The Seventh Year Soap Opera

RECAP OF CHAPTER SIX-Morning Sickness: Harry dreams a bit about his experiences in hiding. Hermione, suffering from morning sickness, pukes all over Malfoy. She and Ron have a talk, and Ron and Ginny take a peek in the girl's dormitory.

Chapter Seven- The Mood Swings of Ginny Weasley

Ginny looked down at the diary in front of her. It was a brown, tattered diary with the golden letters, Hermione Granger, written across the front. After Ron had returned to the common room, Ginny had gone back into Hermione's room and stolen the diary. Now she was debating whether to read it or not.

Hermione had betrayed Harry, and Ginny couldn't bear it anymore. She found it hard to comprehend how Harry himself might feel, but she hadn't been able to talk to him since the truth had come out. She wanted to comfort him and take away his pain. Harry Potter hadn't even spoken of his ordeal with Voldemort when he had returned, and the fact that he was bottling more emotions inside him was not reflecting positively on him. Oh, how she hated feeling so hopeless!

Ginny ran a hand through her hair and rubbed her eyes, torn. Hermione, though she had filled Ginny in on some of what had happened, still hadn't confessed how she felt about Harry. If the brunette still held feelings for the Boy Who Lived, Ginny wanted to know. If she didn't, Ginny still wanted to know. She needed to know.

This diary would certainly hold the answers to her questions.

However, Hermione trusted Ginny. She was the only girl friend that Hermione confessed anything to, and she'd all ready revealed a great deal about the past. Eventually, she would tell Ginny about her current feelings for Harry, wouldn't she?

The loaded question was: did Ginny want to wait that long?

"No," the redhead muttered to herself forcefully. "I don't want to wait."

She sighed, and slowly opened the brown book. No charms protecting it? she wondered. Come on Hermione, you're more intelligent than this. The part of Ginny that was telling her to put the diary back as quickly as she could was no longer able to stop her. She couldn't stop now.

The pages were frayed and worn. Obviously, Hermione had had this diary for quite a long time. Guilt gnawed at Ginny, but she rolled her eyes and tried to push those feelings away. She lowered her eyes to the first page, where Hermione had written, in small, neat handwriting:

September 1, 1991

Dear Diary,

My mum bought this diary to record my experience at "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes, I am a witch. I could hardly believe it when I got my letter. It's still hard for me to believe. Right now I am sitting in the girl's dormitory on my four poster bed. I share this room with two other girls, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They seem nice enough, but I'm not sure we'll be close. For one, they have become fast friends and it seems there's really no room for me. Two, they are too, for lack of a better word, giggly. Is that a word? I hope so. Besides that, they seem stuck up, but that always seems to be people's impression of me, so I suppose I shouldn't judge too quickly. Goodness, as I'm reading this, I've found that I have used the word "seem" vigorously and that isn't good. However, my mother said that you cannot edit a diary, so I won't. Anyway, on the Hogwarts Express (i.e. the train), I met a rather forgetful boy named Neville. I helped him search for the toad that he lost before we even arrived at school. He seems as nervous as I feel. DAMN IT! I USED THE WORD "SEEM" AGAIN! Oh, no, I just cursed. I feel awful. Okay, back to the train. (Darn, a fragment.) I met two other boys on the train as well. The first was Harry Potter! I read a lot of books about the Dark Arts and he was the one who defeated You-Know-Who! Not that you know who You-Know-Who is. He's Voldemort. What an ugly name. Harry didn't seem to know he was famous, though, and that was odd. (How many times am I going to write "seem"?) He's very good-looking, even though he's scrawny (I love that word), and has dark hair and the most gorgeous green eyes. No, I do not have a crush on him. I'm eleven! He was sitting with another boy called...oh dear, I forgot his name. He's quite tall, has an unusually long nose, freckles, and red hair. He also has a rat for a pet. A rat! I don't think he likes me though. He got offended when I told him he had dirt on his nose. I thought he might want to know!

Ginny paused. This entry was getting boring. Time to flip.

