Hermione tried her best to maintain her composure as she stared at her Transfiguration text book. Ron had…had… In front of the entire class and…now he was preening himself, and Parvati and…Lavender were giggling, and tossing their hair and…
She recited Transfiguration formulae to herself, trying desperately to keep her lower lip from trembling, or tears from spilling down her cheeks. It was as if all the misery of the past weeks was welling up inside her, and Harry looking at her as though he expected her to explode wasn't helping.
Everything had been so awful – she had to watch Ron with…Lavender, every single night, doing all the things – kissing and laughing and holding hands – that he was supposed to be doing with her. He was supposed to be going to Slughorn's party with her, he was supposed to be going out with her and…
Hermione had no idea what had gone wrong – one minute she'd been wondering what she should wear to Slughorn's party and not one hour later, Ron had been tongue-wrestling with her. Hermione felt as though she'd been stabbed in the heart every time she saw them together, and she wanted to hit Ron. She'd asked him out….she'd made her feelings about him absolutely plain and he'd just…
She'd heard Lavender whispering about her canaries to Parvati – apparently Ron had said they hurt. Well she didn't care – she was glad – she'd do it again given half the chance. Ron had made her think that maybe they'd…and now she had to listen to Lavender simpering every night about what a good kisser he was, and how much he liked to…touch her, and how his hands tended to wander, and…
She was so angry it was hard to breathe sometimes – it'd clench up in her gut until she wanted to throw up – except she wouldn't throw up, horrible, weak, wrenching tears would spill out and she have to hide in the girl's bathrooms. Lately she felt a lot more sympathy for Cho Chang.
It just hurt so much, and it wouldn't seem to stop hurting, no matter what she did. She tried not to think of it – tried to put it out of her mind and concentrate on schoolwork or talking to Harrry (and he really was trying his best) but it was always there – a retarding weight on all of her thoughts, and it made her miserable.
She had no one to talk to, not really – although he meant well, there was no way she would talk to Harry about Ron, and Ginny was…well she and Ginny weren't speaking. They'd been not speaking for several weeks, and Hermione knew it was partially her fault. In the days after the Quidditch match, when Ginny had tried to talk to her – had left Arnold and chocolate on her bed, and tried to join her for breakfast – Hermione had been too raw, too angry at the things Ginny had said, to let her help.
Eventually Ginny gave up, and so there had been silence between them ever since. Hermione hated it, but at the same time…there was no way she was going to break the ice. She had been there for Ginny through all her woes – with Harry, and Michael, and Dean, and…Tom Riddle – and who was Ginny to just turn away when Hermione needed her most? To just toss it all away because Hermione had defended a boy she liked when he'd done something stupid – like Ginny hadn't made excuses for Michael in the past. Every time she thought about it, Hermione could feel herself becoming angry, and in a way it was almost a relief – while Ginny had hurt her and made her furious, there wasn't any betrayal between them. That was the thing that stung about Ron – Hermione liked to think that she could have accepted him having a girlfriend (not that she'd have liked it) if he hadn't already promised to go out with her.
Once the bell rang, she rushed out of McGonagall's classroom as quickly as possible, and made for the nearest bathroom. In a trice she had barricaded herself n a cubicle and buried her head in her knees.
Ron had just tossed her aside for some…bimbo, some brainless twit (who wouldn't even be brainless if she had the sense to care about something other than boys, which was especially aggravating.) He'd chosen Lavender, because she was blonde and pretty, and she put Ron before every other thing, even her friends. Which was what he wanted – not sense, not cleverness or loyalty, just shiny hair and a willingness to fluff his ego. And because Hermione wouldn't do that, because she had priorities other than Ron, because she treated him like a normal person and not a god, because she actually used her brain and had a modicum of self-respect and was…difficult – she wasn't good enough.
She wasn't good enough.
