What's the Use of Wondering?

Hermione Granger sat on a red velvet chair in the Gryffindor Common Room, leg tucked up under her bottom and a thick book forgotten on the chair's arm. She winced slightly at the noise level. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had won the match against Ravenclaw spectacularly, and without Harry's assistance; she supposed they deserved a bit of a celebration. She wrinkled her nose as the team drank butterbeer from the House Cup. She seriously hoped none of them was ill. With exams coming up, this would be a horrible time for the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team to share a cold.

Ron was now holding the cup, and Hermione tried valiantly not to look at his lips as he tossed back the last of the butterbeer. The battle was lost before it had ever even begun. Their friendship had begun to heal when Ron was in the hospital wing after what Hermione referred to in her well-organized mind as "the poisoning incident," but things became awkward again once Ron and Lavender had officially broken up. Gone was the easy friendship the two had once shared, and Hermione was unsure as to whether or not it would ever return. The most she could call it now was an uneasy truce. Ah well, she thought, you just can't attack a boy with a flock of canaries and expect things to carry on, business as usual.

Her gaze rose from Ron's lips, and she saw that he was staring at her. Hermione grew red with embarrassment. She was caught! Ron had caught her staring at his lips. Of course, she had caught him staring at her as well, so maybe that meant they were even. She raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a glance which she hoped passed for nonchalant boredom. He winked at her, and turned around to talk to Seamus. Hermione picked up her book and sighed.

Why does he have to make me feel this way? she thought. Butterflies in her stomach, exhilarating highs one minute and depressing lows the next- these were very un-Hermione-like emotions to be experiencing. She didn't like it, not one little bit. Except you do she thought scornfully. Part of you enjoys that he makes you squirm like this. You are one sad woman, Hermione Granger.

The portrait door swung open, and in climbed Harry, a look of apprehension in his eyes. The noise level in the room, already at ear-splitting level, got even louder as everyone began clamoring to be the first to tell Harry they won the House Cup. Those closest to the entrance grabbed Harry's arm, dragging him into the common room.

"We won!" yelled Ron, showing him the silver House Cup. "We won! Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!"

Hermione smiled at Ron's wild enthusiasm. It was one of the things she loved about him. She winced inwardly. Did she really just think "love" about Ron Weasley? Yes. Yes she did. She watched with amusement as Ginny ran towards Harry and threw her arms around his neck. Her jaw dropped to her chest when she saw Harry kiss Ginny hard. Hermione's heart gave a funny little leap.

The entire room seemed to fall silent as Harry and Ginny kissed... and kissed... and kissed. Surely they had to come up for air eventually? What would it be like if Ron kissed me like that? thought Hermione wistfully. Hermione beamed at her best friend, and her other best friend's sister. It was about time they figured this out! She glanced over at Ron. He was now grasping the House Cup so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was staring at his best friend and sister liplocked in the common room and looked for all the world like someone had just performed an exceptionally strong confundus charm on him. Finally, Ginny and Harry parted, and they both looked at Ron as if they expected the worst. Ron seemed incapable of any meaningful conversation, but finally gave his head a little jerk. Harry and Ginny seemed to take this as tacit approval, and turned around and exited the Common Room to the sound of catcalls and whistles.

As the portrait swung shut behind them, the occupants of the Common Room turned their gaze to Ron. Aside from a few nervous giggles, everyone seemed immobilized by what had just happened, waiting to see what might happen next.

"Oh, for pity's sake" muttered Hermione. "Reparo." A flick of her wand, and the glass that Dean Thomas had shattered when Harry and Ginny kissed was returned to its original state. "Ron?" she asked tentatively, putting her hand on his arm. The contact brought him out of whatever spell he had been under.

"Ginny. Harry. Kissing." he said disjointedly, making a vague sort of motion towards the portrait where the two of them had just exited.

"Yes, Ron, we all saw it." said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Come over here and sit." She led him to the sofa, giving a pointed look to several second-years who were sitting there. They hopped up and Ron and Hermione sat down.

"You all right?" Hermione asked, with an amused expression on her face. He didn't answer, but continued staring towards the common room entrance. "Yoo hoo! Ron!" She waved her hand in front of his eyes. He snapped out of his reverie and looked up at her, confused.

"Wha...?" he sputtered ineloquently.

"Are. You. All. Right?" Hermione asked again, deliberately emphasizing each word as if she were speaking to a rather slow toddler.

"I... well. I..." He looked at her with a helpless look on his face, and she couldn't help but feel like she wanted to rescue him. "I don't know. On the one hand, he's my best mate. I want him to be happy." His eyes narrowed. "On the other hand, that's my baby sister he's snogging." He sank back into the sofa cushions, utterly dejected.

Hermione peered at him intensely as if she were studying a difficult arithmancy problem. What was this all about, really? He was such a loyal friend, and a fiercely protective big brother. She could see where he would feel caught between the two. But there was something else there, too. She couldn't quite place it.

"Ron," she said gently. "What are you worried about, really?" He looked up at her and made a snorting noise. "Honestly, Ron, use your head and think for a minute. Do you really think Harry would hurt Ginny? Or that Ginny would let Harry, you know, push her into doing anything she doesn't want to do? She'd hex him into next week!" Ron chuckled. "So," continued Hermione, looking at him with concern, "what exactly is the problem here?"

Ron heaved a deep sigh that seemed to come from the very core of his being. He looked up at Hermione, blue eyes locking with brown. Hermione almost gasped audibly. For a brief second, there was nothing else- not Harry, nor Ginny, nor even Quidditch. It was just the two of them in the middle of a crowded, noisy common room, staring at one another. Ron took a heavy, steadying breath, and then spoke.

"It's just that... well, this changes everything. It's always been you, and me, and Harry. Now it's Harry and Ginny, and what if they break up? What if it ruins everything?"

Hermione looked up at Ron. He looked so confused, she just wanted to wave her wand and make it all better, but this was one problem that even Hermione Granger couldn't solve. She sighed.

"Things change, Ron," she said gently. "It's just part of life, especially our life. Things are too uncertain for things to stay the same." She looked at Ron, and could feel the unease pouring off him. "Really, Ron. Ginny and Harry are a good thing. You can't expect people to never change, just because it might make you uncomfortable." Again, they looked into each others' eyes, the rest of the House forgotten. Hermione was shocked by all she could see in Ron's eyes- his worries, his concerns, his fears. Then she had a disturbing thought. If I can read all that so plainly in his eyes, what is he reading in mine? She quickly looked away, feigning sudden interest in the golden swirls on the crimson carpet.

"Hermione?" Ron questioned, reaching out to touch her arm, and Hermione was suddenly afraid of what he would say next. She stood up quickly.

"Look," she said, "There's no sense wondering about what's going to happen. All you can do is wait and see, and be happy for them. All right?"

Ron looked up at her and seemed ready to say something. He caught himself, and took a deep cleansing breath instead. "All right," he replied. "I don't suppose they're going to be back any time soon." He glanced towards the entrance to the Common Room. "Would you be willing to help me with my Potions essay."

"I'll help you," said Hermione firmly, reverting back to a role she played well, "but only help. I'm not writing it for you."

"I wouldn't dream of asking you to," Ron answered with a smile. "I'll just nip up and grab my things."

Hermione watched his back as he ascended the stairs. There's no sense wondering what's going to happen, she thought to herself. All you can do is wait, and see, and hope that in the end you'll both be happy. She picked reached over and picked up her book from the chair arm, and settled herself back against the sofa, leg tucked under her bottom, and waited for Ron.