AN: Here is the end of fourth year, finally! I'm very sorry for the delay. First, my health took a fairly drastic turn for the worse, and then my beta lost her wifi. I then discovered that anything from this site was being sent to my spam folder. Thank you for being patient, and I hope it was worth it!
IMPORTANT: I welcome all reviews, but I will be deleting verbally abusive messages. A difference of opinion is fine; I welcome discussion on any points you would like to talk about. Personal attacks, however, are an entirely different matter. I take every bit of feedback into consideration, but it is impossible to make every reader happy. This doesn't mean I should be told I'm a worthless human being. For those who have been supportive, I thank you! Please continue to read and enjoy. See you all in year 5, the Year of Eye Sex!
Ron landed in the darkness, stumbling into the post of Hermione's bed. He had hoped they had skipped to happier times, but could tell from Hermione's thoughts that it was still the same night. She was lying on her back, dried tear tracks on her cheeks, and her nose slightly clogged from crying. Her temper had settled, although she was still upset. Padma and Lavender had been sympathetic after her public fight with Ron, but even though she was on good terms with her roommates, she didn't feel close enough to really talk about her emotions. Ron could tell she wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, and, thinking about it, he remembered that they were due for the second part of their night.
Hermione gave a large sniff, throwing the blankets off. She was overly warm from all the crying, and she wanted to go down for some air. Quietly, so as not to wake the other girls, she shrugged into her dressing gown and tiptoed out the door. Even with the fire going in the Common Room, it was still cooler than it had been in the dorm. Having it all to herself, she stretched out on the sofa, trying not to think as she watched the flames flicker and dance. It didn't do any good though, because her thoughts kept returning to Ron. His words kept repeating on an endless loop in her head, and she couldn't banish the hateful way he had looked at her from her mind. Granted, she had said some harsh things in the heat of the moment herself, but this wasn't like their fight last year. It had been a blow to find out that he thought she was so unappealing, and had such low scruples that she would sell Harry out for some male attention. But even if he thought that, couldn't he at least have pretended to be happy? Wouldn't that have been the friendly thing to do? Well, no, she couldn't actually go so far as to wish for him to be dishonest, but it would be nice if he could at least learn a little tact.
And now she was torn. She wanted an apology, and to be able to move on. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury of being able to fight with Ron the way they had before. With everything going on with Harry, the last thing he needed was to be stuck in the middle of a war between his two best friends. Somehow, she needed to make sure Ron saw that too. She was banking on the fact that he wouldn't want to upset Harry now that they were speaking again.
She was in the middle of figuring out a way to work things out with Ron, when she heard someone stumble into the room. Sitting up, she peeked over the back of the sofa, momentarily surprised to see Ron. Until she saw him rummaging around for the box of pasties that Seamus' mum sent for him to share with everyone. Of course. They had had a huge row not three hours earlier, and now here he was, eating like it was nothing.
"Ron?"
At the sound of her voice, he spun around, his eyes wide as a chunk of pastry fell out of his mouth. "Ehmineh?"
A scathing retort was forming on the tip of her tongue, but something held her back. Ron was looking...rough. He was still in his trousers and dress shirt, but they were incredibly wrinkled, and his hair looked like he had taken styling advice from Harry. But the thing that had made her think twice was his eyes. They were pink and puffy, a sure sign that he had been crying. Of course, with his coloring, his eyes got like that whenever he sneezed, but for some reason she thought it might be more than that. Maybe he was having some regrets about how the night had turned out, and that thought was enough to soften her heart, at least a little.
He had woken up after crying himself to sleep, still upset, with a growling stomach. He had run around all day, and had skipped supper. On top of that, he was the kind of upset that made him eat everything he could get his hands on, so he had had no choice but to go downstairs. The plan had been to grab a Cornish pasty (or six. Or eight.) and go back up to wallow in his misery some more. But then Hermione had popped up, and he had nearly choked to death in surprise.
"Ron! Swallow!"
