It was one of the harshest arguments he had ever had with Hermione -- it didn't simply die, for some reason, after the night in the common room. Instead, it erupted again in the library two days later when she made a comment about him doing his own work, which in turn sent him into a sort of flurry of insults towards her. By the time it was all said and done, Madam Pince had tossed them both out of the library on their arses and Hermione refused to even look at him (let alone speak to him). Though, that was fine, as if he wanted to talk to her, anyway.

A week passed, then another, going well into a third, while all they did was argue. After three days of classes, it proved impossible not to speak to each-other when and if they were paired for work in Charms or Defense Against the Dark Arts, making the conversation in both classes short, to the point, and about as rude as a person could get in front of Professor Flitwick or Figg without incurring some sort of rarely seen wraith and subsequent detention for excessive use of the word 'bitch' or 'prat.' Thus, the rude (or, as the Ravenclaws from Charms described downright offensive to the senses) 'conversing' moved steadily away from the classroom until it turned to snippets of belittling down the corridors or jabs back and forth in the common room or insults hurled over the Gryffindor table at breakfast.

It was the longest running argument they had ever had -- pulling ahead of what was known as the "Viktor Krum incident" from years past in the race. Ron, however, had soon forgotten the fact that he had started the argument and that he continued the argument, instead of simply admitting that he was wrong for copying her homework. Instead, he came to embrace the truth that Hermione had purposefully embarrassed him in front of half the Gryffindors and was not letting go of the argument simply because she wanted to have the last word -- which, of course, he would not allow.

Ron did not win his biggest victory until sometime during the fourth week of nonstop bickering between the two of them. During the last several minutes of Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, during which he, Harry, and Hermione were cleaning around the area in which they had re-potted at least ten Alihotsy plants, something between the two of them had sparked another of a series of rows which had been going on all day. Hermione shot him an insult having something to do with his inability to do his own school work, threatening to embarrass him in front of the Hufflepuffs much the same way she had done in the common room weeks earlier, which caused him to burst at the seams with an insult that had been boiling within him for some time.

Although he had no idea what sort of insult slipped from his lips, it caused Hermione to stare wildly at him in shock for several minutes, during which he noticed tears welling in her eyes, before simply storming out of the greenhouse completely. Professor Sprout, thoroughly taken aback to the point of catatonic shock, managed to come to from the incident before everyone else, promptly rewarding Ron with a trip to detention -- for excessive use of expletives. Harry, the second to blink away the aftereffects of sheer shock (which had also caused him to drop a perfectly good potted Alihotsy plant) managed to whisper, "Ron, really, that was uncalled for."

Whatever he had said really hadn't been his fault, as he couldn't remember saying anything past 'annoying, stuck-up, know-it-all.' "What?" he demanded of Harry as they left the greenhouse. "What did I say?"

Harry, who had hefted Hermione's abandoned bag from the greenhouse floor, looked as if he were about to die from the excess weight of half the library on his shoulder. It took him a moment, but he finally replied, "The much sanitized version? You called her: an annoying, stuck-up, know-it-all overbearing cow who was better off with her bushy head stuck in some book than spouting useless Hogwarts: A History information at people who couldn't give a rat's arse about anything she had to say."

Ron stopped dead in his tracks, looking quite pale upon hearing the sanitized version of what he had just gotten detention for -- though, more importantly, what he had said to Hermione. For a brief moment, he felt a sharp pang of guilt in the back of his mind, a tiny voice tucked away in the same spot yelping: how could you say something like that to her? Prat! Yet, another part of his brain told him to shrug it off. "She deserved it, Harry," he finally, defensively, announced, that larger and more booming part of his brain telling him he was in the right on this subject. "She's said worse to me. Look what she said in front of all the Gryffindors!"

Harry squirmed like a worm on a hook at Ron's defensive statements, still not willing to fully take any sides in this argument, though both had attempted to persuade him to do so. "Look, Ron, I'm going to take her bag to her," Harry started, but immediately became nervous under the heated look from his friend. "Well, you know how she gets without her homework. She'd blame it on you if she didn't get her work in on time," he attempted to rationally explain his actions.

"She blames everything on me, anyway!" Ron retorted heatedly. "You'd think the way she acts, I'm the one who enslaved the House Elves or caused You-Know-Who to rise again -- oh. Sorry, Harry. But, you know what I mean!"

"Still," Harry said, after recovering from the mention of Voldemort's rise, glancing over his shoulder for a moment. It was beginning to look like weeks of planning would have to be paused for a day, due to the fact that the new row had thoroughly thrown things off. Nevertheless, he would attempt to salvage things as best as he could. "Look, I'll go give her the bag, then meet you in the Great Hall for dinner," he offered, with hopes of still going through with the arranged plan.

Ron was quite confused by the suggestion, as it was still early for dinner, but agreed nevertheless -- as long as he avoided Hermione for some time, he would be safely away from more arguments and able to avoid apologizing as the back of his mind was suggesting. "All right, mate, no problem. See you, then."


Harry, however, never showed up for dinner. After refilling his plate three times and subsequently clearing it three times, Ron eventually grew weary of waiting for his lightening-scarred colleague and rose from the table to leave the hall. He passed his younger sister on the way, who was giggling with a group of girls which included Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown -- strange company, he thought -- who all seemed to be submerged in whispered speech as if they were all in on a secret to which none else were privy. After tossing an odd look in the group's generally direction, he moved out of the dining hall and started up the grand staircase across the expanse of the large, adjoining room.

"It happened just now," Ron heard Harry's voice from one of the first floor corridors as he ascended the large set of stairs. "I went to give her the bag she left in Herbology and she just broke down right then and there, crying."

