Ron entered the girls' dormitory quietly. He had so much he had to atone for. He had so much to atone for that he wouldn't have known about had Hermione not inadvertently left her diary out. She would be furious if she knew just how much he and Harry had read.

Hermione's four-post bed had its curtains drawn tightly shut. She was most definitely upset. Sheepishly, he made is way to her bed.

"What?" she called, her voice void of emotion. He was at a loss for words. What could he say to her?

"Don't be mad, Herms," he said, mentally berating himself for such a smooth statement.

"Mad about what?" she asked vaguely.

"At us," he replied blandly. He winced. This wasn't going exactly as he had rehearsed it. It was too late, though, she had pulled back the bed-curtains to stare at him. He noticed that her face was tear-stained and her eyes were bloodshot. She was worn out.

"Here," he said, handing her his gift.

The petals of the flower had unfolded to reveal a beautiful red. It was simple, yet unique. It was something to be appreciated. Blinking once or twice, she slowly took her eyes from the blossom. She looked into his face, searching for one thing or another.

"How did you know?" He smiled.

"Do you really think we don't listen to you?"

"I…you…why?"

"Hermione, you're our friend. We're not the chauvinistic pigs you seem to think we are. Harry's got something else for you." After hugging her and placing a well-deserved kiss on her cheek, Ron left the girl's dormitory. She resumed staring at the seemingly unspoiled flower, not hearing another person enter the room.

Harry watched her captivated eyes. He hadn't seen that glint of happiness for quite sometime. A smile touched his lips.

"Hermione," he whispered. Startled, she lifted her eyes to his. She loved his eyes, the brilliant shade of green that they were. "Hermione," he repeated, kneeling before her. He held out his hand to her.

She stared at the gold ring he wore just above the first knuckle of his middle finger. This wasn't Harry. Harry wasn't bold, and he certainly wasn't that charming. He was a boy! He didn't deserve the time of day from, especially not after the way he and Ron had acted toward her. They hadn't cared and, so, neither would she.

She caught sight of his brilliant green eyes. There was definitely a hint of concern there, maybe even caring. But he was still a boy, and she didn't care. Yet, he had those eyes. She loved those eyes. She couldn't stay mad at him for long.

As cold and uncaring as she wanted to be, nothing could keep her hand from gently taking the ring. "Read it," he urged, getting up to leave. On the simple gold band was engraved a simple phrase. It was something that would mean more to her than life itself.

"To Hermione, with love," it read. She quietly sobbed, suddenly very happy. How had they known? But she didn't care--she had her friends back. She smiled after Harry, though he had already left.

"Thank you," she whispered.