Confessions
Dinner that night was almost completely silent. Snape looked furious at the fact that Hermione and Ron hadn't gotten into more trouble. No one wanted to ask about their adventure, and in any case, neither Ron nor Hermione felt like talking about it. Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley were perhaps the only ones that talked throughout the entire meal. Harry told her of his new Quidditch training plan (he had recently been made Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor; this made him feel slightly better about not being made prefect the year before) but soon conversation wore thin, and the table fell silent.
Hermione found herself outside Ron and Harry's room about an hour after dinner. Ron had said they would talk later. Well, now was later. They would talk now.
She knocked timidly; half-expecting there would be no answer, and knowing it would be a difficult conversation. Well, she had made her bed, now she had to lay in it. Seeing that there was no answer, she almost left.
"Mum, I don't want dumb hand-me-downs from Percy – Hermione." His voice suddenly turned cold, his ears beneath his red hair pink. "What do you want now?"
"I want to finish that chat of ours."
"Well, I'll leave the two of you to it, then," said Harry, who had been sitting on his bed, writing what was presumably another essay. "I really don't want to be caught in the middle of another row between you lot. Let me know when you're done, won't you?" he said, getting up, grabbing his quill, ink, and parchment, and leaving, closing the door behind him.
"Look, Ron," Hermione began.
"Got that essay for Care of Magical Creatures written yet?" Ron sneered. "That's all you see this event as, isn't it? Material for school. Forget about the fact that there could be more of them, forget about the safety of my family. I've never understood that about you, Hermione. Never."
"Ron, I was never going to write a bloody essay, okay? I just didn't want you thinking I was soft."
"You? Soft?" Ron laughed, a somewhat mad laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "Hermione, you are not soft. What were you thinking? I've known you since you wanted me to say that spell to turn Pettigrew yellow. You were stubborn even then, and you're more stubborn now. I know you're not soft. It's fine to be emotional every once in a while."
Hermione became keenly aware that the conversation had turned to a point that she really didn't want to be at right now. "Well, if that's understood, I'll leave, then."
"'Night."
"'Night."
Hermione left, shutting the door behind her. Ron stood for a while, shocked by Hermione's admittance, and then a thought came to him: did Hermione and I just have a civilised conversation? Our first one since the train home? He halted himself there; Don't get too used to it; you're sure to be in another row with her by sundown tomorrow. Like it, perhaps, but don't get used to it. That's the way life is. The way things go.
"Hullo, Ron," said Harry. Ron jumped; he had been so deeply immersed in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed Harry enter his room. He was sitting at his desk, looking completely at home, quill once more in hand.
"Harry! Don't do that again."
"Oh god, this is the bloke who went with me to the Mysteries Department. You're just too...pensive, Ron. You and Hermione get everything sorted out already?" When Ron nodded, Harry said, "Well, that was fast. Usually you two stay pissed at each other for weeks." He suddenly turned to Ron, a sly, suspecting look on his countenance, his brow furrowed slightly. "You got a thing for her, mate?"
"No!" Ron denied it as easily as drawing a breath. Okay, so maybe I find her attractive, but Harry doesn't need to know that.
This was obviously too quick of a response to be completely true. "You sure? You've been acting weird 'round her lately."
"Just worried about her, I guess."
"Worried?"
"Well, after last night in the marshes..." his voice trailed away, and he turned his face away, suddenly quite interested in a squirrel (with, admittedly, a very odd sleeping pattern seeing as it was quarter-past ten) that was trying desperately to crack an acorn fallen from a nearby tree.
Harry sensed a tender topic, and decided to leave the discussion where it was.
"Erm, why don't you go for a walk? You do look a bit off-colour, mate."
"Yeah, I think I will."
Ron suddenly got up, putting a blade in his boot, just in case one of those creatures came back.
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Just...be careful around Hermione, all right? She seems a bit...strange lately."
"Sure."