December 25, 1994 - Yule Ball

Dear Diary,

Tonight was perfect. Viktor (Krum!) and I went to the Yule Ball and people saw the real Hermione Granger. They saw the girl without the books and with the looks. People were drooling! My robes were a periwinkle blue and my hair was in a bun. I really shocked everyone! When Harry saw me, his jaw dropped. Ha! He probably didn't think I could actually look pretty. After all, Ron didn't even realize I was a girl until this year! Anyway, Viktor kissed me! It was the strangest feeling, strange, but nice. My whole body tingled. I don't know what to feel about it though. He's a lot older than I am. I know I like him as a friend, and after that kiss, I was definitely beginning to like him as something else...but Ron ruined it all! He said I was 'fraternizing with the enemy'. Honestly! He was the one who asked Fleur Delacour to the ball! If anyone's the enemy, she is! I don't care if he was under Veela charms! To be honest, I think little Ronniekins is a little jealous. When we went into the common room, he said he didn't like Viktor. Up until he found out that Viktor liked me, he positively groveled at his feet! That redhead is too overprotective! I know how Ginny feels now.

Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. No, you don't Hermione. You have no idea what I feel. Moving on. Flip, flip, flip, flip.

...? I'm so frazzled I can't even remember the date.

Dear Diary,

I made love today...and it wasn't with Harry. It was with Ron. I feel so guilty, for betraying Harry. Though I don't want to admit it, I enjoyed the experience; Harry has never touched me like that. But it was WRONG. It was just so WRONG. Ron and I were both feeling lost and lonely, and I was crying and he comforted me and it went from there. I realize now that it was the biggest mistake in my life and I am positive Ron feels the same way. Harry is off fighting Voldemort somewhere and his girlfriend is having sex with his best friend. Not so good. I wish so much that I knew where Harry is, not knowing his whereabouts is killing me inside. I am so worried for his safety and I want him back at Hogwarts with all of my heart. Whenever he comes back, if he does at all, I don't know Ron and I will tell him, or if we'll tell him. That's one thing we haven't discussed. I guess Professor Trelawney was right. Someone did betray Harry, Ron and I. I wish I was back in first year, when the three of us were friends, just friends. Why do thinks have to be so damn complicated? Oh shit, I just cursed. Oh no, I just did it again. Ron is really rubbing off on me.

Flip, flip, flip.

Date: ...? I'm too excited!

Dear Diary,

Harry came back today! I was so happy to see him! He's changed though. He's distant and won't tell me anything that happened when he was in hiding. Nothing. It's aggravating me! One moment, he's happy and the next, he's withdrawn. Ron and I don't know what to do about this. Besides that, when I hugged him, I couldn't help noticing that the sparks that once flew between us have faded somewhat. When I kissed him, it was like kissing my brother. I don't actually have a brother, but you know what I mean. Meanwhile, I have something bigger on my mind that I found out this summer. You know that heated night of passion that Ron and I shared near the end of sixth year? It has resulted in a child. I am pregnant. So, now I definitely have to tell Harry about Ron and I. Who knows what that will do to our friendship? Secondly, I have to tell both Harry and Ron of my current, er, situation. Right now, I am sooo mad at Ron for getting me this way! But I know it's my fault too. I'm a mess.

Ginny looked up suddenly. Someone was coming up the stairs. Frantically, she shoved the diary in her desk drawer and pulled out her Charms textbook and pretended to look busy. A girl named Flora entered the room.

"I just came in to get my cloak," she explained. "Sean and I are going for a walk around the lake." She smiled and walked over to the closet. Ginny nodded and waited until Flora left before she opened the desk drawer again and retrieved the brown, tattered diary.

Taking a deep breath, she tiptoed to the room Hermione shared with Parvati and Lavender. After slowly opening the door, she walked to Hermione's nightstand and placed the diary neatly inside it.

Once back in her room, Ginny slumped on her bed. She's using Harry, she thought bitterly. She cheated on him with my brother and she doesn't even know if she loves him or not. How can you not know if you love someone? She used Ron too. Manipulative...scarlet woman! Ginny sighed.

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

"You did what?!"

