Disclaimer: I own only the plot and the idea of ridiculously pairing these two :)

A/N: Eh, nothing much to say except don't expect too much *wink* *wink*

Do enjoy, though! And review afterwards!

Chapter Twenty-One: Ignorance

The door opened and Edmund did not even have to turn around to know that it was Lucy who came inside his bedchambers.

"What? No happy greetings for me?" his sister asked, her voice laced with amusement.

With his back facing her, the just king rolled his eyes and scowled. "Go away," he grumbled under his breath, annoyed that the dull aching on his chest still bothered him. "I'm perfectly fine, Lu. I think my bandages can be left today without being changed."

"I've heard that for the nth time, Ed," she said, walking around his bed so that she could see his face. "It's been two days. What are you being all scowls about? Aren't you happy that your favourite sister is being gracious enough to change your bandages for you?"

He closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. "I am not really in the mood to talk to you, Lucy," he mumbled, shifting on his bed so that his back would be facing her once again.

Lucy released a loud tutting noise and once again walked around his bed to see his face. "This had been going on for days now, Ed," she reprimanded him. She walked straight to his loo to get a basin, a towel, and fresh bandages, before settling them down and urging him to sit up.

He, with a protesting frown on his face, finally relented and was soon leaning comfortably against his pillow.

"All right? What really happened?" she asked, absentmindedly unfastening his bandage. To Edmund's dismay, Lucy did not smell like vanilla at all. To his sister's surprise, his look grew darker, making her more confused. "Hermione…"

"Don't," he gently stated, a hint of threat in his voice. "I am not in the mood to talk now, Lu."

Lucy frowned and stared straight at her brother's eyes. "I am not really sure what happened but Hermione" – she ignored his dark glare – "won't tell me at all why she profusely begged me to change your bandages instead." A suspicious look appeared on her face. "Have you been hostile again? Dear Aslan, Edmund! Didn't we already establish that there is a big possibility that she is the Daughter of Eve in the great prophecy?"

He looked away from her, now feeling a little sour. "Quite the contrary," he mumbled under his breath. 'I believe I had been a little… forward,' he added in his thoughts, annoyed that that little voice inside his head was snorting in disbelief.

"Excuse me?" the valiant queen asked, but he merely shook his head.

"Nothing, nothing," he said with a sigh.

Lucy opened her mouth once again and Edmund made an angry noise at the back of his throat. His sister could be quite persistent if she wanted to and it was perfectly obvious that she was itching to know what had happened between him and Hermione. It did not help that his grouchiness increased as days passed by; evidence that he had not been sleeping very well at night.

The Narnian Healer had visited him yesterday to check his health and was appalled to discover that the supposedly resting king was not resting properly at all. After an hour-long lecture from the Centaur, Lucy arrived to change his bandage for him. The disappointment he felt was obvious, but he somehow saw it coming.

It took them exactly a full minute to realize what Edmund had done. It was actually Hermione who pulled away first. She had pushed his chest away, which had burned his wound but both did not seemed to mind at all. Her tears had long stopped now and she had merely looked at him, horrified, before wordlessly standing up from his bed and leaving him, his wound half-dressed.

After that day, Edmund knew that Hermione would avoid him.

The funny thing was, he never regretted doing it at all.

Two days of solitude without the brunette around made him contemplate the reason why he did such an act. He soon deduced that although it was not evident, he thought that there was something going on with him when it came to Hermione. It somehow terrified him to think that the real and unadulterated hostility he felt towards the brunette had only lasted for a week; after that, the animosity slowly turned into something more, something unexpected… something he did not foresee at all.

"Hermione's acting weird," Lucy then said, breaking him off his reverie.

Slowly, Edmund looked back at his sister and tried his best to school his emotions. Lucy's eyes were roaming all over his face, trying to gauge any reaction from him. He suppressed a growing smirk when he saw the disappointed frown on her face.

"Ed…"

The just king sighed and allowed Lucy to completely fasten his bandage before continuing. "I am sure your lady-in-waiting should have told you long before if she wanted to, Lucy, seeing that you are ridiculously close with her," he pointed out. "I'd rather you hear it from her than from me."

"Why?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

He looked away and rolled his eyes. "Because I am sure you will cut me," he stated matter-of-factly. "Even deeper than the wound I have right now."

The exasperation on her face increased. "What did you do?" she demanded, this time all politeness and sweetness thrown outside the window.

"I won't tell you."

"EDMUND PEVENSIE!"