Her tears flowed faster than ever, and the skin of her cheeks felt raw, and Hermione rubbed at it viciously with tissue. She was not going to cry over Ron again, she was going to get up and walk into the Great Hall with her head held high and show him just what he was missing…any minute now.
Standing up, she straightened her robes and opened the cubicle door. Catching sight of herself in one of the mirrors was less than pleasant – her face was red, her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair looked as though she'd been given an electric shock. Sighing, Hermione went to wash her face, hoping to undo at least some of the damage.
Once she was done she looked up to see what effect, if any, it had had, and jumped when she saw Luna Lovegood in the mirror.
"Hello Hermione."
"Oh," Hermione said, wiping her face with her sleeve, "Hello."
Luna adjusted one of her radish earrings in the mirror. "How are you?" She said.
"I'm…" To her horror, Hermione found herself welling up again, and she could barely make herself comprehensible when she said, "I'm fine thanks."
"Really?" Luna said mildly. "It's just Ginny told me she thought you were having a hard time, and that she's worried about you, and…" Putting her head to one side she surveyed Hermione carefully, "You don't look fine to me."
"No, really," Hermione said, wiping her eyes with a tissue, "I'm all right, I just…I had a fight with Ron, and…"
"Oh," Luna said, "I understand. Ron can be a bit…cruel sometimes. He's very nice, but sometimes he laughs at things that are a bit mean."
Hermione stared at Luna, who maintained her appearance of calm. She continued in the same even tone. "I don't think he means to be, he's just…got an eye for things, weaknesses I mean…like a Beaky Bird."
"A beaky bird?" Hermione said, bracing herself for what would come next.
"Yes," Luna said, "A Beaky Bird. Their beaks are made of pure diamond, and when they do their mating dance they'll peck, peck, peck at each other until one of them gives in, but sometimes…neither one gives in, and then they both end up bleeding." She added seriously. "That's why Beaky Birds are so rare – magizoologists have yet to study them, because so many die in the mating process."
"Really?"
"Yes," Luna said earnestly. "There are only eighteen every hundred years, but they're favourites pets of the Order of Sesame because they can open any door and…"
Hermione shook her head; there was no way she could continue this conversation and not loose her temper at the…nonsense Luna was spouting. "Thanks Luna," she said, "But I should probably go."
"Oh. Okay then," Luna said, putting an arm around her as they walked out the door – Luna was surprisingly tall. "But why don't you go flying – Ginny always says flying makes her feel better."
Hermione hardly noticed what Luna was saying, or that Harry had come to find her, she was so busy thinking of other things. She was tired of moping around, crying in toilets and being cheered up by Luna Lovegood – of dreading every prefect meeting and every patrol and even being in the same room as Ron. It was time to do something.
It was surprisingly easy to get Cormac McLaggen to ask her out – the work of a full five minutes of eyelash batting and one strategic touch of his arm. Admittedly after spending nearly two hours hiding behind Professor Slughorn and the equally enormous man from the Ministry, in order to avoid being mauled, Hermione was starting to wonder if it was really worth it, but she only had to remember the expression on Ron's face to be well satisfied with herself.
Unfortunately towards the end of the evening Hermione got caught in plain sight, right in front of the punch bowl with Harry and Luna, and with no escape possible, and Cormac looming into view. Just as he opened his mouth, no doubt to ask why she'd been avoiding him (which was, Hermione had to admit, quite rude) Ginny popped in between them.
"Hi Cormac," she said, with the kind of confidence few could summon around Cormac McLaggen, as he was the size of a gorilla. "You don't mind if I borrow Hermione for a minute do you?"
"I…"
"It's just…Dean and I had a bit of a fight, and I was hoping you could talk to him – he really looks up to you, you know, and…you can explain to him how girls think, and feel, since you understand them so well."
Hermione gaped at the act Ginny was putting on for Cormac – if she'd thought her own flirting was blatant, she'd been well-corrected. Amazingly though, he actually seemed to swallow it, and a moment later he was lumbering off in Dean's direction. Harry and Luna looked at Ginny, awed, and Hermione said, "Thanks."