"Justin, shush!" said Ginny, clamping her hand over her friend's mouth. "Don't announce it to the world!"

Justin Finch Fletchey removed the redhead's hand from his mouth and looked at her incredulously. "You read your best friend's diary?" he repeated.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't put it that way! I feel guilty enough all ready. Besides, you know you're my best friend." She gave him a wink. Now he rolled his eyes.

But it was true. In Ginny's third year, right before the Yule Ball, Justin had asked Ginny to be his date. By that time, she had all ready accepted Neville's invitation and had to turn Justin down. He had been slightly deflated, but Ginny had danced with him thrice at the Ball. By the beginning of Ginny's fourth year, Justin had confessed that he no longer had feelings for her. Apparently, he and Susan Bones had spent quite a memorable summer together. Justin and Ginny had been friends ever since.

"Well, your best girl friend's diary at any rate," Justin said, eyes scanning around for anyone who might overhear. The two of them were standing right next to the gates that opened to Hogwarts. When he saw that no one was around he said rather loudly, "That's so wrong!"

Now Ginny rolled her eyes. "And they think we Gryffindors are noble," she muttered.

"So, how do you feel about all of this anyway? Did you get whatever information you were looking for?" asked Justin, and, obviously seeing that this was going to be an involved discussion, leaned against the gate.

Ginny ran a hand through her hair agitatedly. "Yeah. Hermione doesn't know how she feels about either of them. How can you not know how you feel about a person? You either love them or you don't!" She looked at Justin for support.

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "It's not that easy for everyone. You just have that view on things because you've always known your feelings for Harry. Hermione's very confused, because love isn't logical. Her brain is telling her one thing and her heart's probably telling her something else, and she can't separate one from the other."

Ginny clucked her teeth. "That's so ridiculous!"

Justin grinned a bit. "You get that with the smart ones. You, love, wouldn't understand that."

Ginny flashed her friend a sarcastic smile before changing tack and whining, "But what am I supposed to do about all of this? Why does everyone else has to suffer because Hermione is conflicted?"

"Now, that," said Justin, "I don't have an answer for."

Ginny was silent for a bit, before she shivered. "It's bleeding cold out here. Like Hermione's heart."

Justin merely shook his head. "You, I'm afraid, are in need of some chocolate."

"Tell me about it," she replied mournfully. Justin gave her a weak smile, then slipped his hand into Ginny's, and they swung their arms playfully as they walked back into the castle.

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

Ron ran down the corridors, in a state of panic. Where was she? She wasn't in the library, she wasn't in the common room, and no one he had spoken to had seen her. He stopped to catch his breath when he spotted Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood in what looked like a very private conversation. But there were more important things to be discussed.

"Have either of you seen Hermione?" he asked. Neville and Luna looked up at him, startled. Ron was surprised to see Neville glaring at him somewhat, and Luna with tears in her eyes. "What? Is it something to do with Hermione?"

"No," said Luna, her voice cracking, as she searched around in her large, pink schoolbag for a tissue.

"Well, what is it?" said Ron worriedly.

"N-n-neville and I j-j-j - "

"We just broke up and we were hoping to do it in private," said Neville, a quiver in his voice.

"You - what?" said Ron, a bit shocked. Neville and Luna had seemed like a perfect fit.

"Yes, well, I suppose it is for the best, isn't it, Neville?" said Luna, dabbing her eyes. Her voice wasn't dreamy as it normally was, but rather scathing. And underneath the biting tone, there was sadness.

Neville looked awkwardly at the ground, his hands in his pockets. "We...er...haven't seen Hermione," he said.

Ron felt his stomach drop. "Oh, all right then. Sorry about your breakup. I mean, you two were really..."

"Thanks," said Neville.

Ron swallowed, and then started running down the hall, searching for Hermione. She was starting to scare him. Had someone snatched her from Hogwarts or something? he wondered briefly, right before he heard a loud crash.

He froze only for a second. The sound had come from the Gryffindor Common room, which wasn't that far away, and he ran as fast as he could to the source of noise, coming to an abrupt halt when he spotted some first and second year students rushing out of the portrait hole.