Curious, Ron changed his course and direction to steer him closer to the conversation, while at the same time remaining well out of view of the group Harry was talking to -- which, Ron noted, consisted merely of Dean and Seamus. Why wasn't he invited? And, at that, why were they talking about Hermione?

"What did she say?" the thick Irish accent of Seamus Finnigan inquired, a tinge of curiosity in his voice.

Harry paused in his stroll down the corridor, leaning his back against the very edge of the wall which Ron was using as cover, still on the staircase, to eavesdrop on the conversation. "She said she loves him," he sighed out simply, as if the profession of love was something he, personally, found disheartening.

"Loves him?" Seamus and Dean echoed at the same time in disbelief (their voices expressing perfectly the look of confusion upon Ron's features). "They hate each other, Harry. It's going on four solid weeks of bickering between the two of them!" Dean continued in disbelief, at which time Ron's eyes widened with the realization that the three of them were talking about him and Hermione. About how Hermione loved him.

Loved him. Him. Ronald Weasley.

"I know!" Harry exclaimed, sounding utterly dismayed, as if someone had just told him that they were down 150 points in a Quidditch match and had no hope of scoring enough points to win, even if he caught the Snitch. "You saw what happened in Herbology today, he got detention for what he said and she stormed off -- crying."

There was a lingering silence between the three, during which Ron simply stared across the open expanse of the stairwell towards the paintings moving on the opposite wall. It wasn't true ... it couldn't be true. Hermione couldn't love him.

"Was that all she said?" Seamus questioned quietly, almost embarrassed to be pressing for more information. "Just that she loved him?"

"No," Harry answered quickly, sounding to be frowning by the tone of his voice. "She said that it was hell, the arguing. Those weren't her exact words, of course, but that was the gist of it. She told me that she had to tell someone, because it was killing her to keep it all bottled up."

Dean broke in after a moment of silence, appearing to have the same problem as Seamus. "Should we tell him? I mean, did she want -- "

"No!" Harry answered quickly again, not even waiting for the entire question to get out. "I asked her if she wanted me to tell him for her, after she said that she couldn't do it herself, but she begged me not to. She said ... she'd die if I told him. She'd die if she told him. And what's worse, she'd die if he asked her about it."

Seamus and Dean were silent for a moment, during which Ron had to stare intently across at the paintings and concentrate on their doings, rather than the conversation for the moment, to prevent himself from leaping from behind the wall and asking Harry a million questions at once, the first of which being . . . Really?

"So," Seamus said as he obviously attempted to work out Hermione's logic within his head. "She'd die if anyone ever told him and she'd die if he asked her out, anyway?"

There was silence, during which Harry simply nodded, though Ron could not see this. Finally, the silence was broken as he spoke again, "I wish there was something we could do for her, really, instead of just knowing. But, she made me promise I wouldn't tell him. Now ... now, I don't know what to do."

Ron felt exactly like Harry -- he knew, when he wasn't supposed to, and had no idea what to do. A million questions raced through his mind once more, making it harder and harder to refrain from giving himself away to ask them.

Seamus broke the heavy silence that had settled over the three -- and threatened to give Ron, obviously, away, as he was apparently breathing heavily by that time -- by asking, "Well, I don't get it, Harry. If she loves him, right, why is she still going on with this argument?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? She doesn't want him to know she loves him, so she keeps with the arguing, even though it's tearing her up inside."

Tearing her up inside? Ron thought to himself, biting at his lower lip as a pained expression came over his face. That little voice in the back of his mind had grown stronger with this news, nearly booming as loudly as what was obviously his ego, telling him to let up. Apologize.

"What about Krum?" Dean questioned in a concerned tone while giving Harry a wink -- the subject of Viktor had been thrown in at the last minute, knowing what effect it would have upon Ron.

"There was never much between the two of them," Harry informed his friend, knowingly, as Hermione had allegedly poured her soul out to him (which was why, of course, he had not been there at dinner). "She told me that she's always cared for Ron and the last day of school that year, Krum asked her to go to Bulgaria with him over the summer, but ... " he trailed off, as he had began grinning to his two companions and did not want the action to bleed into his words.

But . . . ? Ron gripping at the railing to his right, on the edge of his seat (so to speak) in anticipation of the remainder of the statement. But what!?

" . . . but, she told him her heart belonged to another: Ron," Harry finished after a silence long enough to kill Ron with apprehension. After which, all three pretended to ignore the relieved sigh from behind the wall, which soon began to sound like a noise Peeves would make as the Weasley attempted to cover up his mistake without giving away his position.

The three nearly burst out laughing at the noise from behind the wall, taking some time to recover before moving on. "Anyway," Harry said pointedly. "Hermione claimed to have only spoken to him occasionally since. He even has a fiancée now."

From behind the wall, there came the faintest sound of shoes thudding upon the stone floor and a stifled cheer. Again, it must have been Peeves.

"So, I don't know what to do, guys."

Seamus gave a shrug, continuing down the corridor, "Don't do anything, mate. She confessed to you, right? So you have to keep your promise -- don't tell him. I feel sorry for her, yeah, but it's a promise."

"I agree, Harry," Dean chimed in as they continued down the corridor and steadily out of Ron's range of hearing. "Poor Hermione," he sighed, though that was the last coherent words heard by the Weasley still in hiding.

He stood there for quite some time, as if his eyes were glued to the paintings across the stairwell, simply letting all the information sink into his head. Hermione loves me, he thought at last after many moments of thinking nothing at all. She confessed to Harry and told Viktor Krum her heart belonged to me. Me!

A great length of time passed while he stood there, noticing neither the students or Professors who passed, until it was well into the evening and Harry 'found' him there. Ron claimed to have been admiring the portraits on the opposite wall (though most of them were asleep by then) and dazedly walked with his friend back to the Gryffindor tower.

She loves me.