There All Along

Hermione kept catching Krum's eyes during lessons throughout the next few months. They both knew everyone had found out their secret; that they were an "item". Technically, it was against the rules for any teacher and student to go beyond the relationship of teacher and student. Even Hermione couldn't believe that she was willing to break these rules. However, she felt too much for him to walk away and follow the rules. They seemed to be an exception to the rule by the other faculty and administration somehow. Hermione was the smartest witch in the year and never got less than an E on anything. The teachers knew of the romance and seemed to be amused by it rather than disapproving, which surprised everyone in the school. It also showed the friendship Hogwarts students were supposed to build with foreign schools back in Hermione's fourth year. The girls as well as the boys seemed star struck, but found him to be a good teacher despite his age.

Somehow, though, not everything was as light and accepting of the relationship. A former Krum worshipper, Ron, Hermione noticed, appeared to be fixed in a permanent foul mood. Whenever she got the chance, she consulted Harry, but he seemed determined to avoid the topic. He obviously felt awkward about something that he was resolute in keeping from her. She even asked Ginny if something was going on in the family.

"Is it something to do with your parents or brothers or something?" she asked desperately one day in the common room.

Everyone else had gone to bed, and Hermione was keeping the still studying Ginny company. Scratching on her parchment in concentration with her quill, Ginny shook her head.

"No. Ron's just...I don't know...going through a phase or something," she explained, her eyes on her work. She let out a heavy sigh, and Hermione saw the worry in her eyes. "I hope it's over soon, though. He's making me nervous."

Hermione nodded. He worried her as well. The constant tension between them divided them, and their friendship was strained. Well, more than usual. He even stopped fighting with her, allowing her to claim victory and letting the little things slide. The real indicator was that his appetite had significantly decreased. He spent his mealtimes staring darkly at his full plate, poking at the contents with no enthusiasm. She wanted him back, so she finally decided to ask him herself. She was sick of him kicking things whenever she talked about Viktor or asked them to leave so they could have some alone time. The worst was when he began giving her heartbreaking melancholy glances. Each time he looked at her with those sad, droopy eyes, Hermione wanted to cry and hit him at the same time.

She got her chance one Friday evening in a frosty December. He was out shooting goals in the Quidditch pitch alone. The snow falling heavily, she walked over to him, her nose turning pink as the wind harassed it, and watched as he did a series of loops and effortlessly scored a goal.

"Good shot," she clapped to keep the blood flowing.

He looked around and gave her a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Look, Ron," she said, playing with a glossy curl. "I was wondering if...if you're okay. I don't know what's going on with you, but you haven't been yourself lately. You're always in a bad mood, you won't eat. I just want to know what's going on. We don't even fight anymore!" She gave him a half smile.

He raised his eyebrows. "Are you saying that you want to keep fighting? I thought that was a bit of a sore point with you."

She sighed in admission. "No, I don't want to fight. My point is that you're not Ron anymore. You're really scaring me. What's the matter?"

He turned away from her sadly. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she insisted, rolling her eyes. "Oh, will you just come down here?"

It exasperated her that when she wanted to discuss something important she had to crane her neck upward painfully while he floated around above. Her neck was stiff. Sighing deeply, he slowly made his way to the ground, where she could see his eyes overcome with an emotion. What was it?

"Ron," she said, putting a hand on his snowy sleeve, "I'm worried about you. What's wrong? You can tell me. We're best friends, right? What is it?"

He moved away from her touch and answered, "I'm fine."

Anger began to swell inside her. She took all this time to come down to see if she could help, and he acted formal and distant. Did he have a reason to be so rigid around her? She looked at his blank face.

"Come on, Ron, I know you never talk about your feelings, but you should! It's not healthy hiding things and locking them inside where no one can see them. I want to help." He just stared at her as if he did not care at all about what she was saying to him. "Fine!" she said angrily. "If you don't have anything to say to me, then that's just fine! I'll go talk to Harry or Viktor. At least they have hearts with some feelings!"

She felt angry and hurt at his shortness with her. She turned around and stomped her way back to the castle. She was almost out of the field when she felt a hard grip on her shoulder. It forcefully whipped her around forcing her to look into the livid face of Ron.
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Hermione's words cut at him like angry knives. He was almost glad she had left, but then realized she thought him heartless! She put Krum on a twisted pedestal like some kind of god, and it made him sick. He rushed quietly after her, his feet crunching the snow, his face flushed with anger. When he reached her, he grabbed her arm firmly and forced her to look at him.

"Ron...what?" she hissed. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly and determinedly, leaving her no choice but to stay where she was.

"How could you?" he whispered, hurt.

"What?" she challenged.

"How can you stand there glaring at me, thinking I am a heartless monster after everything we've been through? When have I ever had to explain to you how I feel? You always know. We always understand each other. How can you abandon that? Who are you? You think that I'm not myself, but I feel like you've disappeared somewhere too."

