CHAPTER EIGHT
The next day came in a flash. Hermione went to the hospital wing early Monday morning to check on Harry.
"He'll be fine in about two weeks," said Madam Pomfrey. Harry was still asleep.
"TWO weeks?!" Hermione echoed.
"Yes, two weeks, Miss Granger," said Madam Pomfrey sternly.
"But yesterday you told us that Harry'd be staying for only a WEEK!" protested Hermione.
"That was just an estimate," replied Madam Pomfrey. "All the boy needs is plenty of rest. I suggest you come back next week. He'll be OK by then, I suppose."
Hermione nodded and quickly left the infirmary. She walked down the staircases towards the Great Hall to have breakfast. There weren't many people awake early Sunday morning, but Hermione saw Ron was already there.
"Good morning!" greeted Ron cheerfully, gesturing towards the seat next to him. "C'mere, sit down."
Hermione gave Ron a small smile as thanks and sat down. She started to reach for the toast.
"Here you go," said Ron, placing the plate of toast next to Hermione's empty plate. "What would you like with that, jam or butter?"
"Um... I'd like some butter, please," said Hermione in a small voice.
"Here you go," said Ron, handing Hermione a block of butter and a bread knife.
"Thanks, Ron," she said as she started buttering her toast.
"Sure, no problem," replied Ron. He took a large bite out of his toast and started chewing on it heartily. "So," he began after swallowing the bite, "you went to the infirmary this morning?"
Hermione nodded.
"How's Harry?"
"I think he's OK," she said. "Madam Pomfrey says all he needs is rest. He may be staying there for two weeks."
"Excellent!" Ron breathed.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Hermione.
"Huh? Oh... nothing..." stuttered Ron. He suddenly became very interested in chewing his food and in offering Hermione more.
"No thanks, Ron," said Hermione. "I'm really stuffed already!"
"OK," said Ron, shrugging. He looked at his watch. "Hey, c'mon, we've got to get to Charms," he said as he pulled Hermione to her feet.
"Hey! Wait!" exclaimed Hermione as she took one last gulp of pumpkin juice from her goblet. "I'm coming!"
Hermione dashed along the corridors to catch up with Ron, who was humming and smiling to himself as he walked briskly along the corridors.
"Wait..." said a breathless Hermione, clutching Ron's shoulder for support.
"Why are you so out of breath?" asked Ron, raising an eyebrow. He was wearing, strangely, a VERY dazzling smile.
"Because," Hermione began, "you just forced me... to run... through those EXTREMELY long corridors. That's why."
"Oh, DID I?" asked Ron quite sarcastically. His smile never left his face. "Oh, I'm SO sorry, Hermione. C'mon, lemme help you, you POOR LITTLE GIRL. You get tired easily, don't you? C'mere…"
"Shut up!" exclaimed Hermione. She knew Ron was being funny, and she knew she just had to play along.
"C'mon," said Ron, motioning for Hermione to follow him. "We'll be late for Charms." He said this more seriously this time, but he was still smiling.
All throughout the day, Ron's smile was plastered on his face. Hermione knew this was genuine, not a fake smile. 'But why in the world is he smiling?' she wondered to herself.
'Excellent,' thought Ron. 'Harry's away. Hermione'll be mine, all mine.'
He couldn't explain why he feeling like this. He should feel at least a LITTLE bit sorry, right? After all, Harry IS his best friend.
But ever since the day after he and Harry had fought over Hermione, that day they saw each other in the library, he saw a certain light in Hermione's eyes. A light of love slowly shining. And that love, he knew, was not for Harry. It was intended for him, Ron Weasley. And he knew that Hermione was just too scared to let him know, just as he was scared to let her know her feelings for her. Hermione was scared to leave Harry alone.
Night had already fallen. Ron was sitting by the fireplace, rubbing his hands together. The cold was really getting to him, as well as to everyone else. Everywhere he looked, people were wearing extremely thick sweaters, and, in Wood and Angelina's case, snuggling together in a corner, trying to keep each other warm.
Ron envied Wood and Angelina. He had been picturing for a long time that he and Hermione would be like that – hugging each other, cuddling up in one corner, being envied by other people, especially by Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. No one in the school had ever thought that the couple could be so sweet to each other while they were really mean and cruel to other people, especially to Harry, Ron and Hermione.
Ron had decided. He couldn't let fear of rejection overpower him once more. He WOULDN'T allow it to happen. He had lost Hermione before, and he simply would not allow it to happen once more.
'Tomorrow,' Ron thought. 'Tomorrow's the right time.'
'Tomorrow I tell Hermione.'
