Chapter 4: A SPROUT OF GUILT

"And I'll sit in wonder of every love that could've been. If I'd only thought of something charming to say" – Death Cab for Cutie

"Ron! Ron, wait!" cried Hermione, slightly out of breathe as she tried to catch up, her shoulder aching under her bag of heavy books. Ron swiftly glanced back, saw who it was and came to a halt. His expression though, told her that he'd rather not want to discuss whatever she wanted to say.

The air was clean and crisp, and a gentle wind ruffled his red hair as he waited for her. But before she could even begin to talk, he was determined to have his say first.

"Hermione, I don't want to hear it."

"But –"

"If Harry was stupid enough to put his name into that cup thinking it would get him more attention, it certainly worked," replied Ron gruffly as he spotted a group of Slthyerins walk past, bearing Potter Stinks badges on their chests.

"Ron," interjected Hermione exasperatedly, "you can't honestly think he put his name into that cup… and you know he didn't say all those things in that stupid interview with Rita Skeeter."

Ron simply took a deep breath of annoyance. "I'm glad Madam Pomfrey managed to undo that nasty spell Crabbe set on you… here let me give you a hand," he said as he took Hermione's bag, which she was very grateful for.

As they began to stroll through the expansive grounds, noticing the cold air as winter approached, a comfortable silence fell between them. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the sky was clear and neither of them wanted to start the inevitable topic on Hermione's mind. Finally, Hermione began to speak in an irritated voice,

"I thought… I thought you two would make up by now, after having detention with Snape together the other night."

"Fat chance," muttered Ron. They were now walking downhill towards the Black Lake, where they spotted the Giant Squid gliding lazily past the Durmstrang ship.

"Oh if only both of you would get over yourselves, everything would go back to normal!" said Hermione. He noticed that her eyes held a hint of desperation behind them. "Half the school think he's an attention-seeking lunatic, waiting for the chance to get killed, and we're supposed to be his best friends, Ron! If we don't believe him, who will?" but before he could reply, she continued hurriedly, "Think about it, he can't have put his name in that cup – we're only fourth years! I think someone else must have done it!"

They came to a halt underneath the beech tree.

"Yes, yes we know," said Ron, rolling his eyes as they sat down in the tree's shade, "someone's always out to kill him. I s'pose we ought to be used to it by now."

"That's not funny," said Hermione quietly, avoiding his gaze as she studied the Durmstrang ship. "He could die Ron, people die in tournaments like these. We don't even know what's coming up in the first task and I don't think he's prepared very much at all... we should be helping him. Can't you just… just make up with him?" she asked, with a tone of urgency in her voice.

Ron looked away, feeling a sprout of guilt building up inside him. He knew Hermione was right, deep down. He had spent evening after evening alone in the common room, trying to concentrate on his homework, although his mind kept returning to the things he had done and said to his best friend. He had spent days listening to the rumors circulating the corridors between classes, and every time someone had said something rather snide about Harry, he had to fight the urge to tell them off. Ron knew deep down that Harry probably didn't put his name in that cup, but he still couldn't figure out what stopped him from ending this fight. Wanting to change the topic, he turned to the girl sitting next to him, who was waiting timidly for a response.

"… There are supervisors on standby Hermione, don't worry so much. Besides, what could lowly Ron Weasley do for the great Harry Potter anyway? You know that no one cares what I have to say Hermione. You've heard Malfoy say what everyone else is thinking at every chance he gets… I'm just Potter's poor sidekick –"

"No, no you're not," Hermione said suddenly, looking into his blue eyes as she grabbed his hand. She didn't let go. They stared into each other's eyes in silence, Ron surprised at Hermione's interruption, and Hermione was at lost for words, although her eyes told him there was much more she wanted to say.

She had never really suffered from this type of internal struggle before. She was always reliant on her logical thinking process, which always eventually told her what the right thing to do or say was. However, as she began to lose herself in those eyes, her mind was unexpectedly blank. She could feel her heart rapidly beating faster as she noticed the freckles on his nose, and was startled when she realized that she found the puzzled look on his face endearing.

"You're more than just a sidekick and you know it," she said fiercely, "you're funny and resourceful a-and brave, and I don't know what we'd do without you… what I'd do without you."

