Seven Days

Seven Days

DAY TWO

When Hermione woke up the next morning, it was to find that she had a crick in her neck. "Ouch," she grunted, sitting up on the small cot. It groaned under her weight and she stood up, kicking off her plaid blanket. She saw Ginny sleeping on the other side of the room, snoring softly, her lime green hair sprawled all over her pillow. There was a bit of a grin on her face, and Hermione stared at her for a moment, wondering what she could be dreaming about.

Hermione's feet touched the hard floor and she remembered that she had to wear slippers or she'd get splinters. After sliding her feet into her brand new slippers, she looked out of the window of the small cabin to see a light snow falling on the ground. She felt a smile touch her lips and hoped that today would be better than the last.

She practically skipped to Ginny's side, humming under her breath. "Ginny, wake up!" she said. "Up with you!" Ginny stirred a bit, then opened her eyes sleepily and started when she saw Hermione standing over her.

There was a large thump on the cabin door, followed by sniggering, and Hermione went to the door and opened it, only to see Harry, Ron, Fred, and George all hurling snowballs at the front door. She ducked to avoid being hit, and the snowball hit Ginny instead, who had climbed out of bed to investigate.

"You...prats!" Ginny said, spitting out a mouthful of snow.

Hermione rolled her eyes at the boys, and tried to shut the door, but George stuck his foot out. "Have a little fun, Hermione," he pleaded with a grin.

"We need to get dressed," Hermione said. From the look on their faces (namely, Ron's), this had not occurred to them. George quickly pulled his foot back, and she shut the door, as Harry yelled, "We'll be waiting!"

"I'm sure they will," Ginny muttered, plucking snow from her lime green, purple polka dotted hair and walking over to the chest of drawers. Hermione followed her and picked out a pair of jeans and a light brown sweater, then put on her earmuffs, hat, scarf, and coat.

She and Ginny were ready in about seven minutes, and they walked outside to see that the boys had already started the snowball fight. Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look, and then simultaneously picked up balls of snow and hurled them at the boys. Hermione's hit Fred in the back of the head; Ginny's hit Harry's neck and trailed down his neck.

Harry, George, Fred, and Ron all seemed to turn at once, all grinning broadly, and then they threw snowballs at the girls. Thirty seconds later, it was decided that they would split into teams. Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all were on one team and Fred, Ron, and George made up the other one. "It's not fair, guys, it's girls against boys," said Ron, grinning.

Ginny and Hermione started to laugh, and Harry grew bright red, finally realizing what that had meant. "Oh, you are going down!" Harry yelled, lunging at Ron and tackling him to the snow. Fred and George began to laugh and Ginny and Hermione took that opportunity to throw more snow at them.

Fred and George immediately went after Ginny, tickling her mercilessly, until they too, were on the ground. Hermione stood back, amused, watching the others on the ground, and just as she turned away, she felt a hand wrap around her ankle and bring her straight into the snow. Startled, she let out a little shriek and turned to see who had done it, and grabbed more snow. "Ron!" she said, throwing the snowball directly at him.

He began to laugh as it hit Harry instead, who looked up from shoving snow down the back of Ginny's shirt ("It was payback!" he would later proclaim.) to stare at Hermione, confused. She saw Harry and Ron exchange a look before they both moved toward her and jumped on her, and began to tickle her like Fred and George were still doing to Ginny. "Stop, stop, stop!" she begged as tears streamed down her face, laughing with mirth.

"I don't think so," said Ron, tickling her stomach. She opened her eyes between gasps of laughter to see that he was grinning his famous Ron lopsided smile, and she was happy that today was going to be a different day. He wasn't in a bad mood.

With that thought, she found the strength to turn the tables on him; soon he was the one in the snow and she was hovering over him, tickling him. And even though it was bloody cold outside, Hermione could feel warmth spreading through her body, tingling. Harry was watching them, an odd, knowing sort of look on his face. Ron was staring at her, amazed and shocked, as she pinned him beneath her, beginning to tickle him.

It was over before it began. Soon, Ron had pushed her off of him, looking horrified. His cheeks were bright red, yet his features had gone rather pale. It was strange, really. Hermione was plopped into the snow again, very confused as Ron sat up and began to swipe snow from his hair. "What?" she snapped, so tired of Ron's on and off attitude.

"Er...nothing," he mumbled.

