The Lovers Scorned Kiss Curse

Chapter Three ____ Times Up

Two weeks later

"Maybe you should stay home for a while longer. I'll speak to your headmistress about it. I don't know if you're healthy enough to be around all those other students," said Mrs. Granger, fretting over her daughter, as she helped unloaded her trunk.

"No," replied Hermione alarmed, trying not to shout. "I feel much better, honest. It was just a bad flu bug. I really think being back will do me some good. They can probably treat it better than any over the counter remedy we've tried," she added to sooth her mother's worry.

Her mother made a few more fussing comments before saying goodbye to her daughter, then Mr. and Mrs. Granger watched their daughter disappear at Platform 9 ¾. Hermione dragged her trunk towards the familiar train, her energy dragging along with it. It had been a very long Christmas break. She had hoped being away would help the situation, but it had the opposite effect. It was too hard being away from Ron like that and she was glad to be back. Catching a glimpse of her reflection, during her Prefect duties, she knew Harry would have something to say. The train ride was surprisingly quick and once she was settled in at school, she decided to go find Harry, who she hadn't seen yet. She found him with Ginny and Ron, and watched them from afar for a minute, taking in how perfect Ron looked in his new holiday jumper. Just watching him from a distance, she felt herself being revived, second by second, and felt herself being pulled over to him. She tried to act casual and indifferent as she stood so close to him, but it was difficult. Ginny asked her how her break was, while Harry eyed her suspiciously, like she knew he would.

"It was lovely, nice to be home for a bit, though I got a terrible touch of the flu. How was yours?" she asked Ginny, but it was Ron who replied for them, filling her in on another typical holiday at the Burrow. Hermione tried to ignore him, and conceal the pang of regret she felt that she hadn't been able to be there with them. She didn't know how much she could handle. She wanted Ron back in her life, but didn't know if she was strong enough. She thought she might be able to put up with Lavender if it meant at least having Ron Back as a friend. She decided to take it slow. She snapped back to the present in time to hear Ginny say she was off to find Dean. Seconds later, as though fate was testing her limits, it was Harry who left, after receiving a note to meet Dumbledore, which left Hermione completely alone with Ron. So much for taking it slow.

"Hermione, listen, I'm sorry about that night, the things I said, I didn't mean any of it. And I know you weren't with McLaggen. Don't be mad. I can't take you being mad at me, anymore. Please, 'Mione. I miss you..." He looked down after he finished and waited for her reaction.

"You punched him, didn't you?" she asked, remembering how Cormac looked the next morning, with a busted lip and black eye. Ron smiled sheepishly.

"Would you believe me if I told you he deserved it?" he asked, but Hermione was already hugging him. Not just hugging him, but pressing herself to him as tightly as her arms would allow. He held her back just as securely; their bodies as close as possible. It was as though a great weight was being lifted off of her. She felt alive again; complete. She never wanted to let go, for the sensation was so perfect. She soaked in his warmth, breathed in his scent, and delighted in pounding of his heart against her ear.

"Ron!? Where's my Won Won?" The shrieking voice of Lavender Brown invaded the room and Ron felt Hermione tense in his arms. She froze, like the piercing sound of Lavender's voice was ice water being thrown upon her. All the blissful feelings she had just felt were sucked out of her in one instant.

"I think she means you." She loosened her hold.

"Hermione, wait. You don't have to leave."

"No. You're wrong. This was a mistake. I don't belong here." She paused, and it looked like she was deliberating something, and then she added, "Just stay away from me. Stay out of my life."

*

Hermione felt like a Dementor was stalking her, following her about and draining her of any happiness. When Harry found her, she was curled up in an empty classroom, shivering.

"Bloody hell, Hermione."

"How did you find me?" she asked softly, ignoring his exclamation.

"I used the Marauder's Map. I was worried. I'm sorry, I got sidetracked with Dumbledore. I meant to talk to you right away. You look awful. This can't go on much longer. We need to tell someone."

"Harry, I'm fine. I just had the flu."

"Bollocks. Is that why you're hiding out in an empty room, looking like death?"

"Fine. It isn't the flu. I feel like I might shatter into pieces at any second. Are you happy?"

"This is mad. We have to tell McGonagall. Let me help you."