Edmund was unfazed by her hysteria. In fact, he even seemed a little amused. Wordlessly, he shifted down on his bed until his head was once again touching his pillow. He turned around so that his back would face her once again. "I believe I must rest, Lu," he said, already closing his eyes. "Be prepared to face the wrath of Langolly if he discovered I was not taken care of properly."

He heard her release a strange, strangled noise before emitting a loud, defeated sigh. "Fine," she said, voice thick with annoyance. "I'll ask Hermione instead."

A small smile appeared on his face. "Go on," he said. "I think it is best if I rest now."

He waited until he heard his bedroom door close before shifting on his bed so that his back was now pressed against his bed.

Edmund stared at the ceiling and bit his bottom lip, once again replaying in his mind the trigger that made him realize that after all this time, he might, perhaps, be in love with Hermione Granger.

Edmund was starting to eat in the Dining Hall again and Lucy would never leave her alone.

It had been five days now ever since that incident and Hermione thought she did a job well done avoiding the youngest king of Narnia. It did take a lot of begging from Lucy for the queen to finally accept her supposed work of changing Edmund's bandage, but thankfully, she did.

And thus, the quest of avoiding him began.

When he started eating in the Dining Hall again, his wound now getting better and better brilliantly as days passed by, she was thankfully that Lucy Pevensie sat in between them. Sometimes, she could feel his eyes on her but she swore she would never lay at least a single glance on him.

Lucy was a different story, though. She was convinced that something had happened between her and Edmund and the valiant queen wouldn't leave her alone until the brunette told her what was wrong. Lucy had made brilliant guesses but none of them came close to what exactly happened.

To say she was surprised was a big understatement. Hermione would have blamed it on her emotions that time, thinking about Harry and her world, but she just… couldn't. There was something, in his kiss, and she couldn't really put a finger on it.

She had avoided the gazebo at all cost. She long surrendered to the fact that their meetings were not purely coincidental anymore. They had this unspoken agreement that it would be their meeting place already and she was sure that if she were to venture into it, one way or another, she would interact with King Edmund.

Surprisingly, avoiding him was an easy task. Although he had just gotten better from his injury, the issue with the giants in Ettinsmoor and the looming prophecy about her and Jadis made him occupied. His presence, and frankly even the other kings, had been scarce in Cair Paravel. Sometimes, Hermione would find herself taking care of the pregnant Susan and wonder what they were up to. Not that she wanted to see them, of course. Again, she was trying her hardest to avoid Edmund at all cost.

Now, she was strolling on the second floor, meaning to go to Lucy's room. The queen had summoned her a while ago and judging by the nervous look on the small Mouse who told her, it was something urgent. "But what does Lucy want?" she mused aloud, trying to come up with a guess. In the end, she was not able to think of anything.

The heels of her shoes rang loudly on the stone floor. She thought it was bizarre, how the clicking and clacking of her shoes almost sounded the same in Hogwarts. A small, sad smile appeared on her face. Thinking about Hogwarts had been frequent now. Comparing Hogwarts from Narnia seemed like a routine to her already. She missed Hogwarts, yes, but Hermione was starting to think what her life would be if she did not discover this magical world.

Hermione then slowed down her steps as she heard a new pair of footsteps. Shooting a suspicious look at the corner ahead of her, she could make out a shadow. It grew bigger and bigger until the familiar form of King Edmund met her eyes.

She drew into an abrupt stop, her blood momentarily freezing. His eyes were intently staring at her, determination written all over his face. With a sinking heart, she knew that no matter what she did in order to evade him, he would not allow her to.

The brunette then lifted her chin and feigned ignorance, the loud beatings of her heart falling into deaf ears. She resumed her walk and flawlessly side-stepped him without even a glance back. But then, with a jolt, he reached a hand and encircled it around her wrist.

Hermione pursed her lips into a tight line. 'How cliché,' she thought with a silent sigh, trying her best to avoid his searching gaze.

"We need to talk," he said.

In spite of herself, Hermione wryly smiled.'Cliché, indeed,' she added in her thoughts and coolly looked back at him. She raised an eyebrow and said, "As much as I love to bask in your presence, Queen Lucy needs me now, King Edmund."

"What? Are we back to the civil stage again?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Hermione glared and tried to wrench her wrist away. This only made his grip tighter and the brunette sighed. "Lucy is calling for me," she said, tiredness in her voice. "I think it is best if you let go of me now."

"Lucy did not call for you," he stated matter-of-factly. "I made that up so that I can talk to you."

