Hermione woke the next morning. Her hair was crumpled, and she had apparently fallen asleep in her clothes. Ginny was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling.
"Hey." Hermione said.
"Hi." Ginny answered, not taking her eyes off the ceiling.
"How did it go?" Hermione asked.
"Well, he just said he didn't know what he wanted. And I told him I couldn't be with him." Ginny answered numbly.
"Oh." Hermione said.
"You and Ron work things out?" Ginny asked, still staring at the ceiling.
"I suppose. We did well enough, anyway." Hermione said.
"Oh." Ginny whispered.
"I got to go talk to Fred." Hermione got off her bed and left the room. She looked at her watch. It read 6:17.
She tiptoed down the hall as to not wake anyone. She opened the twin's door quietly. Fred was lying on his stomach, a soft snore escaping through his mouth. Hermione walked over and pulled the cover down and lie next to him. His eyes flickered open.
"Mione?" Fred asked.
Hermione kissed him passionately. "I'm here."
Fred turned on his side and held her in his arms. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep again. This is right, she thought. Hermione closed her eyes and fell asleep, warm in Fred's arms.

Three hours later, Hermione woke. There was a note taped to the bedside table scribbled hurriedly. It was obviously from Fred.

Mione,

Out at the Quidditch pitch with Harry and George. You were still sleeping, so I didn't wake you. See you when your up.

Love,

Fred

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The mirror across the room reflected her rather disheveled appearance. Oh, god, I look like shit, Hermione thought, her reflection making her jump.

She got up and began to walk down the hall back to her room to fix her appearance. But there was a voice. Not a bad one, not an unknown one. She knew this one very well.

"Is this more than you bargained for yet, Oh don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet, Wishing to be the friction in your jeans, Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him, I'm just a notch in your bedpost, But you're just a line in a song…" It was Ron's voice. Singing one of her favorite songs. "Sugar We're Going Down" by Fall Out Boy.

Hermione opened the door. Ron was throwing dirty clothes into his laundry basket. A photo album was on the floor. Pictures of Ron and Hermione scattered everywhere, some of them ripped.

She picked one up. It was from sixth year when they had dated briefly. Ron's arm was wrapped gently around her waist. Hermione was kissing him on the cheek. I remember that day, she thought. But this feeling…what was it? Oh, god, this is getting twisted, she thought, as a feeling came buzzing through her.

Ron turned around, his face a bit shocked. "Hey."

"Hi. I, umm, heard you singing." Hermione said quietly.

"Oh, yeah, it's a good song. Doesn't mean anything." Ron said, as he continued throwing clothes around the room.

"And either do these, right?" She questioned, holding the picture up.

"Nope. I was cleaning that's all." He replied, taking a seat on his bed.

Hermione didn't know why. She didn't know how. But it happened. She walked over to Ron, and kissed him. Not a full kiss, but a light one.