Chapter 19: Still Friends

Ron hadn't touched his assignments since Thursday evening, his anxiety and focus for the upcoming Quidditch match pushing thoughts of it and everything else out of his mind on Friday night. Then on Saturday after the excitement of wining the match and his anger at Lavender Brown combined with curiosity of why Hermione had broken the connection as soon as she saw him, he hadn't been able to think let alone concentrate long enough on Saturday to finish his assignments.

So now here he was, Sunday evening, sitting with Rane at their usual table, aware of the fact that Lavender was watching the two of them closely, and unable to concentrate once again because Rane was sitting so near.

Shaking his head slightly Ron looked down at the half filled parchment before rubbing his eyes. What was he supposed to be writing about again? He looked to the title and his brain clicked back into gear. He was writing about the Patronous Charm. He ran his fingers through his already disheveled hair. This shouldn't be such a difficult assignment to complete. He had known about the charm since third year and Harry had taught it to them last year.

Ron dipped his quill into the ink and was just reading what he had last written when from the corner of his eye he saw that Rane had set her hand on the table precariously close to his. Ron stared at her hand for several seconds feeling the ever mounting need to reach out and take hold of it. He glanced up at Rane's concentrating face then down at her hand several times before finally coming to a decision.

He lifted his hand from where it rested on the table and moved it to hover over her fingers. His hand was just beginning to descend when there was a tapping at the window to Rane's right. She jumped with surprise moving her hand just before Ron's touched hers. Her head snapped to the window where there was a large bird perched on the window sill. Rane rose curiously to her feet as she examined the bird. "That's a Durmstrang Owl."

She unlatched the window, opening it wide as the bird took flight, swooping in and landing in front of Ron. Ignoring the owl, assuming that it was for Rane, he went back to his assignment, scribbling the first coherent thought he had. But when Rane tried to reach for the envelope the bird snapped angrily at her fingers. Eyes scrunched with curiosity she bent her head closer to look at the name inscribed on the missive.

"Ron." She straightened from her bowing position so that she could sink into the seat. "It's for you."

Ron looked up from his parchment, his face a mask of confusion. "What?"

"The letter." She pointed towards the large tawny bird. "It's for you."

Ron leaned forward to read his name written on the envelope, recognizing the handwriting instantly, before slinking back in the chair, arms crossed, his good mood rapidly disappearing. He sneered at the bird and said in a mutinous voice, "I should send it back unopened and see how she likes it."

Rane's mouth dropped with surprise. "Ronald Weasley, you'll do no such thing."

Ron stared irritably at the bird a minute, refusing to look over at Rane, before sighing heavily. "I know." Drawing out every movement for as long as he could, he leaned forward and untied the letter. As soon as it was free of its burden, the large owl swooped up and out of the open window. Rane stood to close it behind the bird while Ron slit open the seal and began to read. Rane gave the window a strong push and threw the latch back into place. Brushing her hands she turned around to ask Ron what it said but froze in shock. The seat Ron had been sitting in moments ago was empty. She looked around the room for sign of the tall red head but he was no where in sight. Ron was gone.

Panic ceased his heart as he spun and tumbled through the air, fingers glued magically to the slip of parchment. His mind raced with thoughts of horror, images of grave yards, Death Eaters, and killing curses filled his brain.

Suddenly the world stopped turning and his body hurtled downwards, but instead of making contact with hard floor he bounced lightly onto a soft surface.

"Excellent." Came a satisfied voice. "It worked." Ron tried to push himself up from his position lying flat on his stomach, but the soft fabric underneath him moved causing him to slip and land on his face once again. "I was a trifle worried that it wouldn't work." Continued the growingly more familiar voice. "Or that you wouldn't read the letter. But here you are."

Ron finally managed to flip over to a sitting position and found that he was in a bedroom, a girl's bedroom by the looks of it, and he was lying sprawled on a very soft bed with silky yellow covers.

"Wha…what's going on?" He looked around his heart still racing with panic, unsure of where he was or how exactly he had gotten there. Finally he saw a figure standing in the shadows near the door, arms crossed in front of its chest.

"Settle down, Ron." The voice commanded as the figure stepped out of the darkness and into the lamp light. Ron's mouth gapped open in surprise. "My parents don't know you're here and would not approve of you being on my bed if they did, so keep quiet."

