A/N: I thank everyone for there reviews. I really do appreciate them. ^.~
Disclaimer: notminenotminenotmine!
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After the chess game, Ron had stalked out of the common room. He needed time to think to himself. He absently stalked the hallways, having neither aim nor direction of where he might go. Ron stepped through the doors of the library, noting the peace and quiet of the large room, the musty smell of books washing over him. He had walked to table best hidden from the door by bookcases. His only worry was that Hermione might find him.
While Ron sat sulking, he thought about everything that Harry had said. Hermione was in real trouble, and he didn't know how he could help her. Harry had been right about many things.
It had taken him awhile to realize it, but his feelings for Hermione extended beyond those of just a friend. His heart ached at the thought of what that punk Viktor Krum had done to her.
Yet, he reminded himself, she said she hadn't gone to visit him. Does that mean she didn't see him at all? He wondered if maybe Viktor had chosen to visit her instead. Ron sighed loudly and rested his chin in his hands, elbows on the table. He feared for her life, knowing that she was quickly disappearing. Every day, there was a little less of her. He feared that before he got a chance to hold her, there would be no more of her to hold.
He slammed his hand roughly against the table, beating it hard. He yelped in pain. Frustration overwhelmed him. He had no clue as to how he could help Hermione. He wanted to help her, but he feared that there was nothing he could do for her.
"Just get over the temper-tantrums and go to her. Tell her how you feel and find out what's happened to her."
Maybe Harry was right. Yet, he still had to get up the nerve to tell her such a thing. It wouldn't be easy, especially if she gave him that glare. That hurtful glare that told him he could never have her, that he couldn't protect her.
With a new air of determination, Ron stood up. He fled from the library, causing many students to eye him curiously as he pushed past the heavy wooden door. He wasn't sure of what he would say to her, but he knew that he had to say something.
~****~
Ron hurried back through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. Harry jumped to his feet and rushed over to his red-headed friend.
"Ron---" He began, but Ron waved him off. He needed to speak to her now. He needed to do it before he lost his nerve.
"No Harry. I have to talk to Hermione right now." He hurriedly crossed the room towards the staircase that led to the dormitories.
"No, Ron. Listen to me!" Harry urged as he followed Ron to the steps. "RON! STOP!" He grabbed Ron's shoulder, turning him brusquely around.
Ron glared at him vehemently. 'Certainly this could wait!' He thought. "What is it Harry?! I have to go speak to Hermione! I'm doing just what you asked of me!"
Harry's face appeared pained and hurt. Parvati Patil came up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Ron, Hermione is in the hospital wing. She isn't well." A frown was on her face. It was the first time he had ever seen her show concern for Hermione. "You hurt her badly, Ron. If I were you, I wouldn't go to her for awhile….."
Parvati pushed past him and climbed the steps up to the dormitory. It almost seemed that she had had tears in her eyes.
"The….the hospital wing?" Ron felt his eyes go misty. He glared at Harry, in question. "What does Parvati mean, Harry? What happened?" Ron grabbed at the collar of Harry's sweater.
Harry gulped and attempted to loosen Ron's grip. "Ron, relax. Please. Hermione was found in her bed, blood was everywhere. Her wrists had been sliced open."
Ron released Harry's collar and cried out. He stumbled over to an easy chair and sat uncomfortably. "What….what happened to her?" He couldn't bring himself to look up at Harry. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the rug.
"Madam Pomfrey thinks someone attacked Hermione. But do you honestly believe someone would go in and slit her wrists?" He responded uneasily.
Ron felt anger flaring within him again as looked up to glare at his best friend. "And what do you think? Huh? Do you think she would slit her own wrists?! What kind of a friend are you anyway? Thinking your friend would hurt herself on purpose…. Honestly!"
Ron stood up. He gave one last, lingering glare at Harry before he headed to the portrait hole.
"Ron, wait!" Harry called after him.
But Ron did not respond. Instead, he climbed through the hole and left Harry standing there in the common room, a look of unease upon his face.
