Chapter Twenty:

Changes of Destiny

Not long after Dumbledore had called the staff meeting, Hermione made her way through the deserted corridors of the castle. She knew it was late, but there was something she had to do. Plus, it was quiet at this hour and she definitely didn't need an audience for this.

The torches along the walls flickered, casting a golden yellow glow over everything. This seemed to make the shadows of things longer and darker which would have normally made her nervous. But, she was already nervous and nothing could scare her more than what she was about to do.

At last the door to the Infirmary appeared at the end of the lonely corridor Hermione almost hesitated before opening it, but she couldn't turn back. Not now.

The hospital was lit dimly so that its patients could sleep if they chose to. Hermione saw that Harry was reading which took away some of the anxiousness. She would have felt awful if she'd had to wake him.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Harry looked up from his book with a smile when he was who it was.

"Hermione – hey!" he said as she walked slowly towards his bed. He didn't notice how nervous she was.

"Hey," she started with a slight almost forced smile "Well, looks like you're feeling better."

"Much," Harry reassured her, grinning. "Now that you're here."

Hermione chuckled anxiously. That wasn't what she needed. This meeting had run through her head millions of times before this. Harry's happiness to see her had not been a part of any of them.

Trying hard to shake off the happy feelings Harry was giving her, Hermione remained standing beside Harry's bed, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Harry," she started quietly "I need to tell you something."

Harry smiled.

"You know you can tell me anything" he replied, oblivious.

Not this I can't, she thought bitterly to herself.

"This is something serious, Harry."

Harry dropped his happy mask and turned serious. Sitting up, he looked her straight in the eyes.

"Sure...Hermione. What's the matter?"

Hermione stalled for a moment, then pressed on. There was no way she was getting around it.

"Harry, you agree we've been having some...issues lately with our relationship. Right?" Harry nodded. "Okay," she went on with a sigh. "I don't want to beat around the bush, Harry."

There was an extreme silence in the room now and Hermione felt the tension so bad she could have cut it with a severing charm.

"Harry...you've been acting really awful to me lately. I mean really awful." Harry looked almost pitiful. "So, this is why I want to...break it off."

Harry was completely silent. Hermione wasn't sure if he was crying or not, but his voice was shaky now.

"Okay," he muttered softly. "If that's how you feel. I'd rather not lose your friendship."

Hermione nodded.

"So..." she said uncomfortably. "I guess I'll get going now. See you tomorrow."

And with that, she left the Hospital and Harry extremely alone and lonely. Slowly Harry sobbed himself to sleep.

Ron sat on his four-poster, surrounded once again with crumpled pieces of parchment. His attempts at writing the note to the person he liked were once again crashing and burning.

With a tearing of another scrawl-covered piece of parchment, Ron gave up.

"This is it!" he muttered angrily to himself "I give it up."

Brushing all the balls of torn paper off his comforter, he took out his wand and shredded them, brushing them into his hand and to the trashcan. He'd tried a million times to tell this person that he'd liked...but none seemed good enough. This person was special to him and a measly little note didn't seem to contain how much he cared.

"What's the use?" he asked himself quietly. "Maybe I'll just say something later..."

Slowly, he got off his bed with the intent of blowing out the candle. But then he heard something.

Stopping, he listened. The sound was faint, but he could hear it clearly. It was the sound of a voice.

But where was it coming from?

Ron walked slowly to the window, resting his hands on the sill as he leaned out the window. Listening more closely, the voice sounded deep and almost angry.

Ron was just about to say something when the voice just stopped – disappeared.

"Hello?" he called out the window, but nothing answered. It was as though he'd never heard the voice at all.

Shrugging, he returned to his bed, blowing out the candle as he went. Tomorrow would be a busy day for him. He had a feeling it would be more eventful than any of the days he'd seen yet that year.