Hermione darted over to him, pounding him on the back. Her worry over him got her past her anger long enough for him to start breathing, and to get him seated on the sofa. Then, sitting next to him, everything came back, and an awkward silence fell between them. The ease that there usually was with him was missing, and they were both squeezed into opposite arms of the sofa to keep from touching. They couldn't even keep up eye contact for a full minute, and the amount of throat clearing was becoming ridiculous. They both sounded like they should be laid up in the hospital wing with bronchitis. Obviously, she needed to do something, or they would both be here until it was time to go down to breakfast.
"So." Beautiful, Hermione. A forceful opening gambit.
"So."
Oh, he was good. His counter move gave away nothing.
"You should be asleep. It's pretty late."
"Says someone who was lying in wait on the sofa for any unsuspecting victim who happened to wander down here."
"I wasn't lying in wait! I just couldn't sleep, is all. And apparently, neither could you."
"I...no, I guess not."
Hermione released a puff of air, blowing up her fringe. There were so many things that should be said, but she couldn't seem to get them out. The urge to fight things out had dimmed, her anger unable to remain hot at the odd look of defeat he was wearing. Besides, they had fought earlier, and that had gotten them nowhere. Another round was unlikely to do any good. Maybe it was best to let the whole thing go. She drew one leg up under her as she angled her body to face him, trying not to take it personally when he flinched.
"You know, tonight didn't really go how I had hoped it would," she ventured in a neutral tone.
Ron gave a snort. "Yeah, you could say that. It's not really how I had pictured it either. Well, except for the dress robes from hell. Those were everything I imagined and more."
Normally that would have had them both laughing, but now they only exchanged weak smiles.
"Ron, whatever this-this mess is between us, we can't keep it going. Merlin knows I want to ream you over the coals, but we can't act like we did last year. Harry has enough on his plate already without having to deal with us."
"I know. I mean, seriously, the opening challenge was dragons! How are they going to top that? He's got his work cut out for him. And I know we both have to be there for him. So, where does that leave us?"
"I'm trying to figure that out myself. Normally we'd just fight it out until we got over it. I guess this time, we're just going to have to skip the fighting part."
Ron stood up, but stayed leaning against the end of the sofa. "Alright. To be honest, I didn't really feel like having one of our usual rows anyway. Is that all you wanted to say, then?"
Any faint hope that she would at least get an apology out of him died. She was willing to say she was sorry about the things she had said in response, but he had started everything; it would have been nice, for once, for him to be the one to start. But that had never been Ron's way, and it had been foolish to think he would start now. She squeezed her hands together, tamping down on her irritation.
"Yes, I think that's all. Unless there's anything else you'd like to add."
"Uh, no. I think that covers it."
She watched dejectedly as he went back over to the table to gather up his snack. Why couldn't she just put aside her feelings for him? Her life would be much more pleasant. But once she started with something, she rarely, if ever, let it go, and it seemed like this would be no different. Sadly, she got up to go back to her room. She had made it to the foot of the stairs when he stopped her.
"Hermione, wait!"
Turning, she was met with Ron's pleading expression across the room. His eyes were intense, and they seemed to be begging her to understand something.
"Yes? What is it?"
"I...Hermione, I just...I...nevermind. Forget it."
They stood there for several moments, each one stuck in their own misery. Finally, she turned away. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to tell her. It hurt, although it shouldn't. No, this was far from how she had wanted her night to go. At least things wouldn't be too awkward for Harry in the morning. She would just be very, very careful around Ron, and try not to say anything that would start him up again.
He had come so close to telling her he was sorry. For a minute, everything he had felt had threatened to spill out. But what could he say? Even if he had thought he had any kind of chance with her to begin with, he couldn't believe she could even consider it after tonight. Not only had she gotten the attention of the most sought after male at school, but he had acted like an arse. No, he hadn't meant to, and yeah, it had been out of hurt. But as good as his reasons were, that still wouldn't take the hurt from the words, or make him look any better in comparison to Krum. So he had stopped, convincing himself it was for the best. If he had known that all she had wanted was an apology and for him to let her know how he felt, he would've done it in a heartbeat. But hindsight was always clearer than it was in the actual moment, and it was too easy to say what you should have done. Anyone can stand outside of a situation and judge a person's actions, but it's an entirely different matter to live through them.
