Saturday 2nd November 1996, 10:00 am
Dear Diary,
I had the worst sleep ever last night. Seriously. Even worse than after mine and Ron's massive fight a few weeks ago.
Today is the day of the big Quidditch game, the first one of the season, and my stomach is a massive bundle of nerves. It's like a bag of flobberworms, a hundred snitches, and a stampede of Hippogriffs have taken up residence in there and are doing their best to make me vomit.
Of course, this horrible feeling has nothing to do with the match, but what I have to do after.
Why, oh why did it have to be against Slytherin? Why couldn't it have been against Hufflepuff, which would have been a lot easier for us to play, especially with an almost brand new team this year?
I've just come back from breakfast, where I sat on my own, away from the team. Harry is adamant they should eat together to solidify their spirit. I couldn't help but notice that Ron didn't seem to be as nervous as he was last season, where he often arrived for pre-match meals looking green and refused any attempt from Harry and me to shove food at him.
But he's going to be okay today. He's been training so hard, putting his all into every session. And he's a good player when he sets his mind to it and keeps a calm head. I only hope nothing stupid distracts him from all of his hard work because I know it only takes one slip to send him into a downward spiral until everything is going wrong.
And then he's in the worst of moods.
Despite my assertions the other day that I will face Ron and ask him out properly no matter how the game finishes, I'm so worried it'll go badly, and I'll have to tackle my task whilst he's grumpy. When he's like that, I can try everything to appease him, but all I tend to do is make his mood a hundred times worse.
But, I made a promise to myself, and I have to stick to it. My grandmother constantly tells me that it's essential for me to keep my word as a princess. I don't want to end up one of those leaders who can't be trusted, like the politicians involved in running both sides of the United Kingdom. Whatever the results, I will ask Ron. He needs to know I want nothing more than to be his girlfriend, and for us to grow old together, for him to become my Prince consort and for us to make lots of tiny heirs.
Alright, so maybe I should keep the last two to myself, at least for now. Although Ron knows how strange and over the top I can get, I don't want to scare him off straight away. Especially not with the consort stuff. I mean, I've not even shown him my grandmother's list of rules. They'll have to be introduced to Ron bit by bit if he does say yes, maybe even one per year. That should give him enough time to adjust.
Anyway, to help me with my quest, I have prepared a list of things I need to say to him. They should help make sure everything is clear between us, and hopefully, should secure a positive outcome.
I should tell Ron how long I have fancied him for - Okay, so I may have only just realised I have feelings for him, but I'm pretty sure something has been stirring since the Yule Ball, which explains why I was so annoyed he didn't ask me to be his date.
My intentions - I want to be his girlfriend and go on dates with him. I would like to kiss him and eventually do other THINGS with him (when we both feel ready to do IT). I would also like him to accompany me to all official royal events. (Maybe I should leave this one out for now?)
Reasons why we should go out - We've been good friends for a long time, and we already know we get on together, most of the time. But we have fun together all of the time, sometimes even when we are angry with each other. When we fight, it doesn't last ages. Also, I already get on well with his family.
There's also a list of reasons why we shouldn't be together because my brain can't give me a break, but I'm not going to write them down for fear of jinxing myself.
I have to leave for the game soon, but I'm going to take my journal, just in case I think of anything else to jot down. I have plenty of time to memorise my evidence before we speak.
The team is gathering at the portrait hole and making a massive racket about it. I better head over and wish them luck and make sure the boys see me being super supportive and a good friend. It'll help keep me in their good books. But, I must remember not to kiss Ron again, especially not in front of everyone else. Harry might get suspicious, and I don't want him ruining my surprise for Ron later.
Also, I'm not all that keen on public displays of affection, either.
Until I remember to write again x
Hermione snaps her diary shut and jumps to her feet, keeping a firm grip on the book as she weaves her way through the crowds of Gryffindors swarming the team. For once in her life, she's grateful for her small stature because it makes it easier to duck below the arms of students eager to wish the team good luck.
She pauses to compose herself, reminding herself that the day will go well before she reemerges in front of Ron, Harry and Ginny.
"There you are!" Ron calls out to her, a massive smile splitting his face in two. "Where were you at breakfast?"
"Harry said team only."
"I thought maybe your grandmother had persuaded you to go to princess lessons and you were going to miss the game."
