"Ron?" Hermione poked her head out from around the corner of Hagrid's cabin. Sitting on the steps leading to the side door, she was leaning on her forearms, which were draped over her knees. Her cloak and sweater were thrown untidily over a barrel at the bottom of the steps, leaving her in just her white school blouse and blue skirt. Her Gryffindor tie was loosened, hanging around her neck, and her collar was unbuttoned, showing much more skin than she usually showed during class time. She'd pulled her hair up into a messy bun at the base of her neck, so there were pieces of hair in her face. From the look on her face, Ron could tell she was confused—angry even, so he took caution. He walked over and sat down on the step below her. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Nothing, I was just coming to see if you were okay. Lavender and Ginny seemed kind of concerned. Uh—so was I…" He said, putting his bag down by the barrel and taking off his cloak, throwing it over Hermione's.

"I'm fine. Why shouldn't I be fine? I'm perfectly fine!" She said, looking at her hands and cracking her knuckles. Before he realized what he was doing, Ron had taken his hand and laid it over hers; the cracking ceased.

"You're fine…" His voice faded. He didn't know what kind of answer he'd expected her to give. She'd just kissed another guy—her boyfriend's best friend—her best friend. The cheesy fake smile faded off her lips as she stared at Ron's hand resting over hers. She slipped one hand out from under his and hesitated before putting it on top. She looked up at him and gave him a somewhat awkward smile.

"I'm fine—I swear. I mean—it was—it was just a kiss…right? It didn't mean anything…" Her voice trailed off as she looked over the side of the hill where Hagrid's hut was situated. She felt Ron stiffen slightly, then draw his hand away from hers. He leaned his elbows on his knees sighed heavily—once—once was all it took for her to tell that he was upset.

"Yeah—just a kiss…it didn't mean shit." Ron said, staring off into the distance and running a frustrated hand through his hair. Hermione was somewhat hurt. She stood up, picked up her robes and bag and turned to Ron.

"C'mon. Let's go get something to eat." She said, offering him her hand. He hesitated for a moment before standing up, without her aid, and grabbing his things. Hermione let her hand drop back to her side.

"Let's go." They walked down the path together, not touching, not saying a word.

A few weeks passed. Neither one of them mentioned the kiss again, although both thought of it daily. Hermione lay on her bed in her room a few nights before Christmas, looking through her diary. She sighed. So many of these entries were concerning Harry….

Dear Diary,

Today was an okay day. I finished my Essay for Snape—I think it may be a little long. I wrote six pages of parchment instead of three. Oh well—too bad. Harry seems so distant nowadays. I can't seem to find out what's going on. He still walks me to class everyday and we're still close, but it's not that same. I don't know what to do…oh well….

Dear Diary,

Harry is so sweet…I think he's finally going to open up to me! I'm so happy. He apologized for being so short with me for the past few months. Then he gave me a yellow rose—my very favorite flower! What a great day….

Dear Diary,

Harry is driving me crazy! He won't sit with me during Lunch period anymore! He insists on sitting with Seamus and Dean and the rest of the Quidditch team. Thank goodness for Ron, who's never far away. Too bad he's usually busy with Amy, so I'm stuck with Lavender and Ginny. Not that I mind, but they aren't Ron…I mean Harry…I mean-- to come to think of it, nowadays I'd rather be with Ron. It may be time to end this pathetic attempt at a relationship…

Hermione closed the book and rolled over onto her forearms so she could lie on her bed and look out the window at the same time. There was a blanket of snow covering the ground and the trees. Hagrid's cabin looked like something out of a fairytale; the puffs of smoke bellowing from his chimney against the powdery background of the mountains and the black starry sky looked like a picture perfect wonderland. She smiled, thinking of the post cards her parents sent her for Christmas every year. They had scenes like this on the front with cute little messages written inside in her father's untidy scrawl. As she was lying around thinking, she started to get hungry. She looked at her watch; twelve thirty. She groaned and sat up, shoving her feet into her slippers that Mrs. Weasley had made for her last year. They had holes in the toes, but Hermione loved them anyway because they were warm and reminded her of the Burrow. She took a few minutes to rub her arms to try to warm up before tiptoeing through the dormitory (so she wouldn't wake Lavender) and down into the portrait hole.

Ron sat in front of the fire in the common room, twirling his wand between his fingers, trying to finish a book that Amy suggested he read. It was horribly mushy, boring, and unmistakably—Amy. Romance—that's all she ever thought about. He groaned and threw the book down onto the sofa as he came to a part where the heroine made love to her rescuer. As an after thought, he took the book and hurled it into the fireplace. Amy's gonna kill me for that. He thought before shrugging and covering his face with his hands again. Oh well….too bad for me. He heard footsteps on the stairs behind him, so he turned to see who it was.

"Hey Ron, I didn't think anyone was still up." Hermione said as she padded down the stairs. She looked so attractive in her reindeer pajama bottoms and an old oversized t-shirt Ron recognized as his own, one he'd lent to her in their fifth year. He also noted the slippers she was wearing were ones his mother had made. They had huge holes in the toes and were almost worn down to nothing. He grinned at her.

"Yeah, I'm up. Nice slippers." He said, motioning to her feet. She blushed and looked at them.

"Shut up. They're warm and I love them." She said, walking down and flopping down on the sofa beside him. "What are you up to?" She asked, watching as the flames licked at the edges of the romance novel Ron had been forced to read. "What is that?!" Ron's ears turned red and he shrunk down into his seat.

"…novel of Amy's….made me read it…" He muttered as Hermione whispered a spell to put out the fire.

"Accio um…novel…" She said with a playful smile on her lips as she turned to Ron. Amy's charred but readable novel zoomed into her outstretched hand and she flipped through the pages. She burst into laughter as she read some of it aloud.

"Oh Ron, you have got to be joking. Amy can't be—she wouldn't make you read this filth…would she?" Ron nodded and sunk down farther in his chair. Hermione laughed as she pointed her wand at the fire. Flames shot out of the end and into the fireplace, starting a huge blaze. "Will you do the honors or will I?" Hermione asked, offering Ron the book.

"I'll do it." He muttered, then took the book from her hands and chucked it into the fire again.