A/N: YES I KNOW, THE FIGHT IS...BAD. It is pretty hilarious in its on special way though.
Hermione stayed in the library for hours on end, debating whether she should be ashamed for not talking to Ron or filled with total bliss because she didn't have to put herself through that trauma. At around two o'clock in the morning, she was still confused. I could go up there now and talk to him, because he's probably still working on his DADA essay. But what if he's still mad at me? Oh poo…love stinks!
"I figured you'd be in here, avoiding conflict." Hermione looked up and saw Draco staring down at her, looking slightly disappointed.
Hermione covered her face with her hands. "I'm such a failure!" she cried, her voice muffled. She felt her eyes fill with tears.
Draco sighed and pulled up a chair beside her. "Hermione, you're making this a lot harder then it has to be. Just tell him." He put a hand on her shoulder, trying his best to comfort her, but he couldn't help feeling extremely awkward.
Hermione pulled her hands away and looked at him, her cheeks all blotchy. "But I'm scared Draco, scared of being hurt. Because if he doesn't like me..then-"
"Then you'll feel like every other human being on this earth who's been rejected. It's a fact of life. But I don't think you're going to have to deal with that, because he most definitely likes you." Draco began fiddling with the edge of his robe, he still felt awkward. "I mean, I see the way he looks at you, all love struck and pathetic. Oh yes, he's got it bad!" Draco stood up and yawned loudly. "Just go tell him how you feel, do it now, at least it will be over with. And please don't let me find you still in here tomorrow morning..."
Hermione nodded her head. "Okay, I'll go talk to him," she whispered nervously.
Hermione made her way from the library up to Gryffindor Tower. Yes, she was still in a state of panic, but Draco was right. If she didn't get it over with then she'd never have the guts to do it.
She reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who opened one sleepy eye and swung open without a word.
"Thanks," Hermione said, a little surprised, but the only response she got were the snores of the Fat Lady as she closed behind her.
She paused and looked around the common room. The fire was very dim, and she noticed a few spilt butterbeers over by the tables where the Second Years hung around. With a wave of her wand the mess began to clean itself up, and she watched in amusement as the empty bottles began beating each other up in hopes of getting to the rubbish bin first.
She heard someone shuffling around in the back corner of the common room and she froze. She looked in the direction of the sound and saw a slouched lanky figure hovering over an unfinished essay.
"Oh, it's just you Ron," she sighed in relief. Ron yelped and stood up quickly, sending his ink flying, making yet another mess.
"Bloody hell Hermione!" he yelled, taking in a deep breath. He waved his wand and the ink too began to clean itself up. "Could you not scare the shit out of me next time?"
Hermione jumped at the word. "Ron please," she said in a harsh whisper, "watch your language."
Ron moved into the light of the fire, making the flaming red of his hair shine and the totally pissed look on his face even more apparent. "I'll say what I damn well please, Granger."
Hermione felt her mouth drop in shock, but then she quickly closed it, determined to keep her composure. "What on earth is wrong with you Rona- I mean Weasley!"
Ron took a step forward. "What's wrong with me? Well first you totally avoid me all morning after potions, then you completely bitch me out over a bloody detention! And then I see you having a civil conversation with that…that…that traitor!"
Hermione felt the anger rise quickly. "How dare you call him that!" she screamed. "He has been a better friend to me in the past five months then you have been over the past SEVEN YEARS!"
Ron looked simply infuriated. "Better friend huh? If that's how you feel then maybe we shouldn't be friends!" he growled, lowering his head and taking another step forward. "Because that would suit me just fine! I wouldn't have to deal with your constant PMS all the damn time!"
Hermione sucked in a breath and before thinking of the consequences, pointed her wand at Ron's almost finished essay and screeched Disapero! A bolt of yellow swirled around his essay and in a flash it was gone, save a blank bit of parchment.
Ron rushed to his essay, or what was his essay, in a panic. He stared down at it, looking like he was about to cry. Then he slowly turned back to face Hermione, his face screwed up in rage. "You self centered, ignorant, pratty, spoilt, annoying, PMS consumed-"
Hermione pointed a threatening finger. "Don't you dare-"
"-LITTLE BBIITTCCHH!" Ron roared, his voice echoing.
Losing all sanity, Hermione lunged herself at Ron, hitting him consistently. "How dare you call me that!" she yelled in hysteria. "How dare you think you can just treat me this way!"
In a swift motion Ron grabbed her forearms and pinned them to her sides. Angry that he had overpowered her, Hermione kicked him in the shin with all her might.
"OOOOOWWWWWWW!" Ron yelped in pain. He glared at Hermione. "I bloody well hate you." His voice was very low and scary.
"Well I hate you too, you thick git!" Hermione fired back, angry tears spilling down her cheeks. She stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face. "Go burn in the fiery pits of hell!"
Ron looked, if possible, even angrier. He shook his head, grabbed Hermione and crashed his lips down hard upon hers.
Hermione was shocked. Ron's arms snaked around her waist. The kiss was passionate, but hard and rough, not exactly what Hermione had expected from her first kiss with him. He moved quickly from her lips to her neck, kissing any exposed skin, letting out year's worth of desire. Then he kissed her again, this time more soft and sweet.
Hermione kissed back with everything she had. This is actually happening. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her trembling fingers play with his flaming hair, when she suddenly came to her senses.
Gritting her teeth she pushed him away with all her strength, causing him to stumble backward, looking elated and confused.
