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Chapter 3- A small accident

What is wrong with me? This is not possible… I just want to understand; what is this thing burning me on the inside?

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"There you are, dear!"

"Oh, hello Mrs. Weasley" a girl with bushy brown hair complimented. "What can I do to help?"

"You could put the table for breakfast, please" Mrs Weasley asked in a soft voice; she was carrying a pile of clean clothes that covered her vision. When she placed the clothes on a basket, her eyes fell upon the girl. "Hermione, have you been crying, dear?" the short woman worriedly asked.

"No, no! I just scratched my eye because I had something in it; it's fine now", Hermione stated, but everything in her voice indicated she was not telling the truth. Deciding it was best not to press the subject Mrs. Weasley walked over to the stove and started preparing the meal.

The girl with bushy brown hair put the table in less than five minutes, and when it was done, she installed herself in a window-sill. Only part of the garden was visible; however, no speck of red could be spotted from that angle. Breathing in relief, Hermione turned her attention to Mrs. Weasley. "I haven't seen Mr. Weasley yet. How is he doing?"

"Arthur is fine, just been busy lately. This promotion came in a good time, but now he works like a doomed" Mrs. Weasley replied, smiling. It was clear in her voice that her feelings towards the promotion were torn.

Simply nodding, Hermione turned her brown eyes to the sky outside; clouds were covering the sun. Looking down to the garden, