A/N: So, the final chapter is up! All thanks to Bec, who saved me from the nightmare that this chapter once was. If you've enjoyed it, review! If you haven't enjoyed it, review!

When Harry woke, the dormitory was empty. He supposed the others must have gone down to the hall already. He got up in an oddly cheerful mood and began to get dressed. Just as he was pulling on his right sock and humming tunelessly, everything that had happened the night before dawned upon his groggy brain. He collapsed down onto his bed and rested his head in his hands. He pondered his own stupidity and humiliation for a moment, before going into autopilot and heading down to breakfast.

The mood at the table was less than friendly. In fact, it could correctly be described as hideously uncomfortable. The hall was half empty, Hermione was sitting between Ginny and Angelina, and Ron was sitting between Dean and George. Both Ron and Dean scowled at Harry as he passed, while Hermione simply glanced up and looked away sharply. Harry sat down by himself further up the table. He couldn't understand why the other two seemed to think that they were the victims and he was the bad guy. He'd done nothing wrong. That's how he saw it, anyway.

The rest of the day carried a similar pattern. He did his best to go unnoticed and avoid confrontation. During lunch, instead of going to the hall as was his normal routine; he decided to go to the library to study for the Transfiguration exam that he was yet to pass. He settled at a small round table near the back and pulled some relevant-looking books off the nearest shelf. He didn't really care what he was reading, it gave him somewhere to put his eyes and look like he was incredibly busy and not at all bothered about what was going on with Hermione and Ron. And for this he was eternally grateful. A few other students were shuffling around in the library, some chatting quietly and some sitting alone, just like himself.

After about twenty minutes of staring at one particularly dull page, he decided that a new book was necessary. He rose and moved to a bookshelf diagonal to his table. His eyes scanned slowly along the rows of books, before he finally settled on one at eye level by Professor Davgo-Hugies. His hand reached up to pull it carefully from the shelf. As he did so, he could see a tuft of red hair in the gap it left in the shelf. It was too late. The owner of the tuft looked up as he sensed movement, and the boys' eyes met immediately.

Ron frowned at Harry in silence. His eyes shifted to the side and he stood awkwardly motionless. Harry knew what was coming, and he knew what he had to do.

"It's not what you think, I don't know what happened … it's all such a blur. I wasn't thinking about it. She was just so upset, and I thought …well … I don't really know what I thought…"

"Right. Yeah;" Ron muttered. His voice was quite and cold.

"Ron I-"

"What, you're sorry? Oh, how bloody gracious of you." Ron blushed suddenly at his outburst and looked down at his hands.

Harry moved round the side of the bookshelf, so the two boys could talk properly in the fading light of the oil lamps.

"I don't know why I did it. I wasn't thinking. I mean, I really wasn't thinking. I just sort of … it just …happened …" Harry trailed off, unable to put into words all the thoughts that were whirling around in his head.

Ron looked up suddenly. "I know why you did it, Harry. You always have to go one better than me, don't you? Only natural that you should get the girl now, isn't it?" He looked Harry in the eyes for the first time since the conversation started. "God, what was I thinking? How the fuck was she going to notice me when The Boy Who Lived is my best bloody friend?"

Harry was shocked, but he knew he should've expected something like this. After all, he'd tried to kiss the girl his best friend was in love with. And that made him feel just wonderful.

The two stood in silence as the library slowly emptied around them. Harry knew what he had to do to break the silence.

"Listen, there's something you should know – "

"Harry, it's fine. Whatever." Ron was doing his best to sound nonchalant. "If you want to … you know, just do it, okay? I don't – "

"But Ron, that's just it. I don't want to. Maybe I did, for just a moment, but I've been thinking about it so much and I … well, I don't know what I want. But it's definitely not that."

Ron brightened.

"Before you walked into the common room, she was crying. She was distraught; I don't know what you did to make her break down like that. But I was trying to repair the damage for you. Just as I was heading towards the dormitory, she was about to say something. I dunno. She must have decided against it. But when I … when I tried to … you know, kiss her …"

Ron looked at Harry expectantly.

"She pulled away. Just as you were walking through the portrait hole, just as I was about to kiss her, she pulled away." Harry's words were met with a questioning stare from Ron, followed by a small smile.

"Are you… are you sure? I mean… really!" Ron questioned in glorious disbelief.

"Yeah. Yeah, Ron. I'm sure of it." Harry replied, trying to sound unaffected.

"I …I don't know what to … I mean, what shall I …" Apparently, this little snippet had destroyed Ron's ability to speak in full sentences.

"Ron. I think you might want to go and find her, don't you?" Harry replied.

"Yeah. Yeah…that's what I'll do." Ron's smile broadened as realisation dawned. He started towards the library doors. He stopped after a few steps and turned round.

"Thanks mate," he said simply, and carried on through the doors.

"Anytime." Harry said quietly to himself.