Shocked, Hermione and Ron both stared at each other for a minute.
Sighing, Ron offered her a hand to get up. Remembering what he had said
earlier, she glared at him.
"I don't want to go off and ruin your holiday now." She told him, helping herself off the ground.
"Look, Hermione, if your going to be this way," He said, grabbing her brush and putting it in her bag.
"I can do it myself." She said coldly.
"Fine." He replied, shoving her bag in her hand. "All I wanted to do is help."
"Help?" She said, her voice half sarcastic and half hurt, "By calling me a stuck up little brat?" She picked up her bathrobe and brushed it off.
"I didn't think you were listening-"
"Oh, just go and talk about me when I'm not listening. That's the point now isn't it?" She said, her voice rising.
"Yeah, well maybe there ARE some things you need to hear."
"Like what?" She glared at him.
"Like how could ANYONE fancy a hag like yourself?" He yelled to her.
"Oh really?" She said, picking up one of her many heavy books, pretending not to care. "Cause just a week ago it seemed that you did fancy me." She said, cocking an eyebrow. His ears turned red.
"Yeah," he countered slowly and bitterly, "But I guess I was wrong. You know what, Hermione? I guess you were just leading me on. Is that the type of dirty work you do know?" Hermione was shocked. Appalled, she threw her book at him. It hit him square in the shoulder. Wincing, he stepped back.
"I wasn't leading you on." She said quietly.
"Yeah? Well - If you did really care . . ." He was rubbing his shoulder but stopped when she uttered something.
"What?" He couldn't have heard what he thought he just did.
Trying to cover up tears, Hermione proceeded to the end of the hall, followed the vanity's directions and entered the bathroom. Softening a little, Ron was following quickly. Once inside, she gave Ron one more look, her brown eyes meeting his deep blue ones. When she slammed the door, it began to vanish right before his eyes.
Angry, Ron kicked the book Hermione that hit him earlier on the shoulder. He was so frustrated. And he had to find out if what she had said was true. Going back to his room, he fell onto the bed and when the mirror began to speak, he threw a pillow at it. In his mind he replayed the scene that had just happened.
Hermione had turned away and muttered something. Unless his ears were tricking him, it sounded like "I do." She does? He questioned himself. She does care? Or she does still fancy me? Or she cares only cause she's my friend . . .? So maybe possibilities in those two words. Maybe he could talk to her. It was still early. He walked to the door but it was opened before him.
"Dad?" He asked.
"Well look at you, eager beaver." He said happily. "C'mon, you've missed out on enough. We're going down so I can introduce you to the muggles!" Joyously, he grabbed Ron's arm and in reply Ron groaned miserably. This was going to be a long day.
When it finally did end, his father, still commenting on all the muggle devices and works, hustled Ron back to the room. He wanted to visit Hermione, but couldn't. What if her parents were there and she wasn't? What would he say? Finally, Ron got into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.
Hermione buried herself in books and kept the conversations with the furniture to a minimum. She met up with her parents for tea, but felt sick and returned to bed soon after. The next morning, Hermione and her parents left early, and luckily, she didn't have to talk much because they were still enthused with the workings of the wizarding government. However, this gave Hermione a lot of thinking time. And within those few hours she decided what she had to do. She had to visit Ron in the Burrow and tell him the truth.
"I don't want to go off and ruin your holiday now." She told him, helping herself off the ground.
"Look, Hermione, if your going to be this way," He said, grabbing her brush and putting it in her bag.
"I can do it myself." She said coldly.
"Fine." He replied, shoving her bag in her hand. "All I wanted to do is help."
"Help?" She said, her voice half sarcastic and half hurt, "By calling me a stuck up little brat?" She picked up her bathrobe and brushed it off.
"I didn't think you were listening-"
"Oh, just go and talk about me when I'm not listening. That's the point now isn't it?" She said, her voice rising.
"Yeah, well maybe there ARE some things you need to hear."
"Like what?" She glared at him.
"Like how could ANYONE fancy a hag like yourself?" He yelled to her.
"Oh really?" She said, picking up one of her many heavy books, pretending not to care. "Cause just a week ago it seemed that you did fancy me." She said, cocking an eyebrow. His ears turned red.
"Yeah," he countered slowly and bitterly, "But I guess I was wrong. You know what, Hermione? I guess you were just leading me on. Is that the type of dirty work you do know?" Hermione was shocked. Appalled, she threw her book at him. It hit him square in the shoulder. Wincing, he stepped back.
"I wasn't leading you on." She said quietly.
"Yeah? Well - If you did really care . . ." He was rubbing his shoulder but stopped when she uttered something.
"What?" He couldn't have heard what he thought he just did.
Trying to cover up tears, Hermione proceeded to the end of the hall, followed the vanity's directions and entered the bathroom. Softening a little, Ron was following quickly. Once inside, she gave Ron one more look, her brown eyes meeting his deep blue ones. When she slammed the door, it began to vanish right before his eyes.
Angry, Ron kicked the book Hermione that hit him earlier on the shoulder. He was so frustrated. And he had to find out if what she had said was true. Going back to his room, he fell onto the bed and when the mirror began to speak, he threw a pillow at it. In his mind he replayed the scene that had just happened.
Hermione had turned away and muttered something. Unless his ears were tricking him, it sounded like "I do." She does? He questioned himself. She does care? Or she does still fancy me? Or she cares only cause she's my friend . . .? So maybe possibilities in those two words. Maybe he could talk to her. It was still early. He walked to the door but it was opened before him.
"Dad?" He asked.
"Well look at you, eager beaver." He said happily. "C'mon, you've missed out on enough. We're going down so I can introduce you to the muggles!" Joyously, he grabbed Ron's arm and in reply Ron groaned miserably. This was going to be a long day.
When it finally did end, his father, still commenting on all the muggle devices and works, hustled Ron back to the room. He wanted to visit Hermione, but couldn't. What if her parents were there and she wasn't? What would he say? Finally, Ron got into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.
Hermione buried herself in books and kept the conversations with the furniture to a minimum. She met up with her parents for tea, but felt sick and returned to bed soon after. The next morning, Hermione and her parents left early, and luckily, she didn't have to talk much because they were still enthused with the workings of the wizarding government. However, this gave Hermione a lot of thinking time. And within those few hours she decided what she had to do. She had to visit Ron in the Burrow and tell him the truth.
