"Hermione?" Ron's voice sounded as he entered the abandoned classroom, pulling a giggling Lavender by the hand behind him. "What are you doing in here?"

His best friend, Hermione Granger, was sitting miserably on the teacher's desk, and at the sound of Ron's voice had jumped, hiccoughing and wiping hurriedly at her tear-filled eyes.

"Oh, hello, Ron," Hermione sniffled with false cheeriness, turning her face away as her voice cracked traitorously.

"Er… hello, Hermione," Ron said awkwardly, "Are you, uh… are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine – Sorry, you look occupied, I'll just be leaving then," Hermione said hurriedly, avoiding looking at Ron and Lavender as she gathered up her robes.

Ron glanced sideways at Lavender, who had stopped giggling and was now peering at Hermione curiously. He reached out his hand that was not holding Lavender's and stopped Hermione as she attempted to hurry past them. Hermione looked down to his hand firmly on her shoulder and up at him, startled, an unspoken question in her eyes.

Ron sighed, looking between his crying friend and his… girlfriend? Snogging partner? Before turning fully to address Lavender, "Do you mind, er… I mean, just that… could you just give us a minute, or actually, just…" he trailed off. He shook his head, trying to dissipate the fog that seemed to have formed in his brain, and Hermione hiccoughed again. "Right, then," Ron said, nodding firmly to himself, and then to Lavender. "Rain check?"

Lavender looked suspiciously between him and his hand still on Hermione's shoulder, and then to Hermione's tear-streaked face. Hermione shifted uncomfortably under her gaze as Lavender's eyes narrowed, and then her whole face softened as she seemed to reach a decision. "Alright then."

Ron let out a relieved breath, "I'll see you in the common room to say goodnight, yeah?"

A shy smile spread across Lavender's face as she stood straighter and said brightly, "Yeah. Yeah, alright." She nodded to him and kissed his cheek, before disappearing back into the hallway, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Hermione was studiously avoiding Ron's gaze when he turned back to look at her, looking at her shoes with crossed arms and furrowed brows as if they were a particularly difficult arithmancy problem she was trying to solve.

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. He knew he was pants when it came to being emotionally sensitive. What was it Hermione had said last year? Emotional range of a teaspoon, was it? He studied her sad face – her lip was trembling as she tried to suppress her crying, tears standing welled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. Had he done something wrong? Had Harry? Why else would she pretend that she was fine when she clearly wasn't?

He shook his head, clearing his muddled thoughts. He might not be the best at understanding crying girls but he was always good for a bit of a laugh, wasn't he? When he wasn't being a moody git anyway.

"Right, then. What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, scandalized, jolting upward to look at him, gaping. Her eyebrows furrowed together again, and Ron felt cheered to see his friend acting a little more herself as she chastised him. "Do you have to be so crass?!"

"Ah, there she is!" Ron said, grinning widely at her. "I almost didn't recognize you for a second, moping in an empty classroom pretending to be fine when clearly something must be wrong." His grin turned into a frown, as his friend once again retreated into herself, turning away from Ron and wiping furiously at her eyes.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing. I'm - urgh!" Hermione growled in frustration as her voice cracked and more tears streaked down her cheeks.

"You're not fine, Hermione," said Ron, wrapping her arm around Hermione's shoulder and squeezing her in an awkward half hug. "If I did something stupid to hurt your feelings without realizing, I'm sorry, you know? And if it was something stupid Malfoy did just say the word and I'll hex him for you."

Hermione half-laughed, half-sobbed, burrowing her face into Ron's chest as she turned and threw her arms around his waist in a crushing hug. And then she was fully sobbing, a wet spot growing on the front of his robes, and Ron shushed her and rubbed her back as consolingly as he could in his confusion.

Her sobs eventually faded to hiccoughs and sniffles before she mumbled something incoherently into Ron's robes.

"What was that?" he asked.

Hermione pulled her head back from Ron, and glanced up at him briefly before turning her gaze to the wall at the far side of the classroom. She inhaled and exhaled on a sigh, her cheeks flushing red. "I said," she closed her eyes and sighed again, speaking so quietly that Ron had to lean down to hear her, "I said I'm worried you and Harry don't need me anymore."

"WHAT!?" Ron shouted, alarmed. He shook his head violently, and lowered his voice to ask again, incredulously, "What? Hermione, that's mad. Of course we need you."

