A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys. I really love it when I get new readers, but I love it even more when people who have been reviewing for a while or have been reading from the beginning do so. It lets me know I have loyal readers.

You'll find that I will be updating more frequently (like once a week). I'm determined to finish this before my summer holidays begin, though now I'm not sure that's possible.

Secrets

Chapter IX: A Distant Welcome

"Bye Mum," I say heavily, "and you Dad."

I give my teary-looking parents one last goodbye hug and begin to make way to the famous platform connecting this Muggle station to the magical one beyond it. With my trunk on a trolley and book tucked beneath my arm, I push the cart and run through the barrier at King's Cross after checking that the coast is clear.

At once, a bunch of familiar faces come into view, as I enter the Hogwarts Express station. I greet a few people, and then start searching around for Ron. I squint everywhere, hoping to find some red hair in the crowd, but none comes to view. After a few minutes of fruitless looking I decide to board the train, concluding that he probably entered the Express earlier.

As I walk down the corridor of the train, I say hello to a few other people. The walk to my compartment is a bit of a longer walk than most others are put through. The Head Boy/Girl compartment is located all the way in the back of the train. It used to be located at the front, but then the staff realized that people towards the back of the train feel freer to fool around due to the lack ofauthority in that area.

I pass a few compartments, and spot Ginny inside one. When she looks out the door window and sees me, I smile awkwardly and wave slightly, but she simply looks at me with a blank expression, then draws her attention elsewhere.

With an annoyed frown I continue to make my way to my compartment. Ron told me that he had had an argument with Ginny and that they're both currently mad at each other, but I never figured Ginny would take it out on me just because I speak to him. Honestly.

Finally, I reach my stop and glance inside. Ron's already sitting in there, snacking on crackers and cheese. I smile and open the door.

"Ron!" I say, hugging him as he stands up. "I missed you."

We draw away from each other and smile. He greets me and looks at me for a second. Suddenly, I think he's trying to kiss me, and I look away before I can be sure. I glance at him again and see that he's a little hurt. Quickly, I kiss him on the lips and draw away.

"How was your holiday?" he asks as I sit down.

"Wonderful," I say at once. "My parents were so happy to see me, and I really got to spend some alone time with each of them. It was great. We did so many things. . ."

I go on to explain everything I did with my family during the week, and immediately start to feel a little homesick. This was the first time I'd spent a happy, long holiday since I was about fourteen. Not even. All my summers and Christmases were spent either a Ron's house or some other location. I've really been missing my parents for the last few years. I feel a tug of desire in my stomach; I really wish I could spend more time with them.

At home, everything felt better. I didn't have any problems. The whole situation with Harry was like. . .in a completely different world, so far away from me that it seemed worthless to think about. It was easy to ignore. I didn't feel guilty about daydreaming of Ron. I didn't feel bad when I replayed everything he'd said and did to me before the vacation. I had hardly thought of Harry at all over the holidays.

There was only one moment when he seriously came into my thoughts. I'd spent almost a whole night thinking about Ron and me, and how everything was going to turn out. Harry's so tied in with this situation of Ron that I found myself wondering about him for hours. I'd planned to talk to my mum about it in the morning, but changed my mind after actually seeing her. My mother, as good a person as she might be, holds strong images and expectations of people. If I told her that I cheated on Harry with Ron while she and Dad were out, she'd never look at me the same way. . .

I sigh. But other than that, Harry had been easy to keep out of my mind.

And then the time had come for me to wake up this morning, and everything just came rushing back in an instant, so that I was no longer in La-La Land. I could hardly eat my breakfast. I couldn't even look at my parents. They asked me what was wrong, and I said nothing, secretly thinking that they could read my every thought.

"Are you okay?" I hear Ron asking me suddenly. I look at him to see a puzzled look on his face. "You're rambling."

I really should keep my feet on the ground more while I'm speaking.

"Sorry," I say sheepishly. "I'm a little distracted. . . So. . .er, how was your holiday?"

He's silent for a moment. "For the most part pretty good. . .but I need to talk to you about the rest."

I nod, feeling a little anxious. He looks nervous suddenly, and I wonder what he's going to say.

"Listen, Ginny isn't speaking to me because she suspects that you and me are having an affair," he says, not looking at me, "and she told Charlie."

My eyes widen and my jaw drops, leaving my mouth half-open. No wonder she's been so off lately. Ron never clarified why he and his sister were angry at each other, and now that I hear the reason, I wish I hadn't. How many people has she told, exactly? Aren't she and Harry close? What if she told him something?

