Just a Ron / Hermione fluff piece. Takes place a couple weeks after the incident when Hermione attacked Ron with the little conjured birds.
Hermione Granger picked at her porridge moodily. Across the table sat her friend, Harry Potter, who was also having a breakfast and a sulk. They had similar reasons to be irritable that morning, and neither of the reasons were particularly legitimate. In fact, both stemmed from the romance department.
While Harry was often angsty, this particular morning it was being caused by the couple sitting far too close together seven spots down on the bench. He would never admit to being jealous of Dean Thomas and his relationship with Ginny Weasley, but Hermione saw the looks he would shoot them whenever the couple showed romantic affection that indicated to her that he was indeed jealous.
But she knew that he knew that he could not truly do anything about it.
He could stab his eggs all he wanted, but if Ginny wanted to be with Dean and not him, then there was nothing he could do. Although a small amount of violence to one's breakfast was satisfying, even if said violence never hit its true target.
Hermione took another bite of her porridge and thought guilty that Harry was most definitely more mature than her in this instance. It was easy to see why by just looking down the Gryffindor bench in the opposite direction of the Ginny and Dean breakfast date, to the hottest and most talked about couple in their year, Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown.
One small scratch remained on Ron's hand, even after the 2 and ½ weeks since she had beset her birds upon him. Although it clearly wasn't bothering him, Lavender seemed perfectly capable of distracting her "Won-Won" from the pain by sitting on his lap at all moments of the day; Hermione still felt a pressing guilt of having done that to her friend.
She had attacked her best friend.
She attacked him for what?
She never asked him out. Lavender did. He didn't owe Hermione anything. Tears started to form in her eyes, and she attempted to brush them away.
Don't cry here, she chided herself.
She pushed aside her unfinished porridge and had left the table before the house-elves had even vanished it away. Harry started to get up to follow her, clearly noticing her tears, but she quickly dismissed him with a reassuring, "I'm fine, just going to the library."
She left the Great Hall and without really realizing it, found herself in the old, abandoned classroom from that fateful night 2 and ½ weeks ago. She sat on the windowsill, her back to the cold window showing the snowy landscape of winter at Hogwarts and opened her transfiguration book.
Conjured birds were referenced as some of the easiest animals to conjure, and so were the ones teachers would recommend learning first. She felt like she was ready for an upgrade of sorts, as well as it would provide her a needed distraction from her turbulent emotions.
The first animal to come to mind was an otter. Well, not just any otter, her otter patronus. Her animal protector that she had worked so hard to learn to produce the previous year.
With great concentration she pictured the animal in her mind, while waving her wand and speaking the complicated spell.
And with pride she saw the small brown creature form on the ground in front of her. It was smaller than she was hoping for but not nearly as small as the birds-
Guilty thoughts broke her concentration and the otter disappeared. "No!" she cried. "Come back, please."
She cast the spell again, but no otter appeared. She cast again. And again. Still no otter.
She tried for the tiny birds and found that she could still produce them. Of course.
Magic was, as usual, connected strongly with emotions and the mental state of the castor. She wished this particular fact wasn't true, but she knew it too well by now to deny it. Originally, she hadn't felt guilty for what she had done to Ron. She felt like his behavior had warranted it, with him making fun of her for thinking his pumpkin juice had been spiked with liquid luck, and from him making out with Lavender right in front of her. But with reflection and an enlightening chat with Luna, she realized that she had been in the wrong. And since then both her mental state and magic state had suffered.
She let herself slip down to sitting on the floor and began to cry with her head buried in her arms. She heard the classroom door open and shut without looking up.
"Go away Harry, I'm fine," she managed between her sobs.
The person sat down beside her and spoke, "those things are bloody scary, you know that?"
She turned and saw that it was Ron not Harry sitting next her. Embarrassed, she wiped her eyes and turned away. The birds vanished with a wave of her wand.
"What do you want?" she said moodily.
"Harry said you ran off and I… felt bad about what happened," Ron said. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his ears begin to turn red with embarrassment. She turned to him in astonishment.
"You felt bad?" she asked incredulously, "I'm the one who attacked you! My best friend. I made those stupid birds claw at you for no good reason and you feel bad?"
She stood and Ron copied her immediately. He looked to want to interrupt her, but she continued without stopping.
"You didn't do anything wrong; it was me! I was the immature one, the childish one, the jealous one…." she said, tears now freely falling from her face. She was going to continue tearing herself apart when Ron wrapped his warm strong arms around her. She returned the hug without thinking and finally said what she should have all those weeks ago.
"I'm sorry, Ron."
They continued to hug for a while longer before he let her go. He took her shoulders in his hands and the two locked eyes. He smiled, and she could see that tears glistening his eyes as well.
"I forgive you, Hermione."
She hugged Ron again. The relief she felt was like nothing she'd ever felt before. It was better than any test result. The cloud of negative emotions was finally gone, and she no longer wondered if she be stuck conjuring those stupid aggressive birds forever.
She pulled out her wand and thought of her otter again. It was a beautiful animal. Independent and intelligent, just like her. But a person didn't have to be alone to be independent. She thought of a second animal, a loyal one. One that protected the ones it loved with its very life. One that forgave. And with wave her wand, she conjured her playful otter and Ron's caring terrier.
The two animals looked around the room briefly but soon the terrier began his chase of the otter. This chase was unlike that of a cat and a dog. The two animals were playing, evident in that the otter would often stop and tackle the dog for a brief wrestle before tearing off around the room to begin the chase once more.
She leaned against Ron and he put his arm around her shoulder. They laughed and watched the two animals play. And for this brief moment, all was well.