A/N: Wow. This story is now on 20 favourites lists and has nearly 50 reviews. A big thank you to everyone who represents those numbers. I wish to pat you all on the head.
Apologies to any Norwegians reading this for showing you up at Eurovision and football all in one night and to any non-Europeans who have no idea what the Eurovision is and call football 'soccer' for going on about them.
Finally a shout out to the person who read this story in Belize, a country I hadn't previously heard of. Hello! According to wikipedia we share a Queen so happy Jubilee!
Fanfiction. It's also educational.
UPDATE 12.8.12: To the anon reviewer from chapter 7: Thank you so much for the review and I'm glad you're enjoying the story but Hermione is the oldest. She was born 19.9.79, Ron - 1.3.80 and Harry 31.7.80. If Hermione had been born in the autumn of the same year as Harry had been born then she would have been in Ginny's year and wouldn't have been of age when they went on the run in DH. Thanks again for reviewing though! :)
And on with the show... Ooh look! The lesser-spotted Harry!
Disclaimer: My therapist tells me that J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter but what does she know?
Shades of Lavender: Through the Mist
( Hey Hermione / Perspective / So am I )
"I hate Snape."
"Really? I thought you were in love with him?"
"I'm serious, Harry. That's why he's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year; so I can't drown him in his own cauldron."
"I had a dream about that once…"
"Why is it when you dream that my dad gets attacked it happens and when you dream about killing Snape it doesn't?"
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe I'm secretly in love with Snape?"
Ron snorted and then burst out laughing. "If you're in love with Snape then I'm in love with..." Ron cast around for something to finish his sentence with. Somehow his original idea of 'Lavender' seemed a tad harsh. "Umbridge."
Harry chuckled and then gazed out of the window for moment while Ron went back to his essay. There wasn't really any point in going back to it, however, as he had no idea what to write. He glanced at his watch and saw it was ten to eight.
"Harry, it's nearly eight," said Ron, snapping Harry out of his reverie.
"What?"
"Dumbledore?" whispered Ron, leaning in a bit so no one would hear him.
Harry scrambled to his feet and shoved his own essay in his bag.
"I'll wait up for you," Ron said as Harry put the lid back on his bottle of ink.
"Yeah, thanks," Harry muttered distractedly. Ron watched a Harry left hurriedly through the portrait hole.
Ron stared after him for a few minutes, lost in his own thoughts. Dumbledore's lessons with Harry were interesting enough but he really couldn't see how they were going to stop Harry becoming Death Eater food. Still, it was Dumbledore. If anybody had a plan to get Harry through all of this safely, it was him.
Sighing, Ron got up and moved to the chair Harry had just vacated, partly because it was a nicer chair and, not only did he get more table space, but he also got to stare out of the window when he became bored of his essay. As this was highly likely (who cared how to protect yourself from lethifolds, really?), he thought this move was a good idea.
He was soon proved wrong however. Sat by the window were Ginny and her friends. Arnold the pygmy puff was running circuits around their legs. With their OWLs coming up, they were probably supposed to be revising but instead they were playing gobstones. As a prefect and her older brother Ron felt he should probably make them stop but that was the sort of thing Hermione would do. At the minute, the less things that reminded him of Hermione, the better.
Since the New Year he had been becoming increasingly desperate to get back on speaking terms with her. When on Christmas Day he had not got a present from her and instead had received that… thing… from Lavender, he had started to miss her. By the time Percy had shown his ugly mug, Ron had needed to speak to her. Normally, when he would rant about Percy to her she would understand and find a way to calm him down. When he told Lavender that Percy had visited on Christmas day she had said "Oh, that must have been nice" and had started snogging him.
He had been with Lavender for three months now. How did she not know the most basic things about him?
When they had got back to Hogwarts, Ron hoped that if he showed he was willing to put their fight behind them then maybe she would be too. Instead, she had completely ignored him. It was worse than before, at least when she was angry she had cared. This new indifference was harder to take than rabid canaries.
