Chapter 8

Christmas couldn't have been darker for Hermione Granger as she rolled over that morning. As soon as her eyelids opened and she could readily think and recall, her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach. What a way to wake up on Christmas morning. All she could think about was being shut down by Ron last night. It didn't even seem to matter that she knew deep down in his heart somewhere he loved her too. He hadn't admitted it when she did, which made everything twice as bad. How could she face him?

Harry and Ron were making a huge racket downstairs, laughing and yelling, opening Christmas presents.

Nice to know he's as upset over this as I am, she thought bitterly. Tears sprang to her eyes once again and she rolled over to cry into her pillow.

The problem was, she couldn't.

Sitting on the pillow next to her was a large object of some kind. She lifted her head up, rubbed at her eyes and stared at what was lying next to her.

It was none other than a large, silky pink flower. It was the Fidelis.

Her mouth dropped open and she brushed the hair away from her face. Reaching over quickly to grab a hair tie, she threw her bushy locks into a messy ponytail and grabbed the flower. There was a note attached to it. She opened it and read:

'For bravery and courage standing in the face of fire.

I hope you know what this means.'

She couldn't even hold the flower any longer. It nearly dropped out of her trembling hands. She knew very well what this meant, but how was she going to let that be enough for what happened between Ron and her?

But it was the Fidelis… of course she had read all about it, even information that hadn't been mentioned in class. Ron knew what it meant. Everyone in the wizarding world regarded the gift of a Fidelis as the turning point in someone's life. This meant that they were truly bound to that person for the rest of his or her life.

Though it excited her to a point where she was barely able to speak, she still didn't know what to do about him. He had professed his love for her by giving her the flower. Yet he had chickened out in telling her to her face the night before. It wasn't as easy just to duck out of it.

Still staring at the flower, she set it down and began to dress. She had almost completely forgotten about the presents for her friends under the bed. Remembering what she had bought for Ron, it seemed to be completely overshadowed by his present to her.

Throwing on a soft red sweater, a black skirt, and her black knickers, she grabbed the flower and made her way quietly down to the common room. If she was going to face either of them, it would have to be cautiously so as not to attract much attention to herself.

She approached the entrance of the stairwell and listened as the boys talked about their hopes for the Quidditch match coming up. Pausing before entering, she mustered all the courage she could in the world. She wasn't going to say anything about the Fidelis, she was going to wait for Ron to say something to her about it. If he was that desperate to show his love for her, he would have no problem saying it out loud.

Hermione finally stepped out of the darkness of the stairway and was first spotted by Harry. The two were sitting on the couch in their pajamas, wearing the sweaters Mrs. Weasley had sent them, Ron's maroon, Harry's green. Ginny was also seated in the Room at that time. She was closer to the fire, smiling and bright as well. She was wearing a bright pink sweater that her mother had made for her.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione," Harry said cheerfully.

Ron turned bright red and looked immediately at his hands after Harry greeted her. Then he made a move to look up and saw that she was holding his flower. His heart gave a thud and his hopes rose. Could this mean…?

"Merry Christmas, Harry," she said softly, and then glanced over at Ron. He was staring intently at what was in her hand. She suddenly had no voice and proceeded to mouth the same to Ron. His eyes traveled up to meet her face where she held a neutral expression.

"What's that, Hermione?" Ginny broke in, nodding toward the flower.

"Oh," she said, breaking from a trance of some sort. She held it out for Ginny to see. "It's a Christmas present. Called a Fidelis, you'll learn about it next year."

Ginny stared at it. "Do you know who gave it to you?"

Hermione's eyes darted toward Ron quickly and oddly enough, Harry broke in to the rescue. "Hey, I got a gift for you, Hermione," he said, standing up and walking over to the tree. Hermione sat down on the floor next to Ginny and let her take the flower for a second to examine it.

Harry handed Hermione his gift. It was a long, rectangular box and she frowned in confusion as she opened it. She pulled off the lid off, and through the tissue paper she saw a large, leather bound book. This was definitely a new one.