Hermione didn't acknowledge him, pulling away to sit heavily in one of the chairs, fiddling with he hands in her lap. "Or I guess, I know you need me, of course, for last minute help with essays or study guides or what have you," she rambled, "But you don't really, do you? Harry doesn't, with that bloody book. You and Harry have each other, best mates. You have Lavender Brown to snog and Harry's The Chosen One with girls lining up for a chance with him. You just, put up with me." Her voice grew stronger, her words came faster, but she sounded resigned. "'She's a bossy, know-it-all, nagging, tightly wound nightmare, but at least she'll make sure you don't fail your O.W.L.S.,'" she said, in a poor imitation of him. "'She's rather plain and bookish, but, well, she helped me fight some Death Eaters once so I guess I'll keep her around,'" she continued, in what Ron guessed was her go at impersonating Harry. "But I'm not very fun to be around, am I? Not really anyone's first choice. I'm worried that you'll realize that you just keep me around out of convenience, that you're going to pair off and not need me for anything anymore and I'll be left alone again."

Hermione buried her face into the desk in front of her, arms circling round and hair falling down to obscure her flushing face completely. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, embarrassed.

Ron didn't respond for a full minute before Hermione hesitantly looked up from the desk. Ron was openly gaping at her.

"Bloody hell, Hermione. You've gone completely mental."

Hermione blinked at him in confusion. "I'm… what?"

"For someone so bloody brilliant you're being really thick."

Her face colored even more. "I'm what?!" she repeated, sputtering indignantly.

"Thick," Ron confirmed, nodding. "And completely mental."

Hermione looked like she was trying to form an angry retort, but Ron cut her off. "Hermione, of course we need you, but that's not why we keep you around." Her mouth closed and she looked at him curiously. Taking this as a good sign, Ron plowed on. "Hermione, you're one of my best friends. I know we bicker and row over stupid shite all the time, but you're brilliant and scary and kind. I don't really fully understand you but I know that my life has more joy because you're in it. I know that Harry and I are lucky to have someone like you worrying over us all the time. I know I'm lucky to have you to help me keep Harry in line when he's brooding or indulging his saving people thing."

"You, me, and Harry, we all balance each other out. We all make each other better. Sure, I think you're a bit annoying sometimes, but so am I, and so is Harry, and I know that you don't love us any less for it." Ron sighed dramatically, tsking at Hermione and shaking his head. "Be kinder to yourself, would you?"

Hermione leapt from the chair and threw herself at Ron in a hug that nearly bowled him over. She was crying again. "Oh, Ron!"

Eventually she pulled away, wiping at her eyes again, but this time she was smiling at him. "Thank you," she said, still beaming. "You're one of my best friends, too." Ron felt his chest fill with warmth and a flush begin to creep up his cheeks.

"No problem, Hermione. Really, don't mention it. Seamus and Dean are already going to take the mickey out about Lavender. They don't need any more encouragement, do they?"

To his relief, Hermione laughed. "You and Lavender, then?" she asked, tilting her head at him in question.

"Yeah, yeah I think so." Ron answered, blushing.

"I didn't realize you fancied her. I was… surprised, I guess, when I saw you in the common room." Ron noted that she didn't look angry, but there was something in her expression that made him want to tread carefully.

"I didn't, really. I don't really know how it happened, just now, after the match. But it's good, I reckon… I mean, it's nice to feel wanted, isn't it? And Lavender might be a little, er, a little flighty? Frivolous, maybe? Well, she's not usually very serious, is she? But I think maybe that could be a good thing. She makes me feel like a teenager, I guess. I like her. She's nice, isn't she?" Ron rambled uncertainly.

Hermione was silent for a minute. "I was a little hurt. When I saw it. It's why I came in here." Ron winced. "I guess maybe I thought…" Hermione trailed off, before her face hardened and she nodded to herself, as if deciding something. "I guess I thought maybe you might fancy me, and I was hurt because I thought if you didn't fancy me that nobody would." Her eyes met his. "I suppose that's not very fair to you, is it? You're right, I think, about Lavender – it must feel nice that she chose you, and not because she felt obligated or as a last resort or out of some kind of desperation."

"I'm sorry," said Ron suddenly, and Hermione's face wrinkled in confusion.

"For what?" she asked.

"If I ever made you feel like a last resort." Ron felt a lump in his throat. But he felt particularly brave, talking to Hermione like this. Airing grievances without any of the usual misunderstanding or resentment. So he decided to tell Hermione something that he'd never voiced to anyone before, though he had felt it for ages. Their whole friendship, maybe.

"I feel like I come second to you all the time, like you're always choosing Harry over me. Sometimes I feel so jealous, like Harry gets everything I want. Fame, glory, money…" he looked at her significantly, "The girl."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, eyes comically wide, but Ron cut her off. "But that's not fair to either of you, is it? If you did fancy each other, I mean? It doesn't mean that I come last to you. It doesn't mean you're choosing him over me, does it? It's just that he means something different to you. I know, I see the way you look at him. Everyone sees it. I know Skeeter's mad, but she didn't make it out of whole cloth, those stories Fourth Year, you know? Krum saw it. Cho saw it. Everyone but Harry sees it, I think."