Hermione knew her face had gained a pouty look and she crossed her arms over her chest, tutting. Ron was still staring at her, a blank expression on his face. Hermione's mind was reeling; they couldn't even have a proper snowball fight without him acting dodgy! What the hell was wrong with him? She would have given anything to know what he was thinking, and she searched his face, as though looking for an answer, the sounds of Fred and George still tickling Ginny in the background. Ron looked down into the snow and began tracing patterns in the white fluff with his fingers.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask him again what was wrong, but a snowball whizzed past her and hit Ron directly on the side of the head. A series of giggles followed this and Hermione turned to see who had done it. Anna was standing by the door of her cabin, doubled over in laughter. She was dressed in a pair of dark grey sweatpants, a puffy light blue jacket, and a grey scarf was wrapped around her neck. Hermione looked back quickly at Ron to gauge his reaction, but he and Anna were looking at each other in a sickening sort of way that made her insides clench.

She cleared her throat and picked herself off of the ground, dusting the snow off of her jacket, and then practically ran back to Cabin #5, mumbling to Harry, "Tell me when we get breakfast."

Once inside the cabin, she tried to catch her breath and keep a hold on her emotions, but she only managed to choke as tears prickled in her eyes and wandered sadly down her face. So that's why Ron was acting like this; he liked Anna and didn't appreciate his best friend showing him affection. It hit her over the head like a particularly heavy copy of Hogwarts, A History, and she slumped down on her creaky cot, staring at the peeling ceiling.

Hermione continued to stare at the ceiling, musing until Ginny came in, laughing. She could feel Ginny freeze as she saw Hermione lying in her bed with tears streaming down her face. "Hermione?" she said timidly, removing her gloves one by one and shaking the snow out of them. Hermione sat up as Ginny sat down.

"I was so stupid!" Hermione said shrilly. "T-to think that he felt the same way!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Ginny with the blankest of looks, and then she ran her hand through her lime green hair, an expression of dawning appearing on her face. "Ron! I didn't know you had feelings for him, Hermione!"

Hermione threw her a murderous look. "Will you keep it down? There's no need to announce it to the whole of Britain!"

Ginny was unabashed. "Why are you crying about it? He feels the same way, I'm sure!"

Hermione said quickly, "How do you know? Did he tell you?"

"Well," said Ginny, throwing her a sorrowful look, "no, he didn't, but he must!"

Hermione tutted and pulled the plaid blanket closer to herself. "Please, he only has eyes for Anna, silly Muggle."

"Hermione!" said a shocked Ginny. "Your parents are Muggles!"

Hermione groaned and flipped herself over, burying her head in her pillow. "I know," she moaned melodramatically. "I didn't mean that...but Anna looks like a female Malfoy, don't you think?" She was obviously trying to find anything and everything wrong with the beautiful girl.

"She does," Ginny admitted, "and he is a piece of art, but don't you dare tell anyone I said that!" she added quickly, as though she could sense Hermione's disgusted look.

"What am I going to do Ginny?" whined Hermione in a very un Hermione like fashion.

"Well," said Ginny, with an air of thoughtfulness, "first, you're going to eat. So get out of that lousy cot and come with us to breakfast. Oh, and mum and Bridgett already planned that we're going to go into the town to watch a movie, and then we're going to go dancing, then somewhere for dinner."

"Ho ho," muttered Hermione dryly.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Throughout breakfast, Hermione and Ron didn't speak. Hermione would occasionally glance in his direction, and then look away with a flushed face when he caught her eye. He was sitting next to Anna, who had him in a very passionate discussion of art history. Hermione normally would have jumped in the conversation eagerly, but she didn't.

After breakfast, all of them headed to a theatre, the Weasleys (especially Arthur) were thoroughly excited and antsy, but tried desperately to keep this hidden from Bob, Bridgett, and Anna. "What-er-movie are we watching?" asked Ginny anxiously, as they stepped inside.

"Well, I'd certainly like to see this replay of 'The Mexican.' Is this an American movie? I've never heard of it before," said a puzzled Bridgett to the ticket seller.

"Yes it is, miss, we're having an American movie week. I personally hate Americans," he said tartly.

The others gazed at him reproachfully. "Have you ever met someone from America?" Hermione started defensively. She was pen-pals with a girl from America!

"No, and I don't want to," he said smoothly, "Here are your tickets."

"But we didn't decide on that movie!" protested Ginny, but he had shoved the tickets through and let down the blinds. "Jerk."

"Well, we might as well make the most of it!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly, and they walked inside the theatre. Hermione could hear Ron say to Harry, "Never seen a movie before...what's it like?"

