Chapter 22 – Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

The air around Hermione grew tighter, as if half of it had taken off after Ron. She couldn't breathe. Her hands were clamped to her neck like butter on bread, absorbing the pain from inside. Not physical pain, but emotional pain.

Hermione felt the sweat slither down from all over her body, representing a signal telling her that she couldn't stand in the middle of the forest all day. She turned and advanced a step, but that was when she realized that someone was still out there waiting for her.

This thought jolted her. Draco was still by the lake, probably standing there helplessly and waiting for her to return. But why should I? He's the one responsible for all this.

But I can't just desert him, said another faint thought inside her head. No, she couldn't just leave him there alone. She just wasn't that type of person, even if he wasn't her most favorite person in the world right now…

…and the reason for that was the kiss. Why did he kiss her? It wasn't like he liked her in that romantic way; the possible chance for that was one in a billion. Purebloods didn't fall for the so-called "mudbloods". What if it was a trick? What if he had purposely kissed her so Ron would see it? Well, if that's the case, then I'll just have to kill him for causing this mess.

But something inside of her told her that that wasn't it. Draco had been staring at her long before Ron got there, and that meant…that…no. Hermione didn't want to deal with him because the last thing she needed was to have a confrontation like that. Her feet compelled her to get out of the forest and that's exactly what she did.

…

"Come on, talk to me Ron!" moaned Hermione, as she crept up behind Ron on the way back to the castle. She glanced around and witnessed the cheerful faces of students strolling together in deep conversation, and it was so paradoxical to her mood that she could almost vomit.

"Ron, Ron, Ron!" Herrmione might as well have been a layer of the grass because he didn't even look at her. Instead, he quickened his pace to get to Dean and Seamus, making Hermione stop on the spot.

She screamed in frustration. A few fourth year boys on her right glanced at her with interest, and Hermione mumbled "sorry" and walked alone the rest of the way.

Don't cry, she told herself forcefully as the tears began to well up in her eyes. Everything was going to be alright. It had to be. Ron would probably forget about it and start talking to her the next day. It's nothing, she reassured herself.

But if it was nothing, then why did he rip off her necklace? It was as if he'd ripped off his love for her in a fraction of a second and that was not possible. Ron loved her…he told her this every single day, and no one could just turn off their hearts to the person they truly loved…

Hermione touched her neck softly and felt mild sores around the back. Suddenly, she jumped from a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she found Ginny and Harry giving her surprised looks.

"What happened to you?" said Ginny, as she strolled ahead on Hermione's side.

Hermione couldn't say "nothing" so she decided on, "Oh, uh…I was in Zonko's and this rubbish ring snapped onto my neck-"

"No," cut in Ginny, "I meant, why are you alone? Where's my beloved brother?" Hermione sensed the bitterness in Ginny's voice.

"Somewhere ahead…I don't know." A whisper came out of Hermione's mouth.

Harry, walking on the other side of her, said, "You got into a fight?"

Hermione nodded, primarily because if she said one more word, tears would fall from her eyes. She was not going to cry. She was strong.

Harry cursed under his breath, and Ginny spoke, "About what?"

"Don't want to discuss it. I'll see you later." Hermione ran ahead without looking back at her friends.

…

Hermione pulled the blanket over her to shield her from the cold erupting from inside of her. It was a reasonably warm night, but her body was shivering. The thoughts that twirled inside her head were making her cold.

As she lay in her bed with her eyes closed, she wondered if Ron would ever make up with her. Hermione couldn't stand not talking to him, laughing with him, and especially kissing him…

A never ending debate was going on inside of her, and the more she thought about it, the more she came to believe that their breakup was her fault. Their break up…That phrase had a permanent sensation that Hermione didn't like to think about, but she had to face it. The girl who had chased off after Draco Malfoy was her. The lips that had locked with Draco's were also hers. If she had been in Ron's shoes, would she have agreed to believe that nothing was going on? If only she'd kept her curiosity under control, then she wouldn't have gotten involved in Draco's affairs, and Ron would still be with her.

Well…maybe if Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup tomorrow, then Ron would be happy enough to forget the whole fiasco. It was highly likely that they would win because they were easily the best team out of all of the houses, but she feared that Ron and Harry's (and even) Ginny's tempers would get in the way of winning.

While praying that this wouldn't happen, Hermione's mind went into a blank as her thoughts drifted off gradually. She fell into a deep slumber, praying that tomorrow would bring hope.

