Chapter 5- Panic Alert

"Oh, god, man, I'm so sorry!" Jake gasped, his hands to his mouth. "No wonder
you were so pissed off! You should have said something, mate! I… I didn't
realise… should I apologise to her?"

"No, no!" Ron said, "I'll… I'll sort things out. Really."

"Oh, well… I'm sorry, mate," Jake said sincerely. "You're a lucky guy to have a
girl like her."

"Yeah," Ron nodded, desperate to get away. "Well, I'll see you later then."

"Bye," Jake waved, as Ron closed the door behind him. He walked back to
Hermione's house, smiling smugly to himself. That had gone so easily it was
almost scary. He knew Jake was so embarrassed that he wouldn't as much as come
within 5 miles of Hermione again, let alone attempt to speak to her. And he
hadn't had to tell her his feelings in front of everyone. For once in his life,
things were really going his way. He might even consider being "mates" with
Jake…

Hermione gazed desolately at the ceiling, hoping that if she wished hard enough
the entire evening would erase itself from everyone's memory, and that when they
thought back at the evening, they would recall nothing except a vague, fuzzy
feeling of well being. They would not, however, remember the game of Spin the
Bottle.

She felt horrible. She didn't normally play games like that. The pressure of the
party had got to her- there had been all those people from her past- they didn't
know her as she was now. All they remembered was geeky, frizzy-haired Hermione
Granger, who no one liked and who didn't fit in. The weird kid who read all the
time and was always around when freaky things happened. She'd reverted to the
way she was when she was younger- following the crowd, doing things she didn't
want to do just so that people might like her for who she was, rather than the
fact that she did their homework for them.

It just wasn't like her. She didn't care what people thought now. She had
friends like Harry and Ron, and they liked her, not her brain. But she didn't
know that back then. She didn't know she'd be leaving her "friends" and going
away. She had only ever wanted to be popular, to change her reputation, so that
people would like her when she moved to secondary school as opposed to simply
using her. Her past instincts had come back to her- try and fit in, don't be a
party-pooper. But her situation was different now. She'd shown herself up, and
in front of Ron. He wouldn't ever look at her in the same way now. He'd always
said that he was glad she wasn't a sheep like the other girls. That she stood up
for herself and didn't do anything she didn't want to, just to look popular. But
she'd done all of those things that night.

There was no way she'd ever stand a chance with him now. She'd shown herself to
be everything he didn't like. She'd kissed Jake, simply because she didn't want
to make a scene. What kind of person did that make her seem? At best, it made
her look like a crowd follower, at worst, a floozy. Dear god, did he think that
she wanted Jake to kiss her like that? He had looked disgusted afterwards- had
he left because he couldn't stand the thought of looking at her? Would she ever
be able to show her face in front of him again?

"Hermione!" her father called up the stairs. "Phone!"

"I've got it!" she said, picking up the phone from her bedside table with
absolutely no enthusiasm whatsoever.

"Oh. My. God," a voice said accusingly from the other end. "You sly little minx!
Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hi Chas. Tell you what?"

"About you and Ron! I mean, it's been two weeks now, and I hadn't noticed a
thing. Stupid really… I mean, all the clues were there, right in front of me. I
knew there was something not quite right…"

"Chas, stop. Explain," Hermione said, trying to hide her panic- had Chas somehow
found out about Hogwarts? Was it possible that… that she had found out, somehow?
Had Ron perhaps let it slip? Or had Chas simply figured it out?

"Jake told Stuart, who told Fliss, who told me, that Ron told Jake that he was
going out with you," Chas said triumphantly. "And may I just say, hats off,
honey. Ron's a good choice. Heck, if you hadn't taken him, I would have!"

"No, Chas, no," Hermione said with a slight smile. "I think some wires must have
been crossed. Ron and I have never been any more than friends."

"That's not what Jake told me," Chas said in a singsong voice. "I checked with
him myself. He told me that when Ron was leaving the party, he went after him to
find out why he was so pissed off and he said that it was because you were his
girlfriend."

