Chapter 2
The Wrath of Ron?
Ouch.
Hermione slowly came around, trying to ignore the dull, throbbing pain in her head. She was immediately confused about her surroundings. For some reason, she was still sprawled behind the Gryffindor changing rooms, but now it was night. Pitch black.
A chill swept over her as she realised she was alone. Where was everyone? Harry and Ron? Why didn't they come?
She caught sight of that stupid bag of sweets which had started all this off. It lay innocently at her feet, entirely wasp-free.
Wait. Entirely?
Not quite.
Hermione watched in fascinated horror as a giant wasp gradually emerged from the bag. Its body was about the size of a rugby ball and each leg was the length of a wand, and was lined with thick, black, spiky hairs. The angry yellow stripes on its body seemed to glare right at her, and, as she watched, the hideous specimen turned slowly to face her.
She could only lie there, petrified. She could not move, nor could she speak.
Now it was the wasp's eyes and not its shocking yellow body that bored into her. The throbbing in her head grew worse and her vision went blurry. She blinked, and everything came into focus again. But the wasp was gone. In its place stood .....
Ron.
He glared down at her, the ferociousness in his eyes the exact same as the wasp's. She cowered inwardly. This was a punishment for eavesdropping. He was livid with her. He was never going to talk to her again. She tried to cry out as he turned and began to walk away, but the pain in her head exploded once more -
"Hermione! Hermione!"
She was writhing and wriggling, she needed to try and shout to Ron, try to reason with him, she couldn't let him walk away like that - but someone was holding her down, shouting her name, she was being restricted by something that felt like bed sheets......
......bed sheets?
Hermione let her body go limp and she opened her eyes slowly. Everything was blurry. She winced as bright light flooded in. Closing her eyes again to block out the blinding whiteness, she heard a familiar voice.
".... she just went mad Madam Pomfrey, I tried to hold her down but I think she was having some kind of nightmare. Didn't know she had that much strength in her...."
Harry.
With Harry usually came Ron. She did not particularly want to open her eyes again for the blinding light which flooded into them, but she had to see if Ron was in the hospital wing too, she had to, she /i to...
She opened them just a crack this time and she saw a blurry outline of Madam Pomfrey fussing with the sheets. She blinked and everything came into proper focus as her head stopped hurting slightly. Her eyes fell on Harry, who was sitting to her right, watching her concernedly. The chair next to him was empty. No Ron.
"Now dear, how are you feeling?" said Madam Pomfrey, "It's Friday morning and you've been unconscious for the last two days, so - "
"Two days?" Hermione said incredulously. Her voice was croaky. "Two days? What schoolwork have I missed? Was there a lot? Oh, I don't believe this....." She began to panic and the pain in her head returned sharply.
"Don't worry, Hermione," said Harry, quickly, "We took some notes for you, and I think you're ahead anyway - "
"Who's 'we'?" said Hermione, "You mean you and Ron?" Her voice rose an octave higher as she said his name, remembering the way he had glared at her in her dream.
"Yeah - well... yeah, something like that,"
Madam Pomfrey seemed to sense that the two students needed a proper talk, so she set a goblet next on the table next to Hermione's bed and told her to drink from it whenever the pain in her head came back. With that, she retreated quietly into her office.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Harry stared at his feet. Hermione was bursting with questions. In the end, she lumped them all into one:
"What happened and where's Ron?"
Harry looked up. It was a few moments before he answered. "We're not sure exactly what happened, Hermione. Maybe you'd know more than we do. But last night after the match, me and Ron were coming out of the changing rooms and we heard this - this gasp from somewhere. We weren't sure exactly where it came from but it sounded like you. Then we heard a sort of buzzing then this thump from behind the changing rooms. We ran round the back and we - we found you just lying there with a bag of sweets in front of you and an old broomstick behind you. And - and there were ... swarms of wasps everywhere ..." he broke off with a shudder.
Hermione nodded. "Go on," she whispered.
"We thought you'd been attacked. We were worried sick, we got Dumbledore and he got Madam Pomfrey and they brought you back up here. By the time we got back to our common room, the whole of Gyrffindor had heard about it. The whole school probably knows by now." Hermione cringed at all the fuss she had caused, and Harry continued, "But then we talked to Seamus and Dean and they told us how you'd been hanging around outside the changing rooms for a while. They said it had looked dodgy. And so me and Ron ... well, we gradually came to the conclusion that - that you'd been eavesdropping." He looked very tense at accusing one of his best friends of this, as if he felt she would explode in anger.