…

Harry awoke on Sunday morning to the sound of chirping owls and the shuffling of fresh summer leaves, totally rejuvenated and ready for their final Quidditch match. This isn't just the final match of the year, he thought as he got out of bed, but probably the last official Quidditch match of his life. In a month, he would be fighting evil out in the real world as an Auror, or so he hoped.

Harry glanced at Ron's bed and saw that he wasn't there. Well, he must be more nervous than me. Who cares how Ron feels? That night came back to him. Ron had been so stupid and idiotic to declare that he would kill Ginny. Why would he attack the girl he loved? It wasn't like Ron was a saint or something, that he could just badmouth him like that.

There was no surprise that practically no one was speaking to Ron. He deserved it because he was overreacting to everything. How dare he criticize him for being intimate with Ginny?

The bleak anger that had dissolved sprouted in him again, causing his scar twitch, but Harry barely took note of it. His scar hurt so frequently and intensely that it was as normal as eating and sleeping to him.

He took a quick shower and then returned to his dorm room to polish his Firebolt, making it look as new as possible. He wasn't going to let anything in his way of winning the Quidditch World Cup. Something gave him the feeling that a bad even was going to take place at the match. It was just a natural instinct. But then again, something bad always happened to him and to the people around him. So many people that he cared about had died because of him. He had never gotten the chance to speak to his parents or even have a few memories of them because of him being the top on Voldemort's hit list. Sirius had fallen into the black veil and disappeared out of Harry's life forever because of his own stupidity…

Harry inserted his Firebolt back into his trunk and locked it until game time, and went downstairs for some breakfast. Two-thirds of the students in the Great Hall were dressed in Gryffindor colors, while the rest were deep green colors of Slytherin. His eyes trailed to the staff table and surprisingly saw that even Dumbledore, who usually wore purple, was dressed in gold and red colors.

He found Ginny sitting at their usual table, chatting with Andrew Kirke.

Harry kissed her on the cheek as he settled down next to her, inhaling the sweet aroma of vanilla and raspberry clouding her cheek that gave him a feeling like he was in the clouds.

"Hmm…you smell sweet." breathed Harry.

"Bonjour." she gave him a peck on the lips.

"Here. Eat something." said Harry, and slid a plate of toast and sausage to his right.

Ginny, who almost never let anything depress her, grabbed the plate and began eating feverishly. However, she stopped in the middle of drinking her orange juice.

"Did you eat?" inquired Ginny.

"Yeah."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You nod your head when you lie." she said, folding her arms smartly. Harry grinned.

"I'm not hungry."

Ginny plunged into a boring lecture about how a person should always eat breakfast, the most important meal of the day. Her voice drowned when they both witnessed Hermione entering the Hall with a solemn face.

"Don't act romantic or kiss me. I don't want to upset her." Ginny murmured.

"Got it."

Hermione sat down across from them and gave a timid greeting. Her face was poignant but otherwise amazingly normal. Harry had expected her to be crying all night or something and show up in the morning with her face as gaunt as a ghost's.

"You okay?" said Ginny, in a concerned voice.

"Yes, I'm fine." Hermione grabbed a plate and threw a few pieces of toast onto it. At that precise moment, a pack of owls flew into the hall and a small brown owl dropped an issue of the Daily Prophet on the table. Hermione opened the newspaper and absorbed herself in it, not even bothering to touch the plate of breakfast that she had set up.

Harry glanced at Ginny, who looked as worried as him. Suppressing emotion was never a good thing, and he should know. It could drive a person crazy.

"Er, anyway…" Harry pushed his glasses into place and rounded about to Ginny, "You remember all the techniques we went through on Thursday, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what I'll be doing. You just make sure you get the Snitch before Malfoy uses a thousand tricks to try and kill you before you touch that ball."

His eyes fell upon Hermione's face and saw her eyebrows twitch. She raised her head and said, "Good luck on the match, you two. I know you'll win."

While Harry nodded with pride, Hermione's attention went past him. He followed her gaze to find Ron present in the Great Hall with his old broomstick clutched in one hand. Harry looked away instantly.

After a minute or so, Hermione elevated her head from the sound of Ron's voice and saw him laughing and talking to Dean and Seamus who were about twenty feet away from them. Hermione's eyes landed on Ron's broomstick and suddenly, she bolted up, her spiky hair covering half of her face, and blasted out of the hall at the speed of a missile.