Disclaimer: notminenotminenotmine!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After the chess game, Ron had stalked out of the common room. He needed time to think to himself. He absently stalked the hallways, having neither aim nor direction of where he might go. Ron stepped through the doors of the library, noting the peace and quiet of the large room, the musty smell of books washing over him. He had walked to table best hidden from the door by bookcases. His only worry was that Hermione might find him.
While Ron sat sulking, he thought about everything that Harry had said. Hermione was in real trouble, and he didn't know how he could help her. Harry had been right about many things.
It had taken him awhile to realize it, but his feelings for Hermione extended beyond those of just a friend. His heart ached at the thought of what that punk Viktor Krum had done to her.
Yet, he reminded himself, she said she hadn't gone to visit him. Does that mean she didn't see him at all? He wondered if maybe Viktor had chosen to visit her instead. Ron sighed loudly and rested his chin in his hands, elbows on the table. He feared for her life, knowing that she was quickly disappearing. Every day, there was a little less of her. He feared that before he got a chance to hold her, there would be no more of her to hold.
He slammed his hand roughly against the table, beating it hard. He yelped in pain. Frustration overwhelmed him. He had no clue as to how he could help Hermione. He wanted to help her, but he feared that there was nothing he could do for her.
"Just get over the temper-tantrums and go to her. Tell her how you feel and find out what's happened to her."
Maybe Harry was right. Yet, he still had to get up the nerve to tell her such a thing. It wouldn't be easy, especially if she gave him that glare. That hurtful glare that told him he could never have her, that he couldn't protect her.
With a new air of determination, Ron stood up. He fled from the library, causing many students to eye him curiously as he pushed past the heavy wooden door. He wasn't sure of what he would say to her, but he knew that he had to say something.
~****~
Ron hurried back through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room. Harry jumped to his feet and rushed over to his red-headed friend.
"Ron---" He began, but Ron waved him off. He needed to speak to her now. He needed to do it before he lost his nerve.
"No Harry. I have to talk to Hermione right now." He hurriedly crossed the room towards the staircase that led to the dormitories.
"No, Ron. Listen to me!" Harry urged as he followed Ron to the steps. "RON! STOP!" He grabbed Ron's shoulder, turning him brusquely around.
Ron glared at him vehemently. 'Certainly this could wait!' He thought. "What is it Harry?! I have to go speak to Hermione! I'm doing just what you asked of me!"
Harry's face appeared pained and hurt. Parvati Patil came up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"Ron, Hermione is in the hospital wing. She isn't well." A frown was on her face. It was the first time he had ever seen her show concern for Hermione. "You hurt her badly, Ron. If I were you, I wouldn't go to her for awhile….."
Parvati pushed past him and climbed the steps up to the dormitory. It almost seemed that she had had tears in her eyes.
"The….the hospital wing?" Ron felt his eyes go misty. He glared at Harry, in question. "What does Parvati mean, Harry? What happened?" Ron grabbed at the collar of Harry's sweater.
Harry gulped and attempted to loosen Ron's grip. "Ron, relax. Please. Hermione was found in her bed, blood was everywhere. Her wrists had been sliced open."
Ron released Harry's collar and cried out. He stumbled over to an easy chair and sat uncomfortably. "What….what happened to her?" He couldn't bring himself to look up at Harry. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on the rug.
"Madam Pomfrey thinks someone attacked Hermione. But do you honestly believe someone would go in and slit her wrists?" He responded uneasily.
Ron felt anger flaring within him again as looked up to glare at his best friend. "And what do you think? Huh? Do you think she would slit her own wrists?! What kind of a friend are you anyway? Thinking your friend would hurt herself on purpose…. Honestly!"
Ron stood up. He gave one last, lingering glare at Harry before he headed to the portrait hole.
"Ron, wait!" Harry called after him.
But Ron did not respond. Instead, he climbed through the hole and left Harry standing there in the common room, a look of unease upon his face.