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CHAPTER 3

After Potions, Hermione told Harry and Ron that she would meet them in Charms. She then went straight to the girl's lavatory. Luckily, there were no other students using this bathroom because as soon as Hermione entered she burst into tears. Wiping them away angrily she went to look in one of the mirrors. Oh! What was the matter with her? She had already shed a few tears in class, and that should have been enough. It would have been enough if Ron hadn't taken her hand in his.

It had been one of the best feelings in the world! Her whole body had felt charged with electricity. His hand had been callused and warm; it had been wonderful. She had immediately forgotten all about Malfoy's harsh words. Which was, she told herself, exactly what Ron had meant to accomplish…console his friend. Which was, exactly why she was in the loo blubbering like Moaning Murtle! Why was it so hard to just be friends with Ron Weasley?

If she didn't get a hold on reality soon, she would go mad! It was just that every now and then, Ron would do something to surprise her. Something like handholding…something that made her wonder, what if he feels the same way I do? But that was ridiculous! He'd hold Ginny's hand if she were upset! He was a compassionate person. It was nothing more than a friendly gesture of comfort.

Hermione was glad that the rest of their classes that day were uneventful in comparison to Potions. She didn't know how much stress she could take at one time, and it was piling on quick.

Professor Flitwick taught them a simple Vanishing Charm. Abeorior…it was similar to the Summoning Charm, except the items would disappear as they traveled. Also, the vanishing item could be made to reappear at any spot visible to the spell caster. But, unlike the Summoning Charm, the item must be insight to use the spell. Pillows were disappearing and reappearing all over the classroom. One of them actually reappeared on Professor Flitwick's desk, spilling a full bottle of ink. And, Hermione noticed, Parvati Patil had gone remarkably red when it had happened.

Transfiguration went by as normal as it ever had. Professor McGonagall had asked that they spend the class period practicing basic transfiguring. Each student was supposed to transform three small stones into three small teacups. Hermione managed to turn all of her stones into perfectly formed teacups within the first ten minutes of class. Ron had had a bit more difficulty. By the end of the period, two of his rocks had transformed into teabags, while one could actually pass for a fair tea…mug.

Hermione had scolded him for his lack of concentration, and had immediately felt guilty. He had rolled his eyes and ignored her the rest of class by talking with Harry, whose teacups didn't look all that great either. She didn't mean to be so bossy, but transfiguring was really so simple. Plus, Ron had managed to get E's on his O.W.L.'s in Transfiguration! That proved to her that he just wasn't concentrating.

How could she ever even dream that Ron might like her as more than a friend? A romantic relationship with a nag is probably the last thing Ron wanted…or needed. Yet, this thought only made Hermione in the mood to nag more.

"Okay, so tomorrow we have Healing with Sinistra first thing in the morning…followed by our N.E.W.T. classes, right?" Ron asked on their way up to the common room after classes.

"That's right." Hermione said briskly.

"And, what were your N.E.W.T. classes for Administration again?" Harry asked curiously.

"I had a few classes to choose from, but I chose to continue studying Ancient Runes and Arithmancy." Hermione replied. She looked at Harry and Ron enviously. "Of course, I would love to take that History of the Dark Arts class with you Harry. And Ron…that Magical Law class…wow…and you also get to take Geography of the Magical World! Those should be fascinating! I almost wish I had McGonagall's Time-Turner again…"

"No!" Harry and Ron exclaimed in unison. Hermione stopped in her tracks with surprise. They were both looking at her with horrified stares.

"I was only saying that I think your classes would be interesting. I'm not actually thinking of using that thing again. Do you think I'm mad?" Hermione said defensively as they resumed their walking.

"Yes." Ron said with an adorable smile on his face. Hermione rolled her eyes at him. He was even charming when he was insulting her!

"So, what about Defense Against the Dark Arts, then? I thought Dumbledore always introduced new teachers after the Sorting Hat Ceremony." Ron asked as they finally reached the portrait hole door.

"Weeping Daisy." Hermione said to the Fat Lady. The portrait door swung open and the three of them climbed in. "Ron, you really should learn to listen when people make announcements." Hermione said haughtily. Ron frowned at her.

"After that bloody song? I bet Harry didn't hear, either, did ya Harry?"

"Actually, yeah. It was a…Professor White. No, Professor Whitehall." Harry replied proudly. Hermione rolled her eyes again.

