Time appeared to slow to a horrifying crawl, as Ron and Luna walked into the room. Harry's eyes flicked to Hermione, who was staring straight ahead, her eyes unreadable and her expression stony.

'Listen, Hermione,' Ron said, his voice calm and clear. 'I'm sorry about being rude earlier. There was really no need for it.'

Luna squeezed Ron's hand, and she left, leaving the trio alone. The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees, to a point where Harry was shocked that he couldn't see his own breath. It was the sort of icy tension that reminded Harry of moments from his childhood with the Dursleys. The feeling that the situation could rapidly deteriorate if a single word was said in the wrong way.

Hermione didn't respond to Ron's plea. Instead, she stared at a spot about two feet above his head.

'You should probably get back to Luna; she'll be waiting for you.'

Hermione's voice was high-pitched, and slightly wobbly, as if she were on the edge of tears.

She then climbed off the desk and walked towards the door. Ron shared a somewhat-relieved look with Harry, as if glad that she hadn't yelled at him.

'Oppugno!'

Harry and Ron spun round to the doorway. Hermione was pointing her wand at Ron, her expression a mask of fury, and the flock of birds made straight for the redhead.

'ARGH!' Ron howled, covering his face with his hands as the canaries began to peck at him. 'GETEMOFME!'

Hermione ran through the door, which slammed shut behind her.

Luna had presumably been waiting outside, because the next moment she hurried into the room, her eyes wide with alarm as she took in the scene in front of her. Ron was on his knees, his hands already a bloodied mess, as Harry hurriedly pulled out his own wand to get rid of the canaries, which were continuing to attack Ron.

'Finite incantatum!'

The birds transformed back into the strips of parchment that Hermione had presumably transfigured them from. The arms of Ron's shirt were already flecked with blood. His hands, upper arms, face, and neck were all covered with small peck marks. Every single peck mark was bleeding

Harry remembered that head wounds always tended to bleed more, but this knowledge did little to deaden the horror he was feeling.

'Episkey!' Harry gasped, pointing his wand at Ron's injuries. 'Episkey!'

But the bleeding did not stop.

'It doesn't seem to work on enchanted wounds,' Luna said, pulling a handkerchief out of her dungarees and cutting it into strips of material. 'Ron, we need to stop the blood using the muggle way.'

Ron nodded, wincing as Luna began to wrap the strips around his right hand. Harry did the same with Ron's left.

After they had done the same to the peck marks on Ron's neck, Harry and Luna helped him to his feet.

'Hospital wing, I think.'

Harry nodded.

'I don't need to go to-' Ron started.

'Yes, you do,' Luna said, earnestly. 'Madam Pomfrey should be able to patch you up, even if she can't stop the bleeding immediately.'

The three of them did not speak much as they walked, although Luna did occasionally punctuate the silence with calm phrases like 'almost there' and 'not far now'.

Harry had himself in almost a state of shock. How… how could Hermione do that? Ron was her friend, after all. Even if Ron wasn't dating her, she had never been clear about her feelings, so she had no "claim" over Ron.

The sad thing was this wasn't remotely out of character for Hermione. She had permanently scarred Marietta Edgecombe, after all. But that had been different, right? Marietta had been trying to sell out the DA at the time. That made it fine… didn't it?

Harry had seen Marietta briefly in the corridor the previous week; she had been wearing heavy make-up, but the 'SNEAK' marks were still emblazoned across her forehead.

It was a just punishment. At least, that's what Harry had believed at the time. But… well, what if one of the DA had been given truth potion, and been forced into revealing the secret? They still would have been scarred, and for no reason. It wasn't a preventative measure; it was revenge.

What if Harry had been given truth potion? Or Ginny?

Or Ron?

Harry risked a glance to Ron, and instantly regretted it. The bandages were already soaked with blood, and the tall boy was clearly in a lot of pain.

Was this Hermione's idea of revenge? Permanent disfigurement?

'Good grief!'

Madam Pomfrey bustled over, her eyes wide as the three students stumbled into the hospital wing. Ron was already starting to wobble from the loss of blood, and his skin had gone paler than usual.

'Get Mr Weasley over to a bed, immediately!'

Harry and Luna sat Ron down on the nearest bed, the redhead wincing as his wounds continued to bleed.

'Those are enchanted peck marks, I see,' Madam Pomfrey said, as she hurried over and began to remove the makeshift bandages. 'They won't close up with a Episkey.'

'Yeah, I tried that earlier.'

'Well, I'm glad to see you are still good at thinking on your feet, Potter,' Madam Pomfrey said, approvingly. 'For most wounds, that would work. But these can only be closed up by very specialist potions.'

'Will he be okay?'

'Some scarring but otherwise fine. Who caused this, by the way?'

Harry and Luna shared a look.

'Er, everyone got a little excited in the common room,' Ron said, speaking for the first time since they had arrived in the hospital wing. 'A bunch of spells got mixed together and a flock of birds flew out of it.'

Madam Pomfrey stared inquisitively at Ron, as if she very much doubted his explanation. But she didn't pursue it.

Harry, Ron and Luna left the hospital wing about an hour later, once Madam Pomfrey was confident that Ron's wounds had stopped bleeding. The peck marks were still very obvious and didn't seem to be healing much, even with magic, but at least Ron wasn't losing any more blood.

'Sorry, Luna,' Ron said. 'I got your hanky all messed up.'

Luna shook her head.

'Handkerchiefs are easily mended. Some things aren't so easy to fix.'

'Er, yeah.'

Harry didn't say anything. He knew exactly what Luna was referring to and, judging from Ron's sad expression, he knew as well. Harry hadn't been able to process it all just yet, but… well, how could Hermione do that to Ron? Just because she was upset, that didn't excuse what she had done.

Harry must have been lost in his own thoughts for a while because the next thing he knew, they had arrived at the bottom of a tall staircase in a part of the castle that Harry had rarely seen before.

Luna stood on her tiptoes, and delicately kissed Ron on the small part of his cheek that had no peck marks. Her smile was soft and earnestly kind.

'I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow,' she said, smiling up at the redhead as she patted his arm softly. 'Goodnight, Ronald.'

Ron smiled.

'Great. Night, Luna.'

'Harry?'

'Er, yeah? Sorry. I was miles away.'

'Can't say I blame you; it's been a weird few hours.'

'Y-yeah. You could say that. You sure you're okay?' Harry asked, trying not to wince as he looked at Ron's scarred face.

Ron shrugged.

'I… I don't want to make a big deal out of this, okay, mate?'

'You sure?'

'Yeah.'

'O…Okay, then.'

The two of them entered the Gryffindor Common Room. It was empty and was already cleared of all food and drink from the after-match party. It seemed like a different world to the Common Room Harry had entered shortly after the match.

As they walked towards the stairs, Harry noticed Ron look sideways at the comfortable chairs by the fire that the two of them and Hermione usually occupied in the evenings. The redhead let out a sigh, and Harry followed him up the stairs to their dorm.

But -as Harry shut the hangings of his four poster- could Ron really expect nobody to question why he suddenly had so many more scars? Hermione scarring Marietta Edgecombe was one thing, but Ron was… well, he was Ron.