What Ron wouldn't give to disappear into a world where he and Harry had decided to take the scenic route back to Gryffindor Tower that night, instead of going through the tapestry… A world where he was blissfully unaware of Hermione's past romantic escapades and he could pretend that Krum really was always just her friend…
Ron groaned and rubbed his tired eyes. He felt like such a girl admitting it but now he wasn't angry with Hermione he could see why he had been so upset by the news of Hermione and Krum. Somewhere in his mind, in the place between dreams and fantasies, he had always thought he would eventually end up with Hermione. Deep down he had wanted her to be his first kiss, not snog, kiss. It would be perfect, the two of them, discovering it all for the first time, together. He had been waiting for her but she hadn't been waiting for him. The thought went through him like a knife and he resolved, as he did most nights, to stop thinking about her.
Like clockwork, Hermione arrived to ruin his resolution and to tell Ginny and her friends to keep the noise down and Ron couldn't help but smile. She was born to be a prefect. It would be a crime against nature if she wasn't made Head Girl next year. Ron loved the way her eyes lit up when she was annoyed with something, her hair crackling with static when she was really hacked off and, best of all, that superior look on her face when she outsmarted someone who was giving her back chat. Three months ago he hated that look. Now he missed it terribly.
It was this that had shocked Ron more than anything, the way he would reminisce about the parts of Hermione that he had once despised but now would pay top galleon to see again. He was still doing his homework at the same lazy pace but he wished someone would nag him to do it quicker. When he swore he could almost hear her exclamation. When she answered a question right in class he wanted to roll his eyes at her but instead the sound of her voice made him want to punch something.
They had fought before but never for this long. Even when he had thought that stupid cat of hers had eaten Scabbers they had made up. Remembering her crying on his shoulder outside of the portrait hole, he found himself missing even overly emotional Hermione. Hell, he even missed Crookshanks.
Why were they even fighting? He was angry about Vicky but he was willing to overlook it now. She was annoyed over not being able to go to Slughorn's party with him but she found a new date soon enough, didn't she? Even if she had meant it as a date, she couldn't possibly feel the same way as he did. If she did she wouldn't be able to ignore him like this while he could barely contain himself around her.
This had gone on long enough, Ron thought, slamming 'Facing the Faceless' shut. They were both too stubborn for their own good but they were still best friends. Ron didn't care if he spoke, whispered or screamed, he just had to say something to her.
Hermione had settled herself down at a table in the corner and kept shooting glances at Ginny, to make sure she was working. Ron stood and started towards her. It was only when he was halfway across the common room that he realised he had no idea what to say.
Unfortunately, when Ron stopped to think, Hermione looked up and saw him approaching. She closed the book she had just opened and got up. She swung her bag over her shoulder and marched towards the portrait hole.
"Hey! Hey- Hermione!" Ron called after her. She stopped but didn't turn to face him.
Ron had no idea what to say or do but knew he couldn't back out now. He was never going to work up the courage to confront her again.
"Hermione, I- I'm-"
"You're what, Ron?" snapped Hermione, spinning around.
Ron froze. He stared into her furious face and saw nothing but hatred. The last time their eyes had met, they had been filled with anger but he was used to that. Well, maybe not at that intensity but still, angry Hermione he could deal with. This was something else. Hermione had never looked like she hated him before.
She raised her eyebrows at his continued silence. He had to fix this before it got any worse.
"Hermione, I'm sor-"
"Won-Won!"
Ron felt a pair of hands block his vision and his hope crash around him. He grabbed Lavender's wrists and yanked them away from his face and saw a flash of brown hair disappear through the portrait hole. Ron knew she would go to the library because that was Hermione; in times of trouble, go to the library.
"What, Lavender?" Ron snapped as she moved in front of him. That stupid smile of hers faded a little at his tone.
"I just wanted to surprise you," she mumbled, looking hurt. Her heavily made up eyes widened to make her look more innocent. When she started batting her magically lengthened eyelashes, Ron caved.
"Sorry, Lavender," he said. "I'm just having a tough day. Snape's essay."
Lavender pulled him into a tight hug that did nothing but leave Ron feeling cold and smiled up at him.
"Don't worry about silly homework now," she said, playing with the back of his hair. "I'm here."
"I really should do it though. It's due in-"
"Fine!" screeched Lavender, letting go of Ron. "If you would rather do work than spend time with me, that's fine!"
Wondering how on earth girls coped with their own mood swings, Ron slumped down on the chair nearest to him. There was a lot of truth in what Lavender had said, he would rather do work than spend time with her. Ron was startled by this revelation. He never expected himself to put homework before snogging.
