Author's Note: Tag updates: I've added "Hermione Granger is a tease" and "plotted slice of life" and have removed "no beta we die like men".

Yes! That means that I've acquired an interesting trio of people who've volunteered to read my story and send their feedback out of the kindness of their hearts. Isn't that incredible? I feel so lucky. The first two betas I will credit now, as I've already received their valuable wisdom: Rhiannonally and Intricate_Iris

Thank you for your patience. I hope this long chapter suits you :)

Several hours passed after the Gryffindor gang blew up their lives with their drunken confessions, and it was well into the evening hour before the most chaotic confessor of the group finally stirred. Hermione peeled her eyes open in a groggy fog as a rumbling snore met her ears. A sour taste stung at her tongue, and a terrible crick pulled at her neck as her eyes stumbled around the dim room in confusion. Her temple throbbed, and her back hunched at an awkward angle against the arm of her chair, and a small dribble of drool covered her chin in what was sure to be her most attractive look. Across the room on the loveseat laid a knackered Ginny and the source of the snoring rumble – Harry. Ginny's cheek lay smashed into the cushion, and her skinny legs lay draped over Harry's lap, with Harry's forearm blanketing his eyes as if the small amount of warm light that was radiating from the wall sconce was too much for his soul to bear.

It is too much, Hermione breathed with a groan, wiping at her jaw with her sleeve and squinting as she checked her timepiece. She huffed as she realized that they'd slept through the start of dinner, and her upset stomach was voicing its dissent with roaring grumbles in between Harry's rattling snores. Hermione fanned her palm over her abdomen to soothe its ache and swayed as she stood, her hangover taunting her as the room tilted to its side. She gripped the arm of the chair with clumsy hands as she righted her balance and hung her head between her legs, her hair tumbling to the floor over her shoulders and her eyes squeezing shut with nausea. She breathed through her nose until the feeling passed, then opened her eyes with a frown as she spotted her tartan in a crumpled heap at her foot. A blatant, jagged rip marred its side, and Hermione bit her cheek as she remembered that she'd been the one to make the hole in the fabric after Ron had left the room.

She'd been so upset with herself for how she'd handled things that she'd pulled and tugged on the loose threads of her favorite blanket until Ginny had stayed her nervous hands.

"He'll come around," Ginny reassured as she grasped Hermione's anxious fingers in her own, her green eyes leveling a wobbling stare as she attempted a joke, "He doesn't hold grudges like you."

Hermione's lips pursed at the memory, and she hugged the blanket to her chest as she rose to stand, clocking her hip against the chair as the room spun on its axis and muttering curses and a quick mending spell under her breath as her vision corrected. Oh my God, she groaned as she squeezed her eyes shut, a quiet vow of sobriety tumbling from her lips as she swore never to touch butterbeer again so long as she lived.

"Wake up," she croaked as she hobbled across the room on unsteady legs to shake Ginny's shoulders.

"No," Ginny mumbled as she batted Hermione's hand away, groaning as she swiveled to face the back of the sofa, her bony heel jamming into Harry's lap and startling him as she flipped. Harry's snores died as the air escaped from his throat in a whoosh, his hands snapping to cover his groin and his unkempt head whipping to the side to identify his assailant. His face scrunched in abject confusion as he realized his attacker was his one-hundred-ten-pound girlfriend, and he rolled his eyes to the rafters as his brows furrowed.

"Christ," he moaned as he ducked his head with a scowl, rubbing his palm over the sore spot on his thigh that was sure to bruise and muttering a quiet, "Please tell me that this was all a dream… and that you aren't secretly dating Malfoy," to Hermione's feet. His glasses were askew over his red nose as he sighed towards the carpet with the strength of one thousand breaths.

Hermione pursed her lips and gripped the arm of the loveseat with white clenched knuckles as her scratchy voice clipped, "Indeed, your memory serves you well, although I wouldn't call it dating," she winced as Harry muttered curses in reply. Ginny stirred at the sound of Harry's agitated voice and lifted her head from the cushion, squinting her red eyes first at her boyfriend and then at Hermione as if she hadn't realized that this wasn't girls' dormitory. She groaned as she sat on her haunches next to Harry, rubbing at the bruises on her legs and hips from knocking into furniture as her sleepy stare puzzled around the room, her memory returning. Ginny took in the empty bottles and the general clutter that three hammered people made when they danced and tripped to muggle music and lifted her brows with shock at the pile of novels that she'd tossed on the floor after she'd read the bawdy scenes aloud in a pirate's accent to liven Hermione's spirits, snickering at Harry's protests and shooshing Hermione when she'd begged for it to end through wheezing laughter.

"Christ," Ginny echoed as she rubbed at her aching temples, her puffy face marred with deep-lined indentions from the pattern on the sofa, and her long hair ratted into a birds-nest on the back of her head. She frowned as she muttered, "What time is it?"

"It's fifteen past six," Hermione replied as she felt steady enough to let go of the loveseat, folding both hands over her abdomen as she wondered what her reflection looked like. Absolutely terrible, she decided, as she did not doubt that her mass of curls rivaled a nest the size of a Hungarian Horntail's, and that it would take a generous lather of her best conditioner to work out the tangles – or perhaps even magic.

