Certain Acts

Author's Note: Originally published on February 19, 2018

Hermione yawned, staring up at the weathered ceiling of the tent. Despite the late-December chill in the air, she was quite comfortable under a pile of blankets.

She thought about everything that had happened in the past couple of days. Her anger had abated little, but deep down, she was finally able to admit how relieved she was that Ron had returned. In her mind, he didn't deserve her forgiveness, at least not yet.

Her thoughts wandered to their mission, an involuntary shiver running through her body out of dread and nerves. Fearing a repeat of the incident at Godric's Hollow, she just hoped they'd learn something of value from Xenophilius Lovegood. That it was worth the risk of exposing themselves, especially now that they were back together again.

The three of them.

She glanced, out of habit, at Ron's bed—noting the emptiness. He'd taken her watch and let her sleep, a small concession for his leaving. At least he was trying.

Every action of his since he'd returned had been done with a measured deliberation, not wanting to anger or upset her further. She frowned, not quite liking that the tension between them was causing him to walk on eggshells around her, a vast difference from their usual bickering and rows. She didn't like this new dynamic, even though she was aware she could end it if she chose to.

She knew both boys were outside, as she'd heard Harry blundering around the tent a few minutes earlier, when she was waking up. A streak of purple light filtered through the tent's entrance flap, signaling the early winter morning.

Feeling only slightly bad that Ron had taken an extra shift, she rose and silently padded to the small kitchen, thankful that they still had enough supplies for a decent cup of tea. After pouring water into the three cups, she hesitated, a heaping spoonful of sugar hovering over Ron's cup as she worried her lip in indecision.

He'd hurt her, more than he ever had before. She gripped the spoon tightly, remembering that horrible night he'd walked out. Somehow, in her clouded brain, preparing his tea the way he preferred it seemed like a tacit admission that she was willing to forgive him. She felt so transparent, like Ron would see right through her and know that perhaps she wasn't as upset at him as she was showing.

Was that so bad?

He had returned and was seemingly sincere in his apologies. She believed he'd tried to come back earlier than he had. She couldn't see it at first, blinded by her rage, but she'd had time yesterday to think and process everything he'd said, while maintaining her ire.

His story about the Deluminator and the ball of light certainly didn't hurt his case.

She shook her head clear and dumped the sugar in, watching it dissolve into the liquid, much like some of the anger she was holding on to.

Picking up Ron's cup, the other two forgotten, Hermione made her way towards the opening. She stilled at the cusp of the entrance upon hearing her name, the ceramic warm between her dry, cracked hands. Spying out from behind the flap, she could see Harry and Ron sitting on a nearby log and speaking in low tones, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Are you going to tell Hermione what really happened with, you know, the locket?" Harry asked awkwardly.

Hermione watched from the shadowed entrance as Ron stared down at his feet, a look of anguish clouding his features.

"Yeah, I will. When the time's right. I need to make things right between her and I first. At least I know she doesn't… you know… fancy you."

She suspected they'd left something out when telling her the story of destroying the locket. It'd sounded far too easy, as if something that evil wouldn't put up a fight. It puzzled her though, the connection between the locket and her feelings for Ron, and lack thereof for Harry.

Harry laid a cautious hand on Ron's shoulder. "She never did, even if that's what you thought."

Those words Ron had said with such venom were burned into her memory.

You choose him.

She'd believed he meant she was choosing the mission over leaving, but it couldn't be. Not to Ron. She finally understood what he'd really meant.

Ron blushed, presumably from embarrassment, and looked up, his eyes searching the distance.

"Do you reckon she still likes Krum? She just brought him up when we were discussing that symbol in the book and Dumbledore's letter."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe he was still stuck on this, after everything they'd been through. How could he not see what he meant to her?

"Ron, I told you, when you left, she was devastated. I don't think she would have reacted the same way if it was someone else."

"Not even Krum?"

"No, not him. Besides, he's a bloody prat," Harry growled.

