Jigsaw Puzzle

Hermione Granger was not jealous. Of course she wasn't! She was far above jealousy. And yet...whenever that giggly little blonde First Year smiled at Ron, she felt a surge of hot anger, which was especially strong if Ron smiled back at the girl.

Why did it matter, when she was angry with Ron anyway?

...Why was that again?

The same old arguments about Viktor Krum, of course...He had apologized, though! What could have driven that from her mind? Was she already that worried about the upcoming O.W.L. exams?

Yes, Ron had apologized...but had it been sincere? One could never be sure of such things...especially with boys. They were so hard to figure out sometimes! Hermione may have been book-smart, but she wasn't too good at reading people, although she tried.

Hermione sighed as she looked over what she had written for Snape's essay, remembering how she had accused Ron of only apologizing because he wanted help with it. Would he accept her own apology if she gave one, or would he still be angry because of, what she now thought, looking back, had been an entirely stupid outburst?

Would he fail the essay without her usual help?

"I worry too much," Hermione thought, although it didn't stop her from worrying.

The days wore on, and Hermione had still not made up with Ron. Perhaps it was just her stubborn pride that held her back. She found herself thinking about Ron often, though, although she tried to keep him from her mind. She tried telling herself what a selfish git Ron could be, but found, as she probed her feelings, that she was no longer the least bit angry with him. She had never stayed angry with him for very long...Why was that?

Well...They were friends, after all...and friends didn't stay angry with each other for long. That was all...wasn't it? Ron was a good person, despite his flaws. She had never doubted that, not really. ...No, that wasn't being honest with herself. She had doubted it, countless times...never for long, though.

Sometimes, thinking back through her memories, Hermione was somewhat amazed at all she had forgiven Ron of, without holding anything against him. Always, she had thought that the next offense would be the last, that Ron was entirely self-centered and stupid, that they could never possibly even speak to each other again...but it had never turned out that way, not in the least.

Every single time Hermione had been angry with Ron, she had put on an outward show of rage, and the rage in her would be intense as she glared at him, shouting, gesturing wildly, giving every possible sign that she just wanted to be left alone.

After the flames of rage died, after he did walk away, her feelings had always taken a sudden change, a sudden change she had never spoken of to anyone.

She would try her hardest to keep her expression fierce, but inside...Inside she would suddenly feel so, so...What were the words for it?

As she watched him walk away, she would feel small and helpless and alone, and although she would struggle to still seem angry, there was always a quiet voice within her heart, whispering, whispering so quietly, always the same words: "...Wait. Don't go. ...I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, Ron..." Hermione thought, so many times, as she looked at him, but she couldn't, not for the life of her, bring herself to say it.

Finally, finally, one morning in the commom room, Hermione somehow got up the courage to walk right up to Ron. She was going to do it. She was going to apologize. How hard could it be?

She took a deep breath. "Ron?"

"What?" His eyes were accusing.

"I-"

"Hi, Ron!"

Hermione felt hot anger rise up within her. It was that little blonde idiot again.

"Er...Hi Lisa," said Ron awkwardly.

"Elise. My name's Elise." She giggled.

"Right. Sure. I forgot."

Elise giggled again.

Hermione gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"What's with you?" asked Ron.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" Hermione yelled in frustration. Like apologizing was worth it anyway! Ron wasn't worth it. Why bother? She stormed out of the common room, fuming.

"What's with her?" Harry asked of Ron. Ron shrugged.

Hermione tried to sit as far away from Ron and Harry as possible at breakfast. She got herself a bowl of cornflakes, slamming the milk container back down on the table so hard that some nearby First Years seemed a little frightened.

There was that girl. Right in Hermione's usual chair. She had just plopped herself down in it without asking, flashing her Lockhart smile at Ron.

"Forget it," Hermione thought. "Just don't look. Just don't look." She opened The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5.

That horribly fake giggle drifted down the Gryffindor table and into Hermione's ears.

The slam of that book down on that table was almost deafening. Several First Years definitely looked alarmed.

"Is she all right?" Elise asked Ron.

"Oh, she's always like that. It's nothing unusual," Ron replied. Harry laughed.

"Well, I'll see you in art!" said Elise brightly.

"Sure," said Ron absentmindedly, checking his schedule.

"Are you sure Hermione's okay?" said Harry.

"Oh, you know her. She's got to get angry at us at least once every bloody year."

"Maybe you're right," said Harry. They went off to class, and neither of them spoke to or about Hermione for the rest of the day.

The days wore on; Time marched on, as it always will. They say time heals all wounds; that isn't true. Maybe some wounds heal with time, but others simply fester like sores, especially sores developed in friendships.

The pain goes on, and the stubborn pride goes on...but sooner or later, something's gotta give.