Although Hermione rolls her eyes, she can't stop the grin from spreading over her face as she steps closer to him. He missed her at breakfast, and the comment quells her nerves straight away. It tells her that whatever the game's outcome today, she knows her post-match mission will succeed. After all, Ron doesn't smile like that for everyone in the house.
She's sure the entire common room can hear the erratic rhythm of her heart pounding against her rib cage as she responds, "I told you I'd be here and, unlike last time, I'm sticking to my word. So here I am. I can't wait to see you play."
"Yeah?" Ron breathes out. "Reckon it's going to be a good game. P'raps a little chilly, but at least the sky is clear."
"Perfect flying conditions. You're going to smash it."
"I'll try."
The rest of the students squishing around them fade into nothing as Ron's deep blue eyes burn into hers. It's an intense stare that steals her breath, yet she finds herself unable to look away. They're locked in with each other's gaze, like a magizoologist greeting a Hippogriff for the first time. Maybe I should throw caution to the wind and do it now. She's sure she won't get a moment as perfect as this.
Hermione swallows hard against the white cotton fluff filling her mouth. "Ron…I…"
"Come on mate, we're going to be late!" Harry loops his arm around Ron's shoulder, beaming as he spots Hermione standing with him. "Hey 'Mione! Glad you can make it. See you back here after the game, yeah?"
Before she can even register what's happened, Harry pulls Ron away with the rest of the team, ruining her perfect moment. The other Gryffindors pile out of the portrait hole, taking all the noise with them. Hermione stands in the middle of the common room, which is now empty save for Tonks, who has been toasting her feet at the fire.
"Why the long face, Princess?"
"What?" Hermione snaps out of her disappointment quickly. She will not let the missed opportunity ruin her good mood, and she forces a smile back onto her face, although it's slightly less genuine than before. "Oh, nothing. Nervous about the game, I guess."
Tonks gets to her feet, yawning and stretching as she moves. "Slytherin is a tough one to beat, but at least it'll be over and done with and the rest of the season will be a doddle. Are you ready to go?"
Hermione shrinks her diary and tucks it into her pocket before pulling her jumper over her head and adding her coat, scarf and hat. "Yep! We're meeting Neville and Luna down there."
"Righto. Off we go!"
⁂
By the time Hermione and Tonks get to the pitch, the stands are teeming with Quidditch fans. The air is crisp and clean, filling their lungs with an icy bite which is invigorating. There are no clouds in the sky, which means the conditions are perfect for the match.
An electric buzz sits over the stadium, and the enthusiasm bleeds out from every student as Hermione passes them in her ascent to the seat her friends have been saving for her. By the time she joins them, goosebumps have erupted over her skin.
"I can't believe how crazy everyone is going. This is absurd," Hermione says as she settles next to Luna, whose giant lion hat roars in response.
Neville grimaces. "Well, it was such a rubbish season last year, what with Umbridge banning everyone left, right and centre. We were lucky we won the cup."
"Tell me about it."
The group fall into a lengthy discussion about the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. Listing all her faults is one of their favourite topics. She was awful. During her short tenure, Umbridge banned most after-school clubs and any practice of magic during class time, forcing Harry and Hermione to open a secret Defence Against the Dark Arts group. Although they were not at risk of attack, the only way to learn their defensive hexes in preparation for their O.W.L exams was to practice them on others.
Neville and Luna had been two of the group's most active members.
They haven't been able to meet yet this year, finding their N.E.W.T level workloads far too full for any additional extracurricular activities. But the bonds formed in defiance of Umbridge are prevalent, even now. Hermione finds herself grateful for having a wider circle of friends. It would be no fun sitting up here in the stands with only Tonks for company, no matter how much she enjoys spending time with her protector.
A voice sounds out around the stadium, only audible over the crowd's roar thanks to the use of a Sonorous charm. Hermione glances over to the commentary box, dismay filling her stomach as she catches a glimpse of Zacharias Smith sitting there with his wand pointing at his throat.
Oh no.
Hermione and her friends have never gotten on with Zacharias, even if he is a member of their secret D.A.D.A group. He's the most un-Hufflepuff-like Puff the trio have ever met. Since their first encounter with him, his cynicism and insolence have gotten on their nerves, and it doesn't help that he plays Chaser for his house team, too.
"Welcome, everybody, to the opening game of the Hogwarts 96 97 season. Today we will see the current House Cup holders, Gryffindor, take on the fierce competitors, Slytherin. Let's find out who's flying today."
