A Turnaround Dance, A Turnaround Relationship
"C'mon Hermione, it won't be so bad", insisted Ron.
"I didn't say it was going to be bad!" Cried Hermione.
"Than why won't you do it?" Shouted back her companion.
"Because, overall, they are showing that on a regular basis men dominate in our society, since when woman take the upper hand it is considered unusual!" Hermione shrieked.
"Maybe, if I knew what that meant, I would be able to see your argument!" Countered Ron.
"It means that I don't agree with the whole idea!" Hermione stomped off.
Ron was bewildered, left standing there.
"What was that all about?" Inquired Harry, who had just appeared by his side.
"She won't go!" Ron vented.
"Go-where, Ron?" Questioned Harry.
"Oh-you wouldn't know. I guess you don't get much company down in the hospital wing, huh? Well, there is a dance coming up." Explained Ron.
Harry nodded; he had been in the hospital wing for the past few nights after taking a nasty fall off his Firebolt. The Firebolt had remained intact, and Harry had caught the Golden Snitch, but had badly damaged his arms and legs in the process.
"And it's a turnaround dance, so girls have to ask guys", Ron continued.
"I'm guessing you told Hermione to take you so you wouldn't look bad, but she thinks that turnaround dances show that chicks never think for themselves and won't instigate a date, and she won't go with you." Finished Harry for him.
"Yes", breathed Ron.
Harry knew Ron had been quite taken with Hermione for some time now, and inviting her to invite him to the ball must have been a big step. Ron was probably crushed.
"Ron, it's not you, she just does not want to be the average girl who giggles and squeals about guys just because of some silly dance. She's better than that."
Ron hardly looked comforted.
"Yes, it is. I am just the freckled, tall, gangly kid with a large nose who will never get a girlfriend, let alone someone like Hermione!"
"That's not true, Ron! I told you-Ron? Ron, come back!" Harry yelled after his friend, who had left in a hurry. Harry exhaled deeply and reluctantly went to search for Hermione. He found her in the library, which surprised no one.
"Hermione." He began.
Hermione had her head down, sitting at one of the many tables in the cavernous library. She looked up, and much to Harry's bewilderment, there were tears streaked down her cheeks. He gasped in amazement and instantly wondered what was wrong.
"Hermione, don't be upset." Harry said gently.
Hermione jumped up and ran from the room. Harry could hear her crying. Instantaneously he, too, sprang from his seat but thought better of it. Hermione obviously needed to be by herself now. Slowly Harry lowered himself back down. He needn't bother her. Yet Harry still wanted to go somewhere-anywhere. He decided upon The Golden Oak. The Golden Oak is a large tree in the Hogwarts Grounds, which is forever glistening as though sprinkled with crystal dew and always blooming huge, beautiful pink lurid flowers. Several an afternoon Harry had spent sitting lazily on one of its top branches. He was securely hidden, and the view was incredible. He could see all over the Hogwarts grounds. He found it quite calming for when he had to think, and just than think he did.
Once reaching the immerse tree, he used a simple spell to get on top of it. He sucked in the air up there, as it was much crisper and cooler, sweeter than that below. As if on command, his mind cleared. Why was she so disapproving to Ron? He wondered. And, furthermore, Why was she so upset? Harry was perplexed. His best friend asked his other best friend to a Turnaround Dance and she blew up in his face. He was crushed, and she was crying. None of it made any sense. Harry began to ponder all of the truth spells he knew, to see if he could perform any to make them tell him what, exactly, was going on. But he stopped, because he realized, if he were in such a position, he would not want to tell anyone his innermost thoughts. How, than? How could he make Hermione confess her feelings without hurting Ron? How could he get Ron to admit his emotions without hurting Hermione? It seemed impossible. And, indeed, it nearly was. However, if Harry had come upon a specific explanation earlier on, he would have certainly solved the enigma by now.
Hermione fled to the only other place she knew she could find solitude. She had come across it early on in the year, and now often used it when she had to sort things out. Only she knew that she wasn't always going to the library for comfort. Here she was in complete silence, with only her and her surroundings. She dare not let the exact spot of her 'other library' be found out. More tears leaked their way out of her eyes. So confused. Who to trust? Who to believe? No answer came to her, just as none had come to Harry. How could she have run out on him like that? It wasn't as though she was angry with him. Quite the contrary. And Ron-oh, Ron. He had asked her to the dance, and what had she done? Screamed at him! Yet, he had only asked her so he wouldn't look bad. Or had he? Hermione couldn't understand his logic, or Harry's. If guys have logic, that is. Hermione tried to shift through her thoughts, but she found it impossible
"ARGH!" She shouted aloud. And just a few feet from her, hidden from view, a certain black-haired, green-eyed someone heard her.
Harry jumped at the noise, hitting his head on the branch above him. He barely felt it, though, as just then he recognized the voice.
"Hermione?" He called out cautiously.
"Harry?" She called back, just as hesitant.
"What are you doing here?" Asked a very puzzled Harry.
"What are you doing here?" Retorted Hermione.
"Just sitting-and you?" Replied Harry, his tone softening.
Hermione nodded, than remembered Harry couldn't see her, so she said, "Basically the same."
Harry felt a surge of relief-he thought Hermione was plotting to kill someone or something.
"Why did you run out like that?" Interrogated Harry innocently.
"I-I Harry, I have to tell this to you to your face."
Hermione twisted around so that she was sitting in front of Harry. Her deep copper eyes parallel with his famous sparkling green ones, she spoke. "Harry-I love you." She was surprised at how easily the words had come out. I love you. Just like that. She blinked slowly, still not processing the fact that she had finally told him. The truth-as Albus Dumbledore put it, "A beautiful and terrible thing." She became lost in thought (as she often did) and was not aware that Harry was gazing at her in an almost affectionate way.
"Hermione." It was not a realization, it was not a thoughtful expression. It was a statement. Harry considered her, somehow not shocked by her words. It seemed natural to him. Some invisible force galvanized him into his next action. He leaned forward, with the catlike grace one needed to use on a tree branch, and kissed Hermione. It was short, and sweet, and perfect. There was an incredible amount of feeling in it, yes, passion and mystery and the tiniest hint of-was it remorse? -snowballed into one.
When it ended, neither spoke. They stared into each other's faces, each one's expression thoughtful. Hermione knew, with all of her heart that she loved Harry. And, undoubtedly, that he loved her back. And that Ron-how sorry she was to admit it! –had true feelings for Hermione as well. They had a silent agreement, an understanding. They were in love, they were a couple, and they were meant for each other. Yet their best friend was in love with Hermione too. They both valued Ron's company too much to let him know about this just now.
"Harry, Ron." Hermione pointed out, though she was certain they both already had been thinking of him. Hermione and Harry may be soul mates, but Ron was still as close to them as they were to each other. How to tell him? How to break his heart?