Harry moved to stretch and rubbed his palm in soothing circles on Ginny's back, his expression turning hopeful as he caught eyes with Hermione. "Have you talked to Ron?" He asked, turning his neck to the side to cough into his shoulder and cringing as the movement caused a shooting pain to ricochet in his head. "I've only just awoken," Hermione answered in sympathy, her temple throbbing with her hangover. She dug her bare toes into the carpet as Ginny's tired eyes studied her appearance.

"You look like hell," Ginny muttered as if she wasn't the worst for wear in the room, having drunk the most while also weighing the least. Her bloodshot eyes widened as she cut her glance to Harry, "And so do you," she sighed, running her hand through his oily strands to smooth them down to his scalp as his lips flattened.

"I really didn't intend to upset him like that," Hermione admitted as she frowned with regret, referring to Ron, "I knew that he would be surprised, but I think having Lavender here made everything worse," she huffed with self-deprecating humor, her fingers shaking from restrained upset and lack of food as she pressed them into her belly.

Ginny was silent as she attempted to untangle her hair, wincing as her fingers became stuck in the birds-nest. "Ouch… god…," she muttered, unthreading her hand from the knots as she spoke. "At least we've all upset him at once, you know? He can't stay mad at all of us forever," she quipped as she patted Harry's knee, shooting Hermione a wistful smile as she caught her eye.

Harry huffed a sardonic laugh as he shook his head at the witches, his lips twisting to the side and his voice grim as he warned, "I've never seen him so upset."

Ginny wrinkled her nose at Harry as she wiped at a wet patch of drool on her lip, muttering an unintelligible defense into her sleeve about it not being that big of a deal that they were all keeping secrets from her brother, as he was hardly known to be level-headed. Her voice rose above a murmur as she looked at each of her unkempt companions, rallying their spirits with decisive bravado as she exclaimed, "Merlin's saggy sack, then let's get this over with." Ginny tipped sideways on her gangly legs as she sprang from the sofa, knocking her hip into Harry's hunched shoulders as he fumbled to catch her awkward limbs before she fell to the carpet. "Easy," Harry ordered as he righted her balance and stood with her, his arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her towards his side. "It's too soon for your Gryffindor spirit," he smiled with pride as he propped his chin on the top of her head.

"Hush," Ginny murmured as she patted her hand on his chest with a little too much force. Harry grinned at his girlfriend and kissed her cushion-patterned forehead, his easy expression turning to a grimace as he glanced at Hermione and raked his wide eyes over her frizzy, voluminous knots. "We should clean up a bit first," he winced, hauling Ginny towards the door.

"I might have a PepperUp potion in my desk," Hermione offered as she walked on stiff legs, rummaging through the drawers for a half-full vial and holding it out to Ginny, who needed it the most, "And I have Paracetamol in the lavatory," Hermione said to Harry as his eyes fluttered shut in relief.

"Please," he croaked, holding out his hand as she returned with four little pills.

"The only good thing to come of today," Harry muttered from the lavatory as he turned on the faucet and cupped a handful of water into his mouth, swallowing two of the pills and pocketing the rest for later. Ginny tipped the potion down her throat and grimaced as two plumes of steam wafted out of her ears, an unpleasant side effect of the healing remedy.

"I meant what I said," Ginny murmured as the red lines in her eyes cleared to white and as the puffiness in her cheeks deflated to a normal level of elasticity, the potion's effects taking immediate hold. She looked ridiculous with steam pouring from her head, and Hermione bit back a laugh as Ginny narrowed her eyes with a faux affront. The reprieve from her hangover wouldn't last long without another dose, but the pain pills that Hermione thrust into her hands would kick in when it wore off, and Ginny was hardy. "Don't you laugh at me," Ginny warned with a shake of her finger as she bit her cheek with repressed humor, "I mean it, Hermione. Ron will come around. Probably not for a while, but at least by the Christmas holidays," Ginny joked as she rested her hands on her hips, her expression turning serious as she said, "And thank you for the potion."

Harry patted Hermione on the back as he returned from the lavatory, hovering in the doorway to the stairs with Ginny on his other side.

"I'll stop by the Hospital Wing and fake a nasty cold," he smiled, "I look like hell, so it shouldn't be a challenge. Madame Pomfrey is generous with her brew."

Hermione snorted as she snaked her arm around Harry's side in a loose hug, feeling appreciative that they would always take care of one another even if they didn't always agree with each other's choices. "Thank you," she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder as Ginny mirrored her body language from the other side in a group hug.

"We'll see you at dinner?" Ginny questioned after a moment as she pulled from their embrace, tugging on Harry's waist.

"Yes, I'll see you in a bit," Hermione replied as they left.

She tidied the mess in her room before she trudged to her lavatory to shower off the stench of liquor and the uneasy feeling that had settled into a solid pit in her stomach. She had the peculiar, inkling precognition that her life was about to change again and that she wasn't in the least prepared.