"No problem," Ginny said, grinning. "Honestly, McLaggen Hermione? What were you thinking?"
Hermione's lip curled, and she was about to unleash a few choice words of her own, when Harry said, "Did you and Dean really have a fight?"
Ginny shook her head. "No, he just…I convinced him to do me a good turn and distract Cormac…speaking of whom, we should get going Hermione."
Harry's mouth hung open for a moment, in a comical expression of…something, and Ginny took the opportunity to say goodbye to Luna and escort Hermione from the room.
As they walked down the corridor, Hermione stared at her, and after a moment or two Ginny said, "So…what are you doing for Christmas?"
"What are you doing?" Hermione said, incredulous.
"I was…I was doing you a favour?" Ginny said, lifting her chin in a movement Hermione had come to know well.
"And…what made you think I needed anyone to…'do me a favour' as you put it?" Hermione said.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe that you looked like a deer in headlights all night long. I'm not blind."
"Look…" Hermione said, "I don't want to fight." This was in fact a complete lie; she couldn't help but feel that nothing would make her feel better than a good long fight at the present moment…but fighting with Ginny, though it might actually be cathartic, wouldn't actually help in the long run – with Ron she might have had some chance of fixing things through a nice, loud blow-up, but Ginny…it just didn't work that way.
"Okay," Ginny said. After a moment she added. "Why were you going out with McLaggen – he's a pig with hands, everyone knows that?"
Hermione sighed. "All right," she said, "But it sounds…I wanted to make Ron jealous."
"I sort of assumed," Ginny said, "But McLaggen – this why you need to listen to more gossip Hermione. Did it work at least?"
Hermione shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know – I don't really care any more." She felt horribly tired, and for the first time almost, she was actively looking forward to going home, to getting away from Hogwarts and everyone in it.
Their conversation lapsed into silence as they approached the portrait hole, and Hermione almost thought they were finished when, just as they went up the stairs to the girl's dormitories, Ginny said, "Hermione?"
"Yes," she said, thinking longingly of her bed, and hoping Lavender wouldn't be up, telling more stories of Ron's wonderful tongue.
"Ron did know…about you and Krum, right?"
"Know what?" Hermione said, irritated at being kept from sleep.
"That you were going out with him?"
Thinking back, and annoyed at having to, Hermione said, "I…never actually told him, if that's what you mean – like you with Michael…I didn't want him to know, I thought it would seem…"
"Yeah," Ginny said, chewing on her lower lip, "It's just…"
"It's just what?"
"I think maybe he didn't know."
Ginny looked embarrassed, and Hermione realised that, once again, she was going to have to pry a secret out of her. "Why?"
"Well, you see…I don't remember exactly, but…when I had that…fight, with Ron, I think I said something like…Harry and Hermione have gone out with people, or snogged people or…something, so he shouldn't treat me like I'm so different – I think. I think I said something like that, I'm not sure…I don't remember much of what I said after Auntie Muriel….anyway…it's possible I might have really loused things up on you."
Deciding to ignore the reference to Ginny's extended family, Hermione said, "So…so you're saying the reason…the reason Ron is with that…the reason Ron decided he didn't want to go out with me, he wanted someone…the reason for all of this is because you made fun of him?"
Ginny looked helpless, and suddenly very small, as she said, "I…I thought he knew. Everyone knew – it never even struck me that… If I'd known…"
Hermione stared at her, so furious with Ginny for saying it, and Ron for reacting to it, and with herself, for still caring, for letting it hurt so much, after everything Ron had done, after Lavender, that for a moment she considered reaching for her wand. Ginny looked so contrite though, and sounded so sincere when she said, "I'm really sorry Hermione, really…I shouldn't have…"
Hermione cut her off sharply. "I'm not talking to you."
"Hermione I…"
"I'm going to bed."
And with that, she turned on her heel, and went into the sixth year girl's dormitory.