Hermione dropped her eyes from Harry's and her cheeks reddened. If she denied it, she would only end up making things worse for herself. "Yes, you and Ron were right. I was eavesdropping. And then after those wasps had scared me, I stepped backwards onto the bottom of that disused broom and the handle must have swung up to hit the back of my head," Harry looked at her but she still could not meet his eyes. "Honestly, it's like something out of a Muggle comedy," she was burbling now, "Only usually then it's a rake, not a broom, and people aren't eavesdropping on their best friends confessing things like that -"
"Hermione, look at me." She slowly raised her eyes to meet Harry's bright green ones, which did not look angry. In fact, they just held a very sad and disappointed look. "Ron isn't here with me because he doesn't know what to think. On one hand, he's angry that you were listening in on us. But on the other hand ... well, he hasn't told me this himself, but I'm pretty sure he feels a sense of relief,"
"Relief?"
"Yeah. Relief that his feelings are - you know - out in the open. You know how he feels and - well - it's really up to you now to tell him if you feel the same way about him. He can just sit back and wait for you to say something now. There's no pressure on his part any more,"
Hermione turned this particular theory over in her brain. That was one way to look at it, she supposed. But what on earth was she meant to say? Yes, she did have feelings for Ron and she realised it properly now. But maybe - maybe she should just concentrate on making friends with him for now - JUST friends - and telling him how she really felt could come later. She ran this idea past Harry, who smiled.
"That sounds good to me," he said, "I'd apologise or something to start off with. But be careful when you do it. He's really unpredictable these days. He could either accept it graciously or bite your head off! There's the bell, I'll see you later, right?"
Hermione felt the corners of her mouth tugging upwards as she said goodbye to Harry. She took a gulp from the goblet Madame Pomfrey had given her (all the talking and thinking had made her head hurt again) and fell softly asleep. One of her last thoughts before she drifted into unconsciousness was that it really wasn't too bad having Dr. Feelgood as one of her best friends .... not bad at all....
***
The whole of Gryffindor house looked around at Hermione as she climbed awkwardly through the portrait hole that evening. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she stay in the hospital wing all day, despite her pleas of needing to catch up in her lessons. However, the rest had paid off. Her head now felt perfectly fine.
Everyone stared for a moment longer, then turned back to whatever they were doing. No one asked if she was alright - she supposed the word must have spread that she had been eavesdropping. She didn't care. Hermione Granger was not made to lap up sympathy, after all.
For a few moments, she just stood there, not really knowing what to do. Then she caught sight of Harry and Ron at a table in the corner, playing wizard chess. She knew better than to disturb Ron during a game - particularly when he could possibly be angry with her anyway - but it was now or never. She knew that the longer she left it, the harder it would be. She watched Ron's profile, taking in his perfect, straight nose and pale freckled skin. She could see the bright blue in his eyes even from this distance away, sparkling as he picked up one of his pieces and made the final move, knocking the last of Harry's off the board.
"Checkmate!" he said triumphantly, and laughed at Harry's annoyed expression.
Well, at least he was in a good mood now. She took a deep breath and made her way over to the table, her heart thumping in crazy anticipation.
Sitting down next to them, she cleared her throat nervously. Both boys looked up with contrasting reactions. Harry's eyes widened, then he gave her a half-smile. The look in his eyes clearly said "good luck." Ron, on the other hand, frowned at her. But, she noticed with immense relief, his look was nothing like the death glare he had given her in her dream. "Yes?" she jumped at the snappy tone in his voice.
"I - I - um...." she began. The blood rose to her cheeks; she could feel it, "I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry for listening in on you on Wednesday. I was only wondering what you were going to say - and - I was - kind of curious -"
"Curiosity killed the cat, Hermione," said Ron smoothly, and Harry tried (unsuccessfully) to conceal his snigger. They were obviously remembering a certain event in their second year. She looked at Ron and noticed he wasn't frowning as hard - in fact, was that a twinkle in his eye?
"Don't worry about it," he said airily, and grinned at her.
Hermione blinked. "You mean - you were never angry in the first place?"
"A bit. But not now."
"So you - you were PRETENDING to be angry with me just now?"
"Good actor, aren't I?" His grin grew wider.
"Ronald Weasley, I cannot BELIEVE you would make me - make me GROVEL like that!"
"But seriously Hermione - no, I really am being serious now ..... eavesdropping is just ... just not you. It's - it's sly."
"I know. And again, I'm sorry."
"It's alright. You'll just have to make it up to me in some way," he smirked at her.
He saw her raise her eyebrows.
"Not THAT way!" he said, and they all burst out laughing.
"Oh, I don't know," said Harry, leaning back in his chair and eyeing his best friends, "Give it a couple of years," he grinned at them.
This time, they both blushed.
~
A/N: I have used and modified a quote or two from the Jacqueline Wilson "Girls" series, because they're so perfect for this story. I still enjoy those books, being the big kid that I am. :/
Thanks for the reviews! They really do mean a lot.