'So that explains the Mouse's nervousness,' she thought with a scowl, annoyed that she did not piece everything together. "We do not need to talk," she spat back, prompting him to sigh.

"I'm sorry," he stated, mustering up as much of sincerity as he could. Edmund stared at her, long and hard, and for some strange reason, she could not look away. "I-I know I surprised you. And besides, I was a little… forward."

She snorted in an unladylike manner. "Little?" she asked in disbelief.

Edmund pursed his lips but did not answer back.

With an exhausted sigh, Hermione gently held the hand wrapped around her wrist and pulled it away. Edmund, thankfully, did not budge. "I was brought here in Narnia for a purpose, your majesty," she said, taking a few steps back. "And I think having a frivolous romance story with one of the royalties is not part of it."

To her surprise, he darkly scowled. "You think it was frivolous?" he asked through gritted teeth, his nostrils flaring. "What if I tell you my feelings are nowhere near frivolous?"

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me?" she asked.

He took a few steps closer towards her, even crossing the line towards her personal space. Hermione gasped and backed away, but to her dismay, her back connected with a cold, stone wall.

"I never regretted it," he confessed, his eyes ablaze with passion and honesty. "Every second of it. And, dear Aslan, do you want to know why, Hermione? Because I think - "

"No, please, don't," she exclaimed, her face scrunching up with panic. "Perhaps what you are feeling is fleeting. Soon, it will go away and you can focus back on the great prophecy."

A humourless laugh escaped from his lips. "Fleeting?" he asked. "I was mocked by my siblings, saying that I'd one day marry my own library and my battle books. Do you think this is something that had always happened to me, Miss Granger?"

"EXACTLY!" she cried, pushing him away. He cringed, his wound on his chest still a little sore, but Hermione did not choose to mind. "What you think you might be feeling about me might actually be different from what you actually feel, your majesty."

A dark scowl appeared on his face. "Don't," he angrily spat, "patronize me."

Her anger morphed into sheer beseeching as she regarded him, her eyes bright and determined. "Edmund, we're friends," she whispered. "Please, don't ruin that."

With a growl, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against his chest. She did not have the time to analyse what was happening because his lips came crashing down against her own once again.

His kiss this time was different from the first. It was desperate, even a little rough, with its simple action trying to relay every feeling, every begging, and every frustration that the king was currently feeling towards this specific brunette.

It only lasted for a second because Hermione had roughly pushed him away. Her sudden strength had caused him to bend over in pain, his chest once again throbbing with pain.

A panicked look appeared on her face. She was torn whether to help him or run away.

"What is going on?"

To her relief, Peter just rounded around the corner and saw this scene in front of him. Hermione scurried towards the High King and obviously hid behind him. Peter stared at her with befuddlement before looking back at his injured brother. "Ed?" he asked, but Edmund just waved his hand to brush him off.

"I'm fine," he reassured, although his face was screwed up in pain. "I… I better get going."

He gave Hermione a lingering look but she immediately looked away. She heard him release a sigh and waited for his footsteps to fade before releasing the breath she did not know she had been holding.

"Are you quite all right?" Peter asked, turning around to look at her. A look of confusion appeared on his face, which prompted her to release a sigh.

"Nothing, everything's fine," she thought, subconsciously biting her bottom lip still tingling from the kiss Edmund had bestowed upon her a while ago.

Peter wasn't convinced, but he dropped the subject. "I was looking for you because I remember telling you we'll have horseback riding lessons today," he reminded with a smile.

"Err…" she started, looking a little guilty. "Is it all right if we cancel that for today? I-I think I'd retire to my bedroom for now."

He seemed highly surprised but wordlessly shook his head. "I don't mind," he said. "I believe you do need to rest, Hermione." He flashed her a smile and she returned a half-hearted one. "Good day."

"Good day," she murmured and then turned around, the smile on her face instantly slipping away.

At the corner of her eyes, she watched as King Edmund sat down on one of the ledges and cleaned his sword.

Today was another swordsmanship lesson for Hermione and she would be lying if she said she was looking forward to it. Although this lesson was the only thing she was excel in, obvious reasons had dampened her excitement to have yet another lesson with the just king.

They were on break now due to King Edmund's request and Hermione was awkwardly standing at the middle of the Place of Arms, not really knowing what to do. She was tightly clutching her sword and she debated whether to sit down right at where she was or on the only ledge that Edmund was currently occupying.

At last, the former won and she slowly lowered herself down on the ground, opting to sit in an Indian style. Hermione placed her sword on the ground and sighed, staring at the king using her peripheral vision.