Dinner that night was almost completely silent. Snape looked furious at the fact that Hermione and Ron hadn't gotten into more trouble. No one wanted to ask about their adventure, and in any case, neither Ron nor Hermione felt like talking about it. Harry, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley were perhaps the only ones that talked throughout the entire meal. Harry told her of his new Quidditch training plan (he had recently been made Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor; this made him feel slightly better about not being made prefect the year before) but soon conversation wore thin, and the table fell silent.
Hermione found herself outside Ron and Harry's room about an hour after dinner. Ron had said they would talk later. Well, now was later. They would talk now.
She knocked timidly; half-expecting there would be no answer, and knowing it would be a difficult conversation. Well, she had made her bed, now she had to lay in it. Seeing that there was no answer, she almost left.
"Mum, I don't want dumb hand-me-downs from Percy – Hermione." His voice suddenly turned cold, his ears beneath his red hair pink. "What do you want now?"
"I want to finish that chat of ours."
"Well, I'll leave the two of you to it, then," said Harry, who had been sitting on his bed, writing what was presumably another essay. "I really don't want to be caught in the middle of another row between you lot. Let me know when you're done, won't you?" he said, getting up, grabbing his quill, ink, and parchment, and leaving, closing the door behind him.
"Look, Ron," Hermione began.
"Got that essay for Care of Magical Creatures written yet?" Ron sneered. "That's all you see this event as, isn't it? Material for school. Forget about the fact that there could be more of them, forget about the safety of my family. I've never understood that about you, Hermione. Never."
"Ron, I was never going to write a bloody essay, okay? I just didn't want you thinking I was soft."
"You? Soft?" Ron laughed, a somewhat mad laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. "Hermione, you are not soft. What were you thinking? I've known you since you wanted me to say that spell to turn Pettigrew yellow. You were stubborn even then, and you're more stubborn now. I know you're not soft. It's fine to be emotional every once in a while."
Hermione became keenly aware that the conversation had turned to a point that she really didn't want to be at right now. "Well, if that's understood, I'll leave, then."
"'Night."
"'Night."
Hermione left, shutting the door behind her. Ron stood for a while, shocked by Hermione's admittance, and then a thought came to him: did Hermione and I just have a civilised conversation? Our first one since the train home? He halted himself there; Don't get too used to it; you're sure to be in another row with her by sundown tomorrow. Like it, perhaps, but don't get used to it. That's the way life is. The way things go.
"Hullo, Ron," said Harry. Ron jumped; he had been so deeply immersed in his own thoughts that he hadn't even noticed Harry enter his room. He was sitting at his desk, looking completely at home, quill once more in hand.
"Harry! Don't do that again."
"Oh god, this is the bloke who went with me to the Mysteries Department. You're just too...pensive, Ron. You and Hermione get everything sorted out already?" When Ron nodded, Harry said, "Well, that was fast. Usually you two stay pissed at each other for weeks." He suddenly turned to Ron, a sly, suspecting look on his countenance, his brow furrowed slightly. "You got a thing for her, mate?"
"No!" Ron denied it as easily as drawing a breath. Okay, so maybe I find her attractive, but Harry doesn't need to know that.
This was obviously too quick of a response to be completely true. "You sure? You've been acting weird 'round her lately."
"Just worried about her, I guess."
"Worried?"
"Well, after last night in the marshes..." his voice trailed away, and he turned his face away, suddenly quite interested in a squirrel (with, admittedly, a very odd sleeping pattern seeing as it was quarter-past ten) that was trying desperately to crack an acorn fallen from a nearby tree.
Harry sensed a tender topic, and decided to leave the discussion where it was.
"Erm, why don't you go for a walk? You do look a bit off-colour, mate."
"Yeah, I think I will."
Ron suddenly got up, putting a blade in his boot, just in case one of those creatures came back.
"Ron?"
"Yeah?"
"Just...be careful around Hermione, all right? She seems a bit...strange lately."
"Sure."