"H-How could you? You think you can say you 'bloody well hate me' and then snog me senseless?" She covered her face with one hand, crying softly. "Why do you hurt me so?" her voice was barely audible. With a choked sob she turned and rushed up the girl's staircase, leaving Ron staring up after her, feeling the lowest of the low.
Forty five minutes later Ron was sitting on one of the large cushy couches, staring at the fire. His emotions were running in all sorts of directions. He hated Hermione for how she tortured him, yet he loved her indescribably. He was envious of Draco for his friendship with Hermione, yet he knew there would never be anything between them. He grabbed a pillow and began to punch it relentlessly, pretending it was Draco's head. Well…it made him feel better.
"Ron? Are you down there?" Harry called, making his way down the boy's staircase. "By the pillow punching sounds I'd say 'yes'." He made his way toward Ron and flopped down on the couch beside him.
Ron stopped dismembering the pillow as he looked over at Harry. "I wish drugs were legal, and then maybe I wouldn't feel like total rubbish."
Harry chuckled. "Hugs not drugs mate." He looked over at Ron, concern etched in his handsome features. "But really, what exactly happened? I heard shouting, and the only ones in Gryffindor who can make such a heated ruckus are you and 'Mione."
Ron stared at the carpet feeling ashamed. "Well, we started arguing, about…stuff. It was really bad. I said I hated her, and she said she hated me…" Ron was now twisting the poor pillow in his hands. "And then I sort of…grabbed her and snogged her." Ron gave Harry a sheepish look.
Harry burst out laughing. "Took you long enough you stubborn git!" His laughter slowly died when he saw that Ron wasn't joining in. "Oh," he muttered, clearing his throat, "she wasn't to happy about that was she?"
Ron shook his head. "She kissed back at first, but then she pushed me away because…well…because I had said I hated her right before I kissed her."
"Smooth Ron." Harry said. His friend just didn't understand girls, although nether did he by any means.
"I don't get it though," Ron continued, "I thought it was kind of romantic in its own special way."
Harry sighed. "Well obviously she didn't agree."
Ron glanced over at his best friend. "Obviously…what am I going to do?"
Harry shrugged. "Talk to her. Just maybe she'll listen."
Hermione slammed the door to her dormitory, causing Parvarti to sit up with a start. "Will you try to keep it down?" she said harshly, but her face immediately softened when she spotted Hermione's tear stained cheeks. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly.
"Everything," Hermione choked out, crawling onto her bed and pulling the curtains around her. She curled up in a warm ball on her nice soft mattress, trying to fight back the choking sobs that were rattling through her body. It wasn't really working. She heard the door open and then close gently, and then all was quiet except for Lavender's ferocious snores.
She focused on the small stream of moonlight that was peaking in through the curtains around her bed, anything to get Ron out of her mind. What had happened back there was surprising to say the least. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
She heard the door open again and someone growl, "Why are you taking me here in the middle of the bloody night?" Hermione recognized the grouchy voice, it was Ginny.
Hermione pulled the curtain away from her bed and glanced, feeling ashamed, in Ginny's direction. Ginny glared back at her, it was obvious that she had been woken up against her will.
"What's going on?" she questioned, giving Hermione a hard look. "This better be good, because I was having an awesome dream."
Hermione moved to the edge of her bed, sucked in a breath, and looked Ginny in the eye. "I should have listened to you a long time ago. I'm afraid I've ruined everything…" She then proceeded to explain, pausing occasionally for sob breaks, what had happened down in the common room.
Ginny sighed. "I'm sorry. I'll beat the prick up tomorrow. He knows better." She wrapped her arms around Hermione and pulled her in a tight hug. "Don't worry; I think this will all just work itself out, no matter how twisted and complicated it ends up being. Harry and I had it rough too, you know." Hermione nodded, staring down at her clasped hands. Ginny gave her a pat on the shoulder before sauntering back off to bed.
Hermione lay back down on her bed, this time concentrating on the ceiling. Her head ached from crying so much; she felt like a silly, overemotional schoolgirl. She rolled over a few times, trying to make up stories in her mind, a pastime that usually helped sleep find her faster. She thought of what might have happened if she hadn't hidden up in the library, if she had found her courage and talked to Ron sooner. Although these certainly weren't bedtime stories, they did the trick. Sleep did in fact find Hermione.
Hermione's dreamless sleep was awoken the next morning with sunshine, very bright sunshine. She mumbled something incoherent and rolled onto her other side, away from the light that didn't by any means match her mood.
"Good morning! Or should I say bonjour!Or bon matin? I'm sorry, foreign languages have never been my strong point."
What on earth? Hermione turned her face toward the voice and opened her eyes, but just barely. She saw a flash of flaming red hair as someone pulled back her curtains. Since when has Ginny been a morning person?
"Ginny, you know I had a hard night. It's Saturday, could you spare me some more sleep time?"
"No can do I'm afraid. Oh and by the way my name isn't Ginny, its Lily."
Hermione's eyes opened wide and she sat straight up in bed. She turned her head slowly and looked at the girl who apparently wasn't Ginny. Oh no, this wasn't Ginny. Feeling confusion and panic sweep over her she searched around the room with her eyes. Where's Lavender and Parvarti? Where's my truck? Crookshanks?
Her brown eyes landed on a small calendar that was perched on her nightstand. May 28, 1978.
Wait……what?