Footprints

It was the most fascinating thing Neville Longbottom had ever seen.

Seriously.

His roommate, Ronald Weasley was over six feet in height, thin, but fairly muscular in build, with bright red hair. And he was ramming himself against their dorm room wall. Repeatedly. Two of Neville’s other roommates, Seamus Finnighan and Dean Thomas, sat next to him on his bed, also staring at their fiery-haired comrade as he indulged in some mild masochism.

The door opened, and another young man walked in, his black hair messy. He blinked behind his thick, black glasses.

“Ron?” The redhead didn’t stop. “What?” “Why in the hell are you flinging yourself against the wall?” Ron didn’t reply.

Neville looked up. “Hi, Harry.”

Harry Potter’s green eyes glimpsed Neville, Dean and Seamus, and he nodded. “What the fuck is this about, then?”

“He’s had an epiphany,” Seamus replied in his thick Irish accent.

“Oh?” Harry asked.

Dean nodded. “He woke up this morning and realized that he loves Hermione.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he thought about this for a long time. Eventually, his solemn expression lightened and his lips curled up into an extremely amused smile. He laughed. “Ron!”

“What?” Ron growled, throwing himself against the wall again.

“You love Hermione!”

The taller boy didn’t reply.

“Why are you losing brain cells?!” Harry asked, still laughing.

"Because I’m trying to make it go away!”

This only made Harry laugh harder, which made Ron stop hurling himself against the cold stone. “What’s funny, then, ay?” he asked with a glare.

“You!” Harry howled. “You can’t make it go away! An’ it’s been there since fourth bloody year. If you haven’t gotten rid of it by now, it’s not going away.”

Neville looked from one boy to the other, and eventually just stared at Ron. ‘For one of the war’s greatest figures, he can be thick as-’ and then it hit him. Ron wasn’t thick. “You’re scared,” Neville said, obviously surprised.

“Am not!” Ron cried, sitting on his own bed with a thump. "I’m terrified!”

“Tell her,” Harry said gently. He’d finally stopped laughing.

Ron’s eyes grew to twice their normal size as he stared up at his best friend. “No!”

“Why not?" Dean asked. "What do you have to lose?"

"My dignity!" Ron cried.

"What dignity?" Seamus asked with a smirk.

Neville snickered. "He has a point, Ron."

Ron glanced at Neville and sighed. "Right, then, let's have a vote. All those who think I should tell Hermione I love her?"

All four of his roommates raised a hand each. Ron kept his down.

"All those opposed?" Harry asked.

Ron timidly raised a large hand, and sighed in defeat.

-------

"Hermione?"

She whirled around, as she walked through the halls, on her way to the library, her curly brown hair swinging with her. "Oh! Ron! Hi!" she said with a smile. "Where are you off to?"

Ron paled. "I'm… going to get some food… thought I'd… catch up with you a bit before you buried yourself in the library…"

Hermione blinked. "Is something wrong, Ron?"

"I-I… uhm… well…"

"Ron, if you've got something to say to me, just say it," she told him.

"HermioneI'minlovewithyou."

The silence was deafening. Ron thought he was going to throw up then and there.

Her mouth opened, and she looked as if she was going to say something, but nothing came out, so she closed her mouth.

'Bloody hell!' he thought. 'I found the one thing in the entire world that will shut Hermione Granger up! I should have thought of this years ago!'

Finally, her words came back to her. "Ron…"

He nodded. "Yes?"

She looked around desperately, and pointed behind him. "Look! Quidditch!!"

On instinct he whirled around. "What?! Where?!"

When he turned back around, she was gone, and the swinging doors to the library were swaying back and forth.

------

Neville blinked at Ron from across the Gryffindor table at lunch that day. "She… she ran away?"

Ron nodded, poking at his food. He had yet to actually put any of it into his mouth, which was not only uncommon, but worrying, as well.

"Well, fuck me silly and call me Shirley," Seamus muttered.

"This is all your fault, the lot of you!" Ron cried, pointing his fork to each one of his roommates. "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have even said anything about it! I'd still be up in our room, ramming myself against the wall!"

While his logic was flawed, Neville could see how ramming ones self against a wall was a little more appealing than being ran away from by the girl you'd just said the magic/dreaded words to. "She's scared, too," Neville reasoned.

Harry sighed. "Bloody hell… you two are impossible, do you know that? I have been bending over backwards for years trying to get you two to either leave each other alone, or just snog and get it over with. I'm sick of it."

"Harry… she ran away," Ron repeated, emphasizing his last two words.

"You should have gone after her," Dean said, shaking his head.

"Why?" Seamus argued. "Ron said she ran. Why even try and go after her?"