"Hermione!" Ron scampered off the soft mattress as quickly as he could and pressed himself up against the nearest wall, Shaking his head with disbelief. "I…I thought you were suppose to be in Bulgaria." Slowly he lowered his right hand to pat his pocket where he stored his wand.

"I am supposed to be in Bulgaria." She said dismissively as she took another step forward.

Ron's heart reared with panic when he realized his wand wasn't in the pocket where he normally carried it, remembering with a start that it was sitting back in the Gryffindor common room on the table where he had been revising with Rane.

"Then what are you doing here?" he asked as he slowly started inching his way along the wall toward the door.

Hermione sighed with exasperation. "For pity sake Ron," she snapped. "I'm not a Death Eater."

Ron ceased his slow movement along the wall. "How do I know that?"

"You're asking for proof?" her voice rang with disbelief.

"Yeah." He straightened, regaining some of his confidence. "I'm asking for proof."

"Your greatest fear is spiders." She said instantly, her right brow arched, her lips spread in a knowing smirk.

"Anyone could figure that one out."

"Yes, but does everyone know that it was because your brother turned your teddy bear into one when you were little?"

Ron's nose twitched in thought. "I suppose that would be a little more difficult to find out." He conceded.

"I also know," Hermione continued, "that your bedroom at the Burrow is on the very top floor, right under the attic and that a ghoul lives above you. And your favorite team is the Chuddley Cannons. You have their posters pinned up all over the walls and ceiling of your room." She took a step closer to him. "I know that Harry and I helped Sirius escape when we were third years, on the back of a hipogryph named Buckbeak. I know that your rat Scabbers was really Peter Pettigrew and that your owl Pigwidgeon, the one that has been trying to deliver letters to me all year, was given to you by Sirius Black because he felt that it was his fault that you lost your pet. Would you like me to keep going?"

Ron slouched away from the wall, the tension leaving his body. "No that's fine." He continued to watch her for several minutes until Hermione squirmed with discomfort. Finally he broke the silence by asking. "Where am I? And how did I get here?"

"You're at my house. This is my bedroom."

Having never stepped further into Hermione's house then her entrance hall, Ron turned in a slow circle taking in every aspect of her room. Even with the dim lighting shed by the one lamp sitting on her bedside table he could still tell that the room was bright and cheerful. The comforter, which he had landed on when he arrived, was a brilliant butter yellow. The head of the bed was pushed up against the wall with a table on one side and a book shelf that nearly reached the ceiling on the other. The shelves were crammed with hundreds of books, all of them worn and well read and obviously loved. The room wasn't very big, just large enough to house a desk, one more bookshelf crammed full of her old school books and awards, and a set of dresser drawers.

Hermione lowered her head as she cast around in her brain for something, anything to break the heavy silence that had settled upon the room as Ron continued to look at her belongings. Curiosity must have gotten the better of him for he was now standing beside her bed switching her lamp on and off with awe evident on his face. "What do you call this?" He finally asked, holding the lit lamp up for Hermione to see.

"It's called a lamp." She pried the object gently from his fingers and set it back where it belonged. "Ron I brought you here to talk."

Ron spun around suddenly to face her. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked with puzzlement.

"Bring me here? One minute I was sitting in the common room revising with Rane…"

"Rane?"

"Yeah, Rane. And then your letter arrives and the next thing I know I'm flying through space and landing here. How did you do that? That wasn't a normal portkey."

"No it wasn't." Hermione sank onto her bed and indicated for Ron to do the same. Instead of taking a seat next to her he moved to the desk chair and sat in it. She felt a slight twinge in her heart when she saw how far away from her he was. "Er…the letter, it was a portkey. For one of my assignments this year we were to write on portkeys and I ran across this obscure form where you can imbedded it in a letter so that only when the intended recipient reads a certain line it will transport them to the desired destination."

Ron's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "That's an excellent bit of magic. How long did it take you to learn that?"

Hermione shrugged dismissively. "A few hours. The hard part was getting the reader to land exactly where I wanted them." She patted the bed, for example. "I thought it would make for a softer landing."

"All right." He nodded. "Now that I know where I am, and how I got here, would you mind telling me what I'm doing here?"