Zacharias introduces the Slytherin team first, their names almost pointless as unrecognisable blurs zoom past the stands in flashes of green and silver. Only one of them slows enough to catch her attention—Draco Malfoy is still playing in the Seeker position, despite his lack of skill or ability. He sneers and makes a rude gesture at Hermione as he flies past her.
One hex is all it would take to knock him off his broom. But Hermione learnt her lesson after her detention with Professor McGonagall last week, and as she was leaving, Hermione promised her Head of House she'd try her best not to lose her temper like that again.
Plus, she refuses to do any more physical harm to her peers, even if they deserve it.
She's soon distracted by Harry's name ringing in her ears. Hermione jumps to her feet, her heart skipping an excited beat as she yearns to get a glimpse of Ron in his Quidditch gear. The wait is long, and for a moment, she worries Zacharias might have forgotten to call out all of the players.
"...And Ron Weasley, who I'm surprised to see back on the team after a shoddy performance last year. I guess being best mates with the Captain has its benefits."
Ron emerges last from the changing rooms, taking two laps of the pitch with the rest of the team before settling in front of his goalposts. Jeers and boos sound out from the Slytherin end of the stadium, and a note from a horn reverberates before the singing starts. The first few words are enough to make Hermione's blood boil.
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Fists clenched at her sides, she turns her attention away from the snakes and back to Ron. Either he hasn't heard the words, or he's stopped letting them get to him as a huge smile covers his face.
"We need to do something to shut them up," Hermione mumbles to herself as she considers whether she can perform a silencing charm big enough to quiet a hundred or so students.
But she forgets who she's sat next to. Luna climbs to her feet, jostling Hermione in the process, and turns around to face the other Gryffindors in the stand.
"Come on everyone, you know what you need to do."
She counts the crowd in, and the words sing out louder than the Slytherins, bolstered by the number of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who have chosen to support Gryffindor today.
Weasley can save anything,
He never leaves a single ring,
That's why Gryffindors all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Another check on Ron shows Hermione he has heard their song. He sits high above the pitch, conducting their efforts with a gleeful look on his face. She laughs and shakes her head at him, even though he can't see her from his perch, before joining in with the second verse.
Madam Hooch blows the whistle signalling the beginning of the game, and Hermione tears her attention away from Ron. The singing from both ends dies, replaced by a low murmur as Ginny wins the ball toss with ease. The Gryffindor Chasers pass it between themselves as they zoom towards the goals, but Urquhart intercepts it before they can attempt to score.
The Slytherin Captain is a fast flyer. He weaves past the other players and bludgers without flinching, aiming towards his destination.
"Here comes Slytherin's first attempt on a goal," Smith commentates, his voice building with excitement.
Hermione's eyes shoot to Ron, who lies low on his broom, his sight fixed on the Chaser. Urquhart leaves it to the last moment before throwing the Quaffle at the posts. Her heart in her throat, Hermione twists the end of the scarf in her hands as she wills Ron to move quickly enough to catch it. He stretches his fingers out, and it looks like he might not reach it. Just before the ball slips past him and into the hoop, Ron clutches hold of it and pulls it to his chest.
The Gryffindors explode with enthusiasm as Ron throws the ball back to Ginny, a relieved look on his face. Hermione's lungs burn, and she pulls in a massive gasp of air. In all the tension of the potential first goal, she had forgotten to breathe.
As the game continues, Hermione hardly takes her eyes off Ron. Every swoop of his broom flips her stomach, and she crosses all her fingers every time someone takes a shot. But he flies like he's taken Felix Felicis, forcing the Slytherin Chasers to pull out all of their strategies to try and score. They even attempt to time some of their shots with some well-directed bludgers in an attempt to distract him.
The Quaffle is Ron's every single time, his long fingers closing around the red ball with ease before he fires it back to Ginny, Dean, or Demelza, who are always waiting for him. The Gryffindors fly like a pack of Abraxans, and it's clear they've been working hard to play like a professional team.
"And that's the sixth Gryffindor goal of the game," Zacharias drones after half an hour has passed, misery filling his voice. It's clear he's rooting for the Slytherins today. "Although, I'm not sure why they're doing so well, considering they have Coote and Peakes for Beaters. I guess at least someone other than a Weasley got onto the team."
⁂
It's well past lunchtime before Harry grasps hold of the Snitch, only slightly beating Malfoy to it and securing the win for the Gryffindor team. The cheers from the fans drown out the final whistle as they pour onto the pitch to celebrate.
