Hermione was upstairs, on the third floor between the eaves. She was in a horrible, horrible mood - even Crooks, her cat, wasn't able to shake it out of her, and he was trying - batting at a nearly demolished cattoy. Ron had said things to her... things she'd never dreamed of hearing with reference to herself. Not from Snape, not from Malfoy, not from Voldemort, even. Hermione had been on the bleedin' edge of his temper before - but, this wasn't right. What he had said to her wasn't right. No one should have called her that, ever. She wasn't... wasn't a whore...

Hermione shook her head, wanting to cry and yet holding the tears inside. For Ron to have said that... it made her wonder if he was ever really her friend, or if he just hung around her because Harry liked her. Well, if Harry even liked her. Maybe they just really liked free homework?

Hermione shook her head again, knowing deep in her heart of hearts that she was a natural nag, as inquisitive about people as things. And as happy to help people do what's best. How could anyone like her? Want to be her friend?

And Harry was busy comforting Ron. His best friend. Hermione had always sort of known that they had a bond that she didn't share in. And now Harry was proving it, by telling Ron just what an awful person Hermione was! "You know how she is, Ron." Harry would say.

Crooks batted at the cattoy, sending it the whole way down the stairs. Hermione listened closely as he bounded down them.

Hermione stiffened, standing and looking out the arrowslit window into the driving rain. She should know better than this, she told herself sternly. Harry Potter was her friend - he wasn't the one screaming hateful things the instant she came in the door. Harry was probably just trying to make sure that Ron didn't make the situation worse. Harry was like that - really, she had known him for years; she knew exactly what he'd be thinking about.

How to fix things.

The small problem with that was that Hermione wasn't sure they could be fixed. Or if she really wanted them fixed, anyway. What sort of a friend, no matter how angry, calls their best friend a whore?

[a/n: Readers are invited to comment on exactly how quickly Hermione has reverted from considering Ron a somewhat selfish boyfriend into being a "best friend." Or, well, write what you like (but do write. I love reviews!).

Hermione's doing a bit of feeling sorry for herself here, and we've all been adolescents, so we've been there too.]