I can feel my body getting very warm.

"Charlie confronted me," he continues, "and I confessed. I just had to tell someone, and Charlie seemed to be the perfect person, even if it hadn't been my idea."

I can't bring myself to say anything. This doesn't feel good. And I don't like the idea of Charlie Weasley having misconceptions of me.

"He promised to keep it a secret," I hear Ron say.

After a few moments of pause, I speak. "And what did he say?"

"He said he knew something like this was going to happen sooner or later if you didn't break up with Harry soon," he tells me.

My eyes widen with surprise.

"He said that everyone's known about how we've felt for years, and that he didn't understand why you agreed to go out with Harry in the first place," he stops talking and looks at me, and I realize that he wants me to say something. To answer the question and tell him why.

I'm not sure what to tell him. The truth? Would he be angry if I told him that I got into a relationship with Harry to try and fall out of love with him? Would he resent me for trying to get rid of my feelings? Would he be mad if I told him that I really got tired of having feelings for him, because I thought he'd never return them?

What do I say?

"Why did you go out with Harry? Why do you?" he asks, looking at me hard and determined to get an answer.

I look away and sigh. I don't want to tell him. He'll think I'm stupid. Maybe I should lie. I look at his eyes and immediately erase the possibility. I can't lie with him looking at me so intently. . .he'll see right through me.

"I guess," I say in a wobbly voice, "I guess I did it to. . .try and get rid of you."

A confused expression appears on his face after this. "What do you mean?"

I avoid his gaze determinedly. This isn't easy. Telling him all this, I mean. It isn't sweet like an "I love you" type of thing. He had me agonized for years because of his thickness and indifference to my existence. This doesn't bring back nice memories.

"I didn't want to love you," I say, more fiercely than I'd planned.

A hurt look replaces his confusion. "Why?" he asks quietly. "Did you think I wasn't worth it?"

And the truth is, sometimes I really didn't think he was worth all the pain. I figured, hey, if he couldn't see what I was worth, then maybe I was going after the wrong guy.

But then most of the time, these feelings were suppressed by thoughts of the complete opposite. I often thought, what if it's him that's too good for me? I mean, he's the warm person, not me. He's the lovable, good-looking guy, while I'm the often icy, distant bookworm. And those were my sentiments for the last few years. Sometimes I still feel that way.

I shake my head. "No," I say, in a wobbly voice. "I just didn't feel like pining after some idiot who didn't really see me most of the time."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, looking confused again. "I always saw you, practically everyday--"

"Not like that!" I burst. "I meant that you didn't see me as. . .as a real girl."

His expression softens. "I never looked at you in another way. Well, maybe in first year," he adds with a laugh, "but from then on, of course I saw you as a girl, even if I didn't realize it at first."

I sniff a little indignantly. "Well, you sure never showed it," I say. "You never seemed to really think of me as other than your smart friend."

"I'm sorry." he says gently.

"It's alright, I guess," I say, wiping my eyes. "But anyway. When Harry asked me to date him, I figured maybe this was a good chance to get my thoughts off you. If I actually dated someone instead of thinking about you all the time, I reckoned I'd get over my crush."

He looks at me for a while, as if trying to take this all in while simultaneously attempting to read my thoughts. "Did it work?" he asks.

I look at him sharply. "Of course it didn't work!" I exclaim, a little annoyed. "Didn't I just get done telling you that I love you a week ago?"

Jesus. Does he think that I'd sleep with him and tell him I love him and not mean it?

He sighs. "But did you ever stop having feelings for me?" he asks. "Even for a little while?"

I shake my head. "No," I tell him. "I never managed to fall for Harry."

He sighs again with what seems like relief. "Good," he says.

We stay silent for a while. I look out the compartment window and feel a slow dread seeping through me. We're going back. I'm going to have to face Harry again. I'm going to have to face my problems. I groan inwardly. I really don't want to go back. . .

But I have to. And I have to start fixing things now.

"Ron." I say, after a few minutes of thinking.

He looks up from his thoughts. "Yeah?"

I take a breath. "Listen, now that we've settled everything between you and me, I have to fix things with Harry." I say.

He nods. "I know."

I twiddle with my hands a bit. "So I think it would be best if you and me went back to normal. Until everything's done and settled."

"Normal?" he asks.

I nod. "Yeah. We should act like friends. We shouldn't go around kissing and cuddling behind Harry's back. I wouldn't feel right if I was kissing you every time Harry left the room. I think we should keep at least the physical part of our relationship. . .strictly friendly."

