A/N - I'm so, so, so, so, so sorry that I've fallen off for a few weeks! Somehow, my life has become quite busy and I've just had a hectic past couple of weeks. But I pledge to improve. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing - I'm totally in awe!

I hope you enjoy this chapter - it's a bit chaotic, to be honest, but I think it would be a crime if I went another day or so without updating - sorry, again x

Also, don't be deceived by this chapter's title - this story is very much not near any sort of end.

Chapter 6 - Sour endings

"Well done," sneered Draco. Hermione rolled her eyes at his sarcastic remark.

She had been retelling the story of the previous night; Ron had become quickly defensive during their conversation, and now Hermione was trying to express to a snappish Draco that she thought it was a lost cause, but he wasn't having any of it.

"I didn't ask for him to have a go at me, Draco. He just completely snapped!" she countered indignantly, her eyes quickly flicking up to the Gryffindor table.

"Well, it should hardly surprise you that he can't hold his temper. It doesn't mean you just give up now. Didn't you apologise?"

"Yes!" Hermione exclaimed almost automatically. She became decidedly more resigned in her seat as she recalled the apology, and their brief… exchange afterwards.

"What's the problem, then? I doubt that simpleton took much persuading before accepting your apology."

Hermione didn't say anything. Ron had forgiven her, but she didn't like to bash him for it. He definitely was, as Draco put, a simpleton. But not because of last night.

Draco checked his watch, before hastily moving from the table and leaving. His muttered excuse was that he was 'leaving to be early for first lesson', but Hermione had never known Draco to be that early to a lesson in her life.

"It appeared to me that you were having a lovely time," intervened Blaise, who had been sitting beside Draco, but had now slid into his empty space.

"For this plan to work, I can't exactly never speak to him, can I?" she snapped, fed up with his recent snarky looks and comments.

"You say it's for the plan, although twice I've caught you, and I can't help but wonder if you've had a change of heart."

"And why, may I ask, do you keep finding me? You had no reason to be wandering the corridors last night."

Blaise seemed unfazed by her question, in fact, he began to look rather smug. "You'd be on rounds, so I knew I'd get away with it."

Hermione was taken aback by his comment. She licked her lips unsurely, before meeting his gaze again. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that we're friends, Granger," he shrugged, before getting up, himself. "Weasley, however, isn't very friendly, is he?"

Hermione thought back to Blaise and Ron's brief yet sour encounter last night. Once again, she didn't reply, and watched as Blaise stood up and readied to leave.

She sighed with frustration. Hermione had no idea why what she was doing suddenly became a concern of his, or why she became so half of herself when speaking to him. But, Blaise did have an impact on her, which made trying to work out what he was up to, all the more difficult.

"Well, aren't you coming?" asked Blaise, looking down at Hermione expectantly.

Hermione, for the third time, responded with silence. She grabbed her bag, before leaving the Hall with Blaise.

As they made their way towards Transfiguration, they managed to fall into stride with a few Gryffindors, who were on their way to the same lesson. Blaise expressively rolled his eyes as they walked past the boys, who were wittering on about Merlin knew what.

Hermione had initially shared the exasperation, but as they purposefully strode past the group, Ron had noticed her and offered a small, albeit friendly, smile. She offered a subtle smile in return, before glancing at Blaise to ensure he hadn't seen.

Transfiguration was passing with much the same normalcy. However, and Hermione would deny it, but she was beginning to have a habit of glancing at a specific desk not so far in front of her.

Her glances transpired into stares at her best friend and Ron. They were hardly paying any attention! As Hermione prolonged her stares, she established that they were passing a piece of parchment back and forth to each other. Her irritation mounted with every minute of watching them. What on earth were they doing?

Determined not to let it distract her from actually listening to the teacher, Hermione snapped her head back to Professor McGonagall. It only took a matter of seconds to regain her concentration, however it took even less to derail it, again.

She pointedly glared at Daphne and Ron as they continued to pass back and forth the parchment, each adding something with a quill, in between passes.

Her exasperation continued to grow, as Hermione began to unknowingly wiggle her foot agitatedly under the table. How wasn't anyone else distracted by their blatant immaturity?! Hermione knew her best friend well; if Daphne really wanted to get with Ron, she didn't have to play games with him over the table to do so.