However, snogging Lavender wasn't what it once was. At first it was new and exciting but now it was just too much. Lavender herself was too much but kissing her was more of a work out than Quidditch practise. Plus Ron didn't like being near her anymore. She was always in his space or touching him. It was suffocating. Lately she'd definitely been over-stepping boundaries, her hands wandering way below his belt. It took all of his self-restraint to stop her; an inner battle where half of him screamed at the other half to let her touch him. He felt bad enough as it was, leading her on like this. If he let their 'relationship' progress, like she kept hinting at him to do, then he didn't know how he could live with himself.
He had taken to letting his mind wander whenever they were together. She would open her mouth and his brain would rush off to the Quidditch pitch. Even when they were kissing, he pondered the greater mysteries of the universe (How Snape could sneer at him via the written feedback of his potions essay among them) rather than think about Lavender. Sometimes he had pretended he was snogging Hermione instead. While this meant kissing Lavender became bearable, it had the downfall of him having to remember it was actually Lavender he was kissing. He had accidently called her Hermione twice now and had somehow managed to get away with it. Ron doubted he would be able to a third time.
Ron looked up to see Lavender storming out of the portrait hole. He had no idea where she was going.
Hermione was in the library and had been for most of the morning. She had gotten up extra early on purpose because she wanted to get away from the common room or anywhere else that Ron was likely to be today. He hated being in the library on a normal day but he would've probably gone mad at the idea of coming here on his birthday. Hermione could just see the look of horror on his face if she had ever suggested it.
Of course, she wouldn't see it as they still weren't talking. It had been three and a half months now. Hermione was still furious with him and it tore her to shreds to see him all over Lavender, she had just got better at hiding it. She had no desire to see whatever ill-fitting gift Lavender had gotten him. She had heard her discussing what he might like with Parvati a couple of weeks ago in their dormitory. The conversation had amused Hermione as much as it had upset her. Lavender had decided to get Ron a bar of Raspberry flavour Honeydukes chocolate ("It's his favourite"), a maroon scarf ("Wouldn't it look lovely with his jumper?") and a gold bracelet with their initials carved on it ("He lost the necklace I got him for Christmas so I have to replace it"). Hermione had sat silently pretending to read on her bed in disbelief. Ron's favourite Honeydukes flavour was peanut butter and honeycomb, everybody knew he hated maroon with a passion and the idea of him wearing any kind of jewellery nearly made her laugh aloud.
Hermione had found herself planning what she would've got Ron had he been deserving of a present. Some kind of chocolate was a given, along with some sort of Quidditch related item. She would've found a book he thought he might like as always. The past couple of years she could've sworn he had actually read the books she had got him. Of course, it was his seventeenth so she would've had to have brought him something special…
It was then that it hit her; Ron was coming of age and she was going to miss it.
Hermione slammed the book she was staring at shut. Massaging her temples with her fingers, she reminded herself that this was his fault, all his fault. Three and a half months and she was still finding new ways to be angry with him. Hermione found herself wondering, and not for the first time, if they would ever be friends again, or if she would ever want to be friends with him again.
"You alright?"
Hermione looked up to see Ginny smiling kindly at her. She sat down opposite her and started to get her books out.
"I'm fine," said Hermione curtly, opening her book again at a random page.
"Well then, you won't want to hear what Lavender was saying earlier then…" Ginny sighed and unfurled a half-finished essay. Hermione ignored her. She had no interest in anything Lavender Brown said.
"Shame, really," Ginny continued, dipping her quill in her ink. "She sounded quite upset."
Hermione's head snapped up. Ginny smirked.
"Go on then, what did she say?" asked Hermione, trying not to sound too eager.
Ginny leant forward so nobody else would hear them.
"Well, when I came down for breakfast she was talking hysterically to Parvati," she said in a low voice. "So naturally, I listened in."
Hermione gave her a reproving look and Ginny raised her eyebrows at her.
"Don't act like you wouldn't have. Anyway," she continued, "apparently when her Prince Witless came down this morning, he completely ignored her."
"Really?" whispered Hermione shocked.
"Actually no, he told her to go away, which is even funnier," chuckled Ginny.
Hermione was stunned. What could this possibly mean? Was he finally bored of Lavender?
"What did she do?" Hermione asked, abandoning her indifferent front.
"She didn't get chance to say anything. He stormed off with Harry, wanting to see Romilda Vane."