Pulling the book out and opening it, she discovered that it was something she had never read before. It was a collection of pictures of Ron, Harry, and her. It went from their first year up to their sixth and each picture had its own unique quality and humorous background. She smiled broadly and lightly let her fingers graze over each picture, allowing the memories to flood over her.

She looked up at Harry with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she said, setting down the book and hugging Harry gently. He accepted the friendly embrace willingly as Ron cast an angry glance at the two.

"That reminds me," she said, suddenly, grabbing her book from the floor and racing up to the dorm. She set it on her bed and reached for the presents and then stared at Ron's gift. Should she give it to him after what he had given her?

Deciding that it didn't matter at that point, she carried the presents she had gotten for Harry, Ron, and Ginny down and handed them to their respective owners. Ginny looked guiltily at Hermione, commenting on how she hadn't had the time (or money) to get her anything. Hermione laughed it off. She had gotten Ginny a nice pink sweater that completely contrasted from the one her mother had always made her. It was pale in color and very soft. Ginny beamed and ran to the dorms immediately to try it on.

Harry opened his present to find that Hermione had bought him a very expensive pair of water-and-shatter-proof glasses.

"I hope those are okay," she said hastily. "I mean, I saw them and I thought you could use them for Quidditch. Plus they look like your regular glasses."

Harry took off his old pair and put on the new ones. They were perfect. "Thanks Hermione, they're wonderful!"

Ron sat on the couch placidly, Hermione's present sitting on his lap. He was staring at her so intently that he felt he could burn a whole right through her if he tried. She was acting as if nothing had happened the night before and was blowing off the flower as if it had been a bag of candy.

It rattled him so much that he forgot to open his present.

Hermione rounded on Ron and saw that he was staring at her fiercely. Her heart skipped a beat but she didn't falter. She wanted to be as civil as possible.

"Ron?"

Ron started at the sound of his name, staring into Hermione's eyes for the first time that morning. He knew for sure that she was simply covering up what she was really feeling. There was no possible way that after what she had told him the night before she could act as though it hadn't even happened the next morning.

He looked down at his gift and pulled the wrapping off slowly. He was suddenly curious about what she had gotten him. Throwing the wrapping off to the side and disregarding the Hermione's sigh at his carelessness with his trash, he opened the box his prize had come in. Hermione ducked behind the couch to grab the paper he had thrown out and as he opened it, a large gasp of amazement forced her to look up.

"Where… how… Her… how did you…?" Ron was at a lost for words.

Hermione peered over the couch and saw Ron throw on the cloak she had gotten him. He instantly disappeared.

"Where did you find one?" Harry asked, standing up and going over to the box to get a closer look.

Ron's head reappeared and Hermione gazed at him lovingly. He was in such bliss that she wanted to forget everything that had happened and allow herself to be free again. His crooked smile was back and so too the mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Hermione?" Harry called again, pulling her from her trance. She looked up at Harry and then suddenly remembered what had happened the night before, stiffening her resolve.

"Oh, yeah, well, funny thing," she said, standing up and going to toss the paper into the fire. "I was in Diagon Alley with my parents about a week before school began," she started, sitting next to the fire on the floor. "I went into the second-hand robe shop so I could pick up some dress robes and found it in the back. I recognized it because Harry had one. The shop owner had no idea what it was. Apparently the witch who turned it over had put an Anti-Muggle Charm on it so no one would know what it was and I managed to remove it with a counter curse. I thought it was brilliant."

"It is," came Ron's voice from the back of the room. He had thrown the hood on while Hermione was talking and was now testing it out.

Ginny appeared out of the stairwell. She had put on the pink sweater and tied her hair back. Harry stood up at once.

"Where's Ron?" Ginny asked, frowning.

A familiar cackling came from behind Ginny. She whipped around and backed up hurriedly. "You bought it for him?" she snapped at Hermione.

Hermione shrugged and Ron flipped his hood up. "You knew about it?"

"She told me," Ginny said offhandedly, staring at her brother as if he were crazy. She turned to Hermione and handed the flower to her.