Hermione looked away from him now, unable to stand the steady gaze he pinned her with. She licked her lips nervously, as they had suddenly gone quite dry as did the rest of her throat. She tried to swallow and wet her tongue, but the action seemed useless in her nervousness. "I wanted to apologize." Her eyes wandered slowly up until she was looking once again into his bright blue orbs. "I'm so sorry, Ron. I never should have run away like that, I never should have sent back your letters, and I…" She took a deep breath and swallowed trying to remove the ball that stuck in her throat. "I never should have called you a weasel and a pauper." Tears began to glide down her cheeks as she watched Ron cross his arms stiffly in front of his chest and lean back in his chair.

"I don't know what came over me that day." She continued finding it harder to keep her emotions in check. "Never mind that day. I don't know what came over me. You know I don't think you're a weasel or a pauper, don't you Ron?"

"It's all right, Hermione." He leaned forward. "You don't have to apologize."

"Yes I do." She said sternly, daring him to contradict her. "You made one mistake Ron, and I blew it out of proportion. You asked me to forgive you and I wouldn't. And I'm so sorry for that."

"Hermione…"

"Let me finish." She rose to her feet and began pacing a path in front of him. "I need you to understand why I did what I did. You see it wasn't really the name that hurt." She stopped and looked into his eyes. "It was the fact that you called me it." Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again. She lowered her eyes humbly when he continued to stare at her. "I was so in love with you…and when I heard you call me a Mudblood I ... I took it as a rejection. And the idea of having to see you everyday, knowing that you didn't want me, was too much."

"Hermione, all you had to do was read one of my letters to know that wasn't true."

"I know." She sank dejectedly back on the bed.

Ron massaged his face with his hands, his eyes never leaving her. "Do you know what it felt like every time Pig came back?"

"No." her voice cracked. "I don't."

"It felt like something inside of me was dying. I don't ever want to feel like that again."

"I don't want you to either."

Ron forced his chin to remain firm, "So you understand why I can't do it again."

Hermione shifted anxiously. "Do what exactly?"

"This." He rose slowly to his feet so that he was looking down on her. "I finally got over you Hermione…I can't go back." Ron saw the tears swell in her eyes and her chin shake as she struggled to hold back her tears. "You have Bjorn now. Don't you"

Hermione shook her head ardently. "I'm not seeing him anymore."

Ron's eyes flared with ire. "So now that you don't have him I'm good enough? Is that it?"

"No!" Hermione gasped, her eyes wide with alarm. "I was the one who ended it with him. It wasn't fair for him. Not while…" she looked away. "…not while I was still in love with you."

Ron shook his head, taking a step away from her. "I'm sorry Hermione. I can't." He shrugged his broad shoulders uncertainly. "I'm happy. And I think there might be someone else."

Hermione rose to her feet with a start. "But you said I was your one and only."

He physically flinched as he turned away from her. "I don't believe in the One and Only anymore." He looked back at her over his shoulder. "And someone as sensible and logical as you shouldn't either."

Hermione felt a sudden wave of incredible loss sweep through her. Had she done this to him? "Is…is this because of Lavender?" she finally asked, wiping furiously at her eyes, trying to erase her tears before he had a chance to see them.

"Lavender?" he snorted. "Bloody hell. What would give you that idea?"

"I thought…" she stammered.

"Actually," he interrupted, taking the few steps to her desk where he picked up a picture sitting there of Harry, him and Hermione. "I had someone else in mind." He studied the photo for several seconds before setting the frame abruptly down. He turned to face her. "I was with her when your letter arrived. So, if you don't mind I would like to go back. She must be worried about where I am."

"Oh…" Hermione chocked out. "Right." She pushed her dark curls out of her face as she looked about. "I'll just…Where is the letter?" Her voice was low and ruff with emotion. She looked over the side of her bed as she explained. "I can use it to send you back."

Joining Hermione in her search, Ron crouched down beside the bed. He found the rumpled piece of parchment far beneath the bed, assuming that it must have slipped there when he landed. He offered it to Hermione who took it quickly, turning away from him, but not quickly enough. Ron saw the torrent of tears slipping swiftly and silently down her face. He stiffened his spine and looked away. He never could stand to see her cry.

"Ron," she turned back to him, handing him the letter after casting the appropriate charm, not looking at his face. "Do you think…" she closed her eyes, "could we still be friends?"

His breath escaped in a long sigh of uncertainty. "That's a lot to ask, Hermione."

"You said you would always love me." She argued. "In your letter you wrote that you would always be here for me and when I was ready to forgive you, you would be waiting."