When she arrived in the Great Hall sometime later, as it took an exorbitant amount of conditioner and a great deal of wide-tooth combing to loosen her tangles, she noted that Lavender was absent and that Ron was sitting farther away than usual with Seamus and Dean, sporting a distressed look as he stared into his water glass like he wanted it to reach out and drown him. Parvati, Lavender's twin by choice (but not by blood, to their dismay), was sitting with a group of sixth-year girls at the other end of the table and was glaring daggers at Hermione's awkward entrance to her usual seat.

"How bad is it?" Hermione whispered, interrupting Harry and Ginny as they conversed in a hush across the table with their faces sporting mirroring frowns and their ears pouring with white puffs of steam.

"Exceedingly bad," Ginny whispered in reply, resting her cheek on her chin in an effort to hide her lips from prying eyes, "Ron is refusing to speak to us. And according to Parvati, Lavender is refusing to speak to him."

"He won't listen," Harry sighed with a deep frown, shoveling a spoonful of banana pudding into his mouth as he muttered with irritation, "I tried to talk to him upstairs, and he called me a bloody tosser."

"Wonderful," Hermione breathed as her face collapsed into upset, stabbing her fork into a slippery noodle as an unfamiliar tingling sensation danced up her spine. She frowned at the foreign feeling as she deduced that it must be her nerves and continued her spirited internal debate as she battled against her pasta. She tried to imagine Ron's position and the hell of an afternoon that he'd experienced, and she surmised with reluctance that his request for space wasn't unreasonable – although he hadn't mentioned that he needed space from Ginny or Harry, and that felt targeted and unfair.

She scowled as she reached the limits of her empathy, her mind flustered as she retorted: shouldn't Ron be happy for Ginny and Harry? And, shouldn't Ron be… well, not glad for Hermione, but certainly not this upset? She was an adult, after all, and she didn't appreciate his judgment of her adult affairs. She hadn't requested space when he'd announced that he was dating Lavender last year, and she hadn't yelled at him or warned him that he was being an idiot for dating a girl with a reputation as a vapid gossip.

Alright, and so what if Hermione had come to find Lavender's personality to be not so irritating, after all? And so what if her assumptions about Lavender's character had been incomplete and rather incorrect? As she hadn't known how thoughtful the witch could be and how much fun they would have when they discussed books and boys... and so what if she even considered Lavender to now be her casual friend… Surely, if Hermione could tolerate Ron's relationship and include Lavender in her company, he could, at a minimum, remain kind even if he disagreed with her choices. Harry disapproved of her match with Draco, that much was obvious, but he wasn't moaning about needing space or lecturing Hermione that she was being stupid. He was keeping his wise trap shut. And Ginny? Ginny was a treasure, the most tolerant of all of her friends, and the only one to attempt to see the entire story… although Ginny had also had several weeks-worth of private conversations as a head-start…

Hermione's knuckles turned white as she jammed her fork in quick stabs into her dinner plate, questioning all of her choices and furious with herself as the slippery noodles continued their escape from the fork's pronged grip. She growled as her lips pulled back in a feral curl as she finally caught the pasta on the tip. "I suppose that he wants us to grovel?" She spat with a derisive laugh as tears stung at her eyes, stuffing the forkful of noodles into her mouth and chewing as the tingling sensation increased in fervency along her spine.

Her jaw tightened as she puzzled at the foreign sensation, no longer able to ignore its vibration as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up in recognition of powerful magic. A commanding urge swept over her body, chanting for her to look up look up look up as her eyes widened in alarm, bouncing around the table in front of her as her knuckles blanched in a tight grip around her fork. She resisted the magic's compulsion as her frantic face swept down the table in search of a wand pointing in her direction, her dark brows furrowing as she found only eating utensils. Her shocked eyes widened to the size of saucers as the tingling kicked up a notch in intensity, vibrating along her vertebrae and buzzing inside her skull until she couldn't resist its chant any longer. Her eyes snapped around Harry's shoulders in a wild startle as she gave in to the urge, immediate relief flooding her body as the tingling dissipated into a pleasant hum, and she wondered what the bloody hell was happening to her, when… Oh.

She found Draco's serious, questioning gaze fastened on hers from the Slytherin table, and she sucked in a bewildered breath as she realized that he'd used his magic to call her attention from across the room. But how? She wondered as he quirked his furrowed brow at her as if to ask, Are you alright?, and despite Hermione's sour mood and her alarm at being on the receiving end of magic that she didn't understand, her frown transformed into a reluctant, confused smile and her cheeks puffed up with pleasure at his attention. Draco Malfoy was concerned for her wellbeing outside of her bedroom, and she snorted as she realized that she must truly look a-fright.

His features relaxed at her expression, and his lips settled into a lopsided smirk that was only allowed to linger for a moment as Pansy tapped him on his shoulder to divert his attention. Pansy's dark bob curtained over his cheek as she leaned forward in confidence (a little too familiar, for Hermione's liking) to whisper in his ear. Hermione's smile faltered as Draco's lips twisted at the side, his narrowed eyes snapping to her curious pair at the exact moment that Harry leaned to rest his tired head on his fist, his tall body cutting off her view. Hermione scowled as she swallowed a second buttery forkful of noodles, cursing her short stature and her cramped position on the bench next to a gaggle of fifth-year girls who wouldn't give a centimeter on the seat. She considered lecturing Harry on his posture or asking him to move and then decided that he'd been through enough for the day and that he'd been a very good friend, and thus he more than deserved to hunch at the table.

