Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Je ne possѐde pas Harry Potter. That's I don't own Harry Potter in French, I think. I don't really speak French so I was just taking a stab.

A/N: Hello! Thank you for sticking with this story, if you have stuck with this story, I sort of abandoned it and then decided to un-abandon it… Anyways Hermione's POV again, but some Ron's is coming a little bit later. Hermione's writing will be the same as it was (like this) and Ron's will be a tad different (like this) just so that you can distinguish whose thoughts are who.

"Ron? Ron. Ron, please stop and listen to me, just for a second." I begged, as he walked quickly and angrily away from me. He turned so quickly I nearly ran into him.

"What, Hermione?" He said, and I was singed under the look in his eyes. I knew that look, it was the look of deepest hurt and disappointment. I had seen that look before; in second year, when he got the Howler from his mother, that was disappointment in himself. Earlier this year, when Harry's name got drawn out of the Goblet of Fire, that was disappointment in Harry, that Harry would lie to him. But this time, the disappointment was in me. "What?"

"Ron, it wasn't what it looked like." I said, and I knew how feeble it sounded, how corny.

"Then what?" He said, sounding angrier than I had ever heard him. "Why is nothing ever as it seems with you, Hermione? I can't keep up; there is always a higher theory, something I don't know. One minute you're mad at me for not taking you to the ball, next minute you're all over Viktor Krum again. Why can't you just say what you're thinking sometimes?"

I was speechless for a moment, until I realized something. He was right. This was my chance to tell Ron exactly what I thought.

I sighed and braced myself for the truth, the truth for him and the truth for me. "I never wanted to go to the Ball with Viktor Krum. I was hoping someone else would ask me." I paused for a moment, pondering how to continue.

"Who? Harry?" Ron asked. He honestly didn't know. Gosh, he was thick sometimes.

"No, Ron. You."

"Wha-, What?" He stammered.

"Ron, ever since first year, in the bathroom, when you saved me from the Troll, I wished that you would notice me, think of me as more than a friend, and I know how stupid this all sounds, but you wanted to know what I was thinking, so there it is." I blushed bright red and looked at the floor to avoid meeting his eyes. Ron's mouth was hanging open and he had a slightly glazed look in his eyes.

"Bloody hell, Hermione!" He exclaimed. "That's what you thought all this time?"

"Well...well," I stuttered. "Yes." I replied after a long pause, blushing deeply. This was so unlike me! I was a bookworm, not this sad excuse for a romantic!

We both looked around awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. "Oh-kayy." He said drawing the two syllables out. "I'll see you in the Common Room then." He said, and then he walked off.

I stood gaping for a second, sorely disappointed; that was not how I had wanted that to end.

"Alright," I said out loud, making my voice as indifferent as I could make it. "See you later."

Now who was doing the aching? I watched his retreating back and wondered why it hurt so much that he was so, well, nonchalant. I wondered why he didn't feel the same. If we weren't compatible, we wouldn't hang out so much, right?

~*~

Bloody hell! That was stupid. She was hinting pretty heavily that she liked me. And what did I do? I rejected her. Good one Ron. She'd been honest with me when I'd asked her to be, so why couldn't I admit I liked her in return? It wasn't that hard. But the truth was I wasn't sure I liked her in that way. She was my best friend, but could I see her as my girlfriend? I wasn't so sure.

I walked into the Common Room and slumped down in one of the good armchairs, near the fire. Should I give it another go? Should I tell her I like her that I was going to ask her, I just never had the courage? Or was it too little too late?

"Want to play some Wizards Chess?" Harry asked coming out of the boy's dormitory and interrupting my thoughts.

"No, I, uh, have to do…something." I replied, making a speedy escape. Harry watched, slightly puzzled, from behind me. I stood just outside the Portrait Hole for a few minutes, unsure of what to do next. I was pretty sure I would find Hermione in the Library, that was where she usually was if she wasn't with me or Harry, or in the Common Room. I walked straight into the library (somewhere I rarely visited) letting the door slam behind me.

"Sssshhh!" The librarian said angrily glaring at me over the tops of her glasses.

"Sorry." I whispered, and was instantly shooshed by an angry seventh year. I resolved to stay silent while in the library from then on. I really couldn't grasp what Hermione liked about the place so much, it was a boring place filled with boring people and boring books. And an angry Librarian. Tip-toeing past each row of shelves, I spotted Hermione sitting and reading, her head in her hand, looking fantastically…Hermione. I'd made my decision, and as I stood looking at her, she looked up and met my eyes with her deep, chocolate brown ones.

So there's a bit of Ron just to even it out. Hope you liked it, and, as always, please review!

- mrs. malfoy x