She rolled her eyes. It was a typical Ron thing to say. He was going to see what it was like, why did he need to ask... She would never understand him! She settled herself in between Harry and Ginny. On Harry's other side sat Ron and Anna was next to him.

Hermione was more than a little miffed at this, but she bit her lip to keep from saying anything. She was thankful when the movie began to play. Soon, she was enraptured in the plot, and she especially loved the arguments that happened between Sam and Jerry (aka, Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt). Curiously, the relationship reminded her strangely of herself and Ron, but her mood suffered even more as they left the theatre.

Anna was whispering into Ron's ear. What a scarlet woman! Hermione thought viciously. She's flirting in front of her parents! For goodness sakes, hasn't she any sense? But of course, Hermione didn't want Anna whispering in Ron's ear at any time, in the presence of adults or not.

She winced involuntarily and strained to hear their conversation. They were lagging behind the group, so Hermione cleverly (or not so cleverly) pretended to have dropped an earring. She stopped abruptly and walked behind them. Ron threw her the briefest of glances, but continued to walk forward, Anna clinging to him like a leech.

"...I mean to say, she's your friend...a little uppity, isn't she?..."

A torch of anger flared in the pit of Hermione's stomach and she wanted nothing more than to take out some of that girl's perfect, cropped blonde hair. She narrowed her eyebrows waiting for Ron's response. He stopped in mid step, and then began walking again; the movement was so fast Hermione thought that she'd imagined it. "...sometimes she is..." There was a note of discomfort in his tone, but Hermione wasn't listening. Her jaw had dropped. "...but that's what..."

She drowned out all the rest. So, Ron thought she was a snob, did he? Why, that ungrateful little sod. After all she had done for him! Now wait a second Granger, you're talking about someone who's been your best friend for a long time...he doesn't think of you as a snob! Her logic seeped into her brain, but was stamped out by hooves of anger. Well, he thought I was a snob in first year. Come to think of it, Harry has always been the peacekeeper between us.

Hermione quickened her pace and fell into step beside Harry. "Something bothering you, Hermione?" he asked knowingly, looking over his shoulder at Anna and Ron, and then back at her.

"I'm doing wonderfully," said Hermione crisply, as they headed back to the cabin.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"No."

One simple word, and Ginny whirled around to see why Hermione had said it. She smiled.

"Yes," she argued, her tone firm.

Hermione turned from the mirror and gave her a fierce glare. "There is no way in hell, and I don't just throw that word around." She stuck her chin in the air defiantly, and subconsciously looked in the mirror again.

When they had gotten back to the cabin, Hermione and Ginny had both taken showers and prepared for their dancing lesson. Meaning, they would have to wear Muggle dresses. Ginny had on a simple, yellow sundress, while Hermione wore the v-necked, only stopping above the knees light pink one that Mrs. Weasley had purchased for her.

"Why are we wearing sundresses in December anyway?" she asked, scowling. She tugged at the upper part of the dress, trying desperately to cover up the skin it showed. "I'm going to freeze, and I feel naked."

"Hermione, dear," Ginny started in an uncanny impression of her mother, her hands on her hips, her lips in a firm line, "you look magnificent. You want my darling, daft brother to notice you, that dress is going to be the answer to all of your problems."

Hermione sighed, her gaze not wavering from the mirror in front of her. The dress did compliment her features, now that she thought about it...sort of made her face glow, her cheeks flushed attractively, and her wet hair clung to her neck in little ringlets...all she would need was a little make up...

"No!" Hermione repeated shrilly, upset at having gotten caught up in the moment.

There was a knock at the door.

"Hermione, there's absolutely no argument. Oh, as for the whole sundress in December dilemma, we're going to be dancing indoors with heat." She pivoted and answered the door. Hermione wanted to see whom it was, but it seemed her feet refused to move from in front of the mirror.

"Wow, Hermione," whistled a voice that she placed at Harry's. He saw him me up behind her, in simple khakis and a stylish coat and he looked at their reflection in the mirror.

"See Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed enthusiastically. "Harry likes the dress!"

"You look great too, Ginny," Harry said quickly, and Hermione smirked at the blush that managed to creep its way over both of their faces. He was lying, and he knew it. Ginny, while the yellow dress would have been perfect with her red hair, it clashed with the lime green. After a long, awkward silence, Harry and Ginny broke eye contact and Ginny cleared her throat.