"Because she probably wanted him to," Dean said, matter-of-factly.

"How do you figure?" Neville asked, leaning across the table to hear his friends better.

"She's a woman," Dean rationalized. "She's playing hard to get."

Harry blinked. "I dunno… that's doesn't sound like Hermione at all…"

"You should try again," Dean told Ron.

Ron gave him one of his patented Ron-looks that said "You're nutters!" and then he said "You're nutters!"

"Come on, Ron, if you did have any dignity, it's gone, now," Dean pointed out. "Go for it."

"After what happened, why should I listen to you lot?" Ron asked, suspiciously.

"Because you love us," Seamus replied with a sugary-sweet smile.

Ron could only glare.

Harry sighed. "Listen, Ron. Why don't I talk to her? She normally seems to listen to me."

Ron nodded nervously. "Yeah. Alright. That sounds like a plan…"

----

And so The Boy Who Lived found himself chasing Hermione Granger through the drafty halls of Hogwarts. She was giving him quite a workout. He felt a few drops of sweat run down his face. He'd never have guessed she was so fast. 'Bloody fucking hell,' he thought. 'All I said was "Hermione, can we talk about you and Ron?" Bloody woman.'

When he caught up with her, he tried to skid to a stop, but wound up piling into her, his shoes giving a squeak on the marble floor, knocking them both to the floor.

"Holy shit, Hermione!" Harry cried with a laugh, as he gasped for breath.

"Harry!" she snapped. "Don't curse! And get off me!"

"Not until you tell me something," he replied, still lying on top of her.

She squirmed beneath him, trying to push him off of her. "Harry, stop this. What if someone comes round the corner and sees."

He only rolled his eyes, not making any effort to move, and not effected in the least by Hermione's attempt to get him off of her. "I defeated Voldemort last year. What do I care what the prats who go here think of me?"

"Harry!"

"Just tell me something."

"Fine."

Harry smiled down at her, his glasses sliding down his sweaty nose. "Do you love Ron?"

Hermione eyes widened and she turned a dark shade of red.

He smiled widely and rolled off of her, pushing his glasses up. "That's all I wanted to know."

"Y-you won't tell him, will you?" she asked, sitting up.

"Course I will," Harry replied with a slightly laugh.

"Harry!"

Harry shook his head. "Hermione, he loves you. He really does. And he finally plucked up the balls to tell you and you ran away." He got to his feet and brushed off his slacks and shirt sleeves.

Hermione sighed and got to her feet as well, looking down, brushing herself off and swinging her frizzy hair back. "I just… I'm… scared…"

"I know," he replied, putting an arm around her, walking now. "So is he."

She placed her own around him. "Really?"

Harry nodded. "I came into our room today to find him ramming himself against a wall because he was scared that he loved you and wanted it to go away."

She laughed, but turned red again. "Really?"

"You should talk to him… and please… try not to argue with him."

She rolled her eyes.

"I mean it, Mione... I'm bloody sick of your argueing. It's ridiculous."

"So?? We argue... some friends do that."

"Every day?"

"It's not every day," she replied, shaking her head.

"Is so."

"Harry!"

He laughed.

----

Neville awoke the next morning to find that his roommates were all squeezed in at the window, looking out.

All but Ron.

Neville slid out of bed and dimly registered that the floor was freezing. He stumbled over to the window and tapped Dean on the shoulder. "What's going on?"

Dean smiled. "Oy! You two, let Neville through."

Harry and Seamus moved out of the way so that Neville had a clear view of the window.

Off in the distance, he could see a tall redhead arguing with a short girl with curly brown hair.

Neville raised an eyebrow at the other three boys. "Why are you watching them fight?"

Seamus smiled devilishly. "Wait for it."

"Wait for what?" Neville asked.

"They're not fighting anymore," Harry replied.

Neville moved away from the window and sat down on Ron's bed. "So? Now they're just talking?"

"They can't," Dean replied with a smile, leaning out the window. "How can you talk when someone else's tongue is shoved down your throat?"

"What?!" Neville jumped to his feet and looked out the window over Dean's shoulder. "Holy Merlin!"

"Hmmm…" Seamus said thoughtfully. "I… I think I'm going to go find Lavender." He smirked and walked out.

"How does one… breath like that?" Neville asked, feeling a little embarrassed.

"You don't," Harry replied.

The other two boys laughed, and when Ron finally noticed his friends gawking from the window, his face and ears, and presumably his entire body turned a dark shade of red. He told Hermione he wouldn't be long, and raced into the castle, up to Gryffindor tower and up to his dorm to pummel the crap out of them.