Regrets

(Hermione)

How much more inappropriate could she possibly have reacted? She felt like a bully, like one of her mean classmates from childhood or like Malfoy and his croonies...

Or maybe not like those people. No, she thought, as she lay in bed and let herself be calmed by Ginny's soft snoring; she hadn't been rude on purpose.

It rather was a Lavender-and-Parvati-type of rudeness; ignorant of her own words.

It was the "Why aren't you spending more time on your looks, Hermione? It could really do you some good, your hair is so weird sometimes!"-form of arrogance.

Normally, Ron was the insensitive one among the two of them.

But it wasn't entirely her fault! Everyone had been surprised to see Ron become a new prefect! The twins and Harry and Ginny and his Mum,...

Hermione gulped and closed her eyes horror stricken as the realisation of this sank in. Everyone had been surprised to see Ron become a new prefect...

He didn't deserve this.

Now that she thought about it, Ron wasn't such a bad choice for Gryffindor's prefect, after all. Harry had been everyone's first guess, with his many talents and achievements and given the special bond he seemed to share with Dumbledore...

But Harry could be so edgy, at the moment; he still hadn't recovered from seeing Cedric die, and he also was so easily distracted, sometimes. Harry was wonderful and smart and a nice friend, but momentarily he was generally testy, and complicated, and still too overwhelmed by the whole situation he now found himself in.

And Ron...

Ron was...

Well..

Why had she been so surprised by him being praised, by him being successful for once?!

No, she corrected herself, fidgeting again beneath her sheets, not for once. Ron was not some kind of loser or idiot! He was...

Well, what exactly was he?

Hermione sighed.

The truth was, that she didn't want to think about this kind of stuff too much. It was so much easier to not concentrate on it. Look at Ginny, she would tell herself, look at how difficult it has been for her to even be in the same room as Harry,- for years!,- just because she couldn't stop herself from constantly admiring him!

No, Hermione knew that she couldn't bring herself to a point like that. But, yes, right there in her head were tons and tons of thoughts about Ron, never to be said out loud probably. Well, or at least not right now. In a distant, foggy future, maybe; when they were a little older and when things were... different.. But that was another topic better not to focus on too much.

Basically, Hermione wanted nothing more right now than to have her time-turner back. Just a quick swish of her thumb over tiny metallic wheels, and she would be able to change her behaviour from earlier, to react differently and not have to see that defiant, slightly frustrated expression on his features at the realisation how little faith everyone had in him and his abilities...

Hermione shook her head, ashamed of all of this.

And then she suddenly noticed how the impossible prospect of misusing a time-turner was not really worrying her at all, in this instant.

If she had her time-turner back, right now, she might really do something about that horribly embarrassing moment. She might just erase it. Erase her stupid reaction to something that was so great.

Would she really break international wizard law,- and use an important proof of her favourite teacher's strong trust in her,- just to protect Ron from an uncomfortable situation?

Maybe she would.

Huh.

The thing was that Ron could be so terribly, terribly insecure. She hadn't seen it there, a long time ago, when he had just been that lanky, red-haired boy with freckles and dirt on his nose who happened to be Harry Potter's best friend.

But now, as they were older and since he had become Ron for her, she knew that envy and jealousy and fear of not reaching the same things his many brothers had was setting him under a lot of pressure. A part of her,- a slightly selfish one, too,- was relieved to know about this side of him, to be aware of its existence, because, really, not many people could understand fear of failure better than her. Another, bigger part of her just wanted him to get rid of his insecurities, of his useless fears,- but that part worked closely together with all the unspoken truths about him she hid in her mind, so it also wasn't really a problem she could focus on, right now.

As Ginny snored louder than ever, Hermione left the comfort of her warm blankets and crawled out of bed. Her jumper lay below her feet and she picked it up, before quietly making her way out into the half-lit hallway. Warm night wind reached her through one of the spellbound walls, as her bare feet grazed the stairs.

The kitchen light was still burning, which surprised Hermione a little, but just as she set out to discover Kreacher somewhere, hoping to be able to exchange a few nice words with him, for once, someone silently closed the door behind her.

"You up?", Ron murmured, astounded, and looked at her over the rim of a steaming mug of something that could either be dark tea with a lot of milk or hot chocolate,.. probably the latter.

He sat at the kitchen bench beside the door, wearing his pyjamas, and his hair was adorably tousled from sleep.

Hermione shrugged, grabbing a glass out of one of the drawers and opening the tap to fill it with water. "Can't really sleep, tonight.", she quietly admitted, dropping on top of the bench opposite from him and taking a sip from her glass.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"Don't know.", she quietly answered, not quite meeting his eyes. "Just thinking."

A few silent seconds passed by, faint candle light from the tiny chandelier above illuminating the old room.

"'Bout what?", he wanted to know then, swirling the content of his mug around with a spoon. Yep, definitely hot chocolate.