"Romilda Vane?"
Ginny nodded and there was a slight pause.
"That makes absolutely no sense," said Hermione dumbfounded.
"I know," said Ginny distractedly, re-reading her essay, her brow furrowed.
Hermione continued to ponder Ron's bizarre behaviour a long time after the conversation was finished. She could think of no reason why he would want to see Romilda Vane, let alone why Harry would accompany him. Concentrating on her work became nearly impossible, which frustrated her greatly. She had come to the library to escape Ron but as always he had squirmed his way to the forefront on her mind. Scowling, Hermione redoubled her efforts to complete her homework.
After around twenty minutes, a small second year nervously approached the table where the two girls were sat.
"Ginny Weasley?" she asked timidly.
Ginny looked up at the sound of her name and smiled in a friendly way at the girl.
"That's me," she said brightly.
The girl gave a small cough and continued talking.
"Professor McGonagall asked me to tell you to go to her office as soon as possible," she mumbled.
"Oh. Right," Ginny replied, wide eyed. "Did she say why?"
"No, only that you should get there quickly."
Ginny looked very confused by all of this. The girl gave them a small smile and walked away while Ginny packed up her things into her bag and stood up.
"What have you done?" asked Hermione shrewdly.
"Nothing!" protested Ginny. "At least nothing McGonagall knows about…"
Hermione laughed and wished Ginny luck before returning to her essay.
It was a good hour before Hermione had finished and decided to grab some lunch. She was slightly concerned that Ginny hadn't returned but decided that she had probably just gone to lunch herself or was with her other friends. She put her books away and started making her way to the Great Hall.
She was walking down a corridor on the first floor when she saw Professor Slughorn approaching from the opposite direction. While she didn't dislike him, she didn't particularly like him either but she couldn't see any way of avoiding a conversation with him.
"Hello, Professor," she said brightly and smiled at him.
"Ah, Miss Granger!" he exclaimed. "Always a pleasure, I see you've been working as usual."
"I was just finishing your essay actually, Professor."
Slughorn turned his hands palm-up and looked towards the ceiling, a huge smile spreading under his thick moustache.
"Of course you were, my dear, of course you were," he said, his overly loud tone embarrassing Hermione somewhat. "I look forward to reading it as ever."
Hermione smiled awkwardly. She always appreciated praise but Slughorn always laid it on a bit too thick.
"Oh, how is your friend Ralf by the way?" he suddenly asked, frowning slightly.
Hermione's heart sank. She had a sneaking suspicion of whom Slughorn was referring to but wasn't in the mood to discuss it.
"I don't have any friends named Ralf, sir," she said politely.
Slughorn frown deepened. Hermione was a little irritated by his forgetting Ron's name. While she was angry with him, she still didn't approve of Slughorn's ignorance.
"I think I've forgotten his name…" he said wonderingly. "Red hair? Rather tall?"
Hermione swallowed. She wouldn't be able to feign ignorance much longer.
"It's his birthday today?"
"Do you mean Ron, sir?" Hermione asked expressionlessly.
Slughorn clapped his hands together jubilantly.
"Yes, of course, Ron," he said loudly. "How is he?"
She didn't want to go into the messy details of her and Ron's relationship so she decided to give Slughorn part of the truth and hope he wasn't too inquisitive. She wondered why Slughorn was so concerned about Ron, when he could barely remember his name.
"I, um, wouldn't know, Sir," she explained. "I haven't spoken to him today."
Or the day before that and the day before that…
"Ah yes, well I'm sure he'll be fine," Slughorn muttered, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I was going to visit him but I've been rather busy…"
Hermione furrowed her brow. She had no idea what Slughorn was taking about. Against her better judgement, she let her curiosity get the better of her.
"If you don't mind me asking, Sir," she began tentatively. "Why would you visit Ron?"
Slughorn blanched.
"Have- have you not heard what happened this morning?" he asked, looking distressed.
Hermione shook her head, dread filling her veins.
"Well, there was a little accident and, well, he was sort of poisoned. Horrid affair really…"
Hermione had stopped paying attention to the Potions Master and started backing away in horror. When she remembered how to use her legs, she ran full pelt towards the hospital wing.
