The students returned on Sunday, and classes resumed the day after that. By then Hermione was well enough to leave the infirmary, and her little misadventure didn't cause her to miss a beat with schoolwork.

But she appeared to be the only one getting back into the swing of things. Harry and Ron were acting oddly, indeed. Apart from mealtimes, she hadn't seen Ron for more than two minutes at a time at any point over the past week. He didn't seek her out, anymore, not even for help with homework. When she happened upon him somewhere, or went looking for him, he seemed on edge and had trouble meeting her eyes. He always quickly came up with reasons to leave; all of them sounded like excuses to Hermione. In class, he no longer goofed off, whispering with her and Harry. Instead, he studiously avoided her questioning glances and remained almost obsessively focused on the lessons. Hermione knew she should be thrilled that he was finally paying attention to the lectures, but the achievement felt hollow.

Even at mealtimes he was unusually quiet, no longer laughing and joking with his friends about their day, about Quidditch starting up again soon, or the antics they'd pulled in Divination. Instead he ate quietly, eyes on his food, and left immediately after finishing. Worse, every time Hermione tried to talk to him, to engage him and discover the root of his behavior, he grew more withdrawn.

Case in point: at breakfast this morning, Hermione had received an owl from Viktor Krum with the post. Despite herself, she was actually glad to see the letter attached to the owl's leg, if for no other reason than it would make Ron angry. Though she hated fighting with him, at least if Ron were angry with her, there'd be some emotion she could work with. She didn't know how to handle this silent, introspective Ron who had taken the place of her witty, fun-loving friend.

Hermione quickly snatched the rolled parchment from the impressively tufted owl and turned toward Ron, a lofty retort to his accusations already forming on her lips. But his expression stopped her cold.

For a moment – a moment only – there'd been a flicker of something in his eyes. When he caught sight of the seal on the scroll in her hands, Ron blanched, and in his eyes she'd seen…desolation? Hopelessness? A moment later, however, he had wiped his face of all expression, and Hermione couldn't be sure she'd seen anything at all.

Utterly dumbfounding her, Ron rose, abandoning over half of his breakfast. "I'm done," he said to his friends. "I've uh…got that Potions homework to do. See you later."

With that, Ron turned and walked out of the dining hall. Hermione immediately turned to Harry, knowing that her mouth was gaping open in astonishment, but unable to wrest control of herself to close it. "Ron, doing homework on a Saturday morning? Long before it's due? After not finishing his breakfast?" she said unbelievingly. "What is going on, here?" she finally demanded. "And don't look at me like you've no idea what I'm talking about, because you're a horrible liar, and I've seen the way you're making excuses for him, and trying to distract me from going after him to find out what's wrong."

Harry, who had just been opening his mouth to make another excuse for Ron, snapped it shut quickly. Hermione was right. He'd been trying all week to keep them apart, knowing how much it pained Ron to be near her since she'd lost the memory of their time together in the forest. But Hermione was anything but a stupid girl, and he wasn't really surprised to learn that she'd caught on to them.

Now he floundered, trying to figure out what he should do. As much as he wished he could just fix this for them, and as much as he privately believed Hermione should know the truth about what happened, it wasn't his place to tell her. Finally, he said lamely, "You know how Professor Snape is. We all have to work twice as hard just to be considered as good as the Slytherins."

Harry knew she could see the falsehood on his face, but there was nothing he could do differently.

Hermione shook her head, knowing that he knew she was aware it was a lie. This was ridiculous. What was going on?!

With determination, Hermione rose from the table, slamming her utensils down and startling Harry. "Where are you going?" he wanted to know.

"After Ron," Hermione said heatedly. "Whatever this is, it's gone on long enough. I'm going to find him and make him tell me why he's been avoiding me."

Harry fumbled to rise, trying too quickly to maneuver his long legs out from under the table. "Hermione…wait," he called, but she didn't. Hair flouncing behind her, Hermione left the dining room with long, purposeful strides.

At least, if she'd been taller her strides would have been long and purposeful. As it was, they were quick and jerky, hence the flouncing.

Nevertheless, Hermione turned a deaf ear on her friend, and quickly mounted the stairs leading up to the Gryffindor tower. With satisfaction, she noted that the uppermost staircase moved away from the landing after she reached the top. Good…that would delay Harry a bit more.