Ron watched as Hermione grasped the flower hungrily and instantly planted it against her chest. His heart thudded crazily. Would he still have to say it to her? He had intentions of doing that anyway, but somehow watching her he lost all of his nerve. Where was that golden heart when he needed it?

"I don't feel much up to Quidditch today, Harry," Ginny said unexpectedly. Harry looked up quickly and smiled at her.

"I really didn't have intentions of doing that," he answered. "I was kind of hoping I could just relax in here all day."

Ginny smiled at Harry brightly, settling down on the floor and gazing calmly into the fire. Hermione watched as Harry joined Ginny on the floor and started to talk to her about nothing in particular. She smiled. If only things could be that simple and easy.

Looking around the common room, she didn't see Ron anywhere in sight. He was obviously having quite a bit of fun in his cloak. The silence was deafening and Hermione couldn't stand it any longer. Harry had Ginny, Ron had his cloak, and she had her thoughts. It was time for more studying.

Grasping her flower tightly against her, she made her way toward the portrait hole, scrambled out quickly, and left the other three to their own devices.

Still in his cloak, Ron sat in the back of the room quietly. It was a good thing he had it on, because the last thing he wanted Hermione to see the sullen, depressed way he stared at her while tears flooded his cheeks. He had never cried so much in his life. There were those instances in which he'd felt physical pain and had to let it out, but he had never cried to alleviate emotional anguish.

Now he had to. It was no use just letting it brew up inside of him when it was so obvious that he had to let go of all of it. He had to face his pain.

It hurt that Hermione had said nothing about the flower. Did she not realize what it meant for him to give that to her? He recalled the night before and how badly he felt as he sat outside of the door and listened to her sob. He felt completely immobilized, like all he could do was sit there and wait… wait… wait until she was done crying. Would she ever be done crying? She had poured her entire heart out to him and in turn he had gotten scared and run away from her.

He loved her, he loved her so much that it made him choke up all inside. He couldn't be happy without her. He didn't know what he would do if he lost her. He wanted to burst into that room and tell her he was wrong. He was wrong to back away from her. He was in love, head over heels. But how could he just take back all of what he had said before and expect her to take him in?

That was when the idea to give her the flower had come into his head. He didn't have a Christmas present for her, and the flower had been sitting by his bed day in and day out. It was waiting to be given to someone. He didn't know why the answer hadn't come to him sooner. It should have been so obvious. Everything Professor Sprout had said to him came back:

'I may be just an old witch who deals with herbs and plants, but I know my intuition is never wrong. You give that flower to the one special person who deserves it from you for Christmas.'

He had been in love with Hermione from the very beginning and even the Herbology teacher had seen it… no wonder she had asked him to perform the charm. It was inevitable.

But how would he ever get Hermione to realize that? Didn't Professor Sprout tell him to give the golden heart to her as well? How could he? It was his only defense; it made him strong around her. How could he give it to her?

Instead, he had snuck into her room after he knew she was finished crying, given her the flower, and attached the note. She would definitely know what it meant. She would come tearing down the stairs and into his arms, and he would finally be the happiest man in the world.

Yet she had come down the stairs, holding the flower like it was the most precious gift in the world (which it was) and saying nothing. She hadn't even look at him and it broke his heart. And then the cloak.

She had always known he'd wanted an invisibility cloak after Harry had gotten one. She'd also known how unbelievably rare they were. She had seen the cloak and immediately thought of him. That had to count for something. He loved it and couldn't think of anything he would rather have gotten.

Except for one thing of course, and that something couldn't be bought.

Taking off the cloak, reappearing, and tossing it to the side, he ran straight out of the common room unnoticed. He knew exactly where Hermione had gone.

Upon entering the library, he was shocked to hear it so quiet. Even though Madam Pince usually stressed silence throughout her precious sanctuary, there was never actually a table of students who remained quiet. During the holidays though, it always seemed like the entire school was eerily empty, even though he mostly enjoyed it.

