-- Author's Note: The third installment, with which I will hope Good Ole Billy isn't rolling in his mysterious and unmarked grave because of. Thanks to everyone for the reviews so far (didn't expect them so terribly soon). The fourth chapter should be done very soon and, like all Shakespearean works, the villain will be introduced, along with his evil plot to spoil the romantic comedy! Heh, I'll give you three guesses as to who it's going to be, but you'll only need one. ^__^;

Thanks to Josh and Jude (Finding Beauty) for being the beta testers of this portion (and the ones before it) of the Much Ado About Everything.




By the time Friday came around, Hermione was more confused than Norbert, the poor little dragon Hagrid had hatched and attempted to raise six years before, who was convinced the half-giant was his mother. For the past three weeks, she and Ron had been bickering on and off on a subject she had chosen to only back down on when Ron apologized for his behavior or pigs flew -- his cheating. It was one thing to glance over at Harry's paper in Charms (mainly because it wasn't her paper), but a completely different situation when it came to him blatantly copying an entire list of ingredients she had spent over an hour preparing. That, Hermione came to a conclusion, was simply uncalled for.

However, on Tuesday (the third day of their fourth week of arguing, that is), something very strange, indeed, happened. During the last few minutes of Herbology, their bickering got completely out of hand and Ron gave her the most hurtful insult he had managed to utter since their first year at Hogwarts. Of course, by the time that she had fled from the greenhouse (slightly tearful, not sobbing as some people claimed later on), most of what he had said had completely escaped her memory ... though it was very difficult to suddenly forget the part about being an overbearing cow and no one caring what she had to say.

Thus, after a brief tea with Hagrid, which did serve to make her feel better, Hermione returned to the greenhouses to collect her forgotten bag, only to find out from Professor Sprout that Harry had taken it with him when he left (annoyingly, as if she would completely forget something that important) and Ron had received a hefty detention sentence for what he had said -- though more-so for his choice of words than merely insulting her. Nevertheless, Hermione was able to leave the greenhouses feeling a sense of justice welling within her, making it completely to the Gryffindor common room without running into the single person she would have paid a hundred Galleons not to speak to for a hundred years.

Looking considerably more happy than nearly an hour before, she entered the common room to find Harry waiting (with Dean and Seamus) for her with her bag. He seemed quite nervous about something, kept checking his watch, then eventually left with his two roommates after they whispered to themselves for a moment. Although it was very odd behavior, Hermione had more important things -- such as an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts -- to worry over and went quietly to work at a table in the corner of the common room, undisturbed there for several hours.


"Hermione -- " Ron managed to choke out from across the room when he entered, hurrying away from a very concerned looking Harry to stand just a few paces away from where she was working. " -- I just, uh, wanted to apologize," he went on, as she neither glanced up when he spoke her name nor even paused in her writing to acknowledge his presence, sounding almost nervous.

After several more moments of writing (as it was in her interest, of course, to make him wait), Hermione did look up, a slightly astonished look playing across her otherwise calm and collected features. "It took you long enough," she said simply, assuming he was there to apologize for the continual bickering of the past weeks.

"It was a few hours ago, Hermione, and I -- "

"Oh," she interrupted, going directly back to the books and parchment before her. "In that case, Ronald Weasley, I decline acceptance of your apology."

"What?!" he demanded, then stiffened slightly, looking pained. "I mean, er, what do you want me to apologize for?"

"I wonder."

There was a lengthy pause, during which it was quite apparent he was shifting every bit of information about in his head -- much like the shifting of contents in an overly stuffed drawer -- to find the answer to his own question. Eventually, he managed, "The Potions assignment?"

"Exactly."

"Would you apologize for embarrassing me in front of everyone?" he tiptoed around the subject gently, though it did not change the fact that he still wanted an apology from her, for simply calling him down on something he did wrong.

The text book for Defense Against the Dark Arts was closed with a resounding bang. "You're hopeless," she sighed, gathering her work to move out of the common room and up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. "Utterly hopeless."


That had been Tuesday evening. By the time Friday rolled round, things were even stranger. Not in the days following the failed attempt to reconcile had Ron once attempted to start another row and, even more strangely, he tried his best to prevent simple misunderstandings from blossoming into arguments, whereas before he would go out of his way to grumble under his breath or make careless insults. It was beginning to drive Hermione insane -- he wouldn't apologize, but he would no longer argue with her. Did he just suddenly think he could drop the entire thing without admitting he was wrong? Frustrated, she left the aforementioned and Harry in the midst of dinner with a groan of vexation Friday evening.

Though, halfway to the Gryffindor tower, she was stopped by Professor McGonagall. "Miss Granger, where is Mister Weasley? He's at the risk of being late for detention!"

"He's having dinner," Hermione replied dully, not at all liking being stopped by one of her most liked Professors -- the Head of Gryffindor house and Deputy Headmistress, no less -- to be asked about Ronald Weasley.

"Would you fetch him for me? I have three other students to watch over at the moment and Peeves has been threatening to throw water balloons around my room all week, and -- " before the older woman could continue in her plea any further, Hermione resigned herself and gave a grave nod.