"Professor Edgar Whitman! He graduated from the Kilmore School of Magic in Australia. He's still in Auror training, so Defense Against the Dark Arts classes won't start until after Christmas holiday. He will have graduated by then." Hermione spat impatiently. She really doubted either of her two friends would ever learn to listen.

"No Defense Against the Dark Arts until after Christmas? But…they can't do that! We've already wasted a whole year with that Umbridge hag!" Ron exclaimed angrily.

"Oh honestly, Ronald! Dumbledore also announced that all teachers would set one class period aside every two weeks to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts to their classes!" Hermione replied scornfully. Ron simply turned to give Harry a questioning look.

"Yeah. I heard that bit at least. It should do alright until after Christmas I suppose." Harry said, twisting his mouth. He didn't look satisfied, and neither was Hermione. She felt that they needed all the defense training that they could get. She'd almost died last term! And, although almost doesn't count, this dream of Harry's gave Hermione an incentive to be as prepared as possible…for anything.

That night Ron had trouble getting to sleep again. After fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, Harry actually asked if he were all right. When Harry hadn't heard Ron's loud snoring, he must have thought something was up. There was nothing wrong with him, though. Well, other than the fact that his two best friends' lives may be on the line. But…that actually wasn't it. What else could I be worried about? It was this question that he continued to ask himself until he fell into a restless sleep…

Everything was black, but he could hear something in the distance. Was it a voice? He began to run toward the sound, but it only seemed to get softer. Where was he? He couldn't see a thing; he stopped. Then he heard it louder than ever. Someone was shouting his name!

"Ron! Ron!"

He knew that voice. She sounded like she was in trouble! He had to reach her, but he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face.

"RON!"

"Hermione!" Ron whispered into the quiet dormitory as he awoke with a start. He was breathing heavily and he had apparently kicked all of the covers off of his bed. Looking around the room he saw that nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were all sleeping peacefully.

Getting out of his four-poster bed and grabbing his wand off of his nightstand, Ron quietly patted his bare feet down the cold stone stairs and into the common room. Everything was black, but he could hear something by the hearth…it was the sound of someone crying.

"Lumos." Ron whispered urgently, and a beam of white light shot out of his wand tip. Holding it above his head, he saw the tear-stained face of Hermione looking up at him from the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"Ron?" Hermione said, quickly wiping the tears from her face with the backs of her hands. "What…what are you…"

"What's happened?" Ron interrupted her urgently as he made his way to the couch and kneeled in front of a puzzled looking Hermione. He laid his still lit wand on the coffee table.

"Nothing's happened. It's just…I was…what are you doing out of bed?" Hermione's eyes drifted quickly and timidly over Ron before she looked down at her knees.

It was then that Ron realized that in his haste, he had neglected to put on a shirt; he was simply wearing some flannel pajama pants. His arms instantly crossed over his barren and freckled chest as he stood up. He would have probably been unbearably embarrassed if he weren't astonished at the fact that he had known, somehow, that Hermione was in distress. His dream had forewarned him. Oh no, he thought, I better not be turning into Harry! With Harry's most recent dream on Ron's mind, he quickly decided on not telling Hermione about his own dream.

"I just…couldn't sleep. But I don't believe that 'nothing's happened' to you. Why are you down here in the middle of the night…crying?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Hermione muttered unconvincingly, still looking at her knees. He hated when she said that! Nothing good ever came from a conversation with Hermione that started with, 'I don't want to talk about it.'

"Hermione, don't be…"

"I don't want to talk about it, Ronald!" Hermione said defiantly before standing up to pace the floor in front of the sofa. Wow…she'd said it twice. She would never tell him what was wrong when she was in this state. Or would she? Ron had a sudden idea.

"I know what it is!" Ron said with mock irritation. Hermione stopped pacing immediately to peer up at him with suspicion.

"You…you do not, Ron." Hermione said with one eyebrow raised.

"Oh yes I do. You're angry with me!"

"What?" Hermione said stunned. "What are you talking about?"

"You're mad that I did such a poor job today in Transfiguration class. You've convinced yourself that I wasn't even trying. Well, I was doing the best that I could!" Ron was trying to sound convincing, and it was actually quite simple. This sounded just like the beginnings of one of the rows they might have had last term…or the one before that…or the one before that.

"Ron, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever…"

"Well, I don't believe you. I know you think I'm just a lousy sloth, Hermione! I'm going back to bed." Ron spun around and started slowly to the boy's dormitory stairwell.