"What's going on?" he demanded of one of them, a girl with curly brown hair.

"Hermione Granger has gone mad!" was all he heard before he stepped into the common room.

Hermione was sobbing loudly, her face buried in her hands. The people that were in the common room with her were looking at her wide eyed and as if she were a bit mental. "Out!" Ron said loudly, pointing to his prefect's badge. The students left quickly, either going upstairs to their dorms or out of the portrait hole.

"Hermione," he said, walking slowly over to her. "What's wrong?"

She gestured to the parchment in her hands. "Can't you see?" she said irritably. Her voice quivered with frustration and sorrow and pain. "I got a damn E on my report for McGonagall. That never happens! I-I don't understand this! I worked so hard on it, Ron, you know! What-what did you get?"

"I got an O," Ron muttered. When Harry had disappeared, Ron's grades had steadily climbed as he threw himself into his work; Hermione, on the other hand, had been sliding academically, and it was very frustrating to her.

"Why did you get an O? It's not fair!" she said angrily.

Ron, even though he knew she hadn't meant for this remark to sound so degrading, felt a pang of anger anyway. Why was it so impossible for her to accept him doing well. "What's the problem, Hermione? You push me to do better all the time," he said, unable to keep out the indignation in his voice.

"But you never listen!" she said shrilly. "I am the one who's supposed to succeed and do well! I-I always have, and I don't like this one bit!"

Ron took more steps toward the brunette, his eyes narrowed. No matter how upset Hermione Granger was, he refused to allow her to degrade him. "So, what, you're only happy for me if you do better, is that it? Hermione, stop being so damn selfish! You're still brilliant, you know, and you don't have to break down when you slip once or twice!"

"But it's not supposed to be this way..." Her lip trembled.

"Well, it is. Deal with it," he retorted sharply. "Harry's left. He did it to protect us. If the only thing you've been upset about are your grades, then I don't know why I was ever your friend! Don't you miss him at all?" His voice was getting louder and louder.

"How dare you say that! I'm his girlfriend, Ron! Of course I miss him! How could you even suggest I don't!" She paused, her eyes watering. "Don't you even know me at all?"

Ron lowered his eyes to the floor. What he had said had been wrong. He of all people knew that Hermione was much more concerned about Harry than grades, even if she hadn't been open about it. He, himself, hadn't exactly been open about missing Harry either. He had been so caught up in trying to be strong for Hermione that he had never realized that she had been trying to be strong for him.

"I - " he began, ready to apologize.

"Don't," Hermione snapped. "I don't want to hear it right now. I-I'm going to see McGonagall and see what I can do about extra credit." She walked past him, until he snatched the parchment from her hands, angrily.

"You don't get it," he said firmly. "This doesn't matter." He waved around the paper. "You are not shutting me out, Hermione, no matter how much you want to."

"Why not?" she said heatedly. "I have perfectly good reason to!"

Ron knew she was babbling, eager for a row, just as he was, to release pent up emotions. "Really, what would that be?" he came back, scathingly.

"Well, for one, you're the only other person I really care about other than Harry!" she spat out. "And one day I'll lose you, too! Secondly, you obviously care about Seamus and Lavender a lot more than you care about me - "

"That's not true, 'Mione, and you know it!" His cheeks turned a brighter shade of red.

"Don't call me 'Mione!" she bellowed. "And yes, it is! If it wasn't, why do you hang around them now? Oh, and if you please, I would like my report back!"

Ron paused, staring at her bushy hair, bouncing wildly as she yelled. His eyes lingered on her narrowed eyes, blazing with a passionate fire. He took in her cheeks, flushed pink with anger. He drank in her lips, pressed into a thin line. Panting hard from a fury to match his own, Ron couldn't erase the desire he felt towards her.

"No," he whispered. And with that, he tore Hermione's parchment into tiny pieces.

"What are you doing?" she screamed, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

As she made several steps in his direction, Ron numbly dropped the shreds of parchment and made one determined step toward her. With that, he cupped her face in his large hands and pressed his lips firmly against hers. Hermione let out a tiny shriek of disbelief and anger, but she soon melted against him. His hands moved to dwell in her hair, where he touched it gently and smoothed it away from her face. Fueled by raw emotion, their tongues made contact, exploring the grooves of each other's mouths...