That last thought threw Hermione into utter turmoil. Was that what Daphne was doing? If it was, Hermione would be, as she thought, rightfully annoyed. Daphne was one of the few who knew of Draco and Hermione's plan. Why would she sabotage it by exploring something like that with Ron herself?

"Miss Granger? Are you alright?"

Hermione was so lost in chaotic thought that she had completely lost herself from the lesson. Which, in her six years at Hogwarts, had never happened.

She looked up and realised that she had made it snow with how frustrated she had become.

"Sorry, Professor," Hermione muttered before putting down her now-clammy wand, which she hadn't even realised was in her hand at all.

"It's alright, Miss Granger. Are you okay?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes, I'm-I just feel a bit under the weather, is all."

"No shit," came a low voice from the other side of the class, and a few other people began chuckling at the joke.

Hermione looked down, embarrassed, as heat rose to her cheeks.

"Enough!" McGonagall snapped, before instantly resuming her lesson.

Hermione only dared look back up once everyone had quietened down. But immediately wished she hadn't. Daphne had turned in her chair to look at her, and was simultaneously muttering something to Ron.

Hermione stared at her parchment for the rest of the lesson, as not only embarrassment filled her, but another feeling she couldn't quite discern. She detested the thought of Daphne and Ron talking about her, that was all she was absolutely sure of.

Hermione had adamantly avoided her friends, and everyone, really, for the rest of the day. It wasn't just that she had been embarrassed during Transfiguration. In fact, that aspect was only bothering her less and less, as the day progressed. What was really bothering her, was the fact that she had reacted so strongly to subconsciously produce such magic unknowingly.

Of course she knew what it had meant; particularly strong feelings of distress or upset. But, Hermione couldn't understand why she had felt so strongly distressed. Yes, she was completely annoyed at Daphne for flirting with Ron. But, had it annoyed her so much just because of the stupid challenge? Either way, it had obviously thrown her off at the time, and Hermione had no desire to endure any concerned looks from her friends - or any sarcastic remarks from Blaise, especially.

So, she had spent lunch in the library. And had mostly ignored everyone around her. Fortunately, she had only one other lesson with Daphne, so avoiding her was quite easy. Up until she had returned to the dormitory that evening, that is.

"I swear I've been looking for you all day!" Daphne exclaimed as she flounced down onto Hermione's bed.

Hermione had only come up to her dorm in order to retrieve a few books that needed to be returned to the library. She hadn't expected to bump into Daphne; there was a bit of a party happening in the Slytherin common room tonight, which Hermione wished to be no part of, but had expected Daphne to attend.

She shrugged in response to her friend, trying to appear more busy than she was by sorting through her books.

"Are you okay? After Transfiguration?" Daphne's voice was concerned, which Hermione thought was rather ironic, considering she had been blatantly talking about Hermione behind her back.

"As I said, I wasn't feeling well."

"Is that why you weren't at lunch?"

Hermione nodded evasively.

"So, what are you wearing to the party?" Daphne asked, obviously trying to strive away from the awkwardness between them.

Hermione continued to look down at her books. "I'm not going to the party."

"What? Why not? Do you still not feel very well?"

Hermione expressively snapped one of her books shut. "I don't know why you're pretending to care, when it seems that my feelings only concern you when you use them as a source of gossip."

Daphne's eyes grew wide as Hermione huffed off of the bed, furiously packing her bag.

"What are you on about?" she laughed.

Hermione shot her a disapproving look. "Don't act ignorantly. I watched you and Ron earlier. You weren't very discreet about it."

Once again, Daphne looked clueless. "What? The only time Ron and I spoke about you was when I was worried for you, after you made it snow in the middle of a lesson!"

"Well, I don't want your pity. Also, I find it very interesting that you've only now decided to befriend Ron Weasley, when you knew that that was exactly the task I have to complete!" Hermione snapped.

"We sit next to each other in Transfiguration!" Daphne cried exasperatedly. "We only ever talk to each other there. Why do you even care anyway? And don't tell me it's because of this bloody challenge or whatever, because I know you're not actually that fussed about it."