The crackling of the fire was replaced by the lapping of waves, and Ron was no longer by the sofa, but one of the large rocks by the waves, which was sheltering Hermione and Harry from the wind, and the slight warmth coming from one of Hermione's jars of blue fire. It was another time that he wasn't with them; this time, he had been kept behind after a lesson to go over his Transfiguration assignments.
Hermione wrapped her arms around her knees, silently staring out at the water along with Harry. The quiet was wonderful after all the madness that was going on at school. Everyone was hounding Harry about one thing or another, and there was the looming worry about the second challenge. Of course, she was taking that more seriously than Harry, but she was used to that by now. She didn't even get any peace in the library anymore; Viktor usually found her there, and, while his company was pleasant, it wasn't how she preferred to study. Especially with the deadly looks from the other girls, who sat at the tables around them, keeping a constant eye on their prize.
When Harry had suggested they slip out here during their break, she had leapt at it. She was tired of listening to all of the rumors going around about her. Now that she thought about it, being out here alone with him would probably fan those fires higher, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The very idea was ridiculous, and the people who knew her, and the small group of people whose opinions she actually valued, knew it wasn't true.
Harry poked her in the arm. "Hey. I know that look; we came out here for a break, so stop thinking so hard."
Hermione poked him back. "That's not as easy for me as it is for you!"
"In the interest of keeping the peace, I'll pretend that I didn't hear that highly offensive remark. Well, if you can't stop thinking about it, you might as well tell me what it is."
"It's nothing, really. Just everything that's been going on lately, like those stupid rumors going around about us."
Harry's head fell back against the rock with a groan. "I have sweet, sweet dreams of feeding that Skeeter woman to the dragons, piece by venomous piece. I only feel bad when I think of what effect it would have on the dragons."
"That sounds rather lovely, actually. Just when I think things are dying down and going back to normal, she writes something else and stirs everyone up again. I have better things to do than to try to smother the gossip before it gets out of hand."
One eyebrow went up, crinkling his scar. "Really? Like what? Or do I even want to know?"
She elbowed him in the side. "My schoolwork, for one thing! And spending time with you without people thinking we're sneaking off for a snog, and learning to knit clothes for the elves- we could even be doing that right now!"
"Uh, Hermione, I don't know how to knit. And on the off chance I did want to learn, I think I'd prefer to be taught by someone with a bit more...experience."
Hermione glared at him, giving a haughty toss of her head. "I never claimed to be an expert! It's just to set them free. It's not as if I'm trying to have them mistaken for runway models-"
"No danger there, trust me."
"Harry, I'm perfectly capable of running into the castle crying, telling everyone that you've just broken my heart. So you may want to be nicer, hmm?"
He threw his hands up. "Peace! The sooner that mess dies down, the happier I'll be. Nothing personal, but the idea is just...wrong. I've always thought of us as friends, or, well..."
"Siblings?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed, looking relieved. "You know, I've always been a little jealous of Ron, especially when you compare Dudley to his brothers. But then I realized that having you around is a lot like having a sister, or at least what I'd like having a sister to be like. Does that seem weird to you?"
Thoughtfully, she looked at him in silence before speaking. "No, it's not weird at all. In fact...I've never told you this, but my mum got pregnant not long after I was born. She miscarried early on, practically right after she found out."
"I'm sorry..."
"No, it's okay. They were sad, of course, but they hadn't even wrapped their minds around having one child, let alone two, and I wasn't even old enough to remember, so it's more a fact of life rather than something I'm really close to. But I've always wondered what kind of sister I would've been, or what he would have been like. What I was trying to get at was this; you're the kind of brother I would've wanted. You can get on my nerves at times, but you're a good person, and I enjoy being with you. We get things about each other, and I know I can count on you if I need to. And both of us were raised by Muggles, so we understand things that other people don't, which makes things less lonely."
"So instead of being my girlfriend, you're alright with being my honorary sister?"
"Oh Harry! That's so sweet of you!"
