Chapter 9- Madame Rosmerta's Advice
In the few weeks that followed, Ron and Harry had yet to discover Hermione's reason of hurt. They talked to EVERYONE, including Ginny and Dean (who they know considered the prime source of information). Neither said a word.
"Harry," Ron said after a particularly tense grilling session with Dean, "Do you get the feeling he's not telling us everything?"
Harry sighed. "Ron, I KNOW he's not telling us everything, and I for one, don't blame him. To lie to us, he must have a pretty good reason. Making a promise to Hermione, like I'm almost positive he has, is a good enough reason for me. Now, he hinted that there was one person we hadn't asked yet, and who would tell us the answer. But the question is: who?"
"I know! We've asked EVERYONE! We asked first years, second years, third years, fourth years, fifth years, and sixth years. We've even asked other houses. Not a one knew the answer! Who could we possibly be leaving out?!"
"I don't know, Ron. I honestly don't know."
"Well, maybe there's someone at Hogsmeade who will know. We can ask them when we're there tomorrow."
Harry nodded, and dropped off to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dean was waiting for Hermione when she came downstairs to join him at Hogsmeade the next morning.
"Hermione, you look wonderful."
She giggled. "You say that every day."
He looked at his shoes. "That's 'cause it's always true."
Hermione blushed, as Harry looked jealously upon the situation.
Soon, though, she recovered. "Well, shall we go then?"
Dean nodded, and the two exited the common room. Harry hung around a few minutes more, as Ron staggered down the stairs, clearly just waking up.
"Come on, Ron. We can't find anyone to ask if we're not there, now let's go!"
The redhead nodded, and the two of them headed out towards the nearby village.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey there boys." Madame Rosmerta greeted them merrily from the door.
"Hey" was the half-hearted reply given to her by both Harry and Ron.
The waitress looked at them funny. "Alright you two, come sit down and tell me everything. I can almost guarantee you I have an answer."
Ron looked skeptical. "What makes you so sure?"
"Honey, I've been dealing with sorrows of drunkards since before you came to Hogwarts. You're troubles are nothing compared to theirs."
Harry nodded. "It's Hermione."
Madame Rosmerta looked aware. "I knew something was amiss when she came in with that Thomas boy…what's his name again?"
"Dean." Ron struggled to put the name out there.
"That's right! Do go on."
Harry started back up where he left off. "Well, she hasn't spoken to us since…I guess the third week of the summer holidays."
"That long? That was over 2 months ago! What did you guys do?"
Harry sighed. "We know what we did, and we don't wish to share, but we don't understand why she won't let us apologize."
Ron nodded his agreement. "We've sent her owls with letters of apology. She sends them back as confetti, with notes that say 'I told you I wouldn't read these.' We've talked to all her friends, even some people who've never even talked to her, and none of them know anything. Or if they do, they are very convincing liars. We've done EVERYTHING!"
Madame Rosmerta looked at them, unconvinced. "You honestly think you've tried everything? I can see your next plan of action as plain as your tankards of Butterbeer."
Harry looked shocked. "Really?"
The waitress sighed again. "Yes. Have you two tried talking to her, directly to her face?"
Harry thought for a moment. "Well…no. But do you really think she'd listen to us?"
At that point, Dean and Hermione entered the pub for the second time that day. Madame Rosmerta didn't waver a bit, except for the slight difference in volume. "If Hermione really wants to be your friend again, she'll listen."
Hermione froze for a second, but quickly recovered and sat down at a table in the corner. Dean went up to the bar and ordered two Butterbeers for himself and Hermione. Then he made his way over to the corner, and sat down next to her.
Hermione took a sip of the warm drink. After this sip, she relaxed noticeably. Dean slyly "stretched" and slipped his arm over the back of her chair. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, quietly sipping their butterbeer, until Dean broke it.
Nervously, he started speaking. "Hermione, there's something I've been wanting to do almost all day."
She looked startled. "I'm sorry! Have I been making things difficult for you? You know, if you need to do some homework or shopping or something just tell me. I'll just go back to the castle. It's no big deal."
Dean interrupted her babbling. "That's not it, Hermione. This is."
Then Dean leaned over, and kissed her. Hermione panicked for only a moment (she'd never done this before), before easing into the new feeling.
But as the two boys were leaving the small pub, they saw the kissing couple in the corner. Harry's heart seemed to be pulled out, slammed to the floor, and stepped on with some of those pointy little heels Petunia would wear.
