(A/N) I'm sorry, I hate author notes, if it is I can be called an author, but I would just like to inform all spelling and grammar nazis that I've been using "WordPad" which doesn't have spellcheck or my other good buddy, grammarcheck, because my new computer doesn't have Word. I will surely miss thee, oh gracious duo.

The Sickness

Over the next few days, Ron's anger had not seemed to ebb in the slightest bit. Hermione tried all she could to help him but he would only explode in her face. It has to be Quidditch, she thought. The first game was coming up and Ron was beginning to have doubts. He became quite the beast. Harry did anything he thought would get Ron to play at his top game but it seemed to only make matters worse. He never noticed, as it was that he was being grumpy and surly with Hermione. The moring of the big match, Ron was miserable. Harry came upon a stroke of inspiration; it was last hope. He glanced around. Hermione had hesitated to come down to breakfast with them because of Ron's unpleasant behavior. As Hermione was lightly stepping her way to the great hall, two fingers rapped her shoulders. She whipped around to face the owner of the fingers. Before her stood a Ravenclaw prefect.

"What have I done?" she gasped.

"What? Oh, nothing. Nothing," he shook his head. "Hermione, are you serious about me?"

"What the HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!" she raised her voice but he quickly silenced her and pulled her behind a statue. "Let go of me!"

"Hermione, please! I need to know."

"Need to know what? What are you talking about? Have you gone mad! I don't even know you!"

"Don't play like that. If you're serious I have to know. I don't want our relationship to just be a way to releave ourselves. I want committment too."

"Excuse me? I have no idea what you are talking about. Get away from me psycho." Hermione ran away from the brown haired boy with a pounding heart. What the hell was that all about? Was he coming on to me? Was that a horrible practical joke! Her mind was going a mile a minute. She found the boys and tried to act natural when approaching the huge breakfast table. She never wanted the two to know about that crazy prefect. "How are you both feeling?" she asked tentatively, her eyes on the back of Ron's head. She had remembered his unpleasentness.

"Fine," Harry said while handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."

"Don't drink that, Ron!" said Hermione sharply just as Ron had the glass raised to his lips.She had seen Harry tip something into Ron's drink. Harry pretended not to understand Hermione's accusations.

"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!"

"Stop bossing me around, Hermione," he said after draining his glass in one gulp.

After a few terse words, Hermione stormed away. What the hell is his problem! Bossing him around! Argh! He's such a pick! How did I ever find anything in that lug! Hermione was fuming during the entire match. She could careless if the team did any good. Of course Ron is doing great. she thought. She shot her angry eyes at Harry. What a cheater. I can't believe him. The match seemed a blur. Harry had finally caught the snitch and won it for Gryffindor. Ginny ran her broom into the commentator's podium, straight at Zacharias. Ha! That's what he deserves! Hermione laughed along with many other Gryffindors. The house was in such a frenzy. Of course there was going to be a party. Before Hermione turned back to the common room, she entered the changing room where she knew only Ron and Harry were.

"I want a word with you, Harry," she said as she wrung her scarf in her hands. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."

"What are you going to do, turn us in?" demanded Ron. This drove a small nail into Hermione's already tattered heart.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry.

Ignoring her pain, Hermione went on shrilly, "You know perfectly well what we're talking about! You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"

Harry had turned to them to show his broad, grinning face. He hadn't slipped the golden liquid into Ron's juice. He even flashed the potion to prove it. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself." he said to Ron.

Ron was astonished and gaped for a moment then turned to Hermione. In a mocking tone: "You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything! See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!"

Offended and on the verge of tears, Hermione retorted: "I never said you couldn't -- Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!" But Ron had already strutted past her and out of the changing room. Harry was uncertain on what to say; he didn't expect his plan to backfire like this. He weakly suggested to go to the party. The tears had finally come. "You go! I'm sick of Ron at the moment, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done..." Hermione stormed out of the changing room. What could I have done? she began. What did I do? How did things come to this? I know we were never the best couple but I really think it's almost over. I have to think of some way to repair this relationship. Their bridge was crumbling. Hermione used all the mortor she could but it did nothing to stabelize the decaying bridge. She was so deep in her ponderings that her feet led the way back to the castle. Could nothing save us? Would it be better if we just went back to being friends? No, it would never be the same. This realization crashed a new wave of tears. It can't end like this! I won't give up! All good things take time and effort. We'll pull through. But what if he get tired of me? New fears shot through her. She then hurried back to the common room. Perhaps she could get there before Ron and doll herself up. With every step, a new idea popped into her mind. I could wear my hair like that...Oh! I could wear this...YES! We'll be happy yet! Finally satisfied with a potential ansamble, Hermione climbed into the portrait hole. No sooner had she rested her second foot she saw them. In the corner of the crowded room, Ron and Lavender Brown were so tightly wrapped around the other that it was impossible to tell which arms belonged to whom. Hermione had no time to think. She didn't know what to do anymore. She knew that all she had to do was get out of there; stumbling out the the portrait hole and into the first unlocked class room she could find. She had no time for tears. She was completely numb. Unconsciously, she transfigured a few things on the professor's desk into fat yellow birds. The yellow things circled her overhead as she slumped on to the desk. She had little time to think by herself for Harry soon followed her.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she said brittly. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah...they're -- er--really good..." he managed to get out.

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations," she said in an unnaturally high vioce. There was little exchange before Ron came laughing and pulling Lavender in by the hand. They stopped short at the sight of Harry and Hermione.

"Oops." Lavender slipped out of the room giggling. Her high pitched girl giggle annoyed Hermione, as though it were mocking her; Lavender mocked her. The laughter ecoed in the thick silence of the spacious room. This was it. The bridge was now completely demolished. There was no turning back. A madness came over Hermione. She felt like nothing was left. There were no tears now; there was only a vindictive urge. It doesn't matter anymore! Ha! I wasted all this time! She ridgedly walked toward the door. She tried to leave with dignity but the revenge won out.

"Oppugno!" she shrieked. Her flock of birds began attacking Ron. Every bit of exposed skin was pecked and clawed at. Ron's struggling yelps could be heard as Hermione walked out of the door.

So, that's it. There is nothing left for me there. It's all over. To hell with him! I thought...I thought I loved him...I thought he loved me... Her stoic heart could no longer hold its own. She cried. She didn't care who was around. She cried as she walked through the halls. She didn't know where her feet were leading her but she didn't care anymore. She kept walking, all the while rivers flowed. Finally, she was tired. She was tired of walking. She was tired of the tears. She was tired of all the drama. She was tired of everything. She slumped against the cold stone wall. It soothed her. It was a great contrast to her hot face. Her legs gave out and she began to fall. Maybe my head will hit the ground and it will burst open... She could imagine it: her skull cracking against the coble hallway. Instead of blood seaping out, her head was full of spiders. She began to laugh. Spiders...for Ron...all the spiders on the world...all for him...in my head... Before her head could really smash agaist the cruel stones, a hand had caught her. She could feel the sturdy, broad hand of a man on her back. She attempted to turn and look at her hero but she was too weak. In his arms she blacked out.