"If you want to help me, you can meet me in the library after class tomorrow and see if there is something I missed in those books; some common thread in the stories that we can use."

*** *** ***

"Harry, are you in here?!" Ron shouted carelessly through the library, getting plenty of shushes from angry studiers, not pleased with the disruption.

"Harry?" he called again. "Oh, there you are--" he finished abruptly, focusing on the scene in front of him. Harry's head was bent forward, and Hermione was facing away. Harry had his hand clasped over Hermione's and they were talking low.

"What's going on here?" asked Ron agitated. Harry released Hermione's hand and looked up at him innocently.

"What's up?"

"We have practice, 'member? Or are you too busy in here to make it?"
"Oi, Quidditch. I completely lost track of time."

"It's okay. We still got twenty minutes. What are you two up to?"

"None of your business, Ronald," Hermione replied hotly, not able to turn in his direction.

"Fine then, forget it. Coming, Harry?"

"Er--Yeah--be right there...."

"Is there something going on with you two? Because if there is, you don't have to keep it a secret from your best friend," said Ron forcefully, as he and Harry walked to practice.

"It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it like?"

"I--er--can't really say."

"Can't or won't?"

"It's sort of both, mate. I wish I could, but it isn't that simple."

"Sure."

"Why don't you just ask her yourself, if you're so concerned? When was the last time you spoke to her? When was the last time you took a good look at her? Stop being a coward and talk to her," Harry replied, growing impatient with Ron's brooding temperament.

"I tried to talk to her when we got back from break, but she got upset when Lavender showed up," he confessed.

"That was three weeks ago! What are you still doing messing around with Lavender anyways; you clearly don't want to be with her. "

"It's not that easy. You've never had to ditch someone before. I keep hoping she'll get the hint, but--"

"Either man up and chuck her or deal with it, but I still think you ought to speak to Hermione." There was something in Harry's tone that made Ron nervous. He could hardly concentrate at practice, his thoughts revolving around what Harry had said. He got hit with two bludgers and let about a dozen in the goal, causing his teammates to wonder what was wrong with him.

Ron wasn't able to talk to Hermione until breakfast because she had already gone to bed when he got back from practice. He thought of asking Ginny if she would go wake her up and ask her to meet him, but felt too ridiculous to go through with it. He was sure she wouldn't come down if he did ask. No, he would have to ambush her and make her talk to him he decided.

He was shocked as he stood before her in the great hall, taking in her drawn, tired face. She looked so fragile, sitting there, absentmindedly stirring her breakfast. A table full of students, room full of people and she seemed so isolated and alone sitting there. His face drew into a frown as he looked her over; she didn't notice him there. She didn't seem to notice anyone for that matter or that she was even in the Great Hall. He sat down across from her, thinking of how to start, but after a long silent moment, the words not coming to him, and being too self conscious with the roomful of eyes, he decided it would be better to wait until he could get her alone. As he sat there, unable to eat,--which for Ron already spoke volumes-- he slowly scanned over every inch of her face. Suddenly, her eyes shot up and caught his stare. They only locked eyes for a second, then appearing offended, Hermione vanished from her seat, leaving Ron gaping after her. Hermione didn't appear alarmed, a few minutes later, when she turned to see Ron using a Colloportus charm to lock the door behind them, but rather stared at him, face hardened, waiting for him to say something.

"Hermione, we need to talk," he told her sternly, but she didn't say anything in return. "I want to know what's up with you. What's this secret that you can tell Harry, but not me?"

"What has Harry been telling you?"

"Nothing. That's why I'm asking you." He tried not to sound upset, but he was getting frustrated with her remoteness.

"He said nothing because there is nothing going on."

"Look at yourself, 'Mione..." he told her, and then impulsively placed his hand on her face to gently rub one of the circles under her eye with his thumb, "...you look--"

"Oh, so you don't speak to me in weeks and now you barge in here to tell me I look like hell?! Well you can just go there! Get out of my way," she ordered, her temper flaring. Ron grabbed a hold of her arm to stop her.

"You told me to stay away. You told me to stay out of your life. You stopped talking to me. I was just trying to do what you asked. I hoped you would come around, eventually, but, if it's possible, you seem even more upset with me than before, and I don't even know what I've done to make you so angry."