Then, it was over. Ron had pushed Hermione away from him, and was staring at her wide eyed, appalled at what he had just done. Guilt flooded over him immediately, and from the look in Hermione's eyes, he knew she felt it, too. He opened his mouth to speak, "What just - " and his voice cracked.

"I don't know," Hermione answered breathlessly. "Let's just...forget about it, please."

Ron nodded emphatically in agreement. "Er...yeah," he said, running his hands through his hair. "Yeah, we'll do that. Sorry."

He felt her eyes on him as he looked at the ground, ashamed. Ashamed for what he had just done, and ashamed that he had thoroughly enjoyed it. But most of all, he was ashamed for wanting it to happen again. Ron rubbed his cheeks, trying unsuccessfully to bring their color back to a normal shade. It was wrong to want anything to happen between him and Hermione. He had known this from the beginning, when she and Harry had first gotten together. Even if the Boy Who Lived was away, there was no chance in hell that Ron would carry on a relationship with Hermione. It was wrong to even think that, and it was wrong for him to want Hermione and Harry's relationship to end, just so he wouldn't feel pain anymore.

"Sorry," he repeated softly.

"Ron..." Hermione started.

"No," he said. "I-just-sorry."

Heartbroken, he walked out of the common room.

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

Hermione stared down at the parchment and quill in front of her, bit her lip, and then looked up at Ron and Harry, who were leaning over her shoulder, giving her encouraging looks. "That letter is not going to write itself, you know," Ron said with a grin.

"Well, actually Ron--" started Harry.

"I can't," Hermione said, throwing down the quill and leaning back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. "I can't write to my parents. Besides, we agreed to tell them in person."

Ron shrugged. "Fine, we can write to my parents then," he said, taking the parchment and quill.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and gave him a disapproving look. "I want to tell them in person too," she said firmly. "We could probably tell our parents at the same time."

"That would work. Kill two birds with one stone," added Harry.

Hermione took on a businesslike tone. "But, I want Professor Dumbledore to know first."

"Why?"

She paused, thinking, and then she shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted.

"He probably all ready knows. He knows everything." Hermione and Ron both looked at Harry, who had gotten a distant look in his eyes. It wasn't the first time he had had that look upon returning, and it never ceased to cause a bubble of hurt inside Hermione's stomach that he was hiding so much from her and Ron.

"Let's tell him after dinner," Ron suggested, throwing Harry a worried glance. "You could use some sleep." Harry refocused his attention to Hermione and nodded in agreement. It did not take a critical inspection of their bushy haired, know-it-all companion that she had huge bags under her eyes. She looked like Lupin before a full moon.

Hermione shifted in her chair, smiled weakly, and opened her mouth to protest. Harry cut her off. "Don't start," he said.

"You listen to us for once."

Hermione frowned, and gave in. "Yes father...and father." She paused at her awkward phrasing and shook her head. How queer she was becoming. She rose from her seat and walked out of the room, dismissing the laughter from her "fathers" with a wave of her hand.

Once in her room, she undressed slowly from her Hogwarts uniform and into her flannel pajamas. (She despised frilly nightgowns.) She crawled into bed and hugged the cool covers to her body. Her muscles tensed and relaxed, and she found herself in a state of contentment. She had just closed her eyes when Ginny walked into the room. "Go away," Hermione muttered, upset at the distraction.

"I only came because you never told me what happened after Harry left," Ginny said, feeling ruffled.

Hermione opened her eyes with great difficulty. "I'm really tired, Gin," she groaned. "I want to rest before classes pick up tomorrow so I can be focused."

"I think you're just avoiding me," Ginny pressed, sitting on the edge of Hermione's four poster. Hermione could tell her friend was growing impatient.

She sighed. "After Harry left, Dumbledore said he decided to leave the wizarding world temporarily, like I told you before. The only people who knew he was hiding was Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Ron, and myself. Well, Charlie too."