Her eyes were misty, and she pulled him into a hug, which he returned, albeit gingerly, as he always did with physical affection. After a minute, she pulled back, giving him a watery smile.
"I suppose that's enough soppiness for the day, right?"
"I was thinking for the year, but-"
She smacked his shoulder. "Yes, you're definitely in the annoying younger brother category."
The two of them laughed, leaning back against the rock, pleased at the way things had worked out. Hermione certainly was. The thought of Harry as her brother made her very happy. When she was little, she had thought of all the things she would teach a younger brother, how she would be a good sister and take care of him. Then as she got older, she gave up on having someone like that in her life.
But Harry filled a certain void she had; sometimes she was overbearing, but she was a protective sort of person, and Harry was someone in need of a nurturer. Romantically, they would be a washout, but as siblings, they were splendid for one another. Just like real siblings, they could rub each other the wrong way, but they cared deeply about the other, and they had a bond that wouldn't easily be broken.
Ron, of course, was another matter entirely, and she was glad he wasn't there to hear this. It might hurt his feelings to be told that she didn't consider him a brother, but there was no way that she could say he did. Thankfully, this wasn't the kind of thing Harry was likely to mention, so Ron was unlikely to find out. Now all she had to do was hope that he didn't think of her as a sister...
No danger of that. By this point, his feelings were quite unbrotherly. But seeing this was...nice. Really nice. Harry had told him, during that madness with the locket, that they were like brother and sister. And Ron believed him. It had been hard for awhile, not because he thought that Harry or Hermione would lie about it, but because of his own insecurities. Slowly, though, he had come to terms with himself, and his worry that Hermione would regret not choosing Harry had disappeared. Not to say that he didn't wonder why she was with him, but that wasn't very often, and it was only when he was feeling low. It was just that actually seeing it for himself, he could tell exactly what was between them, and it was a lot like he felt about Harry. Only without the soppy tears and crap.
When he had Hermione had discussed marriage and children, she had told him about her mother's miscarriage. At the time, he hadn't made the connection that she had looked at Harry as a surrogate brother, but it made perfect sense now that he thought about it. She may never have known her brother, or have been able to form an attachment, but it was still something she had felt was missing from her life.
The relationship between Hermione and Harry was very special, and close, but it had never threatened her feelings for Ron. Experiencing them for himself, the differences were so clear, he could almost laugh. While it would have been nice to know this then, she was probably right. Not being considered equal with Harry would have hurt his feelings, but if she had said he was like a brother too, that would have hurt as well. And even if he had been told that was how she saw Harry, he still would have twisted things around in his mind, just like he did anyway.
Realizing it was just another case of only being able to see things clearly in hindsight, he was able to focus on something else. He really was lucky. His two best friends got along so well, and one of those friends would be his wife, while the other would someday be his brother-in-law. They were close and enjoyed being together, so he never really had to make a choice. They each had one-on-one time, but Hermione never resented it, like some of his co-workers complained their girlfriends did. Things between the three of them (okay, four if you counted Ginny) were so easy; he was surrounded by people that cared about him and each other, and not many people could say that. He might never be rich, or powerful, but he was going to be happy, and that was thanks, in a large part, to the two people he was watching right now.
Blinking, he looked away. Hermione's stupid tears were in his eyes.
The sky darkened, and the air grew colder. They were still at the lake, but farther downstream, and there were a lot more people. Hermione was shivering in a blanket. Krum was hovering at her side, and Harry and Ron were off in the distance. She was cold, upset, and frustrated about something. Ron tried to think about what had happened after the second challenge to make her that way, but came up blank. Oh well. He would find out in a minute.
Her teeth were chattering from the cold, which she supposed was better than grinding in anger, which would be the case if she wasn't dripping freezing wet lake water. Oh, how she wanted to turn around, and march back to tell that French harpy what she thought about her! Alright, she had been horrified at the thought of losing her little sister. As much as Hermione disliked her, she would have supported her for that. And she was grateful to the person that rescued her sister; again, Hermione was on the same page, as it had been great of Harry to do that even when he thought it meant losing the challenge. But why, by all that was holy and profane, had she seen fit to kiss Ron? No, it hadn't been on the lips, but you never would've guessed that by his dopey expression. It wasn't like he had helped Harry. He had been just as much of a lump in the water as she had been.