He looked into her brown eyes hungrily. They were wide and full of guilt and confusion. He wanted to pull her close and never let go. Instead, he released her wrists and dropped his hands to his sides, defeated, and turned around.

"Ron, I..." she stammered, apparently lost for words for once.

He felt tired and achy as though he had been pummeled by too many Bludgers. He didn't want her to stammer through some apology or go into another rage.

"Just please, go away," he pleaded, turning away again.

Without a word, Hermione left, leaving Ron to suffer within where this emotional battle raged. As he stood in the cold, unfeeling snow, Ron looked after the girl who had gotten a hold of his heart.

"What are you doing to me, Hermione?"
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Hermione walked in a trance up to the castle no longer feeling the bitter wind that stung her face, but feeling numb in every way. She barely paid attention to where her feet carried her. It wasn't until after she had taken off her coat, hat, gloves, and scarf that she flung herself on her bed to cry. As she wept into the haven of her pillow, she felt weak, confused and lost. She felt so guilty about what she had done, what terrible words she had uttered to Ron who did nothing to deserve what she called him. She had called him heartless. Ron was right. How could she say something so horrible and cruel to such a wonderful person? Ron had one of the most caring hearts in the world. Who knew that better than her? He had never been one to spill emotion like a faucet, but somehow she always knew how he was feeling.

Until now.

She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling with swollen eyes. Ron's behavior was not only unreadable but foreign to her. The only thing she knew for sure was that he was suffering great pain and sadness. There was something in his eyes that told her so, and it almost broke her heart. Why was he so miserable? The question ripped at her conscience mockingly.

She left her warm bed to go look out the window. It was snowing terribly hard now, and from so high up, the wind sounded like wailing screams. Through the white, she caught sight of a tall, red-headed figure alone with his head in his hands. She felt exceedingly sorry for her words. Tearing her eyes from the lonely sight, she decided to go see Viktor. He would know what to do.

She walked to his classroom where he was seated at his desk. He slowly smiled when he caught sight of her, but he stopped when he saw a single tear run down her flushed cheek.

"Hermione?" he asked in his deep accented voice. She smiled a little. He had finally learned to say her name properly. "Vot is thee matter, Hermione?"

She wiped the tear away and silently ran into his warm embrace. He seemed to know her troubles without a word and softly whispered, "It is alright, Hermione. It is alright."

She couldn't help but believe him as he stroked her gently, sending shivers up and down her spine. She turned her face up and took in his dark eyes. There heads drew closer together until their lips brushed ever-so gently against each other. She sighed and smiled. Lost in their own world, they didn't notice when a frozen Ron happened to pass the door.
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His heart stopped in his chest and tightened painfully. His head buzzed dully as he witnessed a rather endearing moment when Hermione shared a tender, intimate moment with a man he had only spoken to a few times. His eyes filled with unwilling tears that burned like acid. She looked so happy. He realized then and there that she could never feel for him the way he felt for her. But he refused to lose her friendship. If he ever lost her completely, he did not know what he would do. He would put this overwhelming love locked up in the back of his aching heart where it would either die or taunt him wickedly. He would have to learn to live with both.

With one last look at the happy couple, he headed for the common room, passing boys laughing loudly, girls giggling secretly, couples kissing, holding hands and whispering intimately. He entered the Gryffindor common room to more friends laughing and having a good time. He caught sight of Ginny and Dean Thomas by the fire, Ginny on Dean's lap, holding hands, just staring at each other. He saw the adoration in Dean's eyes for his radiant little sister. He smiled half-heartedly and made his way to the dormitories. Harry and Seamus sat on Neville's bed, playing a game of Wizard's Chess. Harry, who sucked at the game, looked excited as he and Seamus devoured chocolate frogs. Ron felt left out, even though he was the one who decided to go outside.

"Hey," Harry chuckled as he saw Ron enter. "You're never going to believe this, but I'm actually winning! Miracles do happen!"

Seamus threw a frog at him just as his knight pulverized Harry's castle. This caused the pair to roll around on the floor in hoots of wild laughter, gasping for breath. Ron smiled slightly as he pictured Hermione rolling her eyes if she witnessed this.

He forced out a laugh and said, "Don't want to intrude. Think I'll turn in."

With a fake yawn and a bid of farewell, he went to his bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he pictured Hermione enfolded into Krum's massive arms, Ginny and Dean gazing fondly at each other as the flames in the fireplace crackled jovially, ignoring another burst of laughter from Harry and Seamus. He shut his eyes. All his life, he had been part of a noisy, hectic, crowded family where no one had any time to themselves, where someone was constantly there. Now as he lay in his bed, drowning in his misery and pain, he decided that he had never felt more alone in his entire life.