It had been days now ever since their last confrontation and Hermione had not spoken at least a word or two to Edmund. It was painfully obvious that the avoidance and ignorance became mutual between the two of them. The only place where Hermione could actually be in the same room as the king was in the Dining Hall, during meal times. Besides that, he made himself scarce around her presence.

Hermione did not mind at first. She was willing to bet all of the wonderful books she had read just so she could avoid the king at all cost. Her lips were still tingling from the two kisses he had given her, both he had blatantly said he did not regret at all, and she had no idea what to do. Hence, she was happy that she was not able to see him anymore.

But as days grew by, the anger and surprise she felt had mellowed into sheer exhaustion. Yes, what he did was almost close to unforgiveable but still, Edmund was a friend. A companion, perhaps, and she had terribly missed their nights in the gazebo, talking all about things that came into mind. She had started to go to the gazebo again, but he had stopped going into it.

Her cheeks slightly colored as she looked at the place where they almost, dare she say it, kissed. On her first day of swordsmanship lessons, where Edmund taught her that sympathizing with the enemy was forbidden, something… happened. She could not really quite put a finger on it but she had this inkling that on that day was the start of something that had triggered Edmund to crash his lips against hers.

A soft sigh escaped from her lips as the king intently looked outside the window, his eyes looking as if he was staring at something.

The whole time they were practicing was a time filled with unbearable silence. He would say a few instructions and corrections, but that was it. No greetings, teasings, and even small mockeries.

It seemed like he was… subdued.

Hermione opened her mouth and almost said his name, but then changed her mind. 'I think it's best if I leave things just as it is,' she thought in her mind, her heart sinking a little bit. 'It's just a little... sad we're not talking anymore.'

The brunette swallowed a forming lump in her throat and bit her lip. Yes, it was better for her to avoid him first so that his so-called feelings towards her would calm down and he'd realize he was merely sporting a silly crush. She could not afford to be a distraction, most especially because she was the suspected "Chosen One" in this world. Saving Narnia from the possible rise of power of the White Witch was more important above other things.

But why does she, truthfully, feel empty?

"Is something the matter, Ed?" Peter asked.

Edmund snapped back to the reality and stared at his big brother, a little disoriented. "What?" he asked, releasing a nervous cough.

Caspian raised an amused eyebrow. "He asked if you are all right?" the Telmarine asked.

The youngest king fought his very hardest not to turn red. Instead, he looked back at the pile of papers in front of him and feigned concentration. "Yes, of course," he smoothly lied. "I was just thinking of more plans regarding the matters in Ettinsmoor."

Both of them seemed to buy Edmund's excuse since they both started to have a conversation about the giants.

Edmund sighed and momentarily closed his eyes, feeling externally and internally tried. Who knew avoiding Hermione Granger was very exhausting?

He, High King Peter, and King Caspian were all in the High King's library and were strategizing about the future and very probably rebellion of the giants against them once Jadis rises from the dead. It was a perfect distraction for him, seeing that they were doing his specialty, but his eyes had strayed one time on Peter's window and now, all of his concentration was broken.

Peter's library overlooked the garden of Cair Paravel and outside, Edmund could see the figures of a pregnant Susan, a laughing Lucy, and the one person that seemed to reside in his mind for the past few days.

All thoughts of concentration were thrown outside the window and all he could think about was, once again, Hermione Granger.

Edmund tuned out Peter and Caspian's conversation as his eyes magnetized towards the window. Susan was sitting on his usual chair in the gazebo, watching as Lucy and Hermione plucked flowers from the garden and putting them on baskets. A wide smile was drawn on Hermione's face and Edmund's heart, without really meaning to, skipped a beat.

His mouth slowly twisted into a scowl, annoyed that the brunette could look happy when he was slowly growing insane inside. Here he was, thinking about her, every day and every night, while there she was, smiling as if she was perfectly okay that they were not talking when he frankly was not.

Truth be told, it was a struggle not to stare at her every time she was within his vision. He had to think of a lot of things just so he could distract himself, but for some strange reason, her face would always pop into his mind.

Involuntarily, he licked his lips and sighed. It was preposterous, how his affections would be all directed towards the mysterious witch that could possibly be the Daughter of Eve in the great prophecy. He had always been surrounded with battle plans and warfare and anything about romance and women never bothered him. Thalia was a living proof, seeing that he had declined her affections despite her startling beauty.