Ron gave a nervous laugh. He had totally forgotten about that. At the time, he had been caught between raging hormones, and terror at how the Veela influence made him lose control. The only thing that had been in his mind went something like, 'purty gurl lipz face.' Now it was bizarre. Fleur was basically his sister, and thinking about her like that had entered into the Disturbingly Wrong category. The fact that Bill would shred him into Ron tartar had a little to do with it, and that wasn't even considering Hermione's reaction. He hadn't even realized Hermione had seen that kiss. And since she hadn't set her winged minions on him, something must have distracted her.
"Herm-own-ninny?"
Oh yeah. He had forgotten that little thing.
Hermione slowed her speed walking, realizing for the first time that she wasn't alone. Viktor was walking along at her left, watching her with an expression of concern. Or what she took to be concern. He looked at his porridge the same way, so she could be mistaken.
"Yes? Congratulations on winning, by the way."
"I thank you. But you seem worried. May I be helping you in any way?"
Aaaaaand the guilt was back, her issue with Ron temporarily forgotten. She had managed to avoid thinking about it in all the excitement, but the revelation in Dumbledore's office came back to her in full force.
"I...no, I just need to, um, go change out of these wet clothes. See you later!"
She fled before he could reply, desperate to get away so she could process this before she saw him again. This could be bad. This could be reeeeally bad. When she had first been called into the headmaster's office with Ron, she had been terrified that they were in trouble, her dreams of someday being Head Girl going up in smoke. When the challenge had been explained, she had been under the impression that she was a package deal with Ron. The sting she felt at not being included in that faded into nothingness when she realized what was going on. She was the thing that mattered the most to Viktor Krum.
That was flattering. It really was. And it would probably have most girls jumping for joy. There was even a small part of her that did. But then the questions started. Was she really that important to him? And if so, why her? Was this supposed to be a mutual thing? She was confused. Viktor was nice, in a quiet, not-much-in-common sort of way. But he wasn't in the top five things of what mattered to her. There was her parents, Ron, Harry, school, S.P.E.W...She barely even knew Viktor. Yes, they talked in the library, but mostly on light topics. She had never felt comfortable going into anything deeper. It wasn't like with Ron and Harry, or even Ginny and the twins. She couldn't picture herself arguing with him, yelling and trading insults. Their conversations were enjoyable, but that was all. There was no heat, no passion, no exciting battle of wits.
So why were they on such different pages? Unless he had some strange kink for bushy haired swots. Possible, but not likely. And she had never been what you could call flirtatious, so she couldn't have been sending those kinds of signals. All she had done was act friendly, and...go...to the...Yule Ball. Oh dear. They had never discussed what that meant. She had been so excited over the attention, she hadn't really thought beyond that night, which she realized now had been unfair. It hadn't ever crossed her mind that he was interested in anything serious with her, and she had been caught up in her feelings for Ron. So now, she had to ask herself a question. Did she want a relationship with Viktor?
On the pro side, he was mature, considerate, and dedicated to his career. On the con side, the age difference, while not huge, did create a chasm between them. He was in his last year of school, and he already had a job, while she still had three years left, and wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life. Then there was the long distance aspect. Communication in the wizarding world was harder than it was for Muggles. Their only real option was Owl Post, and visits would be next to impossible, given their conflicting schedules. That type of thing was hard enough on strong relationships; in her opinion, it practically guaranteed failure in their situation.
Also, she had doubts about whether or not he was as serious about her as he thought he was. He had admitted he hadn't had much experience with women, and he was also tired of people trying to get close to him because he was famous. She suspected what made her attractive to him was that she was the first person who didn't care that he was a Quidditch star, and treated him like a regular person. And even in that she had been slightly misleading; she was always carefully polite with him, since he was a visitor. Somehow, she doubted he would find her as enchanting if she argued with him and nagged him like she did others.
