Okay… day two of band camp went fine, but I woke up this morning and realized what authors mean when they say their muscles were 'screaming' xD

On a lighter note, this chapter is pretty… good. I planned it out with my friends a little and, as unoriginal as it may seem, it is always one of my favorite scenes to write…

I'll talk more after the chapter.

Day 25: Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes

Hermione was sure that her friendship with Ron was over.

They hadn't spoken beyond yelling since before Christmas and hadn't so much as looked at each other. As much as it pained her she refused to let down. If he couldn't understand why she was upset, well, perhaps he wasn't worth it. The more she thought about it, the more painful and true it became. She didn't know why she invested so much of her spare (and not so spare thoughts) to him and, she promised herself, if by the end of sixth year they still weren't on talking terms, that was it. She was going to pack her metaphorical bags and force herself to move on.

She wished it were that easy.

Besides, how was he supposed to understand why she was upset? He didn't know how she felt – long hours thinking about him, wondering if his homework was getting done without her, imagining what if would feel like to be near him, to simply see him smiling and laughing with her again. That was all private; he couldn't possibly understand unless Ginny had snitched (but Hermione trusted her enough to know she wouldn't).

It was all so very complicated… Hermione just wished it were over.

And, as it turned out, Hermione's wish came true in the worst way possible.

She was on her way to the library when McGonagall stopped her. "Excuse me," McGonagall said, "Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor?" Hermione asked, turning to address her teacher. "What is it?"

McGonagall looked pale, like she was feeling ill. Her eyes were deep and sad, almost as if she were sorry for Hermione. "I regret to inform you that Ron Weasley is in the hospital wing."

"What?!" Hermione asked, flinching at how concerned she sounded. She couldn't be that way – he could've stubbed his toe on a suit of armor or caught his finger in his trunk for all she knew. Besides, even if he was in the hospital wing, they weren't friends anymore. Why should she care? "I mean," she cleared her throat, "why?"

"Madam Pomfrey hasn't released the details yet, but, according to Mr. Potter, he was poisoned."

"Poisoned?!" Now Hermione knew it wasn't silly to be panicking. Poisoned! She clenched her books tightly, blinking back tears. "Thank you –er – Professor, but I… I really must… class…"

"You needn't worry about your classes," McGonagall said softly. "I will take care of them for you. You just go and… and wait for any news." McGonagall pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes with it. "Go on, now. I await word of his well-being."

And, for probably the first time in her life, Hermione stopped thinking. She didn't think about the classes or homework she would miss, nor that she wasn't speaking to Ron. She didn't think about what he and his girlfriend did in public (or, as she would admit to worrying about, didn't do) or about what an arrogant git he was. For once she pushed that all to the back of her head and began walking briskly to the hospital wing.

Her quick steps turned to a steady jog and then, before she realized what she was doing, a full-out sprint. She wound her way down corridors, pushing past other students and skipping steps in her haste. She accidentally knocked over a first year on the third floor ("Sorry!") and nearly fell when she forgot which step was which and tripped into one of the fake ones on a westward staircase ("Ouch!"). At last, shaking off the last of a slight limp, she found herself outside the hospital wing with Harry and Ginny.

"What happened?"

Harry explained it to her; how Ron got the love potion, Slughorn's cure, and the pick-me-up drink that had turned out to be poisoned. "And so I shoved a bezoar down his throat and we got him here," Harry finished. He didn't sound too good. "We haven't heard a thing since."

The next hours of Hermione's life were long and agonizing. First there was waiting outside, then going sitting by his bed, and waiting. So much waiting. People came and went, but Hermione didn't pay them much attention. She sat in her seat by his bed, much like a child in time-out, she felt, waiting for her parents to tell her she could play again if she promised to behave herself.

And, just like a kid in time-out, she thought about what she had done.

She had been willing to throw their entire friendship away for the sake of this – this petty argument! She could feel her eyes watering. Glancing around she was glad to find only a few people were there. Ginny had left at some point and Harry was asleep in his chair on the other side of Ron's bed. Leaning forward, Hermione buried her face into the edge of his mattress where he was laying, finally letting herself cry. She had been restraining herself all day and the action had taken its toll on her.

Of course Ron wouldn't understand why she was upset; he didn't understand how she felt! What had she been expecting him to do? Come out and apologize for snogging his girlfriend? Sure, he had been a bit public about it, but Ginny had explained how that was aimed toward her and not Hermione.