Hermione stuttered a bit at Daphne's retort, but it was nothing she couldn't counter. "You may have no experience with demonstrating any sense of dedication, Daphne, but some of us do. So, yes, it is because of this 'bloody challenge'."

"Fine," snapped Daphne with finality. She turned on her heel to walk towards her dresser, but said over her shoulder, "what you're doing is wrong, Hermione. Ron is a good person. And, it's utterly pointless. He's been notoriously loyal to Harry over the years. Why you would think he would break that loyalty for you, of all people, I really don't know."

Hermione swiftly left the room at Daphne's bitter, parting words. Who was she to judge? For a fleeting moment, Hermione downplayed it as Daphne acting jealously because of Draco's involvement. But, even with the anger she had, Hermione dismissed that idea.

Her best friend hadn't so much as mentioned Draco's name once since the school year began. Which only fuelled Hermione's belief that Daphne now had an interest in Ron. And that's why her departing comment had particularly stung; Hermione hadn't quite buddied up to Ron like Daphne had, and Daphne had hardly even tried.

Hermione shook her head as she made way for the library. Even though she had utterly disputed the idea that her anger had gone further than the challenge, it was probably more true than she'd admit. She'd laugh out loud if someone suggested that she remotely liked Ron Weasley. But watching him with someone else… wasn't pleasant either…

By the time the library clock read quarter to ten, Hermione had been successfully preoccupied by Ancient Runes. So much so that she even worked through dinner, as opposed to going to the Great Hall. That wasn't particularly a wild or rare occurrence for Hermione, but time had seemed to catch up with her more quickly than she had realised.

Returning the books she had used, Hermione left the mostly empty library with a slight feeling of apprehension. She hadn't seen Ron since Transfiguration that morning, and obviously that lesson hadn't been the highlight of her day.

She cringed as she recalled her argument with Daphne. Hermione hadn't expected such an attack from her best friend, but part of her knew that she had it coming for having a go about Ron. So what if they were friends. So what if they were flirting. Daphne was, as hard as it was for Hermione to admit, quite right about Ron.

Speaking of the devil, Hermione approached the meeting point wearing quite an amused expression.

Ron, standing up as straight as he could, his arms folded and a cross expression on his face, said, in his most bossy tone, "you're late."

"Is that supposed to be me?" Hermione smirked, crossing her arms, herself.

"Yep. Quite good, isn't it?" he smiled.

Hermione shook her head good-naturedly, before checking Ron's watch. "No, because you're wrong. I'm not late, you are early, which must mean I'm seeing things."

"Very funny," Ron rolled his eyes, as they began their patrol.

Hermione smiled softly to herself as she walked alongside him. She was pleased that he hadn't mentioned what happened in Transfiguration - as of yet.

They fell into quite easy small talk, which consisted of Hermione teasing Ron for considering Quidditch a 'priority', and Ron mocking her for her 'boringness'.

However, as they walked past the staff room, they ran into a very flustered looking Professor Slughorn.

"Miss Granger!" he jovially cried.

"Sir?" replied Hermione, slightly

"I thought I ought to give you this. I did look for you during lunchtime, but I couldn't seem to find you." He handed Hermione a photograph of her mother. The edges were frayed with age, but she still smiled down at it.

"Um, thank you, sir."

"No worries, no worries. Well, I best leave you both to it. Goodnight, Miss Granger. Wallanbee," he regarded Ron vaguely, as if he was trying desperately to remember a time he had ever seen him before.

"Did he just call you 'Wallanbee'?" Hermione asked with a snort, as she stowed away the photo of her mother.

Ron shrugged, "me and Slughorn aren't the best of mates."

"Well, clearly not. But I'd at least have thought he would know your name; your sister's in his club."

Ron shrugged, obviously not too bothered that he had gone forgotten by the Professor. Or, at least, was trying not to show how bothered he was.

They continued to walk in quiet, although, as Hermione felt the beginnings of her hunger catching up with her, she wished they were talking.

She tensed her stomach so it wouldn't rumble too loudly. Hermione was admittedly regretting that she skipped two meals today. She had worked herself up quite the appetite from her revision, and it had certainly caught up with her now.

Cringing, she released her stomach from its tensed position, knowing that if she held on any longer she'd surely faint. And, as she had expected, her stomach growled with its neglect.