Ron nodded reluctantly. "I did say that. But…"

"Please, Ron," she pleaded taking hold of his arm. "I've discovered what life is like without having you as a friend… and I don't want that anymore."

Ron set his fingers gently on hers before gently prying them away. "You hurt me, Mione. I can't just forget and be your friend again. It'll take some time before I can trust you."

Hermione stared at him a moment in stunned silence, before chin quivering, she nodded, taking several shaky breaths. "Could I at least write to you? You know, start over?"

Ron stared at her a moment, eyes scrunched in contemplation. Finally he gave his head a reluctant nod. "Let's start over."

She smiled heartbreakingly through her tears. "Thank you." She went to give him a hug but he stepped back out of her reach.

When she looked up at him with a mixture of hurt and puzzlement he held up the letter. "Why don't you tell me how I get back?"

"Right." She swallowed audibly, taking a step back. "Read the last line. It will bring you back to where you came from."

Hermione turned away as Ron unfolded the letter. His eyes narrowed as he tried to make out her miniscule handwriting. "I lov..." was all he managed to read aloud when with a whoosh like the wind he was gone, leaving Hermione to gasp with pain as she sank down on her bed, knuckles jammed in her mouth to stifle her sobs.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron cursed as he landed uncomfortably in his chair, banging his elbow on the edge of the solid table.

"Ron!" he looked up to see Rane hurtling across the common room towards him, giving him just enough time to open his arms and catch her when she threw herself at him, causing the chair to wobble on two legs before settling back into place. "I was so worried." She hugged him close. "Thank God you're all right." She pulled away to look at him more closely. "What happened?"

Realizing suddenly how close to him she was Rane scampered off his lap which she had landed in and backed away, tucking her hair behind her ear, a habit Ron noticed she had when ever she grew nervous. "We were so worried about you. Harry and Ginny are out looking for you know. When you disappeared like that we thought…"

The portrait hole slammed open. "Ron!" Harry cried as he hurtled into the room, tucking a piece of worn paper into his pocket as he did. "Are you all right? What happened? Merlin, mate. You scared us half to death. First you disappear, then we receive…"

"That was Hermione's doing."

"What was?"

Ron rose uncomfortably to his feet, his body aching from the uncomfortable landing it had taken. "My vanishing act. She wanted to talk to me alone and coming to the castle was apparently not an option." He rubbed methodically at his sore hip. "I've never received a direct summons before, but I don't imagine it gets much more direct then that."

"Wait, wait, wait." Harry held up a single hand. "Hermione summoned you from the castle?" Ron nodded. "To where?"

"Her house."

Harry's eyes widened. "Hermione's in England. What is she doing back?"

"I just told you. She needed to speak with me. Harry calm down." Ron ordered when his friend began to pace anxiously. "What has gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" Harry took the few steps it took to be standing directly in front of Ron. "This is what has gotten into me." Harry reached around Ron to pull a news paper off the table and thrust it into his friend's hands.

Ron flipped open The Evening Prophet to reveal the pictures of Lucius Malfoy, and the other Death Eater's from the Ministry of Magic break in, sneering up at him. Above the row of portraits in big blazzen letters were the words.

Known Death Eaters at Large.

Second Mass Breakout in Azkaban History.

Ron looked up with a start. "Malfoy's out?"

Harry took back the paper. "Malfoy's out. When you disappeared like that we thought the Death Eaters got you."

"Shite!" Ron swore, thrusting his fingers through his disheveled hair. "How did the Ministry let this happen?"

"I don't know, but that's not the worst of it."

Ron glared at Harry skeptically. "How could it get worse?"

"Draco, Crabe, Goyle and Parkinson are all missing as well."

"Wonderful," Ron slumped in his chair. "Just what I needed right now. More things to worry about."

"Why?" Harry took the seat that had belonged to Rane. "What did Hermione want?"

"To beg for my forgiveness," Ron paused, unsure of how much he should share with Harry, "and to ask if we could be friends again."

"And?"

"And…" he paused, "I agreed to write to her. Like I said to her, I can't just be friends again. We need to start over." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. So we agree to write and see how things go from there."

Harry tilted his head to observe his friend, and noticed the way that Ron was avoiding looking at him, and how his skin was slightly flushed. "You can use the mirror when ever you need to." Harry offered tentatively.

Ron shook his head adamantly. "I don't think that will be necessary. I'll just stick to owl post. Besides, I hate that ruddy mirror."