It felt like a revelation, saying these things to Hermione. Things he had suspected about her feelings for years.

"Harry likes Ginny," said Hermione, quickly, but her face was glowing red, "He doesn't fancy me." It was not lost on Ron that she didn't say anything about her not fancying Harry. I knew it, he thought smugly, though a touch sadly, too.

"Harry's got his head up his arse."

Hermione gasped. "Ron!"

"He does!" Ron defended. "He's bloody oblivious! Too busy worrying about Dark Lords and Malfoy and prophecies to notice how good he's got it!"

"How good he's… Ronald! He's got the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders! You can't possibly think…"

"Hermione," Ron interrupted, while she glared at him defiantly, "I'm not saying he doesn't. I'm not saying his life isn't hard. I don't bloody envy him that. I'm just saying, anyone can see that you'd walk to the ends of the Earth for him. You would!" he cut in, before Hermione could interject, "You would, and you wouldn't think twice about it."

"You would, too," said Hermione accusingly, but there was no anger in it.

"Course I would," said Ron, "But it's different."

"How?"

"Hermione, you cancelled your ski trip with your family, and it's lucky you did, because before you came, he wouldn't answer the door for anybody! And then, after what happened at the Ministry... You wouldn't know this. I mean, but, you were taking ten potions a day. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't say, but we all knew you would've died if Dolohov hadn't been silenced, we all knew it hurt a lot more than you were letting on. Still does, doesn't it?" He raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who was uncharacteristically silent, mouth hanging open. "Harry was beside himself. Really, besides Sirius I've never seen him so distraught. I mean, Neville told me that when it happened, before he knew you had a pulse, Harry was useless, just completely stopped functioning. He didn't do that when he saw me attacked by brains and acting like I belonged in the loony bin, or Neville had his nose broken, or Ginny's ankle.

"Anyway, in the hospital wing, when you were sleeping, he took up post at your bedside. Holding your hand, whispering under his breath. Just, the way he was looking at you… He doesn't even realize how important you are to him. It's different, innit? The way he responds to you. And sometimes, it's like you're thinking with the same brain. It's scary, really, the way you understand each other."

"Ron," said Hermione sadly, "That doesn't… He's still… we're all family, aren't we? That was decided a long time ago. That's enough for me." She sniffed, and then stomped her foot, looking to Ron like petulant child. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" She said exasperatedly, coming back to herself. "We're sixteen! It's a silly crush on my best friend. It doesn't mean anything. It's… it's not like true love or soulmates or any of that nonsense. It's not all as serious as this, is it? Thank you, really, but I'm fine. I just want him to be happy, and if that's with Ginny, well, okay then."

Ron laughed. Hermione glared. He shrugged, shaking his head at her. "Have it your way then."

Then Hermione looked uncharacteristically hesitant. "Erm, Ron? You won't… er, you won't tell him, will you?"

"Your secret's safe with me." He mimed zipping his lips, locking them shut, and throwing away the key.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Ron."

Not a moment later, the door to the classroom opened again, only this time Harry stumbled in, a concerned look on his face. It took him a second to catch sight of them, and then he was blinking at them slowly in confusion, looking back and forth between them as if he wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to be looking at. "Er…" he said uncertainly.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, nodding at her. Harry was frowning slightly, no doubt having noticed Hermione's red eyes and the tear tracks on her cheeks. Ron, however, felt the beginnings of a smirk curl at the corners of his mouth. Harry had come to check on her. Of course he had.

Ron nudged Hermione with his elbow, now fully smirking down at her, waggling his eyebrows and nodding back over to where Harry was standing.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione huffed, rolling her eyes at Ron.

She turned to address their other best friend, "I'm fine, Harry, thank you for asking."

Harry visibly relaxed in relief, "Oh, good," he said. "I was worried that…" he trailed off, looking uncertainly again at Ron, who was still smirking, and back to Hermione, who was still looking distinctly rumpled. His gaze lingered on Hermione, before he nodded to himself, appearing to reach some kind of conclusion. "Right, doesn't matter. Should we rejoin the celebration?"

Hermione nodded quickly, grabbing her robes and dashing past both of them, leading the way back to the common room with long strides to keep ahead of Ron and Harry.

"Is she really alright, then? You two haven't had another row, have you?" Harry whispered to Ron worriedly as they tried to keep up with Hermione. "I thought you'd be with Lavender somewhere…"

Ron grinned. "Hermione and I are fine, honest, mate. Maybe even better than normal."

This news did not entirely seem to please Harry, and Ron grinned even more widely. Harry might not know how he felt, but Ron thought maybe he might be uniquely suited to help him figure it out.