Arithmancy
by: Faithful Wheezy
Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
Twenty One: The Next-Best Thing
Bill lounged at the foot of Harry's bed, somehow still chewing on the very piece of gum that had nearly choked him the day before. "Well," he said, chomping on the sticky wad, "it's nighttime again."
This time, Harry didn't even grin. "We forgot to ask Hermione if McLaggen had to share a bed with her today," he said, the smile that he was wearing earlier fading.
Neville, meanwhile, was buried under his sheets, snoring.
"You know me," Dean said, the corners of his mouth struggling to pull themselves down, "when I don't know the real story, I jump to conclusions."
"Yeah, and believe me, he really jumps to conclusions. Remember when Hermione became some sort of cat in Second Year? We all thought—"
"Thank you—for verifying that, Seamus," Charlie said, sounding distressed. "I dunno about you lot, but—" Dean stomped Seamus's foot—"I don't really want to hear about the things Dean jumps to conclusions about."
Instant negative replies from the other boys indicated that they did not want to hear it either. Following this was an uncomfortable silence which Bill broke.
"Well," (insert sounds of disgusting chewing and scandalized sounds), "it's nighttime again."
-x-
"Well, Cormac!" Hermione said to McLaggen with a fake bravado. "It's, er, nighttime again."
McLaggen, who seemed to be looking and acting slightly saner, simply shrugged with a rather large grin pasted on his face. "Yay, I like to sleep." As if this comment was weird enough, he grabbed Hermione in a big bear hug and added, "You're a good pillow, 'Mione. Soft."
Hermione was thoroughly disturbed by this, and laughed nervously. "Er—haha… hah. Haha. Okay, Cormac, I have to get ready for bed…"
There was a pause while some of McLaggen's friends made cricket-sounds with their lips.
"Cormac? You have to let go of me now."
"All right, 'Mione! But I'll never let you go."
"But I have to go to bed."
"So?"
"I can't, you know, get ready for bed with you clinging to me."
There were more cricket-like sounds.
"Thank you, Cormac."
-x-
I can't believe I didn't… didn't tell her. I'm such an idiot! If I just didn't stutter at her like… a bumbling… something-baboon-bunch, maybe she would've known.
Hermione froze, her comb hidden deep inside her forest of brown tangles, her face a picture of innocent surprise in the mirror. It was happening again…
Hermione is the best thing that has ever happened to me. But she'll never know what she's done for me—if I never tell her. I gotta tell her soon.
Hermione began to wash her hands, having given up on brushing her hair (and partly because she lost the comb somewhere in her tumbleweed). She wasn't entirely sure that this was Ron after all—but something was better than nothing, right?
"I could communicate with him, couldn't I?" she said to herself quietly, although there was no need to: McLaggen was waiting patiently behind the door. The curse so far had changed the boy for the better, making him surprisingly friendly, however not entirely insane.
But we're going off the point.
Ron? Ron—it's Hermione.
-x-
Ron flipped through his Quaffle, Now! Magazine, many unpleasant thoughts running through his head.
I can't believe I didn't… didn't tell her. I'm such an idiot!
Ron was feeling a lot of self-pity at the moment—but that's not all that he was feeling.
If I just didn't stutter at her like… a bumbling… something-baboon-bunch, maybe she would've known.
Yes; Ron Weasley was finally allowing himself to believe that he was indeed in love with his best friend of six years. Hermione is the best thing that has ever happened to me. But she'll never know what she's done for me—if I never tell her. I gotta tell her soon.
"Weasley? It's time to take your Essence of Trepidation."
Ron looked up just in time to see Madame Pomfrey advance towards him with a rather foul looking substance.
"Er, thanks," he said ruefully, inspecting the crystal vial's contents. He began to sip it, shuddering in disgust. It was horrible!
Ron? Ron—it's Hermione.
He spat the liquid out all over the matron, who was currently using her wand as some sort of Muggle 'doctor' stethoscope on his chest.