And then, there was Hermione Granger. She did not exactly possess an awe-inspiring beauty, but she had this certain charm that made her stand out in a crowded room. She was not exactly ladylike, but her intelligence and wit overshadowed that flaw. She was not conventional, but her uniqueness and the fire in her spirit were the factors that had attracted his attention.

The fact that she was technically from the future was all the more confusing. She knew a lot about their time, during the 40's, and she had grown in an environment entirely different from his own. And she was magical, too! Although he had not yet witnessed the magic in her, she had convinced him that she was not ordinary at all.

How could he not be attracted to a remarkable woman?

'And she's asking me to properly discern,' he thought with a scowl. He is King Edmund Pevensie the Just, Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table; he properly discerns. How could he lead a troop of soldiers to war if he was indecisive? Of course he had properly discerned his feelings and how dare she judge them!

"Edmund, you're crumpling the battle plan," Peter stated.

The youngest king slightly colored and released his grip with the blueprint. "I'm sorry," he said, smoothing its creases. "My thoughts suddenly turned… passionate."

Caspian softly snorted and shook his head. "I reckon we must stop planning for now," he said, languidly stretching his arms over his head. "Stressing over these is already showing its negative effects."

The High King nodded his head in agreement.

"Is everything all right with you and Edmund?"

A wry smile appeared on Hermione's face. 'Took you long enough,' she said inside her mind, surprised that Lucy was able to stop herself from asking for exactly five minutes – it was a record.

They were in the garden of Cair Paravel, randomly picking flowers for the decorations of the castle. Susan was slumbering in the gazebo, already feeling tired since she was already on the third trimester her pregnancy [1]. The oldest queen had stopped having morning sicknesses now but her sudden sleepiness became evident; thus, Lucy and Hermione did not seem to mind.

"Hermione?" the youngest queen asked, urging her to answer immediately.

The brunette sighed and looked at Lucy with wary. "How can you say something's wrong between us?" she asked.

"You don't talk anymore," the queen said matter-of-factly.

"Of course we do," Hermione lamely interjected, bending down to pluck a tulip from the ground.

"No, you don't," Lucy stubbornly said, holding both of Hermione's hands to force the brunette to look at her. "Great Aslan, but I believe that something horrible happened between you and my brother. Why can't you tell me, Hermione? Did Edmund become insufferable again? I can disown him, if you say so."

A soft chuckle escaped from Hermione's lips as she patted Lucy's hand. "Everything's all right," she assured. "We've got it under control. Something… happened but I'm sure your brother will agree with me if you don't, for lack of a better word, meddle."

Lucy looked slightly hurt. "I just wanted to see you genuinely smile again," she said.

Hermione's smile faltered. "What do you mean?" she asked.

The queen sighed and walked towards the pavement, opting to sit down on it and stare up at Hermione. "You're not happy anymore," she said. A look of confusion appeared on Hermione's face and Lucy frowned. "Well, you look happy most of the time but you're not exactly happy happy anymore."

She looked at her in amusement. "That made sense," she joked, but Lucy merely scowled.

"Look, why don't you just talk to him?" Lucy asked, a pleading tone in her voice. "End your sadness, maybe. Edmund can have monumental fits if he wants to and I am sure he won't be the first person to apologize."

Hermione sighed and sat down beside the queen. "I'll be all right," she said, drawing the young queen into a hug. "What happened between us needs time. Everything will end drastically if we rushed things."

"Even Edmund isn't acting the same anymore," the youngest Pevensie said. "And it's rare for Edmund to act so unlike himself. Whatever had happened between the two of you had affected him greatly, you know."

The brunette's eyes looked upwards and when they landed on a window, she was surprised to see the figure of Edmund. He was deep in thought, a small frown on his face and his eye browns knitted together.

A small, sad smile appeared on her face as she looked back at Lucy. "I know, your majesty," she said very softly. "I swear to Merlin I do."

Hermione took a huge breath as she walked outside of Cair Paravel. The sky was a beautiful black with stars dotting all over it. The breeze was a little warm today and Hermione knew it was a good idea not to bring her cloak today.

She stepped down from the steps toward the garden, meaning to spend a few minutes in the gazebo before retiring back to bed.

Her feet crushed some dried leaves and wet grass and before she knew it, she was standing outside the gazebo. The only difference, though, was that she was frozen on her spot because Edmund was already inside it.

"You…" she started, although she had left her expression hanging in the air. It was evident she was surprised that he was here, seeing that he had obviously avoided this place ever since they kissed twice. Now that he was really inside, Hermione couldn't hide the astonishment he was feeling.