"Of course, Professor," she answered in unison with her nodding, turning and heading directly back down the stairs before McGonagall had time enough to thank her.

Arriving shortly thereafter at the Gryffindor table behind Ron, she gave him a sharp tap upon the shoulder, causing him to shrink away and give an annoyed look behind him -- until, it seemed, he realized it was her and smiled broadly. "Yes, Hermione?" came an annoyingly polite and happy inquiry.

"McGonagall wants you. You're going to be late for detention," she snapped at him, hoping to wipe the silly smile (which was rapidly blossoming into a grin) from his freckled face. He knew he annoyed her more by acting normal -- or, abnormal, she noted -- instead of angry and refusing to apologize to her. He knew and he was trying to upset her more with it.

"Really?" he said pleasantly, quickly grabbing a few dinner rolls from the table and stuffing them into his robes. "I didn't think it was that late. Than -- " he had paused to gulp down the rest of his pumpkin juice and turned to thank Hermione, but found that she was already storming out of the Great Hall as if he had slapped her across the face.

Partially outside the Great Hall and into the expanse of the entrance hall adjoined to it, Hermione was abruptly stopped by the fiery-haired boy she was trying to avoid. "Thank you, Hermione, for telling me. I would have been late and in more trouble if you hadn't come to get me."

Halting dead in her tracks, she waited for a moment to prevent any overly harsh words from escaping her lips. "McGonagall sent me. I told you that."

"Well, I'm sorry if you went out of your way," he replied quickly, to the point that Hermione was beginning to wonder if he was feeling well. He seemed to have gone out of his head with 'thank you's and 'I'm sorry's lately -- just, for the latter, not in the right area.

It was enough to give her a nervous twitch. "I didn't go out of my way!" she snapped, turning around to look at him. "If I had to go out of my way, I would have told McGonagall no and let you be late for your stupid detention!"

Undaunted, Ron smiled still. "I'm sorry, then, did you volunteer to do it?"

Hermione actually thought her left eye twitched -- and immediately felt as if she were channeling Mad Eye Moody -- at the fact that his pleasant mood was resolute against her yelling. "About as much as you'd volunteer to be turned into a pincushion," she retorted harshly and, at this, brandished her wand at him, as if threatening to transfigure him into such a cushion.

Still, he smiled -- perhaps even broader, if it were possible -- and looked almost as if he were taking the empty threat as some strange form of flirting, his cheeks and ears growing a bit pink. "I'll see you later, Hermione, after I've served my detention. Thanks, again." With that, he stepped around her and ascended the stairs two at a time.

Hermione could have sworn she heard him mumble: McGonagall sent me -- a likely story. I'm sure there's a double meaning in that, somewhere.

With a groan of absolute, sheer, undiluted frustration, Hermione followed suit and ascended the steps (though not with as much spring in her step as Ron had), making her way toward the library -- which would hopefully serve as a haven from this absurdity. Entering, she found the dusty book-filled room to be quite vacant of many students (due to the hour) and chose to seat herself at one of the many tables to read a random book pulled from a random shelf, as it didn't matter what she read since it was all equally interesting to her.


After nearly fifteen minutes of straight reading, Hermione's concentration was broken by a giggle from the other side of a bookshelf behind her, then the chatter of several distinctly female voices, some of which she recognized. "Please, Parvati," came the hushed whisper of Lavender Brown. "Tell me what you heard."

Hermione, of course, was not one to dally upon the topic of gossip, but her interest was thoroughly piqued when she heard the recognizably accented voice of Ginny Weasley pipe in, "Oh, it was so romantic. Ron! My own brother!"

Romantic. Ron. Ron Weasley. The two words didn't even belong in the same sentence -- the same paragraph, for that matter -- which was what cinched the deal, causing Hermione to slowly rise from her seat and creep towards the bookshelf which the girls were giggling behind. While pretending to be nonchalantly browsing through the dust-laced volumes before her, she peered through the gaps in the shelf to watch the conversation taking place.

"I can't believe it, myself," Parvati Patil's voice broke through the giggling between Lavender and Ginny -- and two other girls Hermione didn't recognize readily, but remembered from Gryffindor. Parvati went on, speaking more-so to Lavender and the other girls than Ginny, who had since settled into a dreamy state. "We overheard him talking to Harry the other day," she motioned to herself and Ginny. "He said this fight they've been having on and off these weeks is killing him. Every argument is a stab to his heart."

With a blink, Hermione realized they were speaking not only about Ron, but about her as well. Why, how dare they make her a subject of uncalled for gossip! It was an outrage if it was anything, as she was Head Girl! About to tear through the shelf of books -- yes, tear through books -- to get to the little gossipmongers, she was stilled by Ginny's voice ... and more insight as to what the conversation was about.

"I was there," the younger girl sighed out, smiling as if she had just been given a bouquet of beautiful roses. "I've never heard him speak in such a way before -- I never knew my very own brother could be so poetic, so ... " instead of going on, she let out another sigh, as though her words had completely failed her and that was all she needed to express her feelings.