The Wrath of Ron?
Ouch.
Hermione slowly came around, trying to ignore the dull, throbbing pain in her head. She was immediately confused about her surroundings. For some reason, she was still sprawled behind the Gryffindor changing rooms, but now it was night. Pitch black.
A chill swept over her as she realised she was alone. Where was everyone? Harry and Ron? Why didn't they come?
She caught sight of that stupid bag of sweets which had started all this off. It lay innocently at her feet, entirely wasp-free.
Wait. Entirely?
Not quite.
Hermione watched in fascinated horror as a giant wasp gradually emerged from the bag. Its body was about the size of a rugby ball and each leg was the length of a wand, and was lined with thick, black, spiky hairs. The angry yellow stripes on its body seemed to glare right at her, and, as she watched, the hideous specimen turned slowly to face her.
She could only lie there, petrified. She could not move, nor could she speak.
Now it was the wasp's eyes and not its shocking yellow body that bored into her. The throbbing in her head grew worse and her vision went blurry. She blinked, and everything came into focus again. But the wasp was gone. In its place stood .....
Ron.
He glared down at her, the ferociousness in his eyes the exact same as the wasp's. She cowered inwardly. This was a punishment for eavesdropping. He was livid with her. He was never going to talk to her again. She tried to cry out as he turned and began to walk away, but the pain in her head exploded once more -
"Hermione! Hermione!"
She was writhing and wriggling, she needed to try and shout to Ron, try to reason with him, she couldn't let him walk away like that - but someone was holding her down, shouting her name, she was being restricted by something that felt like bed sheets......
......bed sheets?
Hermione let her body go limp and she opened her eyes slowly. Everything was blurry. She winced as bright light flooded in. Closing her eyes again to block out the blinding whiteness, she heard a familiar voice.
".... she just went mad Madam Pomfrey, I tried to hold her down but I think she was having some kind of nightmare. Didn't know she had that much strength in her...."
Harry.
With Harry usually came Ron. She did not particularly want to open her eyes again for the blinding light which flooded into them, but she had to see if Ron was in the hospital wing too, she had to, she /i to...
She opened them just a crack this time and she saw a blurry outline of Madam Pomfrey fussing with the sheets. She blinked and everything came into proper focus as her head stopped hurting slightly. Her eyes fell on Harry, who was sitting to her right, watching her concernedly. The chair next to him was empty. No Ron.
"Now dear, how are you feeling?" said Madam Pomfrey, "It's Friday morning and you've been unconscious for the last two days, so - "
"Two days?" Hermione said incredulously. Her voice was croaky. "Two days? What schoolwork have I missed? Was there a lot? Oh, I don't believe this....." She began to panic and the pain in her head returned sharply.
"Don't worry, Hermione," said Harry, quickly, "We took some notes for you, and I think you're ahead anyway - "
"Who's 'we'?" said Hermione, "You mean you and Ron?" Her voice rose an octave higher as she said his name, remembering the way he had glared at her in her dream.
"Yeah - well... yeah, something like that,"
Madam Pomfrey seemed to sense that the two students needed a proper talk, so she set a goblet next on the table next to Hermione's bed and told her to drink from it whenever the pain in her head came back. With that, she retreated quietly into her office.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Harry stared at his feet. Hermione was bursting with questions. In the end, she lumped them all into one:
"What happened and where's Ron?"
Harry looked up. It was a few moments before he answered. "We're not sure exactly what happened, Hermione. Maybe you'd know more than we do. But last night after the match, me and Ron were coming out of the changing rooms and we heard this - this gasp from somewhere. We weren't sure exactly where it came from but it sounded like you. Then we heard a sort of buzzing then this thump from behind the changing rooms. We ran round the back and we - we found you just lying there with a bag of sweets in front of you and an old broomstick behind you. And - and there were ... swarms of wasps everywhere ..." he broke off with a shudder.
Hermione nodded. "Go on," she whispered.
"We thought you'd been attacked. We were worried sick, we got Dumbledore and he got Madam Pomfrey and they brought you back up here. By the time we got back to our common room, the whole of Gyrffindor had heard about it. The whole school probably knows by now." Hermione cringed at all the fuss she had caused, and Harry continued, "But then we talked to Seamus and Dean and they told us how you'd been hanging around outside the changing rooms for a while. They said it had looked dodgy. And so me and Ron ... well, we gradually came to the conclusion that - that you'd been eavesdropping." He looked very tense at accusing one of his best friends of this, as if he felt she would explode in anger.