He nods, but has a slight frown. "You're not saying that you don't have feelings for me, are you?"

I shake my head immediately. "No!" I exclaim. "I just meant that I don't think we should turn this into a full-blown affair. I need to have some dignity in all this. I wouldn't dare ask for Harry's forgiveness if I was having a completely agreed on sexual relationship behind his back."

"You're right," he says. "We need to stop. But you have to fix things with Harry. We both do."

"I will."

He gives me a serious look after these words. "But you need to start fast. Hermione, it's January third. Valentine's Day is just around the corner."

(H)(o)(G)(W)(A)R(T)(S)

As I enter the castle, the dreary feeling inside me grows stronger. Oh God. This place just brings back all the horribleness of the past months. Why does my life have to be this way? Didn't I deserve happiness after the war just like everyone else? Didn't Harry and Ron deserve it?

I glance sideways at Ron, who's standing next to me looking as gloomy as me. He's so close to me. Why's it so hard to be able to have him peacefully?

"So," I say quietly, "should we look for Harry?"

He nods unenthusiastically. "It's almost dinnertime." he says. "He's probably in the Great Hall."

We start walking to the Great Hall, and I tell myself to change my expression into a happier one. Or should I just leave it miserable? Sooner or later this charade will have to end. Will the dragging the act longer just make it harder?

A minute later we walk into the dinner hall to see almost half of Hogwarts sitting there already, most of who are hungry people who have just gotten off the train. I spot Harry, and as if forgetting all previous thought, I automatically put a small smile on my face.

Ron and I plop ourselves down on either side of Harry, who is looking straight ahead into space.

"Hi Harry!" I say cheerfully and give him a hug, feeling too shameful to kiss him.

"So how's you leg?" asks Ron, nonchalantly.

"Fine." The way Harry says the word is eerie. It's short and indifferent, and he still hasn't looked at either of us after thirty seconds.

I feel a pang of apprehension in my stomach. I quickly glance at Ron who looks baffled.

"So, um, how was your Christmas?" I ask, trying not to sound put off. "Did you like the scarf I gave you?"

"Yeah," he says, in the same weird way. "Did you like what I gave you?"

"It was great!" I say enthusiastically. "I really love it."

Which is a lie. Before the holidays Harry told me that he would be giving me a perfume he knew I would love. It was a magical kind that was charmed to smell different to each person. Every person would smell their favorite kind of perfume, and the wearer would smell their own preference too. That way, you'd smell good to everyone. I told him months ago that I would absolutely die for it.

Instead though, he sent me this other perfume, which I had specifically told him on the same afternoon that I thought smelled awful. I figured he had maybe confused the two.

"And what about you?" he asks Ron. "Did you like your gift?"

"Er, yeah!" says Ron happily. He's lying too. Weird.

"I tried very hard to pick out good presents," Harry says in a strange empty, yet falsely thoughtful tone. "I wanted to get only the best for my two best friends in the whole world."

I exchange another glance with Ron, who looks frightened. Why does Harry seem so weird? Surely he's not still angry about his leg. So then, what's wrong? He can't possibly know. . . If he suspected something, he would have started acting this way months ago. There shouldn't be any reason why he would pick now to find out. Ginny doesn't know Ron and I slept with each other before the holidays, so it wasn't her. Charlie wouldn't be dumb enough to owl Harry and tell him.

Something's wrong. Harry puts and arm around both Ron and me and smiles an odd smile.

"So how were your holidays?" he asks, in faux cheerful tone. "Anything new happen? Anything you want to tell me?"

Okay, now I'm really getting scared. Does he know something or not? But he doesn't have any possible way of knowing! I'm not about to spill something now and make a fool out of myself if he doesn't know. That would be a bad way for him to find out anyway.

I take a short breath. "Mine was fantastic. . .!"

(L)(A)(T)(E)R

Ron and I practically run to our common room and shove open the gargoyle door.

"What the hell was that all about?" Ron demands as we stumble in. "Why was he acting so weird?"

I shrug desperately. "Do you think he knows something?" I ask weakly.

"It really seemed like it!" he says, spreading his arms out in a helpless manner.

I bite my lip dreadfully. Slowly, tears are filling up my eyes. But he can't know! How would he? It's got to be something else.

"Maybe we're paranoid," I say after a while.

