Chapter 3

It was now the Friday before everyone left for Christmas break, and even though student apathy was at its height, classes remained as strict as they ever had. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had begun to talk excitedly about Christmas plans, but Hermione still hadn't mentioned that she would be staying. She couldn't pinpoint the reason why.

During Herbology, however, Harry sat staring at the two suspiciously just in case they turned any more colors. After learning about the flower, he still didn't understand why Ron and Hermione had acted so strangely about it.

Lunch came, and most of what was a usual study time for the students was actually a full out social hour. Seamus Finnigan was loudly talking about the candy he usually got from his parents to his friend Dean Thomas, who was countering that with the gags he could normally find under his tree from Zonko's shop in Hogsmeade.

Ron grunted and turned to his pumpkin juice. "I bet I'll get one of those sweaters again," he said sullenly.

"Me too," Harry said, and Ron felt better as he smirked at his friend.

"Well, it's the thought that counts," Hermione stated.

"What are you planning to do for Christmas, Hermione?" Ron asked her. "You haven't told us one bit."

She shrugged. "It hasn't been worked out yet." Why am I lying?

"It's just too bad you're not staying with us," Harry said, and Ron nudged him hard in the ribs. "OW! What?"

Hermione stared at Ron fiercely and Harry could feel the fight ensuing. "Yes, what was that for?"

Ron's eyes widened and then he shook his head so vigorously that his long ginger hair slapped him in the face. "Nothing, nothing. Why would it be anything?"

Hermione said nothing, but remained tight-lipped all through lunch. Ron knew he had to keep his mouth shut and his elbows to himself if he was going to maintain civil conversation with Hermione.

They said nothing to each other as they headed into Transfiguration.

"I will tell you this as I have always told you in the past," Professor McGonagall barked at them that cold Friday morning. "It may be your last day before Christmas break, but that does not mean I will allow you to become careless in your studies. We will be reviewing how to turn your animals into furniture, your pens into silverware, and your books into dishes so as we don't forget over break."

The whole class gave a collective groan but proceeded to pick up their wands agreeably. As Professor McGonagall reminded them of the incantations they would need to perform their transfiguring, the students did the opposite of what they were told to do, and became distracted.

"Harry," Ron whispered, pointing his wand at his book of Magical Drafts and Potions.

"What?" he whispered back.

"I think I've forgotten the words for the animal transfiguration," he said guiltily.

Hermione sighed. "Really," she whispered and wrote down sloppily in Ron's copy of Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7, 'Cella.'

He wrote back to her and pushed his book to her so she could read it: 'Thanks.'

She only nodded, turning back to her large pile of books that had now become an attractive set of china dishes. Ron smirked jealously, but managed to turn two of his pens into halfway decent spoons. Harry was having a hard time turning his black plates back into his books.

After being dismissed from Transfiguration, the group headed for the Great Hall, with Hermione once again, remaining silent. Ron was puzzled.

"Hermione, is there something¾"

But before he could finish, Professor McGonagall had breezed past them with a list in her hands. Hermione had gone pale. Ron opened his mouth to speak but Hermione walked past him quickly with her head down. He looked at Harry and in turn Harry only shrugged his shoulders curiously.

They took their seats at the table, setting their books down and reaching for food immediately. McGonagall was now walking from the end of the table down, asking who was staying for break and who wasn't.

"You're still staying, right?" Harry asked Ron cautiously.

Ron laughed. "Of course! I don't lie," he said, casting a glance quickly at Hermione, who in turn blushed.

"Potter, Weasley, I assume you'll be staying for the holidays," she said, jotting their names down quickly.

They nodded, grabbing biscuits from the center of the table and putting them on their plates. McGonagall peered out the top of her glasses and stared at Hermione. "Miss Granger? Are you accompanying these gentlemen?"

The boys smirked at each other and Hermione nodded sullenly. "All right. Your parents sent an owl ahead to warn me you might change your mind."

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione questioningly as McGonagall moved on. She was looking down at her plate, picking at her food absentmindedly.

Ron frowned at her. "Why didn't you tell us you were staying with us?"

She shrugged. "I don't really know why I didn't say anything."

"You could have told us," Harry said quietly.

She nodded. "I know."

Ron was still frowning at her. "Why didn't you say anything? That was stupid of you!"

Hermione's eyes blazed as Harry nudged Ron hard in the ribs. "What! She could have told us!"

"Ron, cut it out! Everything was going fine for a minute there," Harry whispered.

"Well, I'm sorry," Hermione sharply put in. "But I just didn't get around to telling you. Did you really think I was trying to hide something? Honestly! We are sixteen years old, gentlemen. I think you have to give me more credit for being bigger than that."

The guys looked at each other and nodded but Ron still frowned at Hermione. "Well, you don't have to bite my head off about it!"

"RON!" Harry yelled exasperatedly.

"WELL!"

"WHAT?"

There was silence at the Gryffindor table as all the heads turned to look at Ron and Hermione. The two were on their feet now, leaning over the table, glaring into each other's eyes. Harry sat below Ron, shaking his head, completely mortified.

"YOU'RE BEING SO RUDE LATELY!" Ron shouted, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "What am I supposed to think?"

"You're not supposed to think ANYTHING!" she yelled back. "Why is it SO important to you to know? WHY do you care so much about me being so RUDE? It's ALWAYS been this way, Ron," and with an extra crack in her voice, she said, "it will ALWAYS be that way."

All he could do was stare as the young woman he had known as so stable and so carefree fall apart. Her words may have said one thing but her face completely contradicted that.