"Ronald Weasley!" She exclaimed sternly, "I understand that the potion does taste rather surfeiting, I know, but if you want any improvement to take place—"
"Er, er, yes, sorry, Madame Pomfrey," Ron hurried hastily, taking several more gulps as if wanting to prove to her that he could do it. The matron nodded in approval and went back to checking the sound of his heartbeat.
Hermione? He thought desperately. What time is it? It's awful late, you should be asleep.
Back in the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitory, Hermione giggled softly, despite the fact that she was practically being squeezed in McLaggen's python-like grip.
Can't sleep. I'm afraid that if I do, I might suffocate.
Ron's thoughts raced. What? What happened? Should I tell Madame Pomfrey?
No, Ron. I'm just kidding. McLaggen's hugs can crush a trash can—and I'm afraid to say that I'm a lot softer than a trash can.
A trash can? Muggles have cans made of trash?
Er, never mind.
If you say so…
Neither of the two formed and sent thoughts to the other for a while.
Hermione?
Uh huh?
It's really you, right? I mean… you're Hermione and not some sort of…
Yes, Ronald. I'm the same Hermione who's known you since First Year, who hates the name Jean, and nags you every hour to read Hogwarts, A History. I have ugly bushy brown hair and I lo—
What?
What, what?
What did you say about your hair?
It's ugly. Just like the rest of me.
… I don't think you're ugly, Hermione. And I happen to like your hair.
Not talking physically to Hermione made Ron feel a little bolder, and he felt like he could say everything he wanted to tell her.
Hermione smiled and wrapped the blankets around her, snuggling deep into the pillows. Yeah, right, Ronald. Good try, though.
No, really.
"I would appreciate it if you finished that potion sometime today, Mister Weasley," Madame Pomfrey informed Ron, who had been staring blankly at the half-empty vial in his hands.
"Oh, er, sorry," Ron replied, flustered. He tried to down most of the potion, but choked on it, spluttering.
"Etiquette!" The matron squawked, hurrying over to Ron and taking the vial. "Etiquette!"
Ron watched her go, feeling slightly disturbed. Sorry 'bout that, he thought ruefully. I had to finish the rest of my Essence of Trepidation. It helps with the poison in my bloodstream and helps destroy the bits that got in my heart.
I still can't believe it hurt you that badly, Ronald. You should have told me instead of hiding the bandages with your blanket.
C'mon, Hermione, they're flesh wounds. We've seen worse, haven't we?
Well yeah, but your bandages were really thick, Ron. Thick bandages mean serious wounds!
Would you believe me if I told you that Madame Pomfrey ran out of thin bandages and had to make do with what she had?
No.
All right then. Never mind.
Hermione blinked, and didn't think for a while.
Ron, I'm serious. There was venom included in your attack. You could've died.
You think a little poison can off me?
I'd rather not think about it.
Is that all you can say right now?
No.
Ron's thoughts came in sounding tired and weary. Well, what else is there?
Thank you, Ron. I'm so sorry…
You've already said that already Hermione. Thanks too—and you don't have to be sorry.
I still think I should've treated you a lot better.
I don't deserve it. Y-you know what, Hermione? Ron began to sweat, his heart pumping a lot faster.
Back under the sheets in the Seventh Year Boys' Dormitory, Hermione's heart began to speed up as well.
There's… something I've been meaning to tell you.
Hermione turned over and checked to see if McLaggen was truly asleep. What is it, Ron?
I… I… I love you. I've fancied you for ages, and I never wanted to tell you, 'cause you'd reject me or something. I didn't want that. Our friendship… would be ruined.
Hermione was shocked. What?
I love you, Ron thought more clearer. And this isn't how I imagined saying it… but this is probably the next best thing. Just promise me—if you don't love me back, imagine that this never happened.
Oh, no, Ron… Hermione smiled, closing her eyes. This will go in my memory forever. This isn't the next best thing—
Ron's heart fell to his abdomen.
It's the best.
Ron's heart seemed to jump two spaces higher, and even more so by Hermione's next words:
I love you, too.
finite