"Chas, I really don't th-"

"Why would I lie, Mi?" Chas began hotly. "It's not like I'd get anything out of
it. And I don't see why you're being so defensive about it. As I said, Ron's
hot. It's not like he's anything to be embarrassed about."

Somehow, Hermione believed Chas. She knew how her mind worked- she really
believed that things were that simple. There's no point in lying unless you're
getting something out of it. Besides, it just didn't make sense. Why would Jake
lie and say she was going out with Ron? Surely, if he liked her, it would be in
his best interests if Ron weren't going out with her. That only left one
possible source for the lie to have come from left.

Ron.

"Look, Chas, I'll call you back later, alright? I'm kind of busy at the moment.
So I'll speak to you later? Okay, bye!" She slammed the phone down before Chas
could even start to protest. She was going to speak to Ron about this, to get
everything sorted. After all, it was probably just a misunderstanding.

She entered Ron's room to see him lying fully dressed on the bed, reading his
Potions notes. He smiled cheerfully at her as she peeked round the door.

"Half an hour too late with morning torture today!" he said chirpily. "But don't
worry, I'll play along, just give me a second…" He laid down his notes and began
to clamber back under the duvet.

"Ron, I need to ask you something," Hermione said resolutely. "After the party
last night…"

"Yes?"

"Did you tell Jake that I was your girlfriend?"

"…no," Ron said, in a voice that stated very clearly that he was lying.

"The truth, please, Ron," Hermione said, closing the door behind her and then
folding her arms across her chest.

"I didn't!" Ron protested, the same look of dishonesty plastered over his
scarlet-cheeked face. He paused for a few seconds, before adding, "and even if I
had, why are you so bothered? Do you fancy Jake or something?"

"No."

"Well, then I don't see what the issue is!" Ron said, flinging his arms up
triumphantly.

"The issue is that you lied, Ron," Hermione said, the volume of her voice
beginning to rise.

Ron's volume rose to match hers. "I was just getting him off of your back!" He
stood up from the bed. "I could see he was pestering you, so I just did it to
scare him off. I don't see what's so wrong with that!"

"He wasn't pestering me!" Hermione yelled. "And even if he was, it is not your
place to interfere! I could have dealt with it myself, and you know it. Why
didn't you just leave things be?"

The whole room fell silent. "I don't know." The dishonest look had reappeared.

"Yes, you do," Hermione snapped. "Why?"

"Is this even any of your business?"

Yes, Ron! You meddling in my life is my business! Why didn't you just keep
out? Whether or not Jake wants to go out with me is of no concern to you!"

Yes it is," Ron said. His voice was quieter now, with a slightly menacing note
that she had never heard before. "He's not good enough for you, Hermione."

She let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, that is just pathetic," she spat. "So, let me
ask you- who is good enough for me, Ron? Viktor isn't, Jake isn't, so who is?"

"Look, Hermione, you have to understand," Ron began earnestly, but she cut him
off.

"Understand what? Ron, I'm not Ginny. It isn't your duty to protect me from all
the big, bad boys that might hurt me and use me and-"

She was silenced by the feel of Ron's lips on hers as he kissed her
passionately. Shocked, she instinctively pulled away, before slapping him so
hard he almost fell down.

"What the hell did you do that for?" she screamed, rubbing her hand, which
stung from the force of the slap. Ron moved forward to approach her, but she
shoved him away again. "No, forget it," she said, turning away. "I don't want to
hear it."

"That's your problem, Hermione," Ron said, sitting down on the bed with a
violent thud. "You never want to hear it. You just don't listen. The only way to
shut you up for even a few seconds is to kiss you. It's not like you'd mind,
after all- you let Jake shove his tongue halfway down your throat, and you don't
like him."

