Chapter 3: Hermione's heart A/N: This chapter goes back a bit in time to give a bit of Hermione's point of view.

It was late. She knew that. She should have been in bed. Well she had been in bed, but there really was not any point in staying in bed if she could not sleep, and she definitely could not. So Hermione had come down to the common room. At least if she wasn't going to get any sleep she could get some more reading in. It usually helped relax her mind. Usually.But not tonight. She realized she had read the current page four times and still did not have the vaguest idea what is said.

It was all his fault. That red head had been the source of more then a few sleepless nights for her, not that he knew it. Not like he would ever lose any sleep over her. No, he was probably sleeping like a rock. She bit her lip. She actually hoped he was sleeping like a rock, because that would mean he was okay. And she just needed to know that Ron was okay.

Nobody else in the world could make her so frustrated and at the same time so worried. Nobody. On one hand she was upset with him for being a stupid prat, overreacting and getting himself hurt. On the other hand she couldn't sleep because she was so concerned about him. She sighed running her fingers through her long curly locks. Her relationship with Ron Weasley was the single most maddening aspect of her personal life, and yet she knew, at least at night when she was by alone and being honest with herself, that as maddening as it may have been, she would be lost without it.without him.

Of course, he must be okay now. She had snuck over to the hospital wing just to check on him and he had not been there, so obviously he was well enough to be released. So why couldn't she sleep? An image of Ron writhing on the ground in pain and then not moving at all flashed in her mind making her entire body stiffen. Damn that Malfoy for hitting Ron with that horrible paralysis spell. If he had not been throwing up slugs and she had not been so concerned about Ron, she would have cursed him into oblivion herself. When Ron had stopped moving it had felt like her heart had stopped for a few moments. The image flashed in her mind again and she had to shake herself slightly to make it go away. Enough of this! Ron was okay. Even though Madame Pomfrey would not let her and Harry see him, she had assured them that Ron would be fine after some treatment. The logical thing was just to go bed and check on him in the morning, and yet, sleep would not come. Hermione gave up on the page she was attempting to read and decided to switch to another book, reaching down to grab it off the floor.

A crackle from the large fire as another log magically appeared and began burning caught her attention. The flames were mesmerizing. It was warm and comforting. The orange, red and blue flames danced and twisted about wildly. It reminded her of him. She saw Ron's image whizzing by her during quidditch practice, his red hair and blue eyes combining with the orange of his Cannons sweatshirt as he streaked by. He was slowing down and grinning at her. That playful grin that lit up his eyes and made every freckle stand out. She loved that grin. She loved him. Even if he was a reckless infuriating git.

Another log crackled and sparked in the fire causing the flames to shift and making her image of Ron vanish. She pressed the back of her palms to her cheeks. Being so close to the fire had made her skin quite warm (Or from thinking about Ron for so long). She pulled herself up to her knees undoing the belt of her dressing gown and sliding it off her shoulders. She settled back into read and smiled as her fingers ran over the material of her orange Cannons t-shirt. Her lucky shirt. Okay, it was not technically her t-shirt. In fact, it really was not her shirt at all, but she had sort of borrowed it.for an undetermined amount of time.

When she had stayed at the burrow over the summer Ron had loaned it to her when they had all gone to a Cannon's match. Ron had insisted it was bad luck not to wear a Cannon's shirt to a match. (His crazy luck potential theory). She had worn it over her tank top and it had just about come down past her knees. She could still hear Mrs. Weasley scolding Ron for giving her what she described as a 'terrible hole-infested rag' to wear. But Hermione didn't think it was too terrible. In fact, she had liked it so much she had forgotten to give it back.

She rubbed the thin faded orange material between her fingers. She had mended some of the larger rips but all in all it was still the same ruddy shirt. There was something about it she liked. It was familiar and comfortable and kind of just felt like Ron. She could tie up one side and wear it normally or leave it at its full length and literally pull her entire body inside it, cocooning herself in it. She'd give it back to him.one of these days.

Hermione felt a bit better and started reading again. She would see Ron in the morning. However, she didn't get too far as a loud commotion and what sounded like someone yelping in pain came from the common room entrance to the boy's dorms. Hermione jumped about a mile off the couch, grabbing her wand and pointing it in the direction of the sound. Her eyes went wide as she saw the familiar form of Ronald Weasley sprawled out on his back on the floor. Speak of the devil.

A/N: thank you for the reviews! They make my day!!! ( I promise there is a massage eventually.