Then there was the matter of her feelings for Ron. If he had been in Viktor's place, would she have been his most important person? As much as she wished she was, remembering the way he had acted earlier with Fleur told her, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn't. The fact that she was more upset over a hypothetical situation with Ron rather than excited over the reality with Viktor told her that it probably wouldn't work with Viktor. She had her heart set on working something out with Ron, and once she was set on something, she rarely gave up. In short, there were too many obstacles to overcome, and she wasn't emotionally invested enough to try.
Besides, as nice as the attention from Viktor made her feel about herself, it would be wrong to lead him on. She had accused Ron of using her as a fallback plan for the Yule Ball, and this would be no different. Viktor was a good person, and he deserved to find someone that was interested in him. She still wanted to be friends, but that was all. But how to tell him? Or should she? There was the possibility he had meant it in a platonic way. It would be embarrassing for both of them if she brought it up, and he had to tell her she was wrong. The only thing she could think of to do was to continue as they were, until he said something. Then she would be sure where she stood, and she could go from there.
Having a plan always made her feel better. She just wished she had a plan for Ron. The whole Ball thing had blown up in her face, and while they were alright now, they were no closer to moving in the direction she wanted than they had been in the beginning. Or maybe she should forget about a plan. She had built up a whole scenario for the Ball, and that hadn't worked out. Maybe she should take it slow, and let things develop naturally. That sounded good. She would just wait, and give Ron a little more time, not put any pressure on him.
She entered her room with a spring in her step. Not one plan, but two! How could things fail to run smoothly after that? Now all she needed to worry about was the last task for Harry.
Poor Hermione. She was so good at making plans, and it was too bad the rest of the world never let them work out. He suspected this was where the seesawing began; one of them would be ready to move forward at the same time the other would be holding back. And it was ironic that she had thought she wasn't the most important thing to him. He had been having similar thoughts about her. Merlin, being a teenager had been shit. How had they managed to survive it? It made him appreciate what they had now; sure, they still had problems, but the level of drama was not nearly as bad.
And the whole thing with Krum...okay, so she had considered being with him. Big deal. It hadn't amounted to anything in the end. Why hadn't he been able to see that before? Besides the paralyzing insecurity and inability to let things go. That last was a trait he shared with Hermione. It was both a weakness and a strength. Once they were committed to something, they stood by it to the end, but it also meant that when they were wrong, it took them forever to admit it and back down.
For years, he had always thought he would come in second to Krum, when it had actually been the other way around. She had weighed her options, and had chosen to stick with him anyway. And he hadn't exactly been at his best when she made that decision. He just wondered how many times she was going to regret it in the next couple of years.
And the next memory reminded him that Krum was still going to be an issue for him as well. The end of the year had arrived, and Hermione had another decision to make, one that he had had a vested interest in.
Hermione set Crookshanks' basket down, shushing his yowls of frustration. She would let him out once they were on the train, but there were too many people walking around the school grounds, and she was afraid he would get stepped on. There was a somber air, unusual on the last day. People were saying their goodbyes to the friends they had made from the other schools, and the death of Cedric hung heavily over them all. She hadn't slept well since it had happened, and judging the looks of Harry, neither had he. The reality of their mortality had struck home, and there was no going back now. Voldemort had returned, and things could only get worse from here.
A hand on her shoulder startled her out of her depressing thoughts. Thinking it was Harry or Ron, she opened her mouth to scold him for scaring her, but stopped when she saw that it was Viktor. She had forgotten that he had wanted to talk to her, and, with a sinking feeling, she knew what he wanted.
Not long ago, he had asked her to visit him over the summer. The way he had acted had made it impossible to mistake his intent, and she had steeled herself to turn him down. But he had noticed her hesitation, and rushed to tell her that she should think about it, and give him her answer on the last day. She had considered turning him down right then, but she wanted it to be final, without him trying to change her mind. Being friends with Harry and Ron had shown her that boys could hound you relentlessly to get their way, and she really didn't want to have to hurt his feelings more than once.
"Herm-own-ninny, can ve talk?"
"Of course. Let's just find someplace that's a little more private."