Ginny held back her tears as the memories of Harry gone from her life flashed back. "I was really worried about him," she said bitingly.

"Only a select few knew," Hermione repeated.

"You could have told me. I thought we were pretty close," Ginny said, tracing patterns on Hermione's bedspread with her fingers.

"Ginny, we've all ready covered that," Hermione said tiredly.

Ginny grew irritable. "That doesn't make the feelings go away," she snapped. "Just tell me one thing."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Ginny cut her off before she could get out a word.

"Exactly when did you start cheating on Harry with my brother?" Ginny said hotly, not able to hold in her emotions any longer.

Hermione frowned at the girl's behavior. "Ginny!" she said, shocked. "It wasn't like that."

"No, you only slept with him," replied Ginny, her eyes glowing with a coldness Hermione had never seen before. Ginny felt pretty good. She was releasing bottled emotions. It felt so good to let off some steam.

"Ginny, what's got into you?" Hermione said, irritated. Ginny had interrupted her naptime and had gone from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde in less than sixty seconds.

"Oh nothing," growled Ginny, standing up and walking to the other side of the room. "It's just that Harry could have done better than you. He could've had someone who didn't break his heart. I wouldn't have broken his heart. But he never noticed me, poor plain Ginny Weasley, the baby sister of his best friend. No, all he wanted was Ms. Perfect-Top of the Class-Teacher's Pet Hermione Granger!" She said all of this very fast. Taking a deep breath, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared angrily at the floor, tears brimming in the corner of her eyes. She brushed them away, annoyed and furious.

"You didn't even think of how I felt when you started dating. You knew I liked him. But you didn't care, did you, Hermione? And all this time, I thought we were friends!" Ginny exhaled a shaky breath, her hands trembling, adrenaline rushing through her body.

Hermione was truly taken aback. "Ginny, you told me you were over Harry. If I had known--"

Ginny cut her off. "Love makes you blind, eh?" she said nastily. "Wait, I forgot. You don't love Harry, do you? You probably never did. Why else would you cheat on him?"

Ginny's words stung. Hermione suddenly had trouble breathing, she was so upset. "How can you say that?" she said in an unnaturally high voice, tears brimming in her own eyes.

Ginny continued on her low blow rampage, ignoring Hermione. "I bet you were after him because he's famous," she said coldly. "You know, Hermione, if fame was what you wanted, you should have stayed with Viktor Krum!"

For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger was speechless. "I don't--"

"Wait, I forgot something there too. You are still with Krum, writing him letters. Did you cheat on Harry with him too? Or did you decide that you wanted to double the fun?"

Hermione's patience was running thin and she was getting angry. How dare Ginny insult her like this! "How did you know about that?" Hermione said, shoving off her covers and standing up, a little unstable on her feet. "Did you go through my things?" she said, turning red.

"So what if I did?"

"And you have no right to accuse me of cheating on Harry with Viktor! We are friends! We can write to each other without being accused of being sneaky little tarts!" Hermione clenched her fists at her sides.

"Don't want to admit it, eh?" Ginny said. "Don't want to spoil your perfect reputation?"

Hermione was truly stunned.

"Just tell me one thing. Why Harry? Why him?" Ginny was aggravated by Hermione's silence and the fact that she didn't answer told her what she knew all along. Hermione didn't love Harry. Harry loved Hermione, and loving was very hard to do, especially for him, but she didn't care at all for him.

This made tears form in the corners of her bright brown eyes, eyes that blazed with fury as she stared at the person who she thought was her friend. The person that her love loved. When Ginny spoke again, she whispered, but every word reached Hermione. "You're nothing, Hermione. I can't even call you a scarlet woman. You're much worse than anything that's possible to describe. You're ten times worse than a bitch, which is really something, let me tell you."

"Get out," Hermione said quietly, fuming.

"Don't waste your breath. I'm tired of looking at your pathetic face anyway," Ginny said coolly, walking briskly to the door, and slamming it behind her.

Tossing her flaming hair aside, Ginny thundered down the stairs into the common room.

"What's wrong, Ginny?" said Ron, tearing his eyes away from the chess game he was playing with Harry and focusing on his sister.