Ron glanced sideways, not so surreptitiously. "Bloody hell, Hermione. Dinner was only a few hours ago," he smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Am I really being mocked for being hungry by Ron Weasley?"

"Well, not even I've got an appetite that huge!" he joked back.

She shook her head, but was fighting a smile of her own. "For your information, I haven't eaten all day."

"Why not?" chortled Ron.

"I've been busy with revision," she replied.

Ron had stopped in his tracks by this point. "Yeah, but you've got to eat!" he protested.

"Honestly, Ronald, I'm fine," she huffed exasperatedly, but Ron just shook his head.

"Come on, the round's nearly finished, anyway."

Before Hermione could even comprehend what he was up to, Ron had grabbed her hand and began walking purposefully down the corridor.

It took Hermione a moment to find her voice as her fingers interlocked with Ron's. Once she had, however, she frustratedly asked, "Ron, where on earth are we going?!" as they hurriedly walked through the Entrance Hall.

"You'll see," he replied, leading them down the stairs which Hermione knew led to the Hufflepuff common room and - of course, she thought - the kitchens.

"Ron, we can't just pop into the kitchens whenever we like!" she admonished, but Ron just shrugged.

"We, as most students, can't. But I can."

Hermione just threw an imploring look, but Ron was none the wiser as he looked for the correct painting.

Releasing Hermione's hand, Ron tickled the appropriate pear and watched as the giggling fruit transformed into a door.

He turned back to Hermione, looking quite impressed with himself. "Cool, right?"

"Honestly, didn't you ever read Hogwarts: A History?" Hermione asked quite smugly, as she crossed her arms.

"'Course not. Who would?" he laughed.

"That happens to be one of my favourite books!" she snapped, her arms going to her sides indignantly.

"Sorry." Although he didn't sound very sorry at all. "Well, if you've read that, then there must've been something about house-elves working in the kitchens. So, I don't know what you think of them. But, we-" he expansively threw his arms around him, at which Hermione rolled her eyes to. "-don't think of them as our slaves, so be nice, alright?"

Hermione just shook her head disapprovingly. "What are you suggesting? I'll have you know, that I've never kept a house-elf in my life."

Ron seemed pleasantly surprised. "Hmm, then this should be fine." And with that, he did some sort of unique knock, that Hermione expected was something to communicate to the elves that it was him.

She could remember Dobby, or rather the uproar he caused when being freed from the Malfoys' in second-year. Hermione personally thought that, with all of the utterly stupid things that Harry Potter had done, freeing Dobby had actually been quite sensical.

Hermione had never agreed with the treatment of house-elves, which she knew had stemmed from her mother never keeping them (one of the small tidbits of information that Martha could share about her mum).

The door opened slightly, and Hermione watched inquisitively as an elf looked up at Ron and herself.

"Ron Wheezy, sir!"

That must be Dobby, then, she assessed.

"Hey, Dobby. Sorry to barge in on you at this time, but you don't think we could come in for something to eat, do you?" asked Ron.

"Of-of course, sir! But-" Ron lowered down to meet Dobby's height, as the house-elf beckoned him closer.

"What's wrong?"

"Is-is that a S-Slytherin, sir?" he asked frightenedly, warily watching Hermione as if she would go and attack him at any moment.

"Yeah, she is. But it's fine, she's not one of the bad ones," Ron whispered, meeting Dobby's quiet tone.

Hermione found herself smiling sheepishly at Ron's comment, even if it was only said to grant them access into the kitchen.

"If you say so, sir." Dobby skipped back into the kitchen, Ron standing and nodding his head at Hermione towards the room.

Hermione walked in wearing an awed expression. Of course she had read Hogwarts: A History many times, but she was still rather struck by the expansiveness of the kitchens. It appeared that most house-elves had gone off to clean common rooms, as there were only a few finishing off the cleaning of the kitchen, and Hermione knew there to be more than a hundred house-elves working at Hogwarts.

"What can Dobby fetch for you, Master Wheezy?"

"Please, Dobby, you know that you can call me 'Ron'," Ron chuckled, sitting himself down on one of the benches. "Um, what d'you fancy, Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes had been wandering the large room, but she came to focus on Ron and Dobby, noting how nervous the elf seemed as he awaited her response.