Ginny's foot bumped into Hermione's calf to drag her attention back to the current conversation. "Are you alright?" Ginny asked with concern as she laid her hand on Hermione's wrist. Hermione nodded as Harry slid a dark phial across the table towards her plate.

"For your cold," Harry winked as steam puffed from the side of his head, and Hermione pocketed the bottle as her lips quirked in response, muttering a quiet thanks. She wouldn't drink it now, as she hated to be in public looking so ridiculous, she snorted, glancing back and forth between Harry and Ginny's steam-engine-heads, but she'd take it at bedtime.

"What are we going to do?" Ginny interrupted as she cut her eyes to her brother down the table, frowning as Ron muttered into his water glass, "He didn't care for Harry's apology."

Hermione took a long sip of water as she mulled over her options with narrowed eyes, feeling torn between wanting to march down the table to give Ron a piece of her mind as usual and upset with the knowledge that cornering him into a conversation would be the worst thing that she could do. He'd been clear that he desired space, and Hermione could think of only one thing that would soften his reproach. She came to a decision as she rose in an abrupt, jerky motion from the table.

"I'm going to speak with Lavender," she announced to Harry and Ginny's surprised faces, and the pair exchanged a look before Ginny's hesitant voice asked, "Is that… is that really wise?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she stuffed a final heaping bite of noodles into her mouth, swallowing and dabbing at her lips with her napkin as she grabbed for a breadstick and caught sight of Neville exiting the Hall.

"Undoubtedly, it's probably the second-worst decision that I'll make today. But, it needs to be done," she clipped as she tore off a chunk of bread, bounding in a hurried pace towards the exit. She called to Neville's back as she entered the corridor, and he slowed to a stop as she caught his side.

"I don't normally like to know," he started as she finished her food, "but what on earth did you three do, Hermione?" Neville questioned with a frown as his curiosity got the better of him, and Hermione winced as she glanced around his shoulder.

"What did you hear?" She asked in a careful voice, and he pursed his lips at her as he motioned up the stairs with his arm, continuing their walk to the common room.

"Hear? Hermione, the entire House witnessed it," Neville started with wide eyes as he waited for the stairs, "Lavender stormed up to her room in tears, and then Ron Ascendio'd after her like nothing I've ever seen," he laughed, "I mean, he took literal flight, Hermione. It was amazing."

"Oh my," Hermione breathed, impressed with Ron's clever use of the projection spell to bypass the anti-intrusion charm on the stairs.

"Yeah," Neville agreed, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe it. He sobered as he glanced at Hermione, "I'll spare you the details, but the end wasn't pretty. I think Ron's really upset."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she nodded, muttering a quiet, "I know."

Neville gave her arm an awkward pat as they climbed through the portrait hole. He hesitated in the common room as Hermione spotted an empty litter of butterbeer bottles on the back coffee table. "I'll clean that up," she sighed, tossing the rubbish as Neville sat on the sofa. He pulled out his textbook from his bag as he fell into his usual routine of companionable company, his limit for gossip at its end. "Thank you for walking with me," she said to the top of Neville's head as he buried his face in his homework. He nodded at her as he lifted his chin, muttering a soft, "Any time."

She nodded as she turned her pursed expression towards the girls' dormitory and sucked in a shaking breath as she rallied her courage for her ascent. I'm such a fool, she thought with embarrassment, stomping up the staircase to start a conversation with a witch who wasn't her best friend but who maybe would have grown to be one someday if Hermione hadn't lit a fire on their burgeoning friendship and fanned the flames with her hands.

Courage, she reminded herself as her feet faltered in front of the door, her heartbeat racing as she rubbed at her sternum with the backs of her anxious knuckles. She entered the dormitory and was pleased to find that most of the other seventh-year girls were still at dinner, although a few occupants were reading on their beds and they lowered their textbooks in surprise at Hermione's entrance, their curious gazes following the Head Girl's intrusion as she darted across the room to a familiar corner.

"Lavender? Are you in here?" Hermione called as she paced towards a large four-poster bed at the end of the row that was perched next to a matching bed that belonged to Parvati. The satin purple drapes were drawn halfway around the frame, and the little lantern was dimmed on the wooden end table, and Hermione found Lavender laying in a stoic lump under her homespun quilts that were colored in her namesake, her red eyes fluttering shut and her lips flattening in a hard line at Hermione's unwanted approach.

"Can we talk?" Hermione hedged into the awkward silence as she stopped at the foot of the bed, frowning at her friend's upset expression and wringing her hands in her sweater to give her fingers something to do. Her hangover throbbed at her temple as the Paracetamol wore off, and she fumbled for the potion in her pocket as she uncorked it with her thumb, deciding that now was the best time to take it after all, steaming ears be damned. Lavender deserved a proper conversation without Hermione's distraction.