Hermione dropped her eyes from Harry's and her cheeks reddened. If she denied it, she would only end up making things worse for herself. "Yes, you and Ron were right. I was eavesdropping. And then after those wasps had scared me, I stepped backwards onto the bottom of that disused broom and the handle must have swung up to hit the back of my head," Harry looked at her but she still could not meet his eyes. "Honestly, it's like something out of a Muggle comedy," she was burbling now, "Only usually then it's a rake, not a broom, and people aren't eavesdropping on their best friends confessing things like that -"
"Hermione, look at me." She slowly raised her eyes to meet Harry's bright green ones, which did not look angry. In fact, they just held a very sad and disappointed look. "Ron isn't here with me because he doesn't know what to think. On one hand, he's angry that you were listening in on us. But on the other hand ... well, he hasn't told me this himself, but I'm pretty sure he feels a sense of relief,"
"Relief?"
"Yeah. Relief that his feelings are - you know - out in the open. You know how he feels and - well - it's really up to you now to tell him if you feel the same way about him. He can just sit back and wait for you to say something now. There's no pressure on his part any more,"
Hermione turned this particular theory over in her brain. That was one way to look at it, she supposed. But what on earth was she meant to say? Yes, she did have feelings for Ron and she realised it properly now. But maybe - maybe she should just concentrate on making friends with him for now - JUST friends - and telling him how she really felt could come later. She ran this idea past Harry, who smiled.
"That sounds good to me," he said, "I'd apologise or something to start off with. But be careful when you do it. He's really unpredictable these days. He could either accept it graciously or bite your head off! There's the bell, I'll see you later, right?"
Hermione felt the corners of her mouth tugging upwards as she said goodbye to Harry. She took a gulp from the goblet Madame Pomfrey had given her (all the talking and thinking had made her head hurt again) and fell softly asleep. One of her last thoughts before she drifted into unconsciousness was that it really wasn't too bad having Dr. Feelgood as one of her best friends .... not bad at all....
***
The whole of Gryffindor house looked around at Hermione as she climbed awkwardly through the portrait hole that evening. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she stay in the hospital wing all day, despite her pleas of needing to catch up in her lessons. However, the rest had paid off. Her head now felt perfectly fine.
Everyone stared for a moment longer, then turned back to whatever they were doing. No one asked if she was alright - she supposed the word must have spread that she had been eavesdropping. She didn't care. Hermione Granger was not made to lap up sympathy, after all.
For a few moments, she just stood there, not really knowing what to do. Then she caught sight of Harry and Ron at a table in the corner, playing wizard chess. She knew better than to disturb Ron during a game - particularly when he could possibly be angry with her anyway - but it was now or never. She knew that the longer she left it, the harder it would be. She watched Ron's profile, taking in his perfect, straight nose and pale freckled skin. She could see the bright blue in his eyes even from this distance away, sparkling as he picked up one of his pieces and made the final move, knocking the last of Harry's off the board.
"Checkmate!" he said triumphantly, and laughed at Harry's annoyed expression.
Well, at least he was in a good mood now. She took a deep breath and made her way over to the table, her heart thumping in crazy anticipation.
Sitting down next to them, she cleared her throat nervously. Both boys looked up with contrasting reactions. Harry's eyes widened, then he gave her a half-smile. The look in his eyes clearly said "good luck." Ron, on the other hand, frowned at her. But, she noticed with immense relief, his look was nothing like the death glare he had given her in her dream. "Yes?" she jumped at the snappy tone in his voice.
"I - I - um...." she began. The blood rose to her cheeks; she could feel it, "I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry for listening in on you on Wednesday. I was only wondering what you were going to say - and - I was - kind of curious -"
"Curiosity killed the cat, Hermione," said Ron smoothly, and Harry tried (unsuccessfully) to conceal his snigger. They were obviously remembering a certain event in their second year. She looked at Ron and noticed he wasn't frowning as hard - in fact, was that a twinkle in his eye?
"Don't worry about it," he said airily, and grinned at her.
Hermione blinked. "You mean - you were never angry in the first place?"
"A bit. But not now."
"So you - you were PRETENDING to be angry with me just now?"
"Good actor, aren't I?" His grin grew wider.
"Ronald Weasley, I cannot BELIEVE you would make me - make me GROVEL like that!"
"But seriously Hermione - no, I really am being serious now ..... eavesdropping is just ... just not you. It's - it's sly."
"I know. And again, I'm sorry."
"It's alright. You'll just have to make it up to me in some way," he smirked at her.
He saw her raise her eyebrows.
"Not THAT way!" he said, and they all burst out laughing.
"Oh, I don't know," said Harry, leaning back in his chair and eyeing his best friends, "Give it a couple of years," he grinned at them.
This time, they both blushed.
~
A/N: I have used and modified a quote or two from the Jacqueline Wilson "Girls" series, because they're so perfect for this story. I still enjoy those books, being the big kid that I am. :/
Thanks for the reviews! They really do mean a lot.