Words and meanings,

Facts and opinions,

Love and like

Thankfully, Lavender finally left – albeit after she'd offered me dieting tips but hey-ho, at least she went.

I spoke to Ron as little as I possibly could and pretended to be asleep whenever he visited alone (hmm, now who else can I remember doing that…?) and directed any questions I had at Harry, even though Ron seemed eager to answer them.

I didn't even thank him for looking after me when I almost died, that's how mad I was at him!

St Mungo's let me out eventually (yippee!) and, after a brief shower, Harry, Ron and I got down to trying to work out what the hell Snape had been talking about.

Only problem was, we had no idea where to start.

"The dog…the snake…do you reckon they were pets or something?" said Ron, frowning and scratching his head. "Or maybe he was scared of them…?"

I really badly wanted to yell at Ron to shut up, but to be honest, his talking made no difference to how well I could decipher Snape's ramblings – it all still looked like gobbledegook to me.

"All for one but none for three, none for four… what's all for one? None for three, none for four – who's three, who's four? This doesn't make any sense!" I cried exasperatedly, screwing up the piece of parchment I'd been writing on and throwing it into the fire.

"What we need," said Harry, massaging his temples, "Is someone who understands people like Snape, someone who could at least point us in the right direction."

"Yes, but who do we know who could…could…"

A sudden brainwave hit me, and I stood up abruptly, startling Harry and Ron.

"I'll be right back," I said, rushing to the door and heading for the kitchen.

Scooping up a handful of Floo Powder, I knelt down in front of the fire and threw it in, yelling the name of my destination as I did so.

Feeling slightly sick as thousands of grates rushed past me, I finally came to a stop in a very large, very expensive kitchen.

"Emerald?" I called, coughing slightly as some ash got in my mouth.

A tiny little House-elf came into view, wearing a dazzling emerald-green pillow-case.

"Miss Hermione!" she cried joyously, rushing over to me.

"Hey, Emerald, how are you?" I grinned, trying not to let the pain of kneeling in such an awkward position show on my face.

"I'm fine, thank you Miss – Master is treating me well."

"Good, I'm glad. Talking of your Master, is he in?"

"No, Miss, he's out at the moment. Can I be helping you with something?"

"You can, actually. Could you tell him that I need to speak with his fiancée and would they possibly be able to Floo to Harry Potter's home, please?"

He always told me that he'd be there whenever I needed him, so hopefully he'd keep his promise.

"I will do, Miss. Would you like anything before you go?"

"No, I'm fine thanks Emerald. I'll speak to you soon."

I gave her a smile then yanked my head out of the fire.

Brushing the soot off my jumper, I stood up and headed back to the living room.

On my way I spotted Kreacher, who was busy dusting a table lamp.

"Kreacher," I called in a low voice.

He looked up and gave me a dazzling smile.

"Yes, Miss?" he said, hurrying over to me.

I smiled at him. He's so much nicer now that he doesn't hate me!

"We may be expecting some guests – if they do arrive, could you please prepare a large dinner?"

"Certainly, Miss, Kreacher is happy to be of service."

"Thank you. You can get back to your cleaning now, if you want."

Kreacher bowed and went back to his dusting.

My whole S.P.E.W thing has kind of taken a back-seat. Watching how happy Kreacher was to serve Harry, when Harry treated him kindly, made me realise that stopping House-elves working would be cruel. So, instead, I only campaign (in my free time) for House-elves to be treated well when in service, not made free. And, so far, it seems to be working well.

In fact, Emerald was a House-elf I rescued from a family who treated her terribly. Now though, she's quite happy to serve her new master, due to the fact that he is kind to her and would never dream of punishing her for, let's say, leaving one tiny crease in his robes.

I smiled slightly as Kreacher began singing to himself and turned round to go into the living room.

As I opened the door, Harry and Ron looked round guiltily at me.

"Hermione, you're back!" cried Harry, looking flustered.

Ignoring how obviously the conversation-topic must've changed, I said, "Yeah, I had to make a call. Got any further?"

"No," said Ron, looking depressed.

I ignored him.

"Ooh, brainwave!" said Harry, looking excited. "Why don't I get that old potions book down, the one I used in Sixth year that turned out to be Snape's. It might help us. Oh!! 'Prince'! Maybe he was talking about himself!! Hang on two seconds, I'll just go and find it!"

I watched Harry run excitedly out of the room with a slightly bemused look on my face, which then changed to panic as I realised I was alone in the room with Ron.