"I'm just tired of it all," Ginny sighed.

"Of what?"

"The bullshit!" Ginny said loudly, throwing her hands into the air with a cold laugh.

She stared at Harry with obvious pain in her eyes. Honestly, can't he see that he's better off with someone who won't break his heart? Someone like me? Hermione doesn't care about him. I do!

To be honest, it was all quite funny. It was just so funny in an ironic sort of way. Ginny let out a giggle, which almost immediately turned into loud laughter. Those in the common room just gazed at her, awestruck. "Ginny?" Ron said cautiously, stepping toward her.

Ginny looked up at him, at the look on his face, and doubled over into harder laughter, tears streaming rapidly down her cheeks. It was just so damn funny. "Are you okay?" her brother asked.

Ginny held out her hand, stopping him from coming closer. She gathered herself together and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm fine," she said, with a heavy deep breath. "I'm doing good." She looked around at the confused faces peering at her and fought the urge to break out laughing again. Instead, she gave them a sarcastic wave and a cheerful smile, that was clearly forced. She turned to Harry and Ron. "Really, I'm fine." They looked doubtful.

Ginny rolled her eyes and surveyed the room again. Eyes were still boring into her soul. "What the hell are you looking at?" she snapped, annoyed. "Oh forget it. I'm going for a walk. Accio cloak!" The ruby red cloak that had belonged to her mother when she was younger came flying toward her and she hurried out of the room.

"That was queer," Seamus said once she had left, in mild amusement.

"What was that all about?" said Harry, whose eyes were now narrowed with worry, to a thunderstruck Ron.

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know," he said shaking his head, "but she's beginning to remind me of mum." Harry laughed.

"Checkmate by the way," Ron said, wiping the grin off Harry's face.

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

After Ginny left, Hermione sunk onto her bed, feeling utterly confused. Why was Ginny acting like this? The fling, if you could even call it that, was a one-time thing. Ginny knew that as well as she did. Ginny knew that she loved Harry, knew that she had always loved Harry. And why the hell did she rifle through my things! That's an invasion of privacy!

"How the hell am I supposed to go to sleep now?" Hermione said to herself furiously. Irritated beyond words, Hermione shed her flannel pajamas and dressed back into her school uniform and went back down to the common room.

Harry and Ron were chatting, but stopped when Hermione sat down beside them. The gazed at her curiously. "I couldn't sleep," she explained.

"But Hermione, you need your sleep," Harry said, only looking mildly annoyed.

"I told you, I can't sleep! So come off it!" she snapped. Harry looked taken aback and Hermione sighed.

"Sorry," she said quickly, leaning on her elbow for support. "I...oh, I don't know anything anymore." She looked angrily down at her belly. "Stupid baby," she said, surprising herself. "See all the problems you've caused?"

"I thought you wanted the baby, Hermione," said a shocked Harry. He had never seen Hermione this way and it was startling to him.

"I do!" Hermione protested, changing moods quickly. She sighed again and put her head on the table. Ron and Harry exchanged an awkward look as she began to sob. Neither of them had ever been good at comforting a crying girl. The others in the common room discussed in low tones what was happening.

Lavender hurried over to Hermione. "It's okay to cry," she said soothingly. "Just let it all out."

Harry moved his chair closer to Hermione and put his arm around her. "You'll be fine. Everything's all right," he said, rubbing her back.

Hermione's head raised suddenly, her face tearstained and red. She rubbed her eyes and pushed her hair out of her face. She nodded her head furiously and forced a weak smile.

"You're right Harry," she said warmly, "Everything is all right."

"You're okay," Ron added for good measure.

Hermione smiled at her friends, not knowing what she would do without them. "Yeah, I am." She stood up from her chair. "I think I'll go for a walk," she stated. "Accio cloak!" Her blue cloak rushed to her and she wrapped it around herself. She would go see Hagrid. She walked calmly out of the common room.

Ron let out a whistle when she had gone. "Mood swings," he murmured.