Settled by a back table, Hermione was hidden behind a stack of books and he guessed she had done it purposely. She was obviously working on one of the many assignments she claimed she needed to get done.

He crept noiselessly toward her and sat down without causing her head to raise up at all.

Finally he spoke and broke the silence.

"What did you think of your flower?"

Hermione started at the sound of his voice, spilling ink all over the place. She groaned loudly. "Ronald Weasley! Look what you did! Now I have to start on this stupid thing all over! It got on my notes! I can't believe how careless you are."

Red flushed over his face as he mumbled a, "Sorry." She moved her books around and with a flick of her wand the mess was gone.

"What do you want?" she said, sitting down to begin again.

"I wanted to know what you thought of the flower… I mean you came downstairs and didn't even say anything about it… or talk to me."

Hermione groaned again and reached for the flower. "It's lovely, Ron," she said tonelessly.

Ron blinked. "It's a Fidelis."

"I'm aware of that."

"Are you stupid?"

Hermione slammed her quill down and stared at Ron's unhappy blue eyes. "What did you expect of me Ronald? What did you want me to do?"

Ron didn't miss the fact that Hermione had used his full name more than once in the same conversation.

"I… I just thought that maybe after everything last night, you'd understand…"

"What would I understand? That after I swallowed my pride to tell you what I told you, I should just accept this after you ran out on me? I cried for almost—"

"Four hours," Ron finished for her. Hermione looked shocked. "I was at the door… I know because I cried that long as well."

Hermione was finally shocked into silence. Never would she have imagined that Ron Weasley, so strong, so stable… would have cried right along with her.

"Why do you think I gave you that flower?" he asked her.

"I don't think it's right that I stood in front of you, baring it all, and then you just expect it to be okay for you to hide behind a present."

Ron blinked. "So it had been for nothing? I stared at that flower for a week, wondering why Professor Sprout had given it to me, just to have you not realize what it meant?"

"Oh I realize," she screamed at him, standing up. "I REALIZE! I didn't wake up this morning, find that flower and toss it aside. I sat there for almost ten minutes trying to figure out where to go. I know what you thought. You expected me to fly down the stairs into your arms didn't you?" Ron looked away guiltily. "Ron, it doesn't work that way. Not after the ego crushing you gave me last night."

Ron felt his eyes flood with tears again. Hermione continued. "I don't know what you expected of me, Ron. You didn't respond to me and I knew you wanted to. I saw it in your eyes, I know you love me, but I need to hear you say it. I don't know how much longer I can wait."

Ron shot up like a cork. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything. You know how long I've waited for you to say what you said to me? I expected to say it back and be all fine and dandy, but then you actually said it and it scared me. I didn't know what to think. I was terrified. I don't want to fall in love with you, be with you, and then lose you. I don't think I'd be able to handle it. There's no me without you."

Hermione listened as his voice quavered. She stepped from behind the other side of the table and stood close to Ron. "Then say it, Ron."

"What?"

"Say it!"

Ron felt himself shaking all over at the reality of Hermione being so close to him. He could feel her body heat and he could easily peer down onto her face, into her large brown eyes. Her skin looked so soft, her hair so beautiful, her tender cherry lips were so close to his skin that he started to sweat on the spot. Being this close to her was dangerous to his health.

"If you love me, then say it."

Ron couldn't. He had forgotten how to move his mouth; he didn't know how to talk. He was sure that his throat had dried out from all the sweat pouring from his hands and forehead at that time. She was close, pursing her lips up at him expectantly, waiting… waiting.

"I… I…"

"I don't know what you want me to do if you don't say it," Hermione whispered longingly as her eyes closed.

Ron slowly craned his neck down to meet her face. Could this be it? Did this mean that finally, after all that crying, after all of his instability, he would finally have the one thing he wanted most in the world, Hermione's heart?

"I… I…" he repeated, this time softer and slower.

"Say it," she said.

Their lips half an inch from touching, he whispered, "I can't."

The moment was broken and Hermione stepped away, angry. "Then there's no way I can kiss you like this."