"If we must," Lavender clipped as she motioned for Hermione to sit. Hermione pulled the drapes as her ears began to heat, and she muttered a silencing spell as she crossed her legs on the bed and rested her elbows on her knees, staring with sharp eyes and a clear head at her friend's shut expression.

"I'm sorry," Hermione breathed after she was sure that the spell had taken hold, fidgeting with the patchwork quilt in her hands as Lavender's lower lip trembled at the abrupt apology, "I behaved selfishly," Hermione continued as her brows furrowed, "And I wasn't thinking. And I wish that I could change how I handled everything, and I wish that I had waited for a better moment to speak with you all… separately," she urged with honesty, biting the inside of her cheek as Lavender's throat bobbed in a swallow, her expression shuddering with grief.

Lavender turned her round cheek to the side of her pillow and blew out a shaky breath as she tried to regain control of her emotions. She rubbed her eye against her shoulder as an errant tear streamed down her ruddy cheek, and she remained facing away for several moments before her courage returned, and she sat up in her bed. She leaned against the headboard as she stared down Hermione with a narrowed expression, her red eyes shining in the dim light of the room and her brown curls flattened in a frizzy mess against her head.

"I think we all wish that we could change how we handled things," Lavender clipped, folding her arms over her chest as Hermione's frown deepened in response. Hermione nodded as she considered her next words, choosing to be blunt, "Are you able to forgive me for being a drunken idiot?"

Lavender's face contorted as her lips trembled, and she choked down a quiet sob at the question as she buried her face into her hands, moaning with distress into her palms. Hermione hesitated for only one second before she crawled across the bed to envelop her friend in a tight hug, recoiling with a gasp as Lavender shoved her away.

"Don't," Lavender bit with a humorless laugh, shrugging out of Hermione's grip as she glared at the mattress, "Please, don't touch me."

Hermione froze as she sucked in her lips until they disappeared inside her mouth, staring with wide eyes at her friend as fervent apologies tumbled from her lips at her transgression. She realized with gnawing horror in her belly that she wasn't mending anything and that she was actually making everything worse.

"Please, don't apologize," Lavender whispered into her hands, and Hermione's remorse died on her tongue at the unexpected request. Her lips curled with confusion as Lavender lifted her teary eyes.

"This isn't about Ron, and this isn't about you. This is about me," Lavender huffed with a deep frown as she hugged her knees to her chest, tucking the blankets in a protective hold around her lower half as she spoke, "You have no idea what it's like to walk in your shadow, Hermione…," Lavender whispered, "To try to fill the shoes of Gryffindor's Golden Girl."

Hermione's head snapped back at the black comment, and her heart stuttered in her breast as her mind paced, trying to grasp where this conversation was coming from as she hadn't planned for this reaction at all. She kept her immediate What? to herself as she studied Lavender's broken expression, her stomach aflutter with apprehension as she tried to remain calm and collective. Her thready resolve cracked as Lavender continued.

"I really don't like you sometimes," Lavender admitted in a strained whisper, and Hermione's mouth twisted into an ugly frown as she bristled at the confession. She shook her head in protest as Lavender's lips trembled, "But I try to, for Ronald's sake, because I know that you're a permanent fixture in his life. But I would be a liar if I said that your closeness didn't bother me, and I hate that I think such ugly thoughts, because you're actually really… lovely, when I think about you outside of Ron," Lavender admitted with an upset frown as she stared at her knees, wiping at her tears with the backs of her hands. She took a few moments to collect herself before she continued her somber confession, her reluctant words filling the silence.

"So what happened in your room wasn't about you and Malfoy… or even about you and Ronald, really. It was about me, Hermione, and my jealous feelings at seeing my boyfriend upset over you. And I couldn't handle it. I was green with envy and ashamed of myself," she huffed, her lips twisting at the side as she spoke, "And I want to be free from this feeling."

Hermione couldn't help herself as she interrupted, "But Lavender, Ron and I have been strictly friends for almost a decade- "

"Oh, I'm well aware," Lavender sighed, squeezing her eyes shut as she rested her cheek against her knees, muffling her quiet laugh into the quilt as she spoke, "Sometimes I think that I can't compete with your history."

Hermione stalled as her mind paced with the new information, wondering how on earth the other girl could have bottled her jealousy with a smile while they chatted about books and played games with Ginny. Her brain sputtered as Lavender interrupted her pacing thoughts with a quiet beg, "Swear that you won't tell anyone."

Hermione nodded her bewildered assent as Lavender swallowed, her confession tumbling from her lips as if she couldn't control it, "Did you know that I asked Parvati to send a Patronus if you came into the common room? I was studying for an exam in the library, and I really didn't have time to leave, but I wanted to be there when Ron was drinking in case he… in case he forgot about me."

Hermione tried very hard to refrain from flinching at the insecure admission, as Lavender's wind-swept appearance from that afternoon popped into her mind, and she frowned as she sputtered, "But you can't actually think that he would forget you? Or that this is a competition? Ron adores you, Lavender!" She urged, wishing more than anything for her mother's wisdom as she fumbled through this conversation with blind eyes, feeling like she was smacking her face into brick wall after brick wall as Lavender's expression didn't budge an inch.