Hermione can't wipe the smile from her face. But, although she's ecstatic the team has won, the Snitches fluttering in her stomach double their efforts to make her sick from nerves. She regrets the bacon sandwich she had for breakfast.
Her next mission has to go well. Ron is in a tremendous mood, and although she doesn't believe in rubbish like fate, all the stars are aligning to allow her the chance to win his heart. And with the crowd of students celebrating with the team, she has time to get back to the common room and freshen up, perhaps with the help of Madam Malkin's beautification charms. She has to review her list one last time, too, so she can remember all of it when she speaks to Ron.
The plan is simple. Allow the team time to get around the group of Gryffindors and receive all their congratulations. And maybe some food. There's no way she can speak to Ron if he has an empty stomach. Once she's sure he's sated, Hermione will invite him out for a walk, claiming she needs some fresh air or something.
It's going to go well. The way he smiled at her this morning fills her with confidence she's never experienced before, especially around boys. Despite the nerves churning away in her stomach, she finds herself looking forward to the moment she finally lands Ron Weasley.
"Are we heading back to the common room?" Yet again, Tonks' voice cuts through Hermione's thoughts. "Or are you too busy daydreaming about a certain Gryffindor Keeper?"
Hermione laughs. Nothing can spoil her great mood this afternoon. "I was not!"
"Sure, whatever you say. Now come on! I heard Seamus Finnegan say something about a party!"
"Are you even allowed to join in? Surely you should be stationed outside the common room, guarding us."
"Nope, I only guard you. Anyway, there has to be some benefit of being forced to sit with the Gryffindors today."
"Fine." Hermione lets out a dramatic sigh. "I'll allow it this time."
"You're so kind."
They wait until the remaining students have emptied the stands and, after Tonks has a chance to check it's safe, the pair leave arm in arm, chatting excitedly about the game. Hermione doesn't even like Quidditch, yet the results have turned her into the biggest fan.
⁂
It takes a while for Hermione to reach the common room. As soon as she steps foot inside the Entrance Hall, a jubilant Professor McGonagall approaches her and asks her to resolve a few Prefect scheduling issues. The princess doesn't know why it couldn't wait until the school week, but she was assigned the role for a reason and sorts the problem out dutifully.
By the time they get to Gryffindor Tower, the party is in full swing, or so it seems from the amount of noise pouring out of the closed portrait hole.
Her palms grow sweaty as she imagines what's waiting inside the common. Maybe she'll throw caution to the wind, throw herself into Ron's arms and snog him senseless. She doesn't like public displays of affection, but perhaps the spontaneousness will grab his attention and win him over.
"Quid Agis," Hermione tells the Fat Lady.
The portrait raises her glass in cheers. "Thrilled, Princess Hermione. I heard about the win. Fortunately, Sir Cadogan kept Vera updated. The monks on the third floor could see a corner of the pitch through an open window. Oh, I wish I could have come. I would have loved to have watched it in real life."
Unable to control her impatience, Hermione taps her foot against the stone floor. The Fat Lady frowns before remembering her purpose. "Oh! Sorry! I forget not everyone is after a natter. When is Mr Doge due to be on shift tonight, Nymphadora?"
"Seven," Tonks snaps before pushing Hermione towards the opening. Once they're inside the common room, she continues. "Honestly, that woman. I'm in my right mind to tell McGonagall the portrait isn't doing her job properly. She's supposed to take the password and open, nothing more, but she's more determined to gossip with everyone than work."
"I guess life stuck to a wall must get boring after a while."
A wall of noise and heat hits them, putting a stop to their conversation. Hermione takes a deep breath, allowing the strong smell of butterbeer to fill her nostrils. The common room reeks of it, but there's also an undertone of something stronger, too, maybe Firewhiskey.
Tonks abandons her and hurries over to the table full of food. How did Seamus get hold of the feast? Hermione's sure the house-elves were involved, in some shape or form. It's not their job. She wouldn't be surprised if Seamus is to blame for the alcohol as well. She should hunt him down and confiscate it all, but not right now. Hermione has bigger mermaids to fry.
Instead, her eyes sweep over the bustling room, searching for Ron's bright fiery hair. It doesn't take long to find him—he's standing in the noisiest corner of the room with the rest of the team.
Hermione's eyes connect with his over the sea of students, and the massive grin on his face grows bigger, mirroring the look he gave her this morning. It sends her pulse racing. Ron waves at her, and she sends a greeting back at him with a trembling hand. Sweat saturates her palms.