"What is going on here?" Professor McGonagall was storming back into the Hall, still clutching the sheet and obviously very perturbed. "Weasley, Granger? Explanations!"

They looked down at the table and stuttered quickly. "Well?" she spat angrily. "Please! I'd like to know why you're standing here shouting at each other and disturbing the other students. There must be some valid explanation and I want to hear it!"

Neither of them spoke. "If I don't get an explanation right now I'm deducting five points from Gryffindor."

Harry jumped up automatically. "Professor, they were just having an argument and it got to be a little too heated, you see…"

"Potter, you weren't involved. Sit down and be quiet." Harry did as he was told.

Hermione cleared her throat and said in a squeaky voice. "I'm sorry, Professor, we were arguing and didn't realize how loud we were until you said something. We shouldn't have been yelling at each other."

This seemed to satisfy McGonagall. She stared at them intently for a few minutes and then said, "Very well. Don't let it happen again."

Watching her storm off, Hermione felt hot tears stinging at her eyes. Oh no, she thought to herself. This can't be happening. Why am I suddenly feeling the urge to cry?

Packing up her stuff quickly, Hermione bolted from the Great Hall, her head down and her books pressed tightly up against her chest. Ron watched her leave, still not sitting down. He looked at Harry curiously. He in turn jerked his head toward the door.

Ron ran out of the Great Hall as the entire Gryffindor table turned to watch him. As soon as he was out of earshot, the chatter arose so loudly that Professor McGonagall had to come back in.

Certain of where she was headed, Ron started for the direction of the library and sure enough, as soon as he entered he saw a wisp of brown hair fly behind a shelf of books. Ignoring a nasty look from Madam Pince for running in the library, he hurried after Hermione.

He rounded the corner and stopped before going to talk to her. He was sure he heard her crying. Sobs, sniffles, and short sighs came from behind the books, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to go talk to her while she was crying.

He had to get out of there. If she was crying because of him, he wouldn't be able to look her in the face. The amount of guilt that would consume him would be enormous.

"Oh geez!" came a voice from behind Ron. He spun around to see Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff sixth year directly behind him. "Watch where you're going, Ron, you almost knocked me over!"

As Justin said Ron's name, he could hear a small gasp behind him. His spirits deflated. The sound of a chair slamming into a table could be heard and the next thing he knew, Ron had been yanked aside.

"What do you think you're playing at?" Hermione yelled angrily.

"What… I… er… well…"

"Don't you ever sneak up on me again! Do you hear me? EVER!" She was almost in tears she was so angry, and it didn't surprise Ron at all. She had been crying only seconds before.

"Hermione, Hermione!" he said calmly to her.

She was waving her hands frantically, exploding about the rights of privacy she should have had and that after storming out of the Hall he should have gotten the point. Ron, almost in tears of his own, caught her hands. "Hermione," he said once again, this time with a desperate ring to his voice.

She stopped and stared at him. "Ron."

They held hand for what seemed like ages. In some way there was a peace radiating from the two of them after they had touched tenderly for the first time.

"I heard you crying," he whispered.

She tried to back away quickly, but Ron held desperately to her hands. "I don't know what to think anymore, Hermione."

"What do you mean?" she asked, looking away from him.

"I… just… I…"

Hermione sighed, wanting to pull away, but again Ron clung to her. In his own mind, it seemed like a demented idea, but he was sure that if they kept a strong hold to each other, they wouldn't fight.

Her cheeks were still stained with tears. "Why do you provoke me? I've cried too many times to care anymore."

His eyes flashed pain and he said quietly, "I can't help it."

"Why not?" she asked briskly, not missing a beat. "Why can't you watch what you say, or be nicer about the way you choose to speak to me? You're not like that with Lavender or Parvati! Only me! What's so wrong with me? Why can't you just speak to me like a civilized person?"

She was becoming frantic again, and Ron started to panic, holding onto her with all of his might.

"Ron, let me go!" she demanded.

"No! Not until you talk to me! Tell me why you're crying, please, I want to know!" he yelled at her.

"You really want to know? You really want to know!" she yelled.

"Yes!"

"YOU!"

The library became silent and they could hear Madam Pince storm toward them, whispering acidly, "Will you two please be quiet back here?"

They nodded solemnly as Madam Pince turned away in a huff.

After she had left, Ron asked, "What are you talking about? Me?"

"Yes, you. Did it ever occur to you how much we fight? Did it ever seem strange that we only fight like this with each other?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "That's how it's always been."

Hermione groaned inwardly. "Well, it can't be that way anymore. I'm getting sick of it."

Ron didn't know how to react to that comment. "I don't know how to just stop it…"

Hermione pulled away again, this time successfully. Ron was so shaken that he had a hard time grasping for support. Standing almost three feet away from him, Hermione looked as though she were on the verge of a total emotional breakdown. She stared at him pitifully and it was obvious all over her face that she wanted to be close to him again, but couldn't.

"Then I can't handle this anymore."

Hermione turned and fled the library before Ron had a chance to respond. The entire place was once again silent as the fight slid to a halt. Ron felt immobilized. He couldn't make his legs run to catch up with her. All he could do was let the words sink in.

I can't handle this anymore.

Echoing in his ears as he stood there, staring at the place where she had just stood, thoughts ran through his head. He found his hand reaching into his pocket, and the treasure he found there confused him.

It was the golden heart that Professor Sprout had given him. He had taken the Fidelis up to his dorm and hid it from view of anyone else. He had forgotten about the heart.

Pieces started to click into place, but there were still some missing. He was determined to sort it out and place it before his time with Hermione ran out.