They walked a short distance from the rest of the students, ducking behind a chipped statue of a wizard peering into a cauldron. Hermione wanted to make sure they weren't by his fans, or Ron. Ron hadn't made much of a fuss about Viktor beyond some pointed muttering, but every time he saw them near each other, he gave her a betrayed, suspicious look that reminded her of Crookshanks whenever she got out his toothbrush.
Viktor took her hands in his, looking into her eyes with a serious expression. "I hope you have been thinking of your answer, Herm-my-ninny. You vould have such good times in Bulgaria, and I know my parents vould be loving to meet you. Your parents vould be velcome to come as vell."
Hermione's eyes widened. His parents? Her parents? Wasn't that moving a little fast? She was only fifteen! He was rushing in a direction she was nowhere near prepared for, and the thought was a bit frightening. She needed to go carefully here, and make sure she was clear. Gently, she removed her hands from his.
"Viktor, it was lovely of you to invite me, it really was. But I think you're asking for something that I just don't feel like I'm able to give you. You're a nice person, and I've enjoyed spending time with you, but...I simply don't have those kinds of feelings for you."
His hopeful expression turned to a scowl. "I have done something to displease you?"
"No, that's not it at all! I just-"
"Potter assured me that there vas nothing between you. Vas he lying?"
What was he talking about? He shouldn't have gone to Harry about that. He had obviously been listening to the gossip, and it irritated her that he would go behind her back, instead of asking her outright. And why hadn't Harry mentioned this?
"He wasn't lying. There's never been anything like that between Harry and I, which you would have known if you had just asked me!"
"Is there someone else, then?"
"I..." she couldn't lie to him. "Yes, I am interested in someone. We aren't together, but I've liked him for a while now."
"But if not Potter, then who?"
"...My other friend, Ron."
Viktor looked absolutely gobsmacked. "Him?"
Yeah, you great git, me!
"Yes, Ron! What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked sharply, her temper beginning to flare.
"Vell, he...he is not the type I thought vould be suiting you. Does he share your feelings?"
Hermione deflated. "No. He doesn't see me like that. At all."
"Then maybe, you could try with me?"
"No, it just wouldn't-"
Quickly, he leaned down, covering her mouth with his. This kiss was insistent, more forceful than their first. She was shocked into inaction, and by the time she had regained her senses, he had stopped.
"Can you truly tell me you felt nothing?" he asked almost pleadingly.
"I'm sorry. It was...nice, but I still don't love you like that. And be honest; do you really like me, or is it because I don't chase after you like other girls?"
"I like you very much, Herm-own-ninny. But I suppose that you might be at least partially right. I vould not vish to be forcing you into something you do not vant, so perhaps it vould be best to say my farevells now."
She laid a hand on his arm. "Viktor, please understand. I do like you, just as a friend. We did get along well, and you said yourself you didn't have many people to talk to. We could still write to each other."
He stood stoically for several moments, and she was afraid that she had offended him too much. Then he smiled, although it wasn't entirely happy.
"Alright. It vould be nice to have that, at least. And who knows? Maybe you vill change your mind."
Hermione smiled at him. There wasn't much chance in that, but he would see that for himself in time. Honestly, she was just relieved to have this over with. She had never realized how exhausting all of this emotional stuff could be. It would be nice once Viktor was gone, and things would go smoothly between her and Ron again.
Ron had been tempted to pull the ape off of Hermione, his old jealousy coming alive the instant he had realized what was going to happen. He had been worried that day that the two of them had gone off for a snog, and that she would choose to go to Bulgaria during the holiday. His mind would've been greatly set at ease if he had known that she had turned him down. But the fact that she had continued to write Krum had sent him mixed signals, and each time he had seen an envelope with his name on it, a sour taste had filled his mouth. And as if Krum wasn't enough, he was also beginning to think of Harry as a rival too, something that Hermione had unconsciously enforced.