In the end, Hermione realized it didn't matter how much of a fool Ron had made of himself with Lavender. What really mattered was that Hermione had been willing (more dreading, to be honest) to lose one of her best friends of seven years. She had been willing to forget him if he didn't see things exactly the same way she did.

She didn't understand how she could be so stupid.

Seven years and I still don't understand him, she thought with a sigh, rubbing her eyes as she sat up to look at him. How she had tried, though. She'd categorized every expression he had, every last tone he spoke with and even the way he moved when he was angry or tired, but she still couldn't understand him. She blinked slowly as she rested her hand over his on the sheet. Maybe that's what's so brilliant about him, she thought softly. He's a 1000 piece puzzle waiting to be put together, and I've only got the corner solved.

She knew what she had to do; what she was going to do as soon as the time came. I will apologize, she thought, her mind blurring as she leaned onto his bed, her head resting against his hip as her hand held his firmly. I'll explain it to him so he can understand where I'm coming from and we can be friends again.

Hermione didn't know when she fell asleep or how long she slept, but she was woken to a dark room. Nearly jumping, Hermione realized she was still in the hospital wing, and what has woken her had been Ron's hand moving.

He was staring at her with wide, unblinking blue eyes, so blue that they made the clear sky on a sunny day seem dull in comparison. Hermione smiled involuntarily. How she'd missed his eyes…

"What're you doing here?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Hermione, slightly hurt by the apprehension in his eyes, sat straight up, surprised to find a blanket over her shoulders. She pulled it tighter around her, glancing over at Harry who was still asleep, his glasses now on the table and a blanket draped over him as well.

She turned her attention to Ron. "I'm seeing you, of course," she said as if it were obvious.

"Why?"

She bit her lip, looking down. "I get a message telling me my best friend has been poisoned. Do you think I'm going to be anywhere else?"

He shook his head, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're not speaking to me," he said. "You're mad."

"Indeed I was," Hermione agreed, looking up at him. "But if the last few hours have taught me anything it's that… that what really matters is…" she paused and cleared her throat. "I've come to realize that, despite our differences and disagreements, you are still my friend, and to lose you forever… I couldn't bear that, Ron." I could hardly bear losing you for a few months…

Ron still didn't seem sure. He was staring at her cautiously and Hermione looked back at him, hoping he would be able to tell by looking at her just how sincere she was. Please… she prayed silently, blinking quickly to avoid breaking contact with him. Just hear me, Ron.

To her relief, Ron didn't look away, and, in the dim moonlight shining through the curtains, she was sure he had never been more beautiful. His eyes were standing out, especially noticeable in the pale blue light, his skin tinged with a blue hue that contrasted his freckles perfectly. His hair was as messy and unkept as usual, looking normal, as if him practically glowing were a normal occurrence.

Hermione frowned a hint when he looked away from her, just to smile when she heard him say, "Okay, yeah. I get that. I… I missed you too, Hermione. And if not being your friend is what it takes for me to be with Lavender, then I don't think it's worth it."

Hermione felt herself reddening and looked down, trying to hide her face. "I'm not asking you to break up with your girlfriend," she said quietly. It would be an added bonus… "If anything I'm asking to keep your private affairs... well, private."

"All the same, she's a bit clingy," Ron said, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle.

"I could've told you that; I've shared a room with her for six years!"

He shrugged, grinning goofily. "Thanks for explaining that," he said. "It's makes a lot more sense coming from you than anyone else."

They talked for about ten more minutes before Harry woke up, and another fiive with him until Madam Pomfrey shooed them away. "What are you so happy about?" Harry asked as they made their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Nothing," Hermione said, her face split in a grin. "Just… happy."

Harry smiled. "It's nice to hear that coming from you."

After proof-reading this chapter I've come to realize that my quality work has indeed been going down with my limited writing time/extended band hours. This one was another quick hour off my day, hence I have come to a decision.

I'll leave it up to you guys. I would be more than willing to rewrite this chapter after a three day hiatus and pick up where I left off if that's what you guys would like. I could probably make you something more original and less 'Well… it's done…'. (I think I'm also a little worried about tomorrow's prompt 'getting married'… it'll require some research as I haven't been to a wedding since I was five…)

So what do you think? Three-day hiatus until after band camp or push through? Let me know what you think in the comments. Thank you for reading this chapter, I hope you found some enjoyment through it, and I'll see you all soon!