She caught up with Ron just in front of the portrait hole. He'd been about to speak the password and gain admittance to the common room, but Hermione's breathless arrival startled him. To Hermione's dismay, she saw that it also evoked the same reaction in him that she'd been seeing all week. His eyes darted away from her, looking anywhere else, and his expression was carefully neutral.

Deciding that this couldn't really get much worse, Hermione opted to skip all forms of pretense and just dive right in. "What have I done?" she demanded.

She at least had the satisfaction of seeing him react with surprise…he frowned, shaking his head a little as if he didn't understand. "What do you mean?" he asked. "You haven't done anything."

"Then why are you avoiding me?" Hermione wanted to know. "You haven't spoken to me all week, you can't seem to stomach being in the same room with me, and you can barely stand to look at me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron said weakly, looking at the spot of floor next to Hermione's shoe.

"You're doing it right now, Ron." Hermione pointed out, unable to hide the hurt his denial was causing in her.

With effort, Ron raised his gaze to meet Hermione's. He trembled a little inside, and tried with everything he had to keep it from showing. Merlin, it was difficult being this close to her, with this secret between them. Difficult not to touch her, to reassure her. Difficult not to confess everything and beg her to love him again.

Ron cleared his throat. "You haven't done anything," he finally said again, unable to say anything else.

Hermione watched him, but her calculation was gone, now. She couldn't figure out what was eating at him, and he wouldn't tell her. All she knew was that it was hurting them both, and damaging their friendship. Feeling that she was losing something, here, without ever having been aware that she possessed it, Hermione said desperately, "Then what's wrong between us?" Seeing the look on his face, she hurried to speak first, "Don't tell me nothing, because I know there is. You've been…off, all week. And God knows it's not the first time you've gone awhile without speaking to me, but usually we at least have an argument first, and I know why you don't want to talk to me, and I can feel appropriately sorry or be angry back at you, but…"

Now, Ron was alarmed to see a sheen of tears in her eyes, as she got worked up. Clearly, she was attempting to retain her composure, but he could see how much this was all hurting her. She went on, "But the thing is, you don't even seem to be angry, you just don't want to be anywhere near me. And the only thing I can think of is that I did something wrong."

Ron clenched his jaw, closing his eyes against the pain on her face. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't tell her the truth, but he hadn't known not telling her would hurt her this way.

He opened his eyes again, looking at her resolutely. There was only one thing he could do: tell her why he'd been so 'off'. He also needed to convince her that it had nothing to do with her, because he couldn't stand to see her like this. He also didn't think he could survive another confrontation like this between them.

And so he told her the truth…sort of.

"You're right," he started, "something's been wrong with me this week. But it's not your fault," he said quickly, impressing the absolute truth of that upon her with his clear, blue eyes. He needed her to believe that above everything. "I've just been down. See I…I was…there was someone I was…in love with," he finally managed, unable to look her in the eyes for this part and hoping that she'd interpret it as embarrassment. "Still am, actually," he continued quietly, unable to mask the loss in his voice, "but it's over, and I…I can't get her back. So I've just been..."

Ron trailed off, not knowing how to finish his partial confession. When he could look at her again, he saw that he wouldn't have to. All of the fight had gone out of her; his revelation seemed to have sucked all of the wind out of her sails, and she stood slumped before him, looking numb. "Oh," she said quietly, and now it was she who couldn't meet his eyes.

"I see," Hermione said, but she didn't. She hadn't had any idea that Ron was involved with someone. And she was surprised by how much it hurt, on so many levels.

She was too devastated to ask him who the girl was, and he didn't volunteer the information. They stood there for a long, shattered moment, painfully aware of each other, hurting because of the distance between them. But neither of them could see a way beyond it, now. There was no discernable way back to go back to who they'd been before this moment.

Finally, Ron turned to leave. He had to, before he broke down and told her more. Before she could look up at him with the tears he knew were in her eyes, and melt his resolve.

"Mellon," Ron mumbled, and entered the common room when the portrait opened.

Left alone in the corridor, Hermione's eyes quickly overfilled, spilling fat tears down her cheeks. She watched silently as Ron let the portrait close shut behind him without a backward glance. Unable to meet the Fat Lady's sympathetic eyes, Hermione turned on her heel, prepared to flee to…somewhere. Anywhere! She just had to get away.

She didn't get very far, however…she hadn't gone three steps before she ran into Harry, who had finally caught up with her.

Too late, he saw immediately. He hadn't been able to prevent a confrontation, and her stricken expression told him it hadn't gone well at all. He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to stop. "What's wrong?" he asked, needing to know.