Get a grip, Hermione. You can do this. You're the brightest witch of your age. Walk over there, start a conversation and take it from there.
The yearning to be standing back next to Ron is too much for her to resist any longer, so Hermione makes her way through the room. Her newfound popularity threatens to derail her mission as students stop to ask questions or get her opinion on the game. She tries her best to respond without being drawn into conversation with them. Hermione has to get to her destination before she loses her nerve.
Emerging from the crowd at Harry's elbow, Hermione gives him a quick hug before turning towards Ron. His blue eyes light up as he spots her again. Putting an end to his conversation with Demelza, he turns more towards Hermione and shifts closer to her.
This is it.
Hermione takes one more step towards him, preparing the words she's been practising all day. As she opens her mouth, a ball of blonde curls rushes past her, catching Hermione's shoulder in the process and almost knocking her over.
The next moments happen in slow motion as if someone has cast Impedimenta over everyone. At the same time, a Cruciatus hits Hermione straight in the heart and radiates through her entire body. Lavender throws herself at Ron, wrapping her arms around his neck before landing a hard kiss against his lips. She snogs him deeply as if her life depends on it, and Hermione turns her back on them, unable to watch any more of Lavender's public display of affection. If she does, Hermione might die.
No.
She gasps for air as she pushes her way blindly back through the crowd. How could this happen? Lavender has pulled Hermione's heart out and stomped all over it with her designer trainers. Like an Avada Kedavra shot directly at her, her soul leaves her body, and all she feels is despair. This must be what it's like when a Dementor kisses someone.
Everything Hermione hoped for the evening crumbles around her. Hot tears fill her eyes. How could she be this stupid? Ron never loved her. He probably wasn't even smiling at her across the common room. Lavender must have been standing right behind her.
Watching him kiss another girl is the worst thing that could ever happen to Hermione. And of course, it had to be stupid Lavender, the one girl who constantly makes Hermione's life difficult.
It's not fair.
Blurred faces appear in front of her. She can see their frowns and looks of concern but can't tell one person from the other. Without telling Tonks she's leaving, Hermione yanks open the portrait hole and almost trips over her feet as she leaves the room. She needs a quiet corner or an empty classroom to suffer her heartbreak in peace.
Otherwise, she knows The Daily Prophet will plaster her devastation all over their front pages.
⁂
Cormac McLaggen is the first to find her a couple of hours after escaping from Gryffindor Tower. Hermione tried her hardest to get into the Room of Requirement and back to the sanctuary she'd created a few weeks ago, but she couldn't organise her racing thoughts enough to ask the room what she needed. So she curled up behind a tapestry featuring tap-dancing trolls on the fifth floor.
"Go away, Cormac." Hermione sniffs as she wipes her eyes. "I want to be alone."
He peers at her, his face beet red. "Guess you saw the farce in the common room too, huh? Almost hexed Weasley. What a wanker. Could have sworn you two were together." Hermione ignores the shot of pain in her heart and turns away from Cormac. "Guess I was wrong. First the idiot takes my spot on the team, and now my girlfriend. Actually, forget hexing, he deserves a fucking punch."
Maybe she should argue back and defend Ron. It's what any good friend will do, but Hermione finds she hasn't got the energy for it. Why should she, when he broke her heart in front of the entire Gryffindor house?
"Yeah, well." She sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve before finally risking a glance at Cormac. "I hate to tell you, but Lavender has had her eye on Ron for a long time."
A cloud of anger passes over his face, but he shakes it away. What comes next is a sinister sneer which morphs quickly into a smile. Hermione passes it off as him trying to be friendly. It must be hard for him to be nice—the two of them have been enemies for so long.
To her surprise, Cormac holds his hand out for her. After studying it for a moment, she decides to take it, albeit hesitantly and allows him to pull her to her feet.
"Now, what's a princess like you hiding here by yourself? Nobody comes down here."
"Exactly. I didn't want to be found."
His thumb caresses the back of her hand as they talk, and she notices with a heaving sob that no tingles or electricity spreads down her arm at his touch. It's nothing compared to the reaction in her body Ron creates.
"What if I told you there was somewhere better we could celebrate tonight? Would you be up for it?"
Hermione weighs his offer in her head, scrambling together a list of pros and cons. Her heartbreak blinds her, as she can't come up with any points for either. A numbness has sunk over her. But she does decide that she's fed up with trying to please everyone else, and she no longer wants to get along or do what everyone expects from her. There are no rewards for being a nice girl or a good friend in this world.