Ron's head jerked towards Harry in surprise, his eyes wide. This mirrored Hermione, who was also shocked at Harry's language from her eavesdropping post. "Mate, I've never heard you say a bad word against him."

It was Harry's turn to blush and look away. "Er, I had an unpleasant conversation with him at Bill's wedding. You know, when I was in disguise."

"About the thing Old Lovegood was wearing around his neck? What does that have to do with Hermione and I?"

Harry shook his head. "This was when you left the table to start dancing. Krum asked if you were, uh, together."

Ron gasped loudly, drowning out Hermione's own gasp, and sat forward in anticipation. "What did you tell him?"

Harry looked down and scratched his neck, clearly not wanting to have the current conversation. "I said you were sort of together."

Ron clapped him on the back. "Well, that's one way of putting it. What did he say?"

"Nothing really. He was more concerned about cursing Luna's dad. Then, a bit later on, he…" Harry clamped his lips shut.

Hermione leaned forward, straining to hear Harry's voice.

"What?" Ron asked.

Harry continued quickly. "He asked who Ginny was, and said she was pretty. I told him her boyfriend was a big bloke and not to mess with him."

Ron let out a guffaw, which threatened to break out into full-on laughter. "Mate, you are such a hypocrite. The second Krum shows interest in the girl you love, he's a prat. I've been warning you about him for ages."

Ron's chuckles hid Hermione's exclamation of disbelief, his words roaring in her ears.

The girl you love.

Was he finally acknowledging that Harry loved Ginny, or was he, as she hoped, admitting that he loved her? He'd said something like this earlier, when he thought she was out of earshot—something about love and war.

Doubts niggled her thoughts as she watched them, the tea forgotten. All she could think of were his words, her frostiness towards him continuing to melt.

Harry punched Ron's arm. "It's not that funny."

Ron shot him a dirty look and rubbed the spot gingerly. "Ow! See, all Krum does is cause problems. Though I have to say, the look on his face when Hermione accepted my invitation to dance was priceless."

"What was that you said?" Harry dropped his voice an octave in a terrible impression of Ron. "Come and dance?"

"Shut it, wanker. I'll have you know that I actually did have a plan to ask Hermione to dance, but then he showed up and I didn't want to lose my chance."

Hermione sighed quietly, wishing that Ron had been able to do whatever it was he'd intended. At least they did get to dance together, and it had been rather wonderful.

Ron's shoulders slumped, as he stared sadly towards the tent. Hermione bristled and froze, worried he'd somehow detect her presence. "I just hope she can forgive me, one day. Maybe she'll give me another chance. Even if I don't deserve it."

Hermione could feel her eyes dampening, seeing him so broken-hearted. She couldn't doubt the sincerity in his expression, but at the same time, she was scared that he would hurt her again. It had taken all her tears to get past the hurt when he left.

She gathered herself and waited a moment, until Ron had turned back to Harry. Letting out a loud cough to alert them of her presence, she waited another minute before emerging from the tent, the cup held up in front of her.

"Good morning, Hermione." Ron said brightly.

"Good morning, Ron."

She marched up to him and, with slightly shaking hands, offering him the tea. "Here."

Their fingers touched slightly, their first real contact since she'd punched him upon his return. Hermione felt a spark of heat pass through her as he took possession of the mug. Ron looked up and gave her an uncertain smile, which she couldn't return.

"Thank you for taking my watch."

"It was no problem, really."

"I'm going to make us a breakfast, and then we should pack up and go to Luna's."

"Sounds great, whatever you think is best."

Ron and Hermione shared a look, before she made her way back into the tent. Unbeknownst to Harry and Ron, Hermione reoccupied her hidden spot just inside the tent opening and continued watching them for a moment.

Harry piped up, a smirk on his face. "How come she only brought out tea for you?"

Ron was still staring at the opening, a slight grin on his face before looking down at the cup. He took a sip, and his smile grew even larger.

"She doesn't hate me."

Hermione heard it and smiled, before pursing her lips into a thin line. She certainly did not hate him, the opposite in fact.

She just needed time.