Urgh, more sorries. Estoy MUY ocupada.

I like being confusing btw, but I'll explain it anyways. *this* is NOT a flashback, meaning its directly after chp 1

Hermione wiped her face from her tears and banged her head against the wall, frustrated. Her stomach churned at the memories. "Fuck," she hissed softly, and the harsh word cut at her throat. She had become so different, so different from her former self. As she reminisced the night of the ball, the days after, she felt the tears in her eyes dry and her heart harden. It was just an infatuation. She had read, over the summer, countless love stories. But none had dealt with the obsession of forbidden love.

"Well no more of that," she said, determined. She stood up and faltered on her rubber legs. But she regained strength and held her head up high as she banged on the door of the sixth year, boys' --- room. There was no answer. She knocked again. "Open up please," she said in amazingly calm voice.

"We have to face her sometime," Harry whispered to Ron from inside. Ron looked disgusted.

"Malfoy," he hissed again.

"I know," Harry sighed. "Maybe she can explain herself.

"I knew it," Ron continued, not listening to Harry.

Harry stood up from his bed, feeling rather unclean, and opened the door very slightly to see a pair of chestnut eyes staring at him. As they looked back at him he felt himself soften despite of himself. "Hermione," he said casually.

"Let me in, please," she said, and he was annoyed by her calm.

"Why would I do that?"

"'Cause you two have slipped up countless times and I haven't turned on you."

"Tell her about that time she tried to hand us into Professor McGonagall, or when she returned Snape's wand back to him fifth year," Ron hissed from somewhere she couldn't see.

She shifted, trying to catch a glimpse of him. "Oh Ron, I could counter back much more slipups from you than that."

"Yea," Harry agreed, still not opening the door. "But none of them include Malfoy." Harry shivered inwardly at the thought of Hermione and Malfoy.

"Maybe so," she said coldly. "What about that time when you kissed Pansy Parkinson?"

"She kissed me! On a dare!" Harry said defensively, momentarily forgetting about Malfoy.

"Hermione," she heard an angry voice say. She listened as footsteps approached and the door swung out of Harry's head. Now she was looking at two angry faces, both of them her friends.

"Y-Yes?" she said in a confident voice, faltering though by mistake and she regretted it deeply inside.

"What do you want? We don't want to talk to you!"

"Isn't that a shame?" she said, taking advantage of the open door to step inside and sit down on a bed. Harry sighed and sat on another bed, but Ron was still unwilling to listen.

"Get out!" he said as if the idea of her not doing so was outrageous.

"No. Not until you forgive me."

"Why would we want to do that?" Ron growled.

"Why should we do that," Harry bettered.

"Because people make mistakes. You two might not know since that last female you've kissed was your mother, but it's very hard to break a kiss."

"My mother!" Ron said indignantly, but Harry interrupted him.

"You should be able to do it though."

"You're right, I should. And I didn't. I'm stupid and sorry."

Harry was a little taken back by her frankness, and Ron was sputtering, still angry about the jest made at his love life. "I've…I've kissed Lavender."

"She screamed!" Hermione recalled, surprised he would bring that up.

"That's just 'cause I caught her off guard."

"The way she was screaming you'd thought someone had shot her ear off."

"Are you my friend or my enemy? Maybe Malfoy's rubbing off on you."

Whatever humor was in Hermione's eyes died as they flashed and she stood up, radiating a deadly female anger. "Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Ron!"

"What, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Hermione took one step forward and slapped Ron full in the face. She realized what she had done with a dropped jaw. "R-Ron…I."

But Ron wasn't ready to forgive her. Suppressing his anger, he merely pushed her two inches back with a fuming face. "You really are turning into that little sod."

Hermione was about to tackle him, when she suddenly thought he might be right. Pushing the idea out of her mind, she regained control of herself. "It's over. And you two better forgive me in the morning.  I'm going to sleep."

"It's six thirty," Harry reminded her.

"I don't care," she said, dodging Ron and pacing out the door. Ron turned to Harry who had the same expression as him. They stared at each other for a second, and the Ron growled in anger as he realized Hermione had evaded him again.

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a/n- there's probably a lot of mistakes, that cause I don't have good conditions to right; which I finally could get around to! It's either homework or Moulin rouge