"So-" began Ron, but I cut him off.

"Don't."

Ron looked confused.

"Don't…what?"

"Don't talk to me," I snapped at him, walking towards the door that led to the garden, desperate not to be alone with him because I knew that if I stayed too much longer I was likely to let rip and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to stop.

"What's…what's the matter?" asked Ron, looking completely bewildered.

"What's the matter? What's the matter?!" I repeated, whirling around to look at him, laughing incredulously at his sheer stupidity.

"I can't believe you, Ron Weasley, I really can't! If you cannot figure out why I don't ever want to speak to you again, then you're more even more ignorant than I thought!"

Ron blinked, looking thoroughly taken aback by my outburst.

"Hermione, please, I honestly have no idea what you're t-"

"Oh, Hermione, we need to talk!" I mimicked, fists clenched as I advanced on him. "Oh, Hermione, I'm in love with you!"

"But I am in love with y-"

Crack!

Ron recoiled as my hand made contact with his face.

"Don't!" I cried, tears starting to run down my cheeks. "Don't say that! Don't do this to me again! I can't take it anymore!"

Ron lifted his head, his cheek turning bright red.

"One minute you're all, "I love you, Hermione" and the next you're shacked up with Lavender, doing God knows what-"

"Hermione, that isn't-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I don't want-I don't need-I just want this to stop! This isn't-I can't cope anymore, Ron! I can't love you – not like this!"

I saw Ron's eyes widen but I ploughed on.

"You can't do this to people, you can't mess with peoples' heads this way! What in the hell gives you the right to treat me this way?! I have tried so hard with you, Ron – made up with you after fights, fought battles for you – and this is how you repay me?! What – you get some twisted kick out of doing this to me; causing me this much pain?"

"You think I get a kick out of seeing you like this?!" asked Ron angrily. "What kind of monster do you think I am?!"

"Evidently one in complete denial!" I screamed at him, my face turning red with fury. "Do you hate me, Ron, is that it? Is this some kind of…payback for not going to the Yule Ball with you? Because that is really the only thing I can think of that I've done to bruise your ego this much. I mean, it's a pretty petty thing to still be hung up on, seeing as it was, like, eight years ago, but hey, if you can't move on then-"

"Don't you dare be so patronising to me!" roared Ron, stopping me mid-sentence.

I gaped at him – I'd never seen him this angry before.

"You think that you haven't done anything, Hermione?!" spat Ron, looking disbelieving. "How about abandoning your friends for two years and shacking up with Vicky?!"

Oh, he has just crossed the line!

"So it's Viktor?!" I screamed at him. "This all because of Viktor Krum?! Well, at least you've finally admitted it!"

"Yeah, I have!" yelled Ron. "You dumped me and all your friends, just so you could get a good sh-"

"Oh, what – like you did with Lavender, you mean, and still are doing?!"

Nausea flitted across Ron's face.

"So what if I am?" he said coldly, jutting his chin out defiantly. "What business is it of yours?!"

"What business is it of yours what I do with Viktor?!" I screeched at him, tears of frustration and anger leaking out from the corners of my eyes.

"Because he's using you!" bellowed Ron. "You're a member of the 'Golden Trio' – you helped defeat Voldemort-!"

"So did he, you penis!"

"He wants to use you to up his celebrity!"

"He's the best bloody Seeker in the world you idiot! He doesn't need me for that!"

"Then he's just using you for sex and you're too blind to see it! Plus, he's too old for you, Hermione-"

"Too old?! I'm twenty three, Ron, you bloody idiot, not fifteen! Viktor is three years older than me! Lupin was decades older than Tonks and you never complained about that!"

"That's because Lupin loved Tonks-"

"And Viktor loves me, you troll!"

"No he doesn't!"

"Yes he bloody well does, Ron!"

"Well, then, do you love him?!"

Pause.

Huge, painful silence.

"Yes, I love him," I stammered, turning scarlet.

Ron's lip curled up as he looked at me with sudden realisation.

"You don't love him, do you?" he said slowly, laughing giddily. "You're sleeping with him and you don't even love him!"

"No, it's not-"

"Not what? I can't believe you Hermione!"

"That's because there's nothing to believe, you stupid great buffoon! I am-"

"Sleeping with a guy I don't love!"

"For crying out loud, Ron, I am not sleeping with Viktor Krum!"

"Um, Herm-own-ninny?"