Chapter Twenty-Five

It was hard to keep track of life. One minute your head was spinning and the next you were on the ground. One day you felt as if nothing could ever be worse than this, and another a great happiness bloomed inside of you. It was difficult, really, to attempt to understand at all where you were or how you felt.

At least, this was the way it was for Hermione. Every hour was a new wave of emotion - the fear and horror of being attacked, the deep and visceral resurgence of her love for Fred, the self-loathing that came from her bizarre relationship with Malfoy, the near constant confusion of what she was doing with her life. The last weeks seemed almost a blur, one adrenaline filled moment after another, tripping and stumbling over each other until they became one.

And now this, this lovely, placid well of contentment spreading through her body.

He didn't hate her. He didn't hate her. Ron knew, he knew, and he didn't hate her. He knew about Fred, he knew she didn't love him the way everyone had always expected her too, and in the end, it didn't matter. He was still Ron and she was still Hermione.

The night she told him, she hardly dared breathe around him in case he changed his mind. After he kissed her softly on his bed (a memory she would forever lock into her heart), they emerged back into the Common Room and sat with Harry and Ginny as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. They laughed, they did homework, and though Hermione kept furtively glancing in his direction, Ron seemed normal. Occasionally, their gazes would meet a little too long, or his voice would catch a little awkwardly in the middle of a word, but for the most part, he seemed fine.

Hermione marveled at the human propensity to heal. After all, she surmised, what Ron really loved was the idea of her. Once the idea was broken for good, it would only be a matter of time before his affection seemed like a distant memory even to him, something they could laugh about and smile at in years to come.

As she prepared for class the next day, Hermione was filled with a fierce desire to be with Ron and Harry. It was so easy, sometimes, to forget the looming threat that faced them, so easy to get lulled into the routine of Hogwarts, to lose yourself in personal dramas and heartbreaks. But now, her relationship with Ron on the mend, she felt a sudden need to be close to her two best friends. The idea of losing them now, the idea of their trio being splintered or any member of them lost, made Hermione want to cling to them and hold on for her life. The fear choked her, as much with its sudden arrival as with its intensity. That thing called life. One moment she was brushing her hair and replaying the way Ron smiled at her, the next she was staring at herself in the mirror, terrified of the future. And then the next, going down to breakfast and sitting with her friends, letting the knots in her stomach untie as Ron winked and Harry teased her.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"No, you run when you kick the ball."

"But she ran when you kicked it."

"She also gets to run. You're both trying to get home."

"Where's home?"

"You're standing on it, Ron."

He glanced down.

"I thought this was first."

"Ginny's on first."

"Who's on first?" Harry quipped. Hermione shot him a glare.

"Not helping, Harry."

"Hey, this was your idea, not mine. It's not my fault you're afraid of broomsticks."

She scowled in indignation, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear with finger sticky with heat.

"I am not afraid of broomsticks."

"Yes you are," Ron muttered.

Hermione whirled on him.

"I'm afraid of heights, thank you very much, not broomsticks. And I thought a Muggle game would make a nice change. I'm sick of hearing about Quidditch."

"What's going on?" Ginny hollered from the side.

"Ron can't figure out how to kick the ball!" Hermione yelled back.

"I can too kick the ball."

"Can you? Can you really?"

"Hermione, I'm going to throw you into the lake in one second."

"Just try."

"It's too hot out here anyway. Now Quidditch, Quidditch would have been great today. Get a breeze going. Not this stupid Kick-Run game."

"Kickball, Ron, not Kick-Run. Just kick the ball."

"I still can't believe you ever played sports, Hermione." Harry laughed, tossing a Quaffle back and forth between his hands. "I just can't picture it."

"As a matter of fact," she said imperiously, "I was quite into sports. Not all of us may be Quidditch captains, but that doesn't mean we're not athletic."

"Guys?" Ginny crossed towards them. "No offense, but I'm bored out of my mind. Isn't Ron supposed to kick something?"

"I know what I want to kick," he muttered. Hermione hit him upside the head. "Hey!" he protested, stepping away from her. "Look, it's too hot. There's no breeze at all. No one else is running around kicking things."

"He has a point, 'Mione," Harry said, wiping perspiration from his brow. "Maybe when it cools down?"

Ron's point was, for once, valid. Hogwarts students were strewn out in front of the lake, basking like lizards in the sun. The first true heat wave had arrived in full force, luring students outside and then sapping them of their energy, leaving them to collapse in the grass and doze. Textbooks lay forgotten, parchments with the half-hearted beginning of essays were strewn haphazardly about. It seemed as if the entire student body was outside and doing absolutely nothing.

"I guess," Hermione said, taking the Quaffle from Harry and transfiguring the bases back into rocks. "Thanks for trying it out, though."

"No problem." Ron lazily draped an arm around their shoulder as they headed towards the Gryffindor contingent. "Muggle things are cool. Weird, but cool."

"Whatever, freak boy," Hermione jibed back, poking him in the ribs. "You guys were just scared Ginny and I would beat you."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said from behind them. "But all your silly feminist ideals cannot stand against the pure power of me and Ron. Ouch!" he added as his girlfriend swatted him.

"I could take you in a second, Harry Potter. Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-My-Bitch, that's what they'll call you."

Ron and Ginny broke into astonished laughter.

"Oh, you've done it now," Harry said, rolling up his sleeves and advancing upon Hermione. "You're in for it. Ron, grab her legs."

"What are you going to do?" She asked nervously, backing up as the boys approached. "I swear, I will hex you both within in an inch of your lives if you touch me. No!" She screamed as they grabbed her and hoisted her in the air. They carried her, struggling and shrieking, and deposited her unceremoniously into the lake. When she surfaced, there was murder in her eyes.

"Vengance," she muttered as she whipped out her wand. In a second, Ron and Harry were suspended in the air and being floated over the lake. Ginny was convulsing on the ground in laughter as the boys dropped into the water with a very audible splash. The lazy students around them roused and joined in the mirth as they watched three of their classmates struggling to get out of the water. Hermione had almost made it to land when Ron yanked her back and dunked her again, which instigated a violent and brief splashing war.

"Get them, Hermione!" Ginny yelled from shore and screamed as a stealthy Harry pulled her in as well.

Hermione didn't see who got in next, but soon the water around them was full of Hogwarts' students, splashing and laughing as they all got drenched. Seamus flung past her to tackle Dean, and little Colin Creevey executed a beautiful running cannonball. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard.

"I like it, Granger. Nice little battle royale you've started here."

His voice was low as he swam right behind her. She automatically looked around to locate Harry and Ron, noting that they were both several feet and way and very distracted with making Ginny and Lavender battle each other.

"Just a way to beat the heat."

"You haven't been to the Tower in a while."

"I got distracted."

"Hermione..." Underwater, Malfoy placed his hands around her waist, encircling her from behind. "It's lonely up there at nights."

"When you're alone, I imagine it would be." She inhaled, subtly pulling herself away from his skin.

"Why the sudden change of heart?"

"Malfoy..."

"Granger."

She leaned back slightly, meeting his eyes.

"I'll be there tomorrow night," she said softly.

"Not tonight?"

"Tomorrow. I promise."

His grip tightened briefly, then he released her.

As she watched him slip away, Hermione felt her stomach sink, her good mood melting away as all of her cares began creeping back into her mind. Around her, the carousing continued, but for her, the spontaneous celebration was over. Now she was just a girl standing in a lake, shivering as the long awaited breeze slid past her spine.