"I know that it isn't a competition, Hermione, but I feel like it is," Lavender defended, lifting up her head as her heavy stare fell on Hermione's shining eyes, "Do you see what I mean? I know that I'm being irrational and that you're only friends, but it doesn't change how I feel."

Hermione stared at the purple curtains with an absent expression as she processed the information, tucking away her emotions as she wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and tilting her head to the side as she wrapped her mind around the extent of the other girl's feelings. She knew that Lavender was too polite and too astute to ever issue Ron an ultimatum, as was obvious now at the lengths that she'd taken to hide her jealousy, and that Ron would bristle and shut down at such a request, anyway. But her mind raced as she recalled that Ron had already made the first move on the chessboard to salvage his romantic relationship, and her face contorted into a grimace as she realized that he was waiting for her response. He probably expected her to fight him and ignore his request for space, as she often did when they butted heads over minor issues in the past, and as she was doing right now as she ignored his plea to leave Lavender alone, as certainly… she had been confident that she knew what was best… certainly, she had known better than Ron…

She squeezed her fingers together as the only opening on her mental chessboard lit up with a million pointing lights, a reluctant ache dulling her chest as she realized what she had to do. She schooled her voice into a slow, measured lilt, proud that she only shook a little bit as she asked, "How can I help you, Lavender? What can I do?"

Lavender shrugged her shoulder as if she hadn't expected this question, a sad bout of laughter tumbling from her trembling mouth. She bit her lip like she wanted to argue and then shook her head with defeat. "I can't believe that you're showing me kindness after all of this," she sighed, stretching out her legs as her red eyes leveled on Hermione's somber face with finality, "You really are a good friend, Hermione, but I don't deserve you right now. I have to deal with this on my own."

Hermione shook her head with determination as she grabbed Lavender's small hand in her own, "But I want to help you," she urged in a rush, biting her lip as Lavender lifted her palm out of her grasp in a staying motion, her bloodshot eyes softening at the corners as she pursed her lips with indecision.

"Goodness… alright… yes, if you insist… can you ask Ronald to meet me in our secret spot at 10 o'clock? I would ask him myself, but…," she gestured at her frazzled, tear-stained appearance and sighed, "He'll know what you mean."

"Of course," Hermione nodded, frowning as a warning chill crept up her spine. She swallowed as she asked, "Are you ending things with Ron?" Lavender grimaced as she tilted her head to stare at her purple canopy, her round cheeks puffing with her breath as she admitted with a self-deprecating clip, "No. But he should know that he's dating a horrible, jealous witch and make the decision for himself. I've only ever told you and Parvati."

Hermione shook her head at Lavender's harsh assessment, feeling that she was being too critical. She interjected her contradictory opinion with a mild, "Actually, I really don't think that you're horrible at all," as she scooted to the edge of the bed, missing Lavender's surprised expression as she continued over her shoulder, "You're very astute to your emotions, and while I may not understand your entire position, I can see why you feel… as you do."

She pulled back the curtains as Lavender's lips trembled, her red eyes shining with tears as she sniffled. In an unexpected move, she gripped Hermione's hand and squeezed her palm as she whispered, her tired voice ringing with regret, "I really liked spending time with you, Hermione. And I hope that someday, we can be friends."

Hermione nodded as her lips curled, a dull knife puncturing her tender heart as she felt like she'd just been dumped. She squeezed Lavender's hand once and then let go, turning to fulfill her request when the other girl called, "Wait…," to her back.

"I may have… I may have been yelling when I came into the dormitory earlier," Lavender admitted with a blush on her cheeks, her thin brows furrowing, "And people may have heard what I said about you and Malfoy before Parvati silenced the curtains," she sighed, giving Hermione an apologetic frown as she urged with pleading eyes, "I didn't mean to gossip this time, I swear it."

Hermione nodded and lifted her eyes to the ceiling as she bit back a hysterical, inappropriate laugh at her luck. She felt like she was experiencing someone else's life, and she decided that this confession was the least surprising of the entire evening. She shrugged her shoulders as she replied in an even voice, "It's really quite alright. I'll deliver your message," as she exited the room.

She found Ron downstairs in the corner, his body draped over the cushion of the sofa in front of the fireplace and his eyes closed as he rested his heavy head on his fist. A soft waft of steam emitted from his ears from the PepperUp potion that he'd consumed for his hangover – a gift from Harry, who sat in companionable silence at his side. Soft light from the fireplace danced in shadows over Ron's profile while he brooded, and Harry shook his steaming head in warning at Hermione's quiet approach. She swallowed her nerves and interrupted their silent camaraderie anyway, feeling a tiny inkling of jealousy that Harry was able to patch things over with such ease. Life really wasn't fair.

She squared her shoulders as she knew in her heart that she was making the right move, the only one that would save her friendship with Ron in the long run, "Lavender would like to see you in your secret spot at ten, Ronald," she said in a soft hush, biting her cheek as his eyes snapped open at her voice. He held her gaze for a long moment, his fair eyelids marred with red and purple smudges from crying, before he dipped his chin and muttered a quiet, "Thanks."