Hurt and fury boiled in equal doses inside Hermione. So he didn't like her. He'd
didn't even think she'd care that he tried to kiss her! To him, she was just
some irritating chatterbox who'd only shut up if he tried to snog her. She had
lost all of his respect, all of her dignity. Her anger redoubled as she looked
at the callous smile on his face, completely different to the sweet, kind smile
that belonged to the Ron she loved, the Ron who didn't think of her in this way.
She realised that this was all her own fault- she should have just said no when
they were playing Spin the Bottle. She hated Ron, or at least the person in
front of her who looked like him. She just couldn't believe that her Ron would
ever be so cruel.

"I can't bear to look at you," she whispered, turning away from him to face the
door. "Maybe you should go."

"Maybe I should."

The next morning the sun was shining brilliant light throughout the Granger
household. Unfortunately, no one saw it. Mr Granger had left for work at the
crack of dawn- he wasn't one for long lies and hanging about. The earlier he
awoke, the more work he could cram into his busy schedule. His wife was up early
too. She was taking Ron to the station. Hermione had come to her as soon as she
had returned from work and told her that Ron wanted to go home. She had agreed
to take him to the station, but reluctantly. She didn't particularly want to get
in the middle of their argument (for she knew enough about her daughter to know
that when she locked herself in her room all day it could only be because of one
thing). The only train that went anywhere near where Ron lived left at five
forty in the morning, and so at ten past five, whilst the sun was barely peeping
out from behind its curtain of cloud, she helped Ron to load his heavy trunk
into the back of the car.

The trunk may have been heavy, but to Ron it felt like nothing compared to the
heavy weight sitting on his chest, squashing his heart to a bloody pulp. Why,
why, why had he tried to kiss her? There were approximately a million and one
more appropriate gestures that he could have made at that point. Of course she
didn't feel the same way. Why on earth would she? If she had liked him she would
have made a move herself before all this, and then they wouldn't have had this
argument and maybe they'd both be a little happier, and God only knows that
that'd never happen. The sole aim of the universe seemed to be to keep everyone
as downtrodden and miserable as possible.

Of course, the situation could have been salvageable, had it not been for the
presence of his big, fat mouth. He hadn't meant to say anything so insensitive-
he was going to kiss her and then tell her how he really felt. But her reaction
had thrown him into disarray- his brain had started to panic, sending out little
messages to his mouth saying, "ABORT! BACK AWAY! ABORT THE MISSION!" It had
hardly been a conscious decision to effectively call her a slut- it was the
first thing he could think of, the first logical explanation what wasn't the
truth. What was he going to say, that she had looked so beautiful when she was
angry that he just couldn't resist kissing her? He didn't even believe it, and
he knew it was the truth. Of course, he could have just saved himself some time
in the first place and not lied to Jake. Seemed these days he only opened his
mouth to change feet.

Hermione's curtains were closed, but she wasn't
asleep. She just couldn't bear to look out and see Ron. Not now. Not when she
knew what he thought of her. He didn't love her. She doubted he'd ever loved
her. And she knew for a fact that he would never love her. It was crystal clear.

With anyone else, an argument like that would have ended it all. She wouldn't
have been able to forgive them. But all she wanted now was for Ron to forgive
her, to take her back. She knew it was stupid- she hadn't done anything wrong,
she wasn't the one who needed forgiving- but for once she wasn't thinking
logically. All she could think of was Ron, and how things between them might
have been lost forever. About how she was going to have to go back to Hogwarts
in a few short weeks, and sit there, knowing what he thought of her and how she
felt for him, and having to deal with all of these feelings. She wouldn't be
able to run away, she couldn't avoid them- they were in most of their classes
together. He was inescapable.

The only thought that had cheered her up before the truth came out was the
chance that, however slim, Ron might like her back, that things could turn out
all right. But that dream had been blown out of the water now. It wasn't going
to happen. She felt so helpless, having these feelings and not being able to get
rid of them. The only thing she understood now was exactly how she felt for Ron.
The feeling in her throat, the knot in her stomach, the goose bumps she got
whenever he accidentally brushed against her. It was love, that was for sure.

And it cut through her like a knife.