She could feel the heat rise in her neck as she noticed his ears turn slightly pink. Yet, he still continued to stare at her in silence. Hermione noticed his palm getting sweaty as she continued to hold his hand. She took it as a good sign when he didn't move it away.

Instead, he was gripping her gently back, holding her hand too.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, his voice hoarse. Clearing his throat, he leaned slightly forward, his face inching closer to hers with every passing second. She felt as if her heart had stopped working altogether, and holding her breath she could feel the nerves in her stomach rise.

'This is it' she thought, as she closed her eyes and waited.

However, instead of feeling his lips coming into contact with hers, she felt his thumb on her cheek. It lingered there for a few seconds, almost caressing her supple skin, before brushing something off.

"Just getting rid of an eyelash," he murmured as she opened her eyes in surprise. Quickly feeling embarrassed, she let go of his hand and brushed her cheek.

Before she could say anything however, a group of Durmstrang boys approached them, laughing and talking jovially, which distracted Ron instantly.

"God I hate them," he whispered darkly under his breath, not noticing her flushed cheeks. They were much taller than both Ron and Hermione, wearing their red capes which outlined their muscular frames.

"Just ignore them," replied Hermione.

As the boys got closer, much of their conversation could be overheard.

"Vot do you think this school is playing at? It's so pathetic they had to cheat and get two players just so that they had a chance of vinning!" exclaimed one of them, whilst the others chuckled in response.

"You should've heard Karkaroff! He vants to write to the committee and complain!" the others nodded in agreement, "but none of them are any match for our Krum! He'll thrash that Potter in the first task for sure. Ve should just finish him off ourselves you know, maybe jinx him ven he's got his back turned…"

Suddenly, Ron was on his feet. As he whipped out his wand and rounded on them, Hermione groaned to herself as she hurriedly joined Ron, preparing to stop him from doing anything rash. The boys that they were confronting were wearing stunned looks, but they swiftly took out their own wands from underneath their robes.

"Don't even think about it," said Ron through gritted teeth. His knuckles were turning white from gripping his wand so hard.

"Or vot?" said one of the boys, his thick eyebrow raised at Ron's challenging stance.

"No Ron, you mustn't!" cried Hermione, tugging at the sleeve of his robes, "they're not worth it!"

Ron didn't move.

"He didn't put his name in that cup. We don't play dirty here," said Ron frowning at them.

"It certainly doesn't look that vay," said one of the other boys.

"Yeah well, who cares what way it looks like? If I catch you even pointing you wand at Harry while his back's turned, it'll be the last thing you do!" said Ron angrily.

"Ron! Please… let's just go. I think they understand," whispered Hermione, now tugging at his arm. Reluctantly, Ron lowered his wand.

"Er – just… just go back to your ship," said Hermione, relief evident in her voice as she noticed the other boys also lowering their wands.

As Ron and Hermione turned away, one of the Durmstrang boys had raised his wand again.

"Impedi –"

"PROTEGO!" yelled Hermione, turning around and brandishing her wand, her bushy hair whipped around her as she blocked the spell. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Ron swore very loudly as they watched all three boys suddenly turn solid and drop to the ground with gentle thuds. "Those sneaky little bastards! Right when we had turned our backs Hermione! You can't trust any of them!" he exclaimed with disgust.

"… What should we do with them?" asked Hermione, her eyes wide with shock at what she had just done.

"I say we just leave them here. Let someone else find them."

"Well… alright…" replied Hermione, although it was obvious she wasn't sure they were doing the right thing.

"C'mon," said Ron as he slipped an arm around her shoulders, picking up her bag and steering her in the direction towards the castle. They treaded carefully in silence, Ron's arm still around Hermione, with a look of deep concentration on his face.

"So you admit it," said Hermione in a soft voice, breaking the silence.

"Admit what?" "That Harry didn't put his name into that cup, and that deep down you care if he dies or not!" flustered Hermione.

"I suppose so… just… just give me time Hermione, I'll always have Harry's back but I'm not quite ready to talk to him yet."

Somewhat satisfied with the response, they continued up the grassy slopes towards the castle, Hermione silently wondering why a tiny part of her enjoyed having his body so close to hers.