Harry looked back at Ginny in bewilderment, "What in the world was that about?"

Ginny's face turned serious, "She bought him a new broom on Valentine's Day and he's not using it. That's my guess."

"Oh…I see." Harry's anger deepened further as he glimpsed Ron now arm wrestling with Seamus.

"Let's go." Harry got to his feet, ready to march after Hermione.

"Where, to kick Ron in the-"

"No. To Hermione." said Harry, although the first idea seemed reasonable as well.

"I think she wants to be alone." commented Ginny, who was still sitting.

"She's had enough alone time. I want to know what happened." Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny and led her to the common room.

Students in robes of red and gold were rushing down the stairs of both the girl and boy dormitories, and as they came in, Mason, a tall and spiny chaser of their Quidditch team, spotted them with an incredulous look on his face, "What are you guys doing in here? You should be in the locker room!"

"You can't boss the captain around. We'll be there soon. There's something we got to take care of."

Mason agreed and left the room, while Harry searched the common room for Hermione.

"She's not here." said Ginny, whose eyes were also scanning, "she's probably in her room."

Harry rushed to the staircase leading up to the girls dormitory and was about to step on it when Ginny pushed him back.

"What?"

"You'll never get up there. Remember?" said Ginny, smiling.

"Oh…right. Err…wait," he said, raising his hand, "I have an idea."

…

"How did you get up here?" Hermione stared at Harry in astonishment.

Harry raised his Firebolt as a clue, and Hermione gaped at him, "Flew in? Oh my god…"

Oh my god was right. A peculiar layer of gloom was present on her drenched wet face that Harry had never seen before. Sure, he had seen Hermione cry loads of times, but this time he was looking at a face that gave off the feeling that it would never look happy again.

"Forget about it," said Harry, sitting on the bed besides Hermione, "I can't play Quidditch with half my mind worrying about you, so just tell us what happened. You'll feel better."

Ginny settled herself on the bed across from Hermione's, "Yeah."

And so she did. Hermione told them that she had seen a guy with a black hood and then had gone after him, only to find Draco beaten up to death. Hiccupping and crying, she continued and said that Ron came after her and saw her alone with Draco.

Harry frowned, "Hold on. Why was he so pissed about seeing you with Malfoy? He knows you two are buddies, and it wasn't like you were making out with him on the spot."

Hermione averted her bloodshot eyes.

Ginny clapped a hand to her open mouth, "Oh my god, you were?"

"No way!" Harry refused to believe that Hermione would ever have that type of relationship with…Malfoy. Even though she was on cooperative terms with him didn't mean that she would start liking him.

"No…he kissed me…just knocked me off by surprise…and Ron just…came there at the wrong time…" Her voice fainted by the word, "and now he won't listen to me…he doesn't believe me…at first, I thought it wasn't that serious, but…look." She moved her hair to one side and pointed to the back of her neck. Harry went closer to look and saw a swollen blue line spread across her rear neck.

"He hurt you?" breathed Harry. A fire erupted inside his body. He opened his mouth again but Hermione beat him to it.

"Well, no…he tore off the…necklace…and…I guess it was my fault…I kissed him…" Hermione's voice cracked and she wailed and sobbed, her face covered in her hands.

"It's not your fault. Blame that scumbag Malfoy. He was the one who made the moves on you." declared Harry. He took her hands and put them down, and then wiped off her tears just like she had done for him a few days ago. He couldn't believe Ron had done that. He loved Hermione so much; he should have trusted Hermione. Harry had the sudden urge to get his hands on a Bludger and hurl it at Ron.

"Harry…" whispered Ginny, signaling her eyes at the window. He gazed out at the Quidditch field surrounded by the crowded benches. Harry spotted a few people the size of caterpillars in the middle of the field and he knew that the match was about to start.

Hermione's innocent face turned to his, "Go. You're late."

"Come on." Harry prodded her, but she didn't get up, "No…I don't feel like going…go…good luck…"

Ginny and Harry exchanged sorrowful looks. This was not at all like Hermione. The real Hermione would deal with her problems and go on with her life, no matter what those problems were. She wouldn't hide in her room. Harry felt even greater hatred towards Ron.

"Don't worry about it Hermione. I'll talk to Ron as soon as the match is over, okay? Everything will be fine, you'll see." Ginny hugged her, "Get some rest. We'll be back as soon as we can."