"You didn't do anything, Ron. You just...never mind. Honestly, I wish I had never met you Ronald Weasley. You're without a doubt the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

*** *** ***

Hermione lay in bed for the next three days, even skipping her Friday classes and sleeping through the weekend. She felt too weak to get up and the morbid thoughts plagued her mind weren't helping. She felt such intense pain that she would gladly have taken death to forget it all. Harry informed Madam Pomfrey that Hermione was 'sick'. She wanted Hermione to come to the hospital ward, but Hermione refused to get out of bed, so she brought her a potion to help her sleep and told her if she wasn't feeling better come Monday morning, she would have to be moved. Harry was nervous and wished McGonagall hadn't been gone for the weekend. It was very bad timing in his esteem. He told Hermione he was going straight to McGonagall when she returned. Monday came and Hermione was not showing signs of improvement, so Madam Pomfrey had her moved to the hospital ward. If she didn't show signs of improvement soon she would have to go to St. Mungo's. Harry wished he could tell Madam Pomfrey exactly what was wrong with Hermione, but his lips were still frustratingly sealed. That day, Harry allowed himself to get sidetracked with Dumbledore's task and missed his chance to speak to McGonagall about Hermione, but thought he had waited that long to tell her that one more night wouldn't matter much. If Hermione was right, there wasn't anything McGonagall could do for her, anyways. He returned to the boys' dormitory that night feeling extremely exhausted. Between Hermione's illness, Malfoy's suspicious activity, Dumbledore's request with Slughorn, and even Ron's birthday the next day, he had reached his limits. His bed had never felt so fantastic, he fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.

When Harry awoke, the room was cleared, aside from Ron-- who was sitting on his bed, collecting up his presents that must have arrived early that morning. Harry wished him a happy birthday, sliding off the bed, with his checklist of things to do that day running through his head. He was trying to decide the best tactic to approach Slughorn that morning when something Ron was muttering about caught his attention. He was amused at first as Ron sputtered on about his deep passion for Romilda Vane, but after getting hit with a shoe for offending Ron's love, he decided this would be the reason he needed to see Slughorn that day and without delay. Dumbledore's request would have to wait till Ron was sorted out.

*

Hermione saw Ron being carried into the hospital ward and shot out of bed like she was on fire. He was unconscious and very pale, even for him. Her heart fell to the floor as she made her way to his side. She couldn't help thinking of the horrible things she had told him in the bathroom. She hadn't meant them at all, especially about him being the worst thing that ever happened to her. No, this moment here, that was the worst thing, she thought, panicking.

"What happened to him? Is he alright? Ron! Ron! Answer me! Ron!" She was near hysterics. It took three people to hold her down and get her back into bed, but she kept yelling out for him, and begging for answers. She calmed down more when Harry wheeled her bed over next to Ron's, so she could be near him. She tried to stay quiet as Harry told her about the love potion, and the Firewhiskey in Slughorn's room, and how Harry had just barely managed to save his life with that Bezoar. She anxiously waited for Ron to open his eyes, but he kept so still. After everyone else left for the night, Hermione lay there, holding his hand in hers, never taking her eyes off him for once second.

*

"Er...my...knee," Ron Choked out, half asleep. Everyone immediately shut up and stared at him. It was the first thing he had said since he was poisoned the night before and they all waited, hopeful to hear more, but after a few indistinguishable mumblings, Ron fell back asleep. Hermione never left Ron's side. Madam Pomfrey was just relived she seemed to be doing better and wouldn't need to be taken to St. Mungo's. Even still, she stayed in the hospital ward as Ron's health improved. Ron was thankful Hermione was not only talking to him again, but also that she was being so attentive and concerned about him. Even if she didn't say it, he knew that she forgave him for treating her the way he did, even the parts he didn't understand.

Once Ron began sitting up and talking, Harry knew it was time he informed McGonagall about Hermione. Though he was surprised no one else noticed there was something very wrong going on with her, but Ron's scare had been given a lot of attention the last couple days, and Hermione's behavior and appearance slipped under the radar. In a strange way she appeared better than before, when she was lying ill in her own hospital bed. Ron's near death experience had the effect of lighting an overprotective panic filled fire under Hermione's metaphorical ass. He hated to think what would have happened to Hermione if Ron hadn't gotten better; to lose both his best friends in one week would have been unthinkable.