Looking back, Hermione could remember every excruciating detail of that awful week. The most memorable and most painful episode was on the Wednesday. First up they had had double potions. By the time she had arrived, Harry and Ron were sitting at the front work table with the Hufflepuff Ernie Macmillan, and, to her horror, Draco Malfoy, who, she noted, didn't look very happy to be there.
"Ah, Hermione!" Boomed Professor Slughorn, "You have decided to join us! We are working in groups today, so would you care to take a seat..."
Hermione looked with dread over to the only remaining seat, and her fears were confirmed. She had been placed with three Slytherins.
For the rest of the week, she was given the cold shoulder by Ron and all the other Gryffindor seventh years. The only one to make contact was Harry, smiling apologetically every time they walked past each other. The rest of the boy avoided her eyes.
On Thursday, she tried sitting with Parvati and Lavender in class, but found it too distracting. They were always whispering and giggling through the teacher's instructions, turning around and making eyes at the boys behind them. On one occasion, Hermione caught Lavender making eyes at Ron; she had evidently not gotten over their passionate affair the year before. Hermione's eyes filled with tears; how could she have been so stupid?
"Hermione?" She looked up. Ginny's worried, brown eyes looked down at her.
She was sitting underneath a tree by the lake, 'When the beasts get beastly' was lying in her lap. The only unusual thing about the scene? The parchment pages of the book were speckled with tears.
She poured her heart out. She had to stop many times as the tears engulfed her, but Ginny was patient. Finally she sat, hiccupping, her book discarded.
"Why don't you tell him?" Ginny asked.
"Because he hates me!" was Hermione's answer.
"He doesn't, Dear God he doesn't," Ginny said.
"But after Friday-"
"He loves you all the more! Talk to him. He'll understand. Now, I have to go and get changed for Quiddich." Ginny said.
"Quiddich..." Hermione repeated.
Her hands were sweaty. Her breath coming fast to her lungs, her eyes glued to the dressing room door. She had decided. She was going to tell him tonight.
Her heart leapt. There he was, his red hair glowing like a bushfire,
Ron..." She started forward. "I need to talk to you." He kept walking. "Ron..."
He stopped abruptly. She nearly walked straight into him.
"What?" He snarled.
"I need to..."
"I have nothing to say to you."
"But I do." She ploughed on. "What you said in the Three Broomsticks..." She paused, drawing for breath.
"Me too."
She looked into his eyes, and knew he felt the same way.
Well, there you are! Tell me what you think! Feedback people please!