Coolly, Edmund looked at her and said, "Good evening."

His words had sent shivers down her spine. 'I thought it was a warm night,' she thought, slightly scowling when she stepped into the gazebo. She sat down on her usual space and a tensed silence settled between the two.

He was looking at a spot in the garden and Hermione was staring at him through her peripheral vision. Edmund's face was void of any emotion and Hermione had this inkling that he had come here to this place by accident.

Awkwardly, she wrung her wrists, at loss of what to do. Her mind started to debate whether she must flee or not, but she decided that the latter was the best choice to make Edmund understand that she just wanted this whole ordeal to stop already.

It turned out, though, that he did not. "I've been thinking for days," he started, his words slow and calculating. His eyes still refused to meet hers but Hermione's had landed squarely on him. "I've contemplated what I truly felt for you."

A small blush appeared on her face and she visibly swallowed. "And?" she whispered, her voice almost inaudible.

Slowly, he looked back at her, his onyx eyes hard and determined. Hermione's heart sank, already knowing his answer before he even voiced them out. "I still believe they are true," he stated with so much regal and conviction, prompting Hermione to flinch.

Her face slightly crumpled with desperation. "Edmund…"

"No," he said, almost petulantly. "Do not tell me what to feel, Hermione."

She pursed her lips and sighed, knowing that fighting with him would be futile. "And I still believe that your feelings will be a distraction from the prophecy," she stated tiredly. His face hardened with her words but Hermione merely shook her head.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice now slightly laced with confusion. "Why are you refusing even before trying?"

A humourless laugh escaped from her lips. "I've been in a war, remember?" she asked. "I've taken a huge part in it and I've learned a lot of things from it. We are amidst a war, Edmund. A looming war. Based from experience, any romantic relationships can end tragically."

Her mind instantly landed on Ron and her supposed relationship with him. Her heart wrenched in pain, now angry that even before they could properly express their feelings for each other, he was suddenly taken away from her.

Unwanted tears formed at the corner of her eyes as she looked back at Edmund again. "You have a kingdom to protect," she continued. "And we all believe that I was brought here to help you. Let me do my task, your majesty. Please… can't we just go back to what we used to be and… and continue planning for the upcoming war?"

Edmund tiredly rested his head against the backrest and released a long, tired sigh. "I'm trying," he whispers, turning his head to look at her. "Very hard, I tell you, because it's obvious everything is… one-sided."

A pang struck her heart and she looked away, a small tear rolling down from her eyes in the process.

"But, I've triggered something," he continues, closing his eyes to show his honesty. "I don't think that whatever we do, we'll go back to our old ways."

Silence then ensued and Hermione started to silently cry. It took a few minutes for Edmund to stand up and slowly walk out of the gazebo without a word. He had stopped beside Hermione, a strange look on his face, before he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her.

She directed her wet eyes at him in mild surprise before gingerly grasping it. "T-thank you," she shakily said, and he curtly nodded, immediately looking away from her.

"Good evening," he finally said, and then completely strode out from the gazebo.

Hermione sadly stared at his form, her tears continuously rolling down from her face. "Good evening," she whispered back once he was gone, her heart breaking into a million pieces.

[1] I think I rushed Susan's pregnancy *insert sheepish chuckling here*. LOL, let's just go with the flow, perhaps? :D Besides, Susan's pregnancy is not exactly part of the major plot.

A/N: So, good? Bad? Eh? Meh?

LOL, somehow, I can predict some of your reactions. Your reviews of the previous chapter were amusing, saying that you couldn't wait for the seemingly "happiness" after the kiss in the last chapter. Well, sorry to crush your lil hearts but I deem that it still isn't time for that. A little drama can suffice XD Hermione can be such a stubborn girl sometimes, eh?

Anyway, so I promised to update today since I'll be gone tomorrow and I'll be home on Sunday night. I promise that my usual update schedule will be back to normal next week, except of course if there were some sudden interruptions and whatnots. Although June is already approaching, I still have roughly three and half more weeks of summer before I officially become a first year pre-med student. AND, seeing that I'm studying pre-medicine, then do expect that I'm going to be a little scarce in the fanfiction world. I'm still making two Dramione stories, one a novel-length and the other a five-chaptered story. The latter will be finished soon. Probably, I will post it next week. And of course, I'm also working on a Merlin/HP crossover. So yeah, maybe I won't be writing for a while but at least I'm working on three projects now.

I think that's it for now. Do tell me your opinions about this chapter on your reviews.

With love,
WickedlyAwesomeMe :)