Ron had been poisoned. She had no idea how or why but she didn't care. She distantly heard Slughorn calling after her but she didn't reply. Nothing made sense. Her mind seemed to have ground to a halt and was travelling at the speed of light at the same time. She could feel herself breaking out into a cold sweat and was starting to feel faint but she didn't stop.
Ron couldn't be dead. He was going to be fine. He had to be. Suddenly Lavender didn't matter anymore. Neither did party invitations nor canaries nor did anything else that five minutes ago had been so important to her. All that mattered was that Ron was critically ill and she couldn't remember the last polite thing she had said to him. He was one of her best friends and he had been in a hospital bed for goodness knows how long and she didn't even know about it. She had found out only by accident.
Sprinting up a third staircase, she became numbly aware of a stitch in the chest but ignored it. She loved Ron. So what if he didn't feel the same? So what if she would never be his girlfriend? She was still one of his closest friends and that should be enough for her. Being around him and Lavender was nothing compared to the pain and fear she felt now. She could put up with Lavender if only Ron was alright. In fact, she would welcome it if it meant Ron was still breathing.
As she hurtled around the corner to the hospital wing corridor, Harry and Ginny pacing outside the door, she promised herself she would never risk her friendship with Ron again because of jealousy. He saw their relationship as platonic and she had imagined everything she thought she had seen that contradicted this. She had thought she had wanted Ron to herself. She had thought she could hate him. This was all so insignificant, she realised. All she wanted now was to be able to speak to him again. She would never forgive herself if she was too late.
Ron blearily opened his eyes. Squinting against the bright light coming from somewhere, he tried to shield his eyes, but his arms were too heavy to move and a dull ache gripped his chest painfully. He couldn't work out where he was, although he was fairly certain he was lying down. Gradually, his eyes adjusted to the light and he opened them. Everything was rather hazy but he could make out a person sat on his right. For a moment he thought it was Hermione because of the fuzzy brown halo he could see surrounding a pale face, but it couldn't be her. She hated him.
Blinking, he tried to sit up but couldn't. Obviously Ron had no idea but he was fairly certain that the only thing that could make his entire body protest like this was being hit by the Hogwarts Express. He opened his mouth to call out but he could only manage a groan. At the noise, the person next to him moved closer and spoke to him.
"Ron?"
It was Hermione's voice. It sounded grainy and hoarse but it was definitely hers.
"My-Nee?" he groaned back. His throat felt red raw.
He heard her whimper slightly and felt her hand cover his. Ron started to panic; either he was dreaming or he was dead.
"How're you feeling?" she asked. She sounded so worried… it put him on edge.
"My dead?"
Hermione laughed shakily. "No, Ron," she breathed. "You're ok."
This still didn't make any sense. Why was she here? Where was here anyway?
"Where a my?" he asked groggily.
"The hospital wing," she explained.
"Always… bloody… hospital wing…"
Ron should have learnt by now; if he woke up somewhere, in pain, he would be in a bed and Madam Pomfrey would be nearby. He heard her half laugh, half sob at his comment.
"Yesterday morning you were- you were p-poisoned but you're going to be fine," Hermione whispered.
Poisoned? He blinked again and looked at his surroundings that were becoming clearer by the minute. He was definitely in the hospital wing and it looked as though he was the only patient. Ron started groping the depths of his memory, trying to put together yesterday's events. Why would he have been poisoned?
Before he could question her about it, he heard some water being poured into a glass that was soon being brought to his chapped lips. He drank greedily and felt the burning sensation in his throat lessen. When the glass empty, Hermione sat down again and Ron mumbled a thank you. Ron couldn't remember what happened yesterday to make her start to care for him again so he tried to wrack his brains once more.
"Birthday," he mumbled, trying to sit up. He still couldn't but he managed to pull himself a little higher on his pillows.
Hermione looked concerned at him trying to move. "Yes, Ron, it was your birthday. You ate some chocolate that was spiked with love potion by accident-"
"Romilda Vane?" The pictures were starting to form in his head but they seemed to have happened in a dream. Hermione half smiled at him being able to remember this small detail.
"Romilda gave them to Harry and he never threw them away. Anyway, Harry took you to Slughorn and he gave you the cure," Hermione explained quickly. The colour suddenly drained from her face. "Then he gave you some mead to cheer you up and- and- well, it had poison in it. Harry gave you a bezoar and then you were brought here. Your parents were here for most of the night but they wouldn't let the twins, Harry, Ginny or I stay. Apparently you woke up later in the evening but you weren't really with it," she finished in a low voice.