She nodded her head as she rallied her Gryffindor courage, her heart thumping in a wild beat as she moved her mental chess piece forward with reluctance onto the square, knowing the outcome as she asked, "Were you serious about your request for space?" Her lips trembled as Ron didn't hesitate to nod, his answering mental token smashing hers off of the board with a reverberating crack. She swallowed her feelings as she rested her hand on her hip, ignoring how her voice fractured as she snapped, "Then I'll grant you and Lavender reprieve from my… company. But I expect you to tell me when you've had enough space. And you won't be rid of me, Ronald Weasley. I'll always be your friend."

His face contorted as he whipped his head to stare into the flames, his breath lurching in his chest as his shoulders shook. Harry pushed off of the sofa in a wild flurry, his instinct to mediate in full effect as his concerned eyes bounced between his friends with indecision on who needed his immediate help. Hermione made his choice for him as she directed her shaking hand towards Ron's lurching form, spinning on her heels as she retreated to her dormitory. She popped another Paracetamol as she flung onto her mattress, not bothering to undress. She practiced breathing exercises, staring in furrowed silence at the rafters for what could have been hours, pondering, as tears dried on her face. Lavender's insecure confessions repeated over and over in her mind until she couldn't handle their sad bite anymore. She turned to her side in defeat, closing her tired eyes as she buried her face into her tartan, succumbing to a dreamless sleep.

The next morning found Hermione in somewhat better spirits as a good night's rest was wont to do, and her eyes cracked open at the sound of her wand's ringing alarm as she fumbled to silence it. Her hangover had subsided, and her head was no longer throbbing, and her expression was relaxed as soft grey sunlight filtered into her room, greeting her eyes with the dawn of a new autumn day. She vowed to herself as she stirred that she wouldn't wallow in regret: she would persevere, as she always had, and adjust to her new normal.

She comforted herself with the knowledge that her friendships weren't actually over, just altered at the moment. And, she was mature enough to realize that a little bit of space didn't actually mean that they would never speak again. Emotions are exceedingly complex, she huffed as she showered, toweling down her body and changing into a fresh pair of tan linen trousers and a black turtleneck sweater to cover her neck. She breakfasted with Ginny and Neville as she shot a watery smile down the table at Harry, an edgy frown marring his face at their group's separation as he split his time with Ron. Ginny held her anxious hand in solidarity under the table as they ate in silence. Hermione wiped at her eyes with as much discretion as she could muster as she felt overcome with an incredible amount of love towards her treasured friend.

When she entered her Potions lecture a short time later with her spirit dulled, she found Draco dressed in a dark green robe over his white collared dress shirt with his striped green tie tossed over his shoulder as he worked. Deep blue flames licked at the surface of his Veritaserum potion, an expected magical turbulence as they ended the near of their brew, and he lifted his eyes over the smoke in acknowledgement at Hermione's entrance. They had one week left of brewing before they were ready to test their concoctions, and Professor Slughorn was assessing each student's progress as he walked the aisles, correcting techniques and answering nervous questions with as much patience as he could produce on a Monday morning.

"Come now, Mister Boot. This isn't Azkaban," Slughorn sighed as he frowned at Terry's stuttering anxiety over consuming the truth serum, "You are not under interrogation for war crimes. And you are only allowed to ask approved questions from the Ministry, as you'll recall from your reading material. Deviation from the curriculum is strictly forbidden."

Terry stuttered in argument as Hermione took her place across from Draco, a confused smile tugging at her lips as she realized that Draco had removed her cauldron from the cupboard and had placed it at her chair. She cleared her throat as she took off her robe and twisted her hair into a secure clip on the back of her head.

"Thank you," she murmured, nodding towards her cauldron as she laid her wand on the table. Draco's lips tilted in an answering smirk and he was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat, his low voice a hushed murmur in the chattering of the room. "Is your research going well?" He asked with a polite drawl as Hermione opened her textbook. His careful eyes studied her fingers as they turned the battered pages of her book, and she felt her cheeks heat under his gaze. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones were whispering in furious conjecture at the neighboring table, their speculative glances flitting to the rumored pair with frequent repetition, and Draco ignored them while he waited for Hermione's reply.

"With the Helios Elixir?" She asked with distraction, oblivious to the Hufflepuffs' piqued interest as she dipped her chin, finding the Veritaserum chapter at last, "Yes, I'm almost ready to make my written proposal," she replied, removing a paperweight from her satchel and placing it on the rustling pages. Slughorn had opened a window for ventilation, and the room held a breeze. "I have a few more questions that I'll have to research, but it shouldn't be an issue."

She glanced up at Draco as she reached for her wand, asking a confused, "What?" at his incredulous expression. He snorted at her as he moved to the far side of his cauldron, his hip perching against the table as he leaned one arm against the wood and lifted his brow, and Hermione stepped to the side across from him so that he could speak to her in confidence without the Hufflepuffs' burning ears. He leaned forward as he murmured, "You know, Granger, I heard an interesting rumor last night… involving me and a lioness," he teased, tapping his elegant fingers on the wood as he waited for her to engage in his banter, his grey eyes examining her face.

