A Broken Romance
[With a little Hogwarts mixed in]
Chapter Five
Sitting in Charms, Ron found himself guiltily thinking of Hermione. Professor Flitwick had given them the period to work on their Invisibility Spell, trying to make black beetles disappear for a length of time and then reappear again. He put his tongue between his teeth, and, concentrating on the spell and trying not to think about Hermione (though the latter had become increasingly more difficult); he pointed his wand and said, "Invisiperio!" For a second the beetle became transparent, and just when Ron thought he had finally mastered the charm, it came back again, looking somehow even bolder and blacker than before. He groaned. Hermione would be able to help him figure this out. She would have figured it out herself in under a minute, probably thinking of using it on Draco Malfoy. She probably could have done it, too. But Ron forced himself to let his thoughts wander to her. He would have dearly liked to see Draco disappear forever, but he knew wishing it would happen wouldn't do anything about it. So, deflated, he went back to his beetle. Its bold black armor seemed to shine with a light of its own. Hermione's hair used to shine like that. Ron thought without realizing it. But it was true. Hermione's hair had been so thick, glossy and shiny. Ron had loved to run his fingers through it when they were making out. Stop, stop, stop, stop! He yelled to himself, inside his own head. He had to stop thinking of her! Could he…could he make up with her? Could he let it go that she had recently been in love with his BEST friend and had only gone with him to make up for her loss? No! No, he couldn't. He had his pride, too! Of course…that was why, not thirty seconds after the bell had rung to leave Charms, Ron was bolting to Professor Vector's room-Arithmancy, where Hermione would just be departing. Panting, he swooped into the dusty classroom. It was decidedly vacant. No Hermione, no Professor Vector…no, they had to be there! Ron had memorized Hermione's schedule and, right now, she-and the rest of her class-should be scrambling towards the door. He checked one last time to make sure no one was there, a useless effort, before running to lunch. He hadn't gone three steps before smacking into a body. He fell backwards instantaneously, dazed, with the wind knocked out of him. A hand reached down to help him up, and he took it graciously. Clutching at his side, he focused on the stranger. Harry stood before him; looking concerned and-there was no Cho next to him. Ron blinked excessively. When his vision cleared, the image in front of him hadn't changed. He was delirious. He had to be. Harry, without Cho? That hadn't happened for what must've been weeks. Ron glanced away to clear his head, than stared unbelievingly at Harry. Hallucinations! Ron was positive now; Harry-and Harry alone-was blocking his path. "W-where's Cho?" Ron blurted out. He hadn't spoken to Harry in days and the first words of out his were, (in Ron's mind) 'Where the f*** is your girlfriend?' Great friend, huh? Harry numbly shook his head, saying nothing. "What happened?" Ron pressed. Harry's expression was genuinely discouraged, an emotion Ron had hardly ever seen from Harry. Harry licked dry lips as though he hadn't said a word in hours, cleared his throat, and quietly replied. "She dumped me." Ron was in dismay. A thousand questions flew to his brain, fogging it spectacularly. He opened his mouth numerous times, finally bursting with all the things he had to know, and sentences poured from him. "Why? Where is she? How do you know she didn't-how come you didn't-for who?" Ron suppressed his questions, provisionally. Harry didn't respond. He turned his back to Ron sluggishly, shrugging only enough so that Ron could make out the scanty motion. Ron desperately desired further answers. He struggled against the flow of students like a salmon swimming upriver, unable to trail Harry. Harry, whom had so effortlessly proceeded abreast classmates far from Ron, was gone now-without a clue for Ron to pick up and track. Ron was compelled to track towards lunch, this time blending with the rest of the hungry students. Hermione was sitting, isolated, at one lonely end of the Gryffindor Table. Ron yearned to sit by her, talk and fraternize with her like old times, but better judgment and over consciousness held him back. Halfway through his treacle pudding, Ron stood up unwillingly. His feet took him to Hermione as though he was being controlled and his mind couldn't decide his actions. She must have felt it unnecessary to look up, she was sure by his presence that it was Ron. He drew in breath, preparing himself to tell her. Seconds passed. Still, no sound from Ron. He gulped. "Hermione-Cho dumped Harry." It wasn't what he had meant to say. He was going to apologize to her (for what, storming out on her and saying cruel words? Hadn't she done just as much?) and ask if she would take him back. Instead, he turned into someone as hopeless as Parvati or Lavender, spreading gossip like a disease. Ron was so caught up in scolding himself mentally he barely caught Hermione's reaction to this piece of information. For a fleeting moment she was speechless, eyes wide with shock. Her whole expression was dumbfounded. Than, white as a sheet, she ran from the room, leaving her turkey sandwich unattended. Ron silently regarded her and, still following her retreating figure with his eyes, picked up the remnants of lunch with his peripheral vision and took a bite absentmindedly.
Hermione decided that she should have her ears checked. Cho. Dump Harry. It was unthinkable, a fervent hope and dream of hers, obviously, but had it actually come true? Could she let herself believe it? Cho and Harry had been inseparable until just recently. It struck Hermione, as she lay on her lavish bed in the Gryffindor Tower, that now Harry was available. On the menu. Decidedly like Ron, she had her choice. Had Harry not sought her out before Cho to take him to the ball? Hadn't she, not the prettiest (and most popular) Ravenclaw, Cho, been Harry's first choice? Could she not steal him now, while he was up for grabs, and keep him forever? She could have Harry. Metaphorically, but still the thought enlightened her. Harry wasn't tied down anymore. Hermione rushed toward the door of her dormitory and had just rested her hand on the doorknob when another idea came upon her. Cho-he would, invariably, not want any other girl, presumably until after he had recovered from the loss of her. If he did, Hermione knew he must have liked her for some time to ask her out, Harry was like that. She marveled at how well she knew Harry, and how Cho didn't. She had the advantage. Ron. It was one word, but it caused her to sit back down on her bed gently anyway. Ron-she knew him even better. Knew his touch, his smell and his feel. Knew that he would treat her like a queen. An enticing prospect. She had Harry on one side, whom she had loved for almost five years now, and Ron on the other-who had turned out to be the best boyfriend she could have possibly imagined. How could she decide? It was like choosing between Europe and America; they were both colossal and amazing in their own aspects. Hermione had reached a turning point. She had two choices, two paths to speculate and judge. Which was better? What a question! Tomato or tamahto, how should everyone be directed to say it? The decisions were parallels. Hermione, with great difficulty, lay down on her back; eagle spread (her thinking position) and pondered. Harry, or Ron. Ron, or Harry. She, for the first time in her entire life, did not know the answer to a problem. Which was problem in itself. They swung like pendulums through her mind. Harry-her crush (though crush was not the right word, it was too girly and fickle) or Ron-her ex? Swing, Harry. Swing, Ron. Back and forth, endless. Harry…Ron…Harry…Ron…