1 End Chapter 9
In the few weeks that followed, Ron and Harry had yet to discover Hermione's reason of hurt. They talked to EVERYONE, including Ginny and Dean (who they know considered the prime source of information). Neither said a word.
"Harry," Ron said after a particularly tense grilling session with Dean, "Do you get the feeling he's not telling us everything?"
Harry sighed. "Ron, I KNOW he's not telling us everything, and I for one, don't blame him. To lie to us, he must have a pretty good reason. Making a promise to Hermione, like I'm almost positive he has, is a good enough reason for me. Now, he hinted that there was one person we hadn't asked yet, and who would tell us the answer. But the question is: who?"
"I know! We've asked EVERYONE! We asked first years, second years, third years, fourth years, fifth years, and sixth years. We've even asked other houses. Not a one knew the answer! Who could we possibly be leaving out?!"
"I don't know, Ron. I honestly don't know."
"Well, maybe there's someone at Hogsmeade who will know. We can ask them when we're there tomorrow."
Harry nodded, and dropped off to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Dean was waiting for Hermione when she came downstairs to join him at Hogsmeade the next morning.
"Hermione, you look wonderful."
She giggled. "You say that every day."
He looked at his shoes. "That's 'cause it's always true."
Hermione blushed, as Harry looked jealously upon the situation.
Soon, though, she recovered. "Well, shall we go then?"
Dean nodded, and the two exited the common room. Harry hung around a few minutes more, as Ron staggered down the stairs, clearly just waking up.
"Come on, Ron. We can't find anyone to ask if we're not there, now let's go!"
The redhead nodded, and the two of them headed out towards the nearby village.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Hey there boys." Madame Rosmerta greeted them merrily from the door.
"Hey" was the half-hearted reply given to her by both Harry and Ron.
The waitress looked at them funny. "Alright you two, come sit down and tell me everything. I can almost guarantee you I have an answer."
Ron looked skeptical. "What makes you so sure?"
"Honey, I've been dealing with sorrows of drunkards since before you came to Hogwarts. You're troubles are nothing compared to theirs."
Harry nodded. "It's Hermione."
Madame Rosmerta looked aware. "I knew something was amiss when she came in with that Thomas boy…what's his name again?"
"Dean." Ron struggled to put the name out there.
"That's right! Do go on."
Harry started back up where he left off. "Well, she hasn't spoken to us since…I guess the third week of the summer holidays."
"That long? That was over 2 months ago! What did you guys do?"
Harry sighed. "We know what we did, and we don't wish to share, but we don't understand why she won't let us apologize."
Ron nodded his agreement. "We've sent her owls with letters of apology. She sends them back as confetti, with notes that say 'I told you I wouldn't read these.' We've talked to all her friends, even some people who've never even talked to her, and none of them know anything. Or if they do, they are very convincing liars. We've done EVERYTHING!"
Madame Rosmerta looked at them, unconvinced. "You honestly think you've tried everything? I can see your next plan of action as plain as your tankards of Butterbeer."
Harry looked shocked. "Really?"
The waitress sighed again. "Yes. Have you two tried talking to her, directly to her face?"
Harry thought for a moment. "Well…no. But do you really think she'd listen to us?"
At that point, Dean and Hermione entered the pub for the second time that day. Madame Rosmerta didn't waver a bit, except for the slight difference in volume. "If Hermione really wants to be your friend again, she'll listen."
Hermione froze for a second, but quickly recovered and sat down at a table in the corner. Dean went up to the bar and ordered two Butterbeers for himself and Hermione. Then he made his way over to the corner, and sat down next to her.
Hermione took a sip of the warm drink. After this sip, she relaxed noticeably. Dean slyly "stretched" and slipped his arm over the back of her chair. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, quietly sipping their butterbeer, until Dean broke it.
Nervously, he started speaking. "Hermione, there's something I've been wanting to do almost all day."
She looked startled. "I'm sorry! Have I been making things difficult for you? You know, if you need to do some homework or shopping or something just tell me. I'll just go back to the castle. It's no big deal."
Dean interrupted her babbling. "That's not it, Hermione. This is."
Then Dean leaned over, and kissed her. Hermione panicked for only a moment (she'd never done this before), before easing into the new feeling.
But as the two boys were leaving the small pub, they saw the kissing couple in the corner. Harry's heart seemed to be pulled out, slammed to the floor, and stepped on with some of those pointy little heels Petunia would wear.
1 End Chapter 9
