, about to open the doors, when he stopped, grabbed Hermione's hand, and only then did he push the doors open. Percy was standing on the front steps, his back to them. He turned at the sound of the hinges creaking, and smiled grimly. He was exactly as Hermione remembered: tall and lanky like Ron, but with more drawn features, horn-rimmed glasses, and curlier crimson hair.

"'Lo, Percy," Ron said evenly. "How've you been?"

"It's good to see you, Ron," Percy returned in the same tone of voice. He nodded formally to Hermione. "Hermione, always a pleasure."

"Hello, Percy," Hermione returned. "Ron asked me to come along, I hope that's all right."

"Where's Ginny?" Percy asked.

"She's not coming," Ron answered.

"Why?"

Ron hesitated for a moment. "She's got extra Chaser practice tonight. She sends her love though."

"Oh, all right then," Percy looked distracted and Hermione used the opportunity to give Ron a reassuring smile and squeeze of the hand. That was really sweet that he hadn't told Percy that Ginny really didn't want to see him. Ron returned it slightly before focusing back on Percy, who was speaking again. "I was hoping that we could walk this way," Percy gestured in the direction of Hagrid's hut. "I met Hagrid in Hogsmeade, and he offered his hut to us."

"Um, okay," Ron shrugged. The three of them started off towards the cozy hut in silence. "Er--what was Hagrid doing in Hogsmeade?"

"He wanted a nightcap at the Three Broomsticks," Percy said in a tone that revealed his disdain for the Hogwarts groundskeeper. "Honestly, he should have more self-control, especially on a school night."

"Perce, if you want to get on my good side, I would recommend not insulting one of my friends," Ron snapped.

"Ron," Hermione said softly, pulling slightly on his hand. "Don't. Hear him out."

"Thank you, Hermione," Percy said patiently as they reached the hut. He stopped at the doorway and turned to face the sixth-year prefects. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the couple holding hands, but he didn't respond. Hermione fully expected Ron to throw her hand away, but he continued to hold tight. "Now, I was wondering if you could do me a favor, Hermione." Hermione waited expectantly. "Do you mind waiting out here so Ron and I could speak privately."

"Of course," Hermione said profusely.

"No," Ron said flatly at the same time.

"Ron, go on," Hermione told him. "He wants to speak to you alone, that's fine."

"And you're just going to sit out here by yourself alone?" Ron snorted in disbelief. "I don't think so."

"Ron, this is Hogwarts," Hermione reminded him. "I'll be all right." She gestured to her bulging school bag. "I've got some Transfiguration reading I need to do."

"Maybe you should just go back in the castle, Hermione," Percy cut in, putting a hand on Ron's shoulder. She noticed absently that Percy was one of the few people who could do that--Percy was still an inch taller than Ron as of right now. "Ron and I won't talk for too long, he'll be back in a bit."

That did seemed like the sensible thing to do--she could do her reading in the library instead of worrying about Ron. But then again, she'd just end up sitting in the library worrying about Ron anyway. She hesitated, considering following Percy's suggestion.

But then her eyes met Ron's. They were wide, anxious, angry, wary...full of so many emotions...damn it, why did she always yield to him whenever she saw that pained expression on his face.

"No, Percy," Hermione finally spoke up, "I'll wait for Ron out here." She raised her eyebrows at Ron. "Okay?"

Ron nodded begrudgingly. Percy looked equally peeved that she wasn't leaving but he nodded as well.

"Fine, stay then," Percy stated with a touch of impatience and curtness. "This shouldn't take too long." He opened the door to the hut with a quick Alohomora charm and held it open for Ron. Ron walked in without a word, but not without another quick squeeze of the hand. Percy practically slammed the door behind them.

"Good luck," she whispered. She just hoped that Ron would keep his anger in check and not do or say anything he'd regret later on. Sitting down on the stoop, Hermione pulled her heavy Transfiguration textbook out of her bag and opened it to the appropriate chapter. She knew that she wouldn't retain too much of the information and she'd probably have to reread it, but she wanted to make the effort anyway.

Ron wasn't in for long; he walked out about ten minutes later looking confused, upset, and annoyed. Hermione jumped to her feet, still holding her Transfiguration book. "How did it go?" she asked quietly.

"I--I--I don't even know," Ron stuttered. "I mean--I can't even think straight--I'm just..."

"Okay, okay," Hermione said quietly, dropping her book down on top of the satchel so she could take Ron's hand. "Let's go for a walk."

"Yeah," Ron agreed heavily. He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder as they walked away from the hut. "Percy's cleaning up or some shit like that--I don't want to be there when he--you know?"

"I know," Hermione dropped the grip on his hand so she could wrap both her arms around his arm, leaning her head against his shoulder. This made it a bit difficult to walk, but that really didn't matter at all. Ron needed to know that she was there for him. She remained quiet until he let out a sigh. "How are you feeling?"

"I have a headache," Ron said abruptly in response.

"Okay," Hermione lifted her head and looked about. "Here, come sit down," she led him over to the beech tree they had studied under. Ron dropped down onto the ground and Hermione sat next to him, not sure how physical he wanted her to be at the moment. Sometimes, when he was so worked up, he didn't want to be touched and just needed to pace. But now, Ron just appeared infinitely exhausted. He raised his knees up so he could rest his head against them, and Hermione tentatively rubbed reassuring circles on his back.

He sat there for several minutes, in which Hermione wondered if he was actually crying. He finally grabbed the arm that was still stroking his back. She froze immediately. Ron turned his head to look at her.

"Promise me something?" he asked hoarsely.

"Anything."

