Chapter Seven: Cooking Consolation

Hermione found Harry in the kitchens. His face was pale, but his green eyes were dull, and lined with red. Tear streaks stained his cheeks. He was staring forlornly into a large glass of Butterbeer, as if considering drowning himself in it. The House Elves were watching him, fearfully. Hermione quietly shooed them away after requesting a cup of tea, and sat down across from the poor boy who was her best friend.

"Harry, what happened? Ron woke me up and said that you'd had a nightmare, and that you'd run from the boys' dormitory," Hermione said, quietly, noticing the way Harry's hands shook at the mention of Ron's name. "But he wouldn't tell me anything else." Harry sniffled, slightly, took a swig of his Butterbeer, and refused to meet Hermione's eye.

"I had a dream...I dreamed that Voldemort cursed me, but Ron was the one who suffered. He was screaming, and he was writhing, and then he died. I woke up right before Voldemort killed me, and Ron was sitting on my bed. I expect he came to wake me up. But I was so scared...I started crying, and Ron hugged me, and told me that it was just a dream...And he looked so beautiful in the moonlight that I...I k-kissed him..." Harry placed his head in his hands.

"Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time," Hermione said, her voice oddly low. "I mean, this isn't something you would have been able to just keep from him. Whatever love potion you were given, it's very strong. You were bound to act eventually, and your weakest moment was at that exact moment. You were already emotional, and Ron being there when you woke up did not really help things. It probably would have been better if you had just told him the first place. It would have been less of a shock..."

"What am I going to do?" Harry groaned, motioning to a House Elf that he wanted another Butterbeer.

"First, you're going to go to bed. The boys are probably asleep by now. Tomorrow you're just going to have to explain to Ron what's going on." Harry's eyes widened.

"Can't you do it?" he pleaded. Hermione pursed her lips and shook her head, firmly.

"No. You're the one who kissed him. You're going to have to do this on your own. Anyway, that way we won't have to make up excuses to Ron. It'll be easier to research."

"I think I'll just sleep down here," Harry mumbled. Hermione shook her head.

"No. You need to get to bed." A thought suddenly occurred to Harry.

"Hey, Hermione? Who carried me to bed last week?" The corners of Hermione's mouth quirked into a smile.

"Ron."