Ron stared at her worried face and tried to get his brain in gear. Someone had tried to poison him and Harry had saved his life. None of this yet explained why Hermione was here but he didn't want to breach the subject; maybe she had just forgotten their falling out, he thought optimistically.
"Should probably watch what I eat in the future," he said, smiling with great effort.
Hermione gave him a small smile in agreement.
"Do you know who it was?" he asked, scared of the answer. He couldn't work out why someone would attack him.
Hermione shook her head. "Dumbledore is really worried. It's just like Katie all over again."
Ron looked out of the window opposite his bed. He had nearly died yesterday and nobody knew why. If he wasn't so groggy, he would be terrified but instead he was just confused.
"Where's Harry? I think I owe him a thank you," he said wryly. It seemed strange that his best friend wasn't here but the girl who couldn't stand to be in his presence was.
"Oh, he's down at breakfast," she replied, fiddling with the hem of her robes, unable to meet his eyes. Ron felt he was getting closer to a reason for Hermione's sudden forgiveness but she seemed reluctant to discuss it.
"So how come you're her- I mean, not at breakfast too?" he corrected himself quickly. Ron was desperate to know but didn't want to appear to be.
Hermione's cheeks started to go pink. "Oh, I wasn't really hungry."
Now that his vision was almost back to normal, he could see that Hermione looked quite ill. She had bags under her red-tinged eyes and her hair was bushier than usual. It looked as though she hadn't slept very well.
"So… why are you here?"
Ron looked at her and hoped she would return his gaze. Instead, Hermione seemed fascinated by her knees. It had been so long since Ron had been able to see her this closely without her walking off and he couldn't help but stare. He had expected her to have changed somehow but she hadn't. She was the same Hermione she had been after the Quidditch match. For some reason, this was a great comfort to Ron.
Eventually, when she could no longer avoid the question, she shrugged and looked at him.
"I was worried… about you," she whispered. Ron's imagination went into overdrive and he saw Hermione in his mind's eye crying herself to sleep in Gryffindor Tower, not knowing if he was going to be alright. This image sent waves of guilt crashing over him for his behaviour over the past few months. He realised his pride was nowhere near as important as the girl who was skipping breakfast to sit next to his hospital bed in spite of everything that had happened between them.
"Look, Hermione," he began, unsure of exactly what he was going to say. "I'm so so-"
"It's fine, Ron," Hermione cut in. "So am I."
The two friends grinned sheepishly at each other. Despite being in a fair bit of pain, Ron felt a balloon of joy inflate inside of him; Hermione had never hated him, she had just been exceedingly angry.
Suddenly the hospital doors opened and Lavender Brown stormed in, looking deeply upset. She saw Ron lying in bed and ran over to him. Ron's stomach sank. He had completely forgotten about her. Ron exchanged a worried glance with Hermione, who looked as though she wanted to throw herself under the bed and hide.
"Won-Won!" she wailed. "I only just heard about-"
Lavender stopped just short of Ron's bed and finally noticed Hermione. Before Lavender could even begin to process her presence, Hermione, blushing furiously, had stood up.
"Well, look after yourself, Ron," blurted out and started making her way to the exit before Ron could reply.
Ron stared after her before Lavender's voice brought his attention back to her.
"I thought you two weren't friends anymore. Why was she here? How did she find out before me, your girlfriend? Ron? What's going on?"
Ron gaped at Lavender standing in front of him, hands on her hips, her face a picture of fury. This was going to be a very horrible conversation and he found himself wishing, and not for the first time, that Lavender wasn't the girl he was in a relationship with.
A/N 2: Yes, yes I know a HBP hospital wing scene, very original. The reason I wrote it was to show that no explanation was given on either side as to why the fight happened. I've read fics where Ron admits he knows about Krum, Hermione admits she was jealous and they still don't manage to get together, which seems a bit unrealistic to me. This way Hermione is just glad that Ron's alive, Ron is just happy to be speaking to her again and nothing is truly sorted, leading to more unanswered questions and UST. Ron and Hermione - King and Queen of communication as ever.
Although if you think this was just yet another 'HBP Hermione visiting Ron' fic then I'm sorry. I promise to do better next time.