"He was absolutely eloquent!" Parvati burst out, getting a subsequent Shh! from Madam Pince (from all the way across the library, too, that creepy woman). Continuing for her younger, awestruck companion, she began to quote what were, apparently, Ron's exact words, "Every argument stabs like a knife at my heart. It's ironic, that the very organ which feels so dearly for her would be that which receives the brunt of her attacks."

That certainly didn't sound much like something Ron would say, Hermione thought, but it was eloquent nonetheless. Still, it caused her to think, but perhaps a moment too late -- what Parvati had to say next captivated her entirely within the same cocoon of romantic warmth which had obviously enveloped Ginny. Trivial details such as what sounded like something Ron would say completely slipped from her mind.

"He said: I first realized my feelings for her completely two years ago, on a particularly uneventful night, while she was reading by the fireplace in the common room. Maybe it was the lighting or maybe it was the atmosphere or maybe it was the fact that for the first time since I've known her I opened my eyes -- but I suddenly said to myself, 'My God, Hermione Granger is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.' And, honestly, I thought I might cry."

Lavender (and Hermione) had been listening with rapt attention and held breath, and let out a heavy, dreamy sigh (as did Hermione) after Parvati's account of Ron's words. A squeal of sheer, girlish delight (which Hermione silently echoed) slipped from her lips as she began to beg (with Hermione's silent pleas juxtaposed) for more information. "What else did he say? Anything?"

Parvti inhaled a deep breath of the musty library air before she continued, "He told Harry that he hated what was going on between them, but only argued with her to hide his true feelings -- feelings he couldn't bear to reveal for fear of rejection. He has feelings for her, that's for sure, but could never bear the thought of being rejected."

During a pause, Ginny interjected in a whisper that caused Hermione to strain harder to hear, pushing against the bookshelf separating them and threatening to push several books out the other side. "He ... he said that he would die if he exposed himself in such a way and she didn't accept his love."

Love? Hermione echoed within her own mind, suddenly feeling a dizzy sort of warmth fill her head, threatening to help her collapse into a faint right then and there. Love!

"He said," Parvati whispered, sounding actually tearful, "that it was far better to love her in secret than to make himself so vulnerable in such a way!" Her voice had steadily risen, causing another chide from Madam Pince to echo across the library. "And that he would, no matter how painful to his heart, continue to hide his feelings for her behind a façade of acrimony."

Ron using words like façade and acrimony were enough, alone, to cause Hermione's heart to skip a beat.

"Isn't there anything that can be done?" Lavender virtually begged, asking aloud the very same question that was echoing throughout every pore and fiber of Hermione's being to the point that she mouthed the inquiry along with the girl on the other side of the book shelf. At the same time, she dropped the library book in her right hand dully to the floor, using the then empty hand to press over her rapidly beating heart in vain attempt to still it.

It was the distinct sigh of Ginny, this time, that replied, "I'm afraid not, he's quite set on it. He won't tell her and he won't allow Harry or me to tell her, either."

A pained look overcame Hermione's features at the notion, while at the same time Lavender exclaimed, "It's so tragic!" Again, Madam Pince shushed, this time sounding more threatening than before.

"Tragic, yes," Parvati agreed, still sounding tearful and proving that she was, indeed, by wiping tentatively at her right eye. "But ultimately true. Oh, but if the stars had been right all those years ago!" she let-loose a loud comment, sounding terribly much like the Divination Professor.

This time, however, Madam Pince had had enough and came marching directly back to where the girls were gathered, thoroughly ignoring the awestruck Hermione (who appeared to be looking for a book) as she went straight for the source of trouble. "I knew it!" she exclaimed with great relish, ignoring her own rules of silence. "Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, of course. That's it, girls. Out! And don't come back until tomorrow. This isn't a social gathering, it's a library." Shooing out the group, who began to giggle as they passed Hermione, Madam Pince turned a concerned eye to the Head Girl.

"Miss Granger? Do you need help looking for a book?" stooping, she picked up the book Hermione had unknowingly dropped.

Blinking as Madam Pince's voice brought her sharply back to reality, Hermione finally tore her eyes away from the book shelf and looked to the Librarian. "I ... um ... was just l-looking for a, er ... "

Pince's brow furrowed at the odd behavior of the young lady, holding up the book she had dropped -- 101 Magical Ways to Ensure Love. "This?"

The title never caught her eye, but Hermione gave a very assuring nod of her head. "Y-Yes, that's it! Might I borrow it?"

"Of course. Bring it back by the thirtieth," the Librarian carefully handed the thick volume to Hermione, arching a brow in a concerned manner at the text she chose and, again, her strange behavior.

Although usually one to double check a due date and profusely assure to return the book promptly at -- if not before -- that time, Hermione simply took the offered book with a numb nod, strolling past Madam Pince and out the library doors without another word.

Façade, she thought again as she moved in the general direction of the Gryffindor tower, though quite unaware that she was taking the excessively long and tedious route to get there. Ronald Weasley used the word 'façade.'