"Wait!" Hermione called, stopping him in his tracks. He smiled inwardly at his stroke of genius. "It's…it's Malfoy." Ron wheeled around on his heel so fast he almost fell over backward. He marched over to Hermione and stood a mere foot from her face.

"What? What do you mean? What has he done? Where is he? Did you leave the common room tonight? What…"

"Ron!" Hermione said putting a soft hand to his chest to stop his barrage of questions. She was apparently reminded that he was bare-chested as she pulled her hand away as if being burned. She quickly regained her composure, although, Ron's skin seemed to be blazing where her hand had been. "Ron, I've been thinking about what Malfoy said right before Potions class today. I know I should ignore him, but what he said…and then remembering Harry's dream…it might, I mean…he had a point, you know?"

Ron felt as if his heart were breaking. He couldn't stand to see Hermione in shreds over something Draco Malfoy had said. This is exactly what Malfoy had been trying to do…scare her. And he had been wrong to think that she had stopped worrying about Harry's dream of the kidnapping. Apparently, neither of them had forgotten it.

"Hermione…" Ron began softly.

"Ron, listen. I am Muggle-Born, and I am close to Harry Potter. Now whether Harry's dream was real or not, there's two solid reasons why I'm a prime target for any Death Eater of Vol…"

"Hermione!" Ron shouted a little louder than he had intended. She closed her mouth abruptly. He couldn't bear to hear her utter the fear that had given him many sleepless nights over the summer. Taking a steadying breath he continued. "Hermione, I have three reasons why you don't have anything to worry about. One, you are at Hogwarts, possibly the safest place in the world. Two, the headmaster is Albus Dumbledore, the strongest wizard in the world. And, three…" Ron raked a nervous hand through his hair, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you…all right?"

They were still standing a foot apart, but now they were simply staring at one another. Ron thought Hermione looked as though she were about to say something, but when she opened her mouth, a distressed sigh was the only sound to exit. More tears began falling down her face. He didn't know if he'd ever seen Hermione like this…so scared…and, damn it…vulnerable.

Ron, uncertain of what to do, closed the foot of space between them and wrapped his arms around Hermione, who then rested her face and hands on his chest to sob. Her wet face was pressed hard against him. They'd never hugged like this before. There had been countless times in the past when he'd wanted to embrace her in this way, and it was even better than he'd expected.

His whole body was warm, and he knew she must be able to feel and hear his rapidly beating heart. Was this a friendly embrace of condolence? Ron was sure it was to Hermione, but what was it to him? Why did he feel as though he would be losing something when this hug ended…and…why did his knees suddenly feel like they were made of gelatin?

Hermione's fresh tears had stopped, leaving her face feeling warm and sticky. She was greedily leaning on Ron's chest; once she let go, there was no guarantee that she would ever find herself wrapped warmly in his arms again.

This was the first time she'd ever seen Ron without his shirt on, and quite possibly the last. Unless she staged another sob-fest…Hermione! She berated herself for even letting it cross her mind. Ron had absolutely no idea that while he was giving his friend a comforting hug, she was concentrating on the curves of his lean torso and how warm it was against her face…the feel of his arms squeezed tightly about her back. He had no idea that she was taking deep breaths, trying to memorize his scent. He smelled of simple soap and an earthy, yet sweet smell that Hermione guessed was just…Ron.

Wrapped warmly in his arms…there was something different about this hug. They'd never hugged quite like this before. Right before he had embraced her, Hermione had seen something in Ron's eyes. It was a mixture of emotions…concern, sympathy…but something else. It was one of those looks he gave her from time to time that made this 'crush' she had even harder to endure.

It had surely been an hour since Ron first entered the common room. She couldn't keep him down here all night; they both needed their sleep. Slowly and with much regret, Hermione pushed herself back from her tower of comfort. Ron's hands fell slowly to his sides. He was looking down at her now with furrowed brows and a slight frown.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Hermione rose up on her toes, placed her hands lightly on Ron's shoulders, and brushed her lips over his cheek. His face had a light covering of stubble that tickled her mouth.

"Thank you." She whispered beside his cheek, before she quickly turned and ascended the stairs to her dormitory, without a backward glance.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wanted to thank everyone that has sent in a review. This being my first fan-fiction, I was very pleased to see that everyone's liked my story so far! I was actually going to go to bed and post this tomorrow afternoon, but after reading the reviews I just had to give ya'll more to read. .-.>