The next day came in a flash. Hermione went to the hospital wing early Monday morning to check on Harry.
"He'll be fine in about two weeks," said Madam Pomfrey. Harry was still asleep.
"TWO weeks?!" Hermione echoed.
"Yes, two weeks, Miss Granger," said Madam Pomfrey sternly.
"But yesterday you told us that Harry'd be staying for only a WEEK!" protested Hermione.
"That was just an estimate," replied Madam Pomfrey. "All the boy needs is plenty of rest. I suggest you come back next week. He'll be OK by then, I suppose."
Hermione nodded and quickly left the infirmary. She walked down the staircases towards the Great Hall to have breakfast. There weren't many people awake early Sunday morning, but Hermione saw Ron was already there.
"Good morning!" greeted Ron cheerfully, gesturing towards the seat next to him. "C'mere, sit down."
Hermione gave Ron a small smile as thanks and sat down. She started to reach for the toast.
"Here you go," said Ron, placing the plate of toast next to Hermione's empty plate. "What would you like with that, jam or butter?"
"Um... I'd like some butter, please," said Hermione in a small voice.
"Here you go," said Ron, handing Hermione a block of butter and a bread knife.
"Thanks, Ron," she said as she started buttering her toast.
"Sure, no problem," replied Ron. He took a large bite out of his toast and started chewing on it heartily. "So," he began after swallowing the bite, "you went to the infirmary this morning?"
Hermione nodded.
"How's Harry?"
"I think he's OK," she said. "Madam Pomfrey says all he needs is rest. He may be staying there for two weeks."
"Excellent!" Ron breathed.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Hermione.
"Huh? Oh... nothing..." stuttered Ron. He suddenly became very interested in chewing his food and in offering Hermione more.
"No thanks, Ron," said Hermione. "I'm really stuffed already!"
"OK," said Ron, shrugging. He looked at his watch. "Hey, c'mon, we've got to get to Charms," he said as he pulled Hermione to her feet.
"Hey! Wait!" exclaimed Hermione as she took one last gulp of pumpkin juice from her goblet. "I'm coming!"
Hermione dashed along the corridors to catch up with Ron, who was humming and smiling to himself as he walked briskly along the corridors.
"Wait..." said a breathless Hermione, clutching Ron's shoulder for support.
"Why are you so out of breath?" asked Ron, raising an eyebrow. He was wearing, strangely, a VERY dazzling smile.
"Because," Hermione began, "you just forced me... to run... through those EXTREMELY long corridors. That's why."
"Oh, DID I?" asked Ron quite sarcastically. His smile never left his face. "Oh, I'm SO sorry, Hermione. C'mon, lemme help you, you POOR LITTLE GIRL. You get tired easily, don't you? C'mere…"
"Shut up!" exclaimed Hermione. She knew Ron was being funny, and she knew she just had to play along.
"C'mon," said Ron, motioning for Hermione to follow him. "We'll be late for Charms." He said this more seriously this time, but he was still smiling.
All throughout the day, Ron's smile was plastered on his face. Hermione knew this was genuine, not a fake smile. 'But why in the world is he smiling?' she wondered to herself.
'Excellent,' thought Ron. 'Harry's away. Hermione'll be mine, all mine.'
He couldn't explain why he feeling like this. He should feel at least a LITTLE bit sorry, right? After all, Harry IS his best friend.
But ever since the day after he and Harry had fought over Hermione, that day they saw each other in the library, he saw a certain light in Hermione's eyes. A light of love slowly shining. And that love, he knew, was not for Harry. It was intended for him, Ron Weasley. And he knew that Hermione was just too scared to let him know, just as he was scared to let her know her feelings for her. Hermione was scared to leave Harry alone.
Night had already fallen. Ron was sitting by the fireplace, rubbing his hands together. The cold was really getting to him, as well as to everyone else. Everywhere he looked, people were wearing extremely thick sweaters, and, in Wood and Angelina's case, snuggling together in a corner, trying to keep each other warm.
Ron envied Wood and Angelina. He had been picturing for a long time that he and Hermione would be like that – hugging each other, cuddling up in one corner, being envied by other people, especially by Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. No one in the school had ever thought that the couple could be so sweet to each other while they were really mean and cruel to other people, especially to Harry, Ron and Hermione.
Ron had decided. He couldn't let fear of rejection overpower him once more. He WOULDN'T allow it to happen. He had lost Hermione before, and he simply would not allow it to happen once more.
'Tomorrow,' Ron thought. 'Tomorrow's the right time.'
'Tomorrow I tell Hermione.'