"Never leave me?" he asked in a strangely lost, desolate voice.

Sympathetic tears sprung into her eyes at the raw need evident in Ron's eyes and voice. "Wild hippogriffs couldn't drag me away."

Ron seemed satisfied with her answer, and just stared off for a moment. Hermione watched him in confusion; what was bringing this on? Ron shouldn't be this upset with seeing his brother. Perhaps this was just the final straw in what was already a stressful year with N.E.W.T. level classes, worrying about Harry, Voldemort's reign of terror, and whatever else that was going on in Ron Weasley's mind. Ron was just such an empathetic person that he took on people's problems and he hated being angry with people; his misery when he had been when he had been fighting with Harry in fourth-year was a testament to that. Ron was coping with not only his personal battles, but Harry's, hers, Ginny's and anyone else that he cared about. He wanted to help everyone, but he couldn't and that frustrated him to no end. Hermione knew the feeling well; she often had it herself. Ron wanted to make up with his brother, but he was so stubborn that he wouldn't until he was satisfied that Percy was truly sorry for what he had done to their family; not only that, Percy had insulted his best friend, and Ron wasn't going to let that go easily. Hermione knew that Ron missed his brother terribly, and this meeting had to be difficult for him. She had no idea that it would be this draining on him, making her suspect that something had occurred in the hut that she didn't know about.

"Ron?" she asked timidly. "What happened?"

"I--I don't..." Ron looked hopelessly confused as if he was trying his best to articulate what had occurred, but had no idea how. "He just kept talking, but I don't know what I said, but I must have said something, but I just don't remember, it was all a blur, Hermione, I--I just..."

"Okay, okay," Hermione stopped his rambling by scooting closer to him. She would have touched him in some comforting way, but he was still gripping her forearm for dear life, as if he let go, he would spiral down to some hopeless, dark place and never return. "We don't have to talk about it now." Ron nodded and looked down. "Do you want to go back inside?" Hermione offered.

"No, not yet," Ron said immediately. He looked at her. "I want--to..."

"Yes?"

Ron didn't answer, but just yanked on her arm so he could plant his lips roughly on hers. If Hermione had thought the kiss on Hogwarts Express had shown all he felt for her, she had been dead wrong. That had been sweet, loving peck compared to this; that kiss had shown all the tenderness, affection, and blissful love he felt for her. But this, this was raw, intense, extreme, passionate, eye-opening, jaw-dropping, stomach-churning, oh-my-goodness-I-can't believe-someone-feels-this-way-towards-me. This was the uncharted depths of Ron's voluminous emotions, this had to be the great capacity of emotions that he felt because if he felt anything deeper, Hermione would think he would combust. It was intense, unadulterated, unconcealed, unrestrained, blatant need. If Hermione ever doubted that Ron Weasley needed her, all she had to do was remember this moment, this kiss.

And it wasn't just a need to have her in his life, to have her there to comfort him, but it was also a need that every teenage boy has. There was a definite need there to explore the secrets of her body, to know every single part of her inside and out. And for the first time, Hermione felt truly desired; although she certainly wasn't ready for this part of a relationship, she now knew that someone wanted to transcend to that level with her and her alone.

As amazing as that feeling was, it scared her. It scared her quite a bit, but at the same time, it felt so good. So it was an obvious effort and great deal of willpower that Hermione pushed Ron away and averted her head to avoid his lips, because she knew if kissed her again, she wouldn't stop.

"Whoa," she said, quite out of breath. "Let's slow down a bit, shall we?"

"Uh, yeah," Ron quickly clamored to his feet so Hermione could stand. "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking..."

"Don't be," Hermione cut in, rebuttoning her shirt and glancing over at the doorway to Hagrid's hut to make sure the half-giant hadn't returned and caught an eyeful. "I got carried away myself."

"I don't know what came over me," Ron apologized again.

"It's fine," Hermione insisted, shaking her head to free the leaves and twigs that were now ensnared her tangled locks.

Ron didn't say anything as they walked back to the hut to retrieve Hermione's satchel. She slung it over her shoulder, checking to make sure that her Transfiguration book was safely tucked inside. She looked up to find Ron watching her.

"What?"

"I just--thank you," Ron said earnestly.

Hermione smiled as she stepped down off the stoop. "That's what I'm here for."

**

Hermione sighed. No wonder she was confused. There were truly blissful moments that proved why she was in love with the git, but there were also times he did ignore her. She knew some of it was the act he put up in order to ensure no one suspected that they were indeed together, but sometimes she wasn't so sure. Like tonight, he had walked over to her and Ginny, she had told him good match, he had said thanks, and walked away, straight towards the third-year girls who all fancied him. She didn't understand it at all. And everyone knew that Hermione hated not understanding things.

She let out a long breath before finally rising from the trunk so she could pull out her pajamas. She was going to get some sleep, and tomorrow she was finally going to do what she should have done a long time ago. She was going to right up to Ron, take him aside, and tell him that either he start telling the truth about their relationship or there would be nothing to tell. They would remain friends as always, but no more snogging, late afternoon talks, or any of that. They would go back to how things were before.

Hermione hesitated at the thought; she didn't think it was possible for things to go back after she experienced a brief glimpse at a relationship with Ron, secret or not. But she couldn't go on living like this. As happy as Ron made her when they were alone, he needed to start making her feel that way in public. If he wanted to be with her, he couldn't hide her from the world. It wasn't fair.

So that settles it then, Hermione thought briskly with a knot of impending dread in her stomach as she hopped into bed and blew out the candle.

Tomorrow she and Ron were going to have another "talk".