"Oh, um, I'd just like a sandwich, please?"

"W-what filling w-would Miss like?" Dobby asked in a small voice, wringing his tiny hands in his tunic.

"Oh, sorry, um.. cheese, please," she amended, awkwardly sitting beside Ron, who watched the exchange quite amusedly.

Dobby nodded frantically, his floppy ears flapping as he did so.

"A-anything for you, sir?"

"Umm, do you know what, I'll have the same, please," Ron smiled, and Dobby scampered away to work.

"Bloody hell, Ron, dinner was only a few hours ago," Hermione mimicked Ron's tone from earlier, which earned her a light shove.

"Oi, that walk made me hungry!"

Hermione was about to retort, but Dobby had already returned with such massive sandwiches that she doubted she'd even finish half of it.

"Cheers, Dob," said Ron, "I'll come back tomorrow with something for you, I promise." He knew that Dobby would much more appreciate some bloody socks as opposed to actual money - somehow.

"Oh, thank you!" cried Dobby, avoiding all eye contact with Hermione, as he whizzed back off into the main area of the kitchen.

Ron scoffed his cheese sandwich, but Hermione needed to have hers wrapped up in tinfoil to take with her.

As she stored the sandwich into her bag, the photograph fell to the floor. Ron picked it up for her, but instead of giving it straight back, he studied it perplexedly.

"Excuse me," tutted Hermione, finding his inspection quite rude.

"Sorry," he said, "it's just- is this your mum?"

"Yes," she drawled condescendingly.

"I-I recognise her. I don't know where from, but I've definitely seen her face somewhere."

Hermione snatched the photograph from him. "That's quite creepy, you know."

Ron shook his head dismissively. "I don't mean it in a creepy way, but I swear- I just can't think of where."

"Well, when you do, do share," she said, but rolled her eyes with the disbelief that he really recognised her mum. She has been dead nearly as long as Ron has been alive, after all.

They bid their farewells to Dobby, who was still wary of Hermione.

"Why is he so frightened of me? I've never done anything to him!" she asked in a hushed voice, as they walked back down the corridor.

Ron shrugged. "Obviously, you're just a scary-looking person," he chuckled, but Hermione only scowled in response. "I mean, especially after earlier - you literally made it snow!"

"Yes, well…" she trailed off, displeased that he had even mentioned it. But with the mention of Transfiguration, her annoyance came rushing back.

"You know, you'd really think at NEWT level that people would actually start listening to their teachers, as opposed to passing notes back and forth with the person sitting next to them!" she snapped.

Ron looked down at her confusedly. "Ohh," he recalled, nonchalantly, "oh yeah; we were playing hangman."

"Unbelievable," she muttered. "Really, how do you plan to pass your exams?"

"Bloody hell, it's only September," he shrugged, but the irritation in his voice was rising. "Why are you so bothered about me passing my exams, anyway?"

Hermione waited until they had successfully crossed the Entrance Hall before replying, but they didn't start walking again once they were in a safe corridor.

"Oh, believe me, I'm hardly bothered whether you get an E or a T on your exams, Ronald, but some of us are trying to learn, and your misbehaviour is very distracting!"

Ron shook his head, "aren't you friends with Daphne?"

Hermione hardly saw how that was relevant. "Yes, but that doesn't mean she can't still act immaturely. Especially, when she's around people like you."

"Fucking hell, you really are mad, you know," retorted Ron.

"What? For actually wanting an education?"

"No, for being a bloody control freak about other people!"

"I'm terribly sorry if I don't want an earful of you and Daphne flirting in the middle of the lesson!"

Hermione winced at her last argument almost as soon as she had said it.

"Daphne and I weren't flirting… is that why it bothered you?" he asked a bit softer, but Hermione only hardened at his tone.

"Don't be ridiculous!" she spat.

Ron's cheeks flushed red, as he shouted, "then what the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Hermione had had enough. She had wound up somewhere she couldn't really escape from, so there was no real point in ensuring more insults from him. "I'm going to bed," she announced, stalking off before he could add anything else.

Ron sighed as he watched her walk away. That girl was frying his brain beyond comprehension.