"With this hair?" she squeaked out, patting her polka dotted mop self conciously. Her face had turned red; Hermione knew she was pleased at being complimented by Harry but she was angry about her hair as well. Ginny muttered something and opened the dresser drawer, pulling out a huge brown cowboy hat and put it on her head, making sure all strands of hair were hidden from view.

There was another knock at the door, but before anyone could open it, it burst open, and Hermione froze as Ron ran, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Come on guys, mum will freak if we're la-"

The sentence died from his lips as easily as the color drained from his face. He froze, staring at Hermione in horror. After another long, awkward silence, Ron came to himself and said, looking rather green, "Let's get out of here." It was in barely more than a whisper. Ginny and Hermione grabbed their coats.

Harry looked away from Ron, and smiled at Hermione, thinking, Oh, he likes her all right. Meanwhile, Hermione was thinking, Lovely, I make him want to hurl. Ginny was looking between the three of them, and Hermione noticed her eyes connect with Harry's.

Again.

Then Ron, shivering, said something about getting a move on, his gaze fixed ceremoniously on his shoes. He walked out of the cabin, followed by a dejected Hermione. Harry closed the cabin door gently behind him, and he and Ginny walked a bit behind Hermione, each caught up in their own thoughts.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione felt a tiny bit renewed as all of them stepped into the ball room. Indeed, it was very warm in this building, just like Ginny had promised. Bridgett had what looked like tears of joy in her eyes, Anna was smirking, and Bob's mouth was in an 'O'. Hermione glanced at the Weasleys. They looked very out of place, unused to the fine, high ceiling, which was shaped like a dome, the perfectly polished floors, and the spotless walls.

Hermione stood beside Harry, who also seemed out of place in his suit. "Why do we have to wear this stuff at the lessons?" he whispered to her. Hermione shrugged, not taking her eyes off of Ron. He wore a simple black suit, but it seemed to broaden his shoulders a bit more, and add to his already handsome features.

He was talking with Anna, and if Hermione hadn't turned away at that moment, she would have noticed that Ron didn't look very comfortable.

In a few moments, Ron was driven from her mind, as a tall man with light brown hair and dark eyes stepped into the room, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. He was holding a thick book in one hand and a smile on his face. "I am sorry I am late," he said kindly. "I was running a little behind at the university. My name is Billy, I will be your dance instructor. Normally there are others at the lessons, but the party that was supposed to be here just informed me that they are stuck in a snowball."

Bob and Bridgett seemed confused by this, clearly unable to see that Billy was trying to make a joke. "Really, they are confined within a snowball," he said. Okay, perhaps it wasn't a joke?

"As you may well know, at the end of your stay, in six days, there will be a ball of sorts, to sort of close the week off. First, though, before we get down to it, I'd like to know your names."

"Oh, I'm Bridgett!" said Bridgett enthusiastically, and Hermione saw she was wearing a tartan colored dress.

"Hello, Bridgett," said Billy, with a half-bow. Bridgett beamed; Fred, George, and Ron exchanged glances. Hermione felt a slight fluttering in her stomach.

"This is my husband Bob, and my daughter, Anna," said Bridgett, beckoning them closer to her. Anna, Hermione was pleased to note, looked a little embarrassed.

"Hello Anna, Bob," said Billy pleasantly.

"I," announced Percy, sticking out his chest as though to show his importance, "am Percy, and this is my family." Fred and George began to snigger as Percy gave a sort of nod of respect.

Molly looked at her son lovingly, and Arthur shook his head. "Arthur Weasley, pleased to meet you. This is my wife Molly, our eldest son Bill, Charlie, you know Percy already, anyway, that's Fred and George-"

He cut off, and tried to hide a smirk as his twin sons bowed so low to the floor that their hair touched it; Hermione had the sudden urge to roll her eyes. "Er...Ron, Ginny, and then Ron's friends, Harry and Hermione."

Billy nodded to each in turn, and his eyes lingered on Hermione. She could feel herself blushing at what a gentleman he was. "So, let's get started!" said Ron loudly, and Billy's eyes swept away from Hermione.

"All right then, let us begin..."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

In Hermione's opinion, the dancing did not go well. Not well at all. They were all paired up, of course; Bridgett with Bob, Molly with Arthur, Fred with George, Bill with Charlie, Ron with Anna, Harry with Ginny, and Hermione was paired with Billy.

