So thanks to those that did review last chapter. This one, in my opinion, is much better than the last chapter. I'd say this story is about half-way through. Exciting, if I do say so myself.

Read & review!

Chapter Ten

Hermione woke the next morning to find herself in the same position as a few nights earlier. But this time, she was awake and Harry was sound asleep. She pried herself from his grasp, and pulled on some clothes.

She recalled this new feeling as she woke up next to him; whenever she had woken to Viktor being with her, she always felt as though it wasn't right. Yet, this infidelity with Harry felt, well, right. Hermione sat down on the bed next to him, watching as his chest rose and fall. She lightly traced her finger on the slightly sunken scar on his forehead; he confessed to her that he hated it, it made him feel branded. Hermione had smiled that time and shook her head as she brushed his hair away from obscuring it. Personally, she found it soothing that such a small mark changed all together who he was and what others viewed him as.

Hermione got up from the bed, careful not to wake him. She closed the door lightly behind her and then walked towards the kitchen. She was perfectly unaware that Ron had seen her leave Harry's room, happy and dazed. He couldn't fathom what had happened between his two best friends. However, he did not mention it as he was healing from another hangover and did not feel like having an awkward ambiance to be cast over their home.

"Good morning," she said as she sat herself down next to him.

He grumbled something back as he read the newspaper with difficulty.

"Rough night?"

Ron shrugged. "Hangover."

She smiled. "Do you want me to help?"

He nodded, gratefully. "It wasn't too bad of a date. We... both of us just got a little tipsy."

"Oh really?" Hermione laughed.

Ron nodded as he went over to the refrigerator and took out an ice pack. Hermione handed him the aspirin and the glass. He grunted as he quickly downed them both and laid his head on the ice pack.

"Are you going to see her again?"

"I hope so," he said against the table. "She wasn't ugly."

Hermione smiled as she took the paper over to herself. "Well, that's good."

After a few minutes, he began to feel relief and lifted his head again. He was shocked to see that Hermione wasn't showing any signs of something between herself and Harry. Any other time when he was either completely sober or drunk, Ron would have approached the subject demanding to know everything.

But lucky for the two of them, he was too piqued to do so.

She received the first letter around noon of that day. It had her name in his handwriting, messy but somewhat legible.

Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to open it. She didn't know. So Hermione thrust it in her dresser and forced herself to forget about it. She didn't want to know what he was thinking or what he thought these days. She didn't want to know if he was changing and wanted her back or if he wanted her to never come home.

So she shoved the letter in the drawer along with the memories and constant apprehension. Hermione told herself she didn't need him; she never really did.

Once she stepped out of her room, she spotted Harry at the kitchen counter and caught a glimpse of Ron slamming the door behind him.

"Where's he off to?" she asked as she walked up the hallway.

Harry yawned. "Fred and George's."

Hermione stood next to the counter, tugging at the frayed bottom of her sweatshirt. "Harry, about this... this thing –"

He knew what was coming. She was feeling guilty. Hermione wanted out.

"– I don't know if it's working," she finished softly. Harry braced himself as he felt his stomach fall farther down.

Harry actually had feelings for Hermione, as strange and obscured as they were. However, she was an orthodox type of person and Hermione felt she just couldn't do that anymore, to herself, to Harry and even to Ron.

He let out a shaky breath.

"It's funny," he said quietly, his head bowed down as he tapped his fingers rhythmically against the counter. "That the ones we trust most hurt us the most."

He spat the last part and stormed up from his seat. Harry stomped down the hallway, careful not to let his frustration out in the open. He so badly wanted her to come up from behind and grasp his shoulder, tell him she was kidding, she was sorry.

Hermione watched with misery as he stormed away. She didn't know whether she wanted this or if it was only for the better of things. But Hermione was scared.

It could be that Viktor had gotten her to thinking that, yes, you can love someone but in time they won't love you back anymore and they might just hurt you in unthinkable ways. Hermione couldn't place what made her end it all, with just a few words, followed by a trenchant response from Harry. Maybe he was right. And maybe she was wrong.

Or maybe she should have just left everything behind, away from Viktor, Ron and mostly Harry. She had never felt that way about him but all of sudden she did. Hermione found her self adoring everything about him, even though it was so wrong. He knew her secrets and she knew a few of his.

Maybe the two of them were never meant to be, just an experiment to test it all out. Not meant to last.

Hermione found herself once more in a terrible position; only it was worse this time. Hermione wasn't a victim. Suddenly, she found herself as the cause to all of it.