Hermione couldn't keep being strong. It was one thing to not let Ron see her cry, when he was the one who was hurting her, but she couldn't keep up her resolve in the face of Harry's concern. She broke down in his arms. "Ron…Ron's in love with someone," she wept. "Some girl."

Harry couldn't have been more surprised. "What?" he asked, befuddled. What had Ron told her?

"That's what he said," Hermione said, her breath hitching in great gasps as she tried to force the words out between the sobs. "He's in love with some girl, but it's over now, and he can't get her back."

Harry was disconcerted by Hermione's obvious distress. Though he knew – from what Ron told him – that Hermione had confessed to loving Ron when they were in the forest together, he'd never really seen a hint of that emotion from her toward their friend before. This was the first evidence he'd seen that proved she really did love him, other than her delirious declaration in the infirmary, and it stunned him a little. "I never knew you felt this strongly about him," he was startled into saying.

Hermione stepped back when he released her, and kept stepping back until her back hit the wall. She stayed there, unable to retreat any further, covering her face with her hands as if she could block out the last five minutes…block out the world. She breathed a huge, shuddering sigh, trying to control herself. "I could never work up the nerve to tell him," she explained, still not looking at him. "You know how Ron is, he's not the most emotionally aware person in the world. At least…I thought he wasn't…"

She stopped when it hit her that maybe she didn't know Ron as well as she'd thought. After all, if he'd been able to progress into a relationship with this other girl, and successfully keep all knowledge of it from his friends…he couldn't possibly be as clueless about feelings and relating them as she'd previously thought. The realization hurt nearly as much as the idea of Ron with someone else, and she battled fresh grief.

"I was afraid of endangering our friendship," she said now, her voice small and pained. "Too afraid to take a chance. And now he's in love with this…this…girl, and there's no chance at all for us, anymore. If…if there ever even was…"

She trailed off, the painful self-doubt in her expression bothering Harry. This wasn't right, it couldn't be. How could this be the right way, with Ron miserable because he couldn't have Hermione, and Hermione miserable because she thought Ron didn't want her?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Harry opened his mouth, the truth on the tip of his tongue. But before he could speak, Hermione was suddenly railing at him.

"And I never even knew!" she exploded, her angst transforming into anger in the blink of an eye. "I never suspected…I never had any idea he was in love with someone. And he kept it from me, he never told me."

She whirled back to Harry. "Did you know?" she demanded.

"Um," Harry stalled. He tried quickly to summon an answer that would bring him the least amount of trouble, but the pause was too long, and she guessed the truth.

"You knew, too," she said. "You both kept this from me." Hurt mingled with her newfound rage. She tried to swallow the bitter ball of betrayal that was lodged in her throat.

Now Harry felt like he must defend Ron. After all, he thought his friend was being rather noble about all of this, if a little misguided, and it was hard to watch Hermione be angry at what she perceived to be Ron's betrayal. And Harry's, for that matter. A little annoyed now, despite himself, Harry started, "Hermione, stop. This isn't what you think."

"Oh no?" Hermione asked him hotly. "Then what is it?"

Harry suddenly realized that he was about to break Ron's trust, and shut his mouth. Hermione stared at him, waiting for an answer. When she realized one wasn't forthcoming, she suddenly lost the grip she was trying so hard to maintain on her anger, and slid back into despair.

Harry watched in horror as her face fell, and cursed inwardly when she started crying again. Bloody hell, how was he supposed to keep secrets from her when she was looking all hurt and vulnerable like that? He had no defense against crying girls, for pity's sake. It didn't help that he had already been on the verge of telling her the truth. Now her tears flooded the already crumbling fortress of his resolve, and he gave in.

"Hermione," he started again. "Listen to me. This really isn't what you think. I can't believe I'm telling you this…I promised I wouldn't, but this can't be the right way…it's killing you both."

Hermione sniffed miserably. "What are you talking about?"

Harry sighed, committed now. "What I'm saying is yes, Ron was in love with someone. And yes, he still loves her. But it's not just some girl, Hermione…it's you."

Hermione wiped the tears from her face, trembling and angry that Harry was trying to make her feel better through such an untrue statement. "Obviously, you have no idea what you're talking about," she replied. "I just told you that he said he was in a relationship with her, and it's over. Ron and I were never together."

Harry took a deep breath, sending out a silent plea for forgiveness to Ron. "Yes," he said, "you were."

.