Percy did not have a partner and when Billy said he could pair up with Hermione he responded, "No, it is quite all right. I have had my share of Balls." For some reason, this sent Harry and Ron into fits of laughter. Hermione could guess why.

Fred and George spent the entire time acting like women. "Darling, Fredilena, may I have this dance?" said George in a deep voice. "Why, I'd be delighted Georgina!" said Fred, in a high one. At this time Molly buried her head in her hands. Her sons proceeded to waltz around the room in large circles, singing "Dancing Queen" in the voices of Chip and Dale.

Bill and Charlie refused to dance with one another, claiming it unmanly. Billy said there was nothing "unmanly" about it, at which time Bill and Charlie, along with Ron and Bob dropped their jaws. Fred tripped during his waltzing at these words and George and he toppled to the ground.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Can we please do this?" she asked tiredly. Bill and Charlie glared at Billy for the rest of the lesson and refused to touch each other, they danced about a foot apart, both dancing the male role.

It sickened Hermione to see Ron dancing with Anna, even though Anna was leading-though she was quite satisfied when Billy told Anna off for that. Still, she couldn't bring herself to look at the pair of them. Anna giggled every so often, and Ron was as red as his hair, and clearly did not want to be dancing. Of course, Hermione didn't notice his discomfort, and thought he was rather enjoying himself.

Ginny, who was awkwardly dancing with Harry, seemed to notice Hermione's distress and "accidentally" stuck out a foot to trip Anna, but managed to trip Ron instead, and he fell on top of Anna on the floor. Hermione could feel the tears welling in her eyes, and Ginny let out an "oops" and led Harry across the room.

Billy was a fine dance partner, but Hermione felt herself to be uncomfortable in his embrace, especially since he was looking at her in the way Viktor Krum did-as though she was the only person there. While flattering, Hermione did not return it, and was concentrating on purposefully stepping on his feet whenever he got to close, that she did not learn one thing about dancing.

Everyone was happy when the lesson ended.

Well, perhaps not Gred and Forge, who laughed the whole time, and bowed low again to the floor on the way out.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Hermione sighed as she put on her pajamas on that night. It was freezing cold, and the week had managed to get worse. Ron was still not speaking to her after the incident that morning. Hermione decided to read a book, and had curled up on her cot, with the blankets around her when she heard Ginny walk in.

Ginny had left the cabin an hour ago to talk to Harry for a bit. She looked rather red in the face, but looked very disgruntled.

"All right," snapped Hermione, closing her book, "what happened?"

"Oh Hermione!" said Ginny, a troubled look written across her face as she climbed into Hermione's cot, "I told myself that I wouldn't let myself fall for him again...I promised myself that I'd get over him...I gave up on him...I did, you know it, but...I-it's all coming back." She buried her head in her hands.

Hermione looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "Well, it was bound too, I suppose," she managed weakly.

Ginny raised her head. "It's just so...hard dealing with it all! I mean he said he liked me as a friend..."

"Wait a minute, did you tell him you like him as more than a friend?" said Hermione quickly.

"No, nothing like that...I just told him I was glad were friends, because he seems happier, you know? That's all I told him, and he said it back. And then he smiled...and he said he wished we could have become friends sooner, and then you know what I said?"

"What?"

"I said, 'Well, that would have been kind of difficult because with my enormous crush on you, it was hard to string two words together.' Why did I have to bring that up? And then he got all red, and I bolted. I just said good night and came in here. Now you're not the only one with boy problems."

"I don't have-" Hermione started, but cut off when Ginny gave her a look. "Fine, well, yes I do."

Ginny grinned, and, despite it all, Hermione grinned too. "Oh stop looking at me that way, like you know everything," Hermione said, reaching behind her for her pillow. She smacked Ginny with it.

Ginny laughed. "Like you don't ever look at people like you know everything?" That earned her another smack. "Oh, you know it's true!" Another smack.

Now the both of them were laughing hard, and Ginny leapt to go get her pillow. She hit Hermione with it.

"Goodness, first snowballs, then pillows, what's next?" Hermione said later that night.

"Who knows?" Ginny added, in the bed across the room. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think Harry will speak to me tomorrow?"

Hermione really did roll her eyes. "Of course he will, are you daft? My guess is that he'll probably have forgotten what you said to him by morning. And if he doesn't-well, he'll come round."

"I suppose you're right," Ginny said through a yawn, and the creaking of her cot hinted that she had just turned over. "Hermione?"

"Mmm?" said Hermione, eyes closed.

"Ron will come round too."