And I'm done with being a princess, too.
Despite her bravado, a small amount of hesitance tugs at the deepest part of her conscience. Hermione is away from the common room alone and has been for at least an hour now, without Tonks. Surely the Auror has noticed Hermione is missing?
Footsteps bounce down the corridor towards them, disturbing Cormac and Hermione's conversation. Ron appears out of the darkness, his lit wand held high above his head. As he lowers it, she spots relief passing over his face.
"There you are, Hermione. We've been looking everywhere for you."
When she looks at him, all she can see is Lavender's lips locked with his. Where is the witch, anyway? Has Ron come looking for Hermione alone to tell her that he and Lav are now together? Breaking her heart in private will do nothing to heal the betrayal coursing through Hermione's veins.
"You must have been searching real hard," she says, unsurprised by the bitter tone in her voice. Venom and hatred drip from every inch of her. "I've been here for hours. And Cormac found me easily enough."
"Seriously, I must have walked down every corridor. This is my last one before…"
His words fizzle out as Cormac steps in front of Hermione, taking an almost protective stance. "She's fine, leave her alone."
Fury ignites in Hermione's belly as her fingers itch for her wand. It's not just Ron's appearance that causes it. She's not a damsel in distress, and she doesn't need rescuing, especially not by Cormac McLaggen.
"Haven't you got someone else to look after now?" She moves next to Cormac and keeps eye contact with Ron as her fingers loop around her wand, drawing it from her pocket. "You were a little…busy…earlier."
"What?"
Confusion floods Ron's face, but it does nothing to quell her anger. Sliding her arm through Cormac's, Hermione leans into his broad chest and pastes a soppy smile on her face. "Well, we're done here, aren't we, Cormie?" Every word spilling out of her mouth makes her nausea grow, but she pushes on, hell-bent on revenge. "Didn't you say you had somewhere more fun for us to go?"
For all his stupidity, Cormac catches on quickly. A wide grin spreads across his face as he squeezes Hermione tighter to him. Ron's bewilderment morphs into pain, giving her a tiny bit of satisfaction.
But it's not enough.
"Yes, a proper party. None of this kid's stuff. Shall we go?"
She holds Ron's gaze as she replies, "Yes, let's get out of here."
He squirms, but Hermione doesn't break eye contact with him, even as Cormac leads her down the corridor. Every inch of her screams to pull away, to throw herself at Ron's feet and plead with him. He's picked the wrong girl. He should be with Hermione, not Lavender. But she refuses to put herself through it over a man who doesn't feel the same way about her. Ron probably doesn't even care that Hermione is leaving with Cormac.
Ron's mouth opens and closes, but he doesn't manage to squeeze any words out as Hermione passes him. The witch keeps her distance, knowing the tug of attraction will be too hard to ignore the closer she gets to him. Because even though he broke her heart, she still fancies the idiot. The thought brings fresh tears to her eyes.
When she gets to the end of the corridor, Ron shouts, "You can't seriously be leaving with him?"
Hermione pulls her arm out of Cormac's grasp and spins around to face Ron, her heart pounding furiously in her chest. She lifts her wand and points it at her best friend.
"Why not? At least he's interested in spending time with me. Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
Ron's face burns bright red, and his hands clench at his sides. He opens his mouth once, twice, three times as if he's fighting his reply. Finally, he calls, "Well, maybe I'll go back to Lav, then. At least she's not afraid of snogging someone. And she's a good kisser, just ask your new friend."
His words are the twigs that snap the Bowtruckle's back. Hermione channels all her fury down her wand arm as she screams, "Oppugno!"
Bright yellow birds explode from her wand and zoom towards Ron. They divebomb him, and he throws his arms up in the air to protect himself as over and over again, the birds attempt to peck at his skin.
"Hermione, gerremoff! Ow!"
But she doesn't stop the spell. Instead, she loops her arm back into Cormac's and gives him a huge smile. "Are we leaving then?"
Cormac, whose face has turned pale, nods, and the couple carry on their way. Heartache and yearning threaten to swallow Hermione whole as she drifts even further away from her best friend, and this time, she knows there'll be no going back.
Ron is with Lavender now, and she's left with Cormac. Plus, she's confident that attacking Ron with rabid magical birds has signed the death note on the relationship.
Probably for good.