He sighs. "I don't know. You think it was a coincidence that he kept mentioning how much he trusts us and bringing up phrases like, 'we have no secrets from each other' and 'I really love our friendship'?"

"I don't know!" I spill. "But Ron, how would he know?"

For a few minutes we stare at each other, as if doing this would help the answer jump out from the darkness. We sit down in front of the fireplace and face each other.

I sigh. Maybe it was Ginny that told him something. Maybe she just got tired of keeping quiet. I mean, she did tell Charlie. How many other people would she go off and tell? Maybe Ron was acting strangely that week and she felt that her suspicions were confirmed. . . Ron never was that good at hiding his feelings too well.

But why would Ginny do that? She's my friend too, isn't she? The image of her ignoring me on the train comes to mind and suddenly I don't feel too sure.

"Hermione!" Ron says suddenly.

Startled, I turn my head to look at him. "What is it?"

He's looking at my neck with fearful eyes. "You're wearing it!"

I glance down at my neck and see the gold chain Harry gave me for my birthday. I forgot I was wearing this thing. . .

"I can't believe you forgot to take it off!" Ron says angrily. "Of course he knows!"

He breaks off in a panic, and I shake my head.

"Ron--"

"Hermione, for a smart person, how can you be so thick?" he shouts, getting up. "It was hanging on your neck this whole time, and you slept with me while you had it on--!"

"Ron, listen to me--"

"That thing lets Harry know everything! What you think, what you feel, what you do--"

"Ron--!"

"I just can't swallow that pill, Hermione. That you would forget to take off a chain that dangles from you neck--"

"Ron!" I scream, irritated now. He stops rambling and looks at me. "Of course I didn't forget!"

"You took it off?" he asks. "I don't remember you removing it."

"No," I say. "I didn't take it off--"

"You see?" he snaps.

"Listen!" I shout. "I broke the connection ages ago. He can't feel what I do with from his locket."

He frowns, confused. "I thought the only way to make it stop working was to take it off. . ."

I shake my head. "No. You can break the connection in two ways. One is to take it off, and the other is to take out your partner's picture. I took Harry's photo out months ago."

After he gave me this locket for my birthday, the paranoia was too much for me. I had so much going on in my head, and the last thing I needed was Harry to have a way to spy on me. It also didn't help that the stupid thing kept turning hot every other second to let me knowhe was thinking of me, either. It was like going on constant guilt trips. So I looked at the little paper which had a section on how to use this chain. It said that I could break his outgoing connection to me by removing his picture from the locket or just by taking it off. Since there was no feature that said he could sense when I took out his picture, I chose that method. Plus, as far as Harry knew, I was still wearing the chain, and his picture was still in it. I wouldn't have to explain why I took it off.

"Oh," says Ron, looking remorseful. "I'm sorry."

I sigh. He really does seem sorry. "It's fine," I say. "But honestly, I'm not that dumb."

"I know," he says, and for a moment he looks like he's going to kiss me, but then he backs off.

"It has to be something else that has him acting this way, Ron." I say. "He has no way of knowing. . . Unless Ginny told him something."

I look at him apprehensively.

He shakes his head. "No. There were no owls at our house. They were all out delivering gifts."

"Then it is something else."

(T)(W)(o)-(W)(E)(E)(K)(S)-(L)(A)(T)(E)R

It's mid-January, and Harry's still acting odd. He's not spending that much time with either of us. He's not talking much, and sometimes I catch him giving Ron hostile looks while he's not looking. Sometimes I can feel his eyes on me while I'm not looking. I wonder why he's being this way.

I don't know what to do anymore. I've asked him if something's wrong repeatedly, or if he needs to tell me something, but all he does is turn the questions around on me.

I look out into the darkness from my bed, and listen to the silence. Ron must be awake too. He's not snoring.

I've been trying so hard to figure out what's wrong with Harry that I haven't actually had the chance to settle anything between us about our relationship. I just keep getting this paranoid feeling that he knows something and I keep going over all the ways he could possibly know in my head.

I even asked Harry if he'd talked to Ginny about everything during the holidays, and he said no. It sounded like the truth to me. . .

God, what am I going to do? February will be starting any day now and I haven't thought of a way out of my dilemma. The only possible solution that can come to mind is that maybe Harry will still be moody and decide that he really doesn't want to have sex.

I close my eyes.

I just hope everything falls into place.

A/N: You know, I've never spent so much time thinking about a story like I do this one. There are so many ways I could take it. So many different emotions and decisions I can have them make that dramatically change everything. . .I hope you guys will be satisfied.