"Is that so?" She replied, one dark brow arching as she mimicked his posture, jutting her hip out at the side. She knew exactly what he'd heard, and she was pleased that he didn't seem upset by the gossip as it was much too late to change its course now.

"Mmm," he hummed, his eyes bouncing to her lips as his expression softened, "Rumor has it that I'm besotted," he replied, his gruff voice humming in her ears and wrapping in pleasure around her abdomen, and she bit her lip as her fervent eyes dipped to his mouth.

"Are you upset by the rumor?" She asked out of politeness more than anything else, as she already assumed that he wasn't by his playful teasing. Her potion lay long forgotten at her side as the blue flames tipped above the edge of her cauldron in a dangerous crackle.

"No," he smirked, turning his head to look at the Hufflepuffs and catching Susan in the blatant act of eavesdropping, her torso leaning over the aisle in such an exaggerated stretch as she pretended to adjust her shoe that she almost fell out of her seat as she snapped back in her chair. The nosy witch ducked her head as she pretended to read her textbook, her cheeks aflame with color as Draco chuckled. His smug eyes settled back on Hermione, and his hand slid across the table towards hers, close but not quite touching as he asked, "How many people did you tell, Granger?"

"Only four," was her breathy reply as her cheeks flamed, "But one of them was Lavender." Draco snorted as he straightened, Lavender's reputation as an incorrigible gossip needing no further explanation. He shook his head in amusement and brushed his hair out of his eyes as his teasing continued, "And will my parents read about our arrangement in tomorrow's paper?" He quipped, and she pursed her lips at him as a guilty expression marred her face, grimacing as she asked, "Should I have actually… consulted with you first? I didn't think that it was a secret, as you didn't say… but I wasn't planning on advertising it, either," she amended, "I just didn't want to lie. My friends would have sorted it out… maybe not immediately, but eventually, as it could hardly be kept a secret when you'll be visiting my room so frequently," she defended, and he held up one hand in a placating gesture to stop her babbling as his cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink.

"It's alright," he chuckled as the flames on his cauldron died down, clearing his throat as he replied, "Most people will believe that it's only a rumor. Nothing will come from it." She nodded her head in agreement as he lowered his voice, his serious eyes holding hers, "But Granger… I'd like to hear more about how often you expect me to be visiting your room."

She flushed at his bold question as her mind raced. Of course, Saturday was the obvious answer that would invite the least amount of suspicion from her housemates, but they would be interrupted by frequent stirring, and she didn't want their experiment to compete with their actual school project. And while they weren't actually researching together on the Helios potion, they could use their shared topic as an excuse to meet on other nights, when she wasn't busy with patrols… and she clenched her thighs as his warm eyes dipped to her mouth, her voice a thready whisper as she asked "Can you come this evening?"

His eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled, nodding his head as his raspy drawl met her ears, "What time?"

"Seven?"

"And what should I bring?"

"Just yourself," she huffed with an uncertain smile, her face flushing and her eyes widening a moment later as she realized that he'd meant should he bring a sheath. Her heart hammered in her chest as her eyes snapped to the table, and she felt a sudden flood of worry as she realized that she didn't know of any contraceptive potions or spells, as they were hardly part of the curriculum or available in a library book. She straightened her posture as a sudden bout of shyness overtook her, and she was no longer able to tolerate Draco's smoldering gaze. His hand slid across the wood as his fingers folded over her own, sensing her agitation, and Hermione ignored Justin Finch-Fletchley's shocked gasp from across the aisle as she swallowed her anxiety.

She rubbed her foot up her calf as she met Draco's encouraging gaze, and she was about to suggest that they practice more discretion when Slughorn interrupted their intimate conversation by clearing his throat. They startled apart as Slughorn frowned in bewilderment, his sharp gaze cutting to their flushed faces as he absorbed the awkward moment. His thin lips flattened as he clasped his arthritic hands over his belly, admonishing them in a whisper as he scoffed, "Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger… this isn't what I meant when I advised you to put your squabbles aside!"

Hermione died with embarrassment as her eyes whipped around the room to see who'd heard his scathing remark, feeling a small amount of relief as the only table that appeared to be watching was the obvious one. Quiet lies tumbled from her lips that it wasn't what it looked like as Susan smacked at Justin's shoulder in her periphery. Hermione's helpless gaze cut to Draco's and he stared at her with a blank expression as if this was the consequence of their entanglement, and he accepted it without arguing. Slughorn held up his hand to quiet her babbling as he closed his tired eyes, rubbing his stiff fingers on the bridge of his bumpy nose as he sighed, "It's of no consequence to me, Miss Granger, so long as you remain professional in class and complete your assignments." He said in a hush, advising Hermione to turn down the heat on her cauldron lest all of her serum evaporate.

Hermione swallowed as she obeyed with a spell, frowning as Slughorn continued his check of their potions in silence, and glaring at Draco as he offered no rebuttal or help in her ruse. Slughorn leveled them with one last, odd expression as he shook his head, muttering about teenagers as he departed towards the next table.

"You could have said something," Hermione whispered to Draco as he smirked in reply, and he rolled his eyes as he tapped his fingers on the table, his voice quiet as he teased, "You can punish me for it tonight."