Hermione was in a fog the rest of the day. Now that she had settled things with Viktor, her worry over Harry had taken up her thoughts. She went through the motions of conversation, but she couldn't help noticing how pale and withdrawn he was, a fact made worse with the knowledge of what he was going home to. She had been reading up on things like grief, and the effect it could have on a young person. All three of them were upset, but she and Ron would be returning to loving homes, with people that cared about them. They would be hugged, and told that they were loved. Harry, who had gone through so much worse, would receive nothing but verbal and emotional abuse.
He wouldn't be able to talk about it like he needed to, and he was already far too repressed as it was. One of the things she had read about dealt with physical affection, and how children needed it in their lives. Harry had never gotten anything like that until he came to Hogwarts, she was sure. And he didn't get much there. He always stiffened up when she would hug him, although as the months passed, he got more used to it. But then summer would come, and it would start all over again. It couldn't be good for him, and something needed to be done. She would ask Ron, but this didn't seem like something he could help with. He and Harry wrestled around and poked at each other, which was good, but Harry also needed something...softer.
The only thing she could think to do was to be more affectionate towards him herself. Hadn't they established that they felt like siblings? With the way things were going for him, he would need all the comfort he could get. And someday, he was going to want a girlfriend, and he would need to be able to show her his feelings.
Ron had never thought about it that way. He knew Harry had a horrible home life, and that it had probably messed him up to some extent, but he had thought it had more to do with their hateful words and neglect than anything. The thought of going through life without your family really touching you was strange to him. His mum had smothered her children in hugs, and his siblings were forever pounding him on the back, or ruffling his hair. Sometimes it had felt like a nuisance, but there had always been love. And he had seen himself that Hermione was always patted or hugged by her parents, although maybe not as energetically as in his family. But Weasley's were always more forceful in everything.
And how else was Harry supposed to learn about things like that, if no one ever showed him? He hadn't been much good on that front, because blokes didn't really go in for that sort of thing with each other much, but he could see that Harry needed it from somewhere. With all of the death and despair he was going to go through in the next few years, it would've been terrible if he didn't feel some love to go along with it.
Hermione pulled her trunk along after her, screwing up her courage. She was about to do something unusual, but it had to be done. Before she could change her mind, she had wrapped Harry in a hug, kissing him goodbye on the cheek. It was the briefest of pecks, but it was more than what he would be getting from the Dursleys. Whenever she was feeling down, a hug and kiss from her parents always helped, and she hoped she could do the same for Harry. She had toyed with the idea of doing the same to Ron, but decided it wouldn't be a good idea. It was a sisterly thing with Harry, and kissing Ron that way would feel like she was doing it under false pretenses. When she kissed him, she wanted it to be for real, and she didn't want him to get used to being kissed platonically by her, for fear that he might think that was all there was between them. Also, if he made a big fuss and acted disgusted, she didn't think she would be able to get back on the train next year, let alone visit over the summer.
Already looking forward to it, she moved on to where her parents were standing, ready to spend some time with them before she left. She loved them, but she couldn't wait to get to the Burrow...
That kiss had really messed with his head. He had spent weeks puzzling why she had kissed Harry and not him. Did she like Harry better? Did she like like Harry? If so, then he never stood a chance. One minute, he was sure that she wanted Harry, the next minute he had almost convinced himself that she had just forgotten him. It was that kiss, along with all of the rubbish printed in the Prophet, that started him thinking of Harry as a threat. He never hated Harry, and it had always been relatively manageable, until the locket got ahold of him. What had been a perfectly innocent kiss, given with the best of intentions, had turned into one of his worst nightmares, and had nearly caused him to do irreparable damage to his friendship with both of them.
But he couldn't resent Harry, or even fault Hermione for it. She hadn't done it with any thought to make him jealous, and seeing her reason for not kissing him as well, he could understand that. She didn't want to treat them the same because they weren't; he had just assumed that he wasn't as good as Harry, when she had only meant that she loved them in a different way. Imagining some of the heated kisses they had shared, he was perfectly content to leave the boring pecks to Harry.
So, he mused, that was the end of fourth year. Next should be their stay at Grimmauld Place, unless...was he going to see her visit to the Burrow right before they left? He had been such an awkward mess that summer, and he wondered how she could've missed it...his eyes widened. He had just remembered something else she shouldn't have been able to miss...