"Why are you so curious tonight?", Hermione wondered aloud. He laughed, for some reason.

"Am I?"

"Yes, kind of."

"Was just asking you what you're thinking about", he answered, drinking another big gulp from his mug.

She sighed, gently moving her glass around on the table. He eyed her weirdly and then mentioned,

"Nice party, earlier."

"Hm?"

"The party was good.", he explained, pointing at the banner on the kitchen counter, the huge poster with which his mum had decorated the living room for them, earlier that night.

"Oh.", Hermione answered, almost having forgotten about the dinner party, somehow. Although it had been a good party. "You're right. It was so lovely of your mum to have a party for us, Ron. I really can't remember the last time someone organized a real party for me."

"What about birthday parties?", he asked, eyeing her across the big table with a curious expression. The distance between them seemed a little ridiculous for such a quiet conversation way past midnight... She considered moving closer, but something about that made her feel weird, too.

"You mean, when I was little?"

"Yeah, everyone gets a small party for their birthday when they are little, right? That can't just be a wizard thing. I saw a kid getting some kind of paper hat for his birthday, once, when Dad went with us to a muggle restaurant."

She laughed. "Yes, I think I had that sort of party a few times. But still, it's kind of something else when there are so many people there who celebrate you, isn't it? I feel like it's pretty exciting."

"It is pretty exciting.", Ron agreed, and something about the next long sip he took from his drink sounded thoughtful.

"Are you worried?", he muttered, then, nonchalantly, and Hermione lifted her gaze back to his. The lack of light drew unusual lines across his features, but it also made her tummy twist in a strange way.

"About what? Being a prefect?"

"Yep."

She thought about it, for a moment, about the whole range of responsibilities that would await her, and about the fact that tomorrow the new term would start... She suddenly noticed that she really should try to sleep, that she should go back to bed, already,.. but quietly talking to Ron about nothing in particular and taking the tiniest drams of her water felt like the more appealing thing to do, right now.

"Kind of...", she answered, ever so softly, without being totally aware of it. "It's like... this great thing, really, but... So much else is going on, too... The whole summer was about You-Know-Who and fighting and getting new information... and cleaning up", she murmured, and Ron grinned, at this, "But now, other things will seem so important again, and they really are! It just seems so weird, doesn't it?"

"Yeah..", he rasped, and cleared his throat. She noticed that she still had not asked him why he was being up at this time of the night...

"Are you scared?", she wanted to know, her voice tiny and silent, "About being a prefect, I mean?"

Ron met her eyes again before shifting slightly with his chair, its legs scratched over the kitchen floor unpleasantly. Then he shrugged.

"Not really. I mean, it's good that you're there, you'll probably get that.. everything... under control pretty quickly..", she saw him grin at her for a split-second, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I mean, 'don't know, perhaps... the whole thing could have been.. a mistake, maybe.."

She raised a confused eyebrow at him, but he kept talking to the wooden surface of the table. "Maybe they just send the batch to the wrong person, or something..."

"Ron, are you serious?!", she railed at this, suddenly having raised her voice a little more than she'd intended to, and she quickly lowered her volume as an angry blush made its way into her cheeks. "You can't seriously believe that stuff Fred and George are talking about, can you? That's nonsense! You are definitely the right person for that job, otherwise they wouldn't have send you the batch!"

Ron looked slightly shocked, meeting her irritated glare, but he still managed to bicker back just as annoyedly.

"You didn't seem to have such a clear opinion on that, earlier, either! You wouldn't even believe that I received the batch, and not Harry, for about a whole minute or so!"

She felt the colour of her cheeks increase, once again, but this time in embarrassment.

And maybe it was the shame she'd already felt, earlier, in her bed, or the mere fact that she really was grateful, too, for having Ron be the other new prefect, next to her, instead of Harry, - but Hermione fought back other angry words that might have escaped her mouth, normally, and just blinked her eyes shut for a second while fidgeting her fingers on the tabletop, frustratedly.

"Yes... Sorry about that, Ron.", she muttered, and as she blinked up at him she saw slight confusion and surprise on his face.

"Oh.", he answered, dumbly, rubbing his neck, "It's okay, don't worry, I get it. I mean.. he's Harry."

"Harry Potter", they repeated, together; the way everyone else always did. And then they laughed, quietly.

"Ron... You really deserve to be a prefect. It was an excellent choice.", she told him, because she really wanted him to believe it. "And... I'm glad that I'll get to spend so much extra time with you this year. That could really be fun!" She tried to sound encouraging and happy, and not like she was pitying him.

He probably would manage to think something like that, anyway, after her horrible first reaction...

But the tips of his ears glowed pretty heavily, as he stood up to store his mug in the sink, mumbling a sheepish "Er, thanks.", in her direction.

And when he then faked a yawn and said goodnight, there might have been a pleased little sparkle in his eyes, as well.