Lavender looked thoughtful. "You know what? I think I'll go for a walk too. Accio cloak!" A lavender cloak floated gracefully toward her and she draped it over her shoulders. She smiled jovially. "A nice long walk helps you sort out your thoughts." Then she too, turned on her heel and walked out of the portrait hole.

"I didn't think Lavender would have any thoughts to sort out," Ron mused.

Seamus walked over to them, a confused expression lighting his features. "What is it with these women taking walks?" he said.

"Beats me," said Harry. "But I guess we'll never know."

"Why?"

"Because," said Ron, as though everyone ought to know the answer to the question,

"Because we're men."

"Oh yeah, right."

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

As Hermione walked, she thought of ways to tell the Headmaster she was pregnant, anything to keep her mind off the row with Ginny. She had come up with a blunt approach and a not so blunt approach. Blunt approach: I'm pregnant with Ron Weasley's child, even though I'm Harry Potter's girlfriend. The not so blunt approach: I'm pregnant with Ron Weasley's child, even though I'm Harry Potter's girlfriend.

Damn! she thought. They make me out to be some sort of slut or SCARLET WOMAN!

Hermione was very angry and very consumed in her thought. So very angry and very consumed in her thoughts, that she collided with someone who had a very hard chest. "Oof," she uttered, the collision taking her breath away and almost causing her to lose her balance.

"Sorry," she said hurriedly.

"Get out of my way, Mudblood!" the person with the hard chest said. Hermione recognized the cold, cruel, condescending voice immediately and backed away.

Malfoy's grey eyes looked her up and down and an eerie smirk formed on his lips. "On second thought Granger, stay there."

Hermione didn't like the tone of his voice at all and she walked past him, giving him a glare. He blocked her path. "You know, I heard the most interesting rumor," he drawled. "You won't believe what it was."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She hated these stupid games. "Oh I heard that one too," she said evenly. "Imagine the shock I felt upon hearing that you sleep with a teddy bear." She gave him a sarcastic smile.

Malfoy frowned. "No, no, only Pansy Parkinson," he said. "But I could make an exception for you, even if I hate you and even if you're a Mudblood. That'd be a great way to get back at my father, and quite frankly, I could use a little action."

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, disgusted.

Malfoy smirked at her again and caressed her face. She slapped his hand. "Ooh, feisty. Anyway, there's no need to hide it from me Granger. I know you sleep around. How about you meet me at 8:00 tonight?"

Hermione was thoroughly repulsed. "For your information, I do not sleep around," she said heatedly.

Malfoy took a step toward her, backing her up against a wall. Hermione was cowering inside, not knowing what to do. Next thing she knew, lips were pressed fiercely against hers. Hermione felt like throwing up and wriggled against Malfoy's firm body, struggling to get free. He was too strong, she decided, and so she settled on slapping him hard across the face, with all the strength she could muster.

Malfoy staggered back, his cheek burning from where she had hit him. He put his hand to his face and stared at her, anger flashing in his cold eyes. He closed his iron fingers around her arm and shoved her to the floor, then raised his arm to strike her. Hermione quickly pulled her wand from her robes, pointed it at him, and yelled a curse, but it was too late.

Malfoy had also drawn out his wand, and yelled, "Crucio!" before she could do anything to stop him. Pain such as she had never known engulfed her body. The feeling of being stabbed by several knives at once spread throughout her body like a virus. Her muscles ached and burned and she didn't know if she was able to endure the torture any longer.

Then, as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. Hermione, on all fours, gasping for breath, was shaking uncontrollably as hot tears poured from her eyes. She prepared herself for more pain, and was surprised when she saw Malfoy fall hard to the ground beside her.

She closed her eyes and let out a cry of relief. "Are you okay?" came a voice, quivering with concern. Hermione nodded, not bothering to wipe away her tears. She struggled to stand, but was unable to, due to the shaking of her body that had lingered. She fell to the ground once more, but felt strong arms lift her gracefully from the floor as though she was a feather, and carry her down the hall.

Hermione finally opened her eyes, eager to see the face of her rescuer, and found herself staring into the bright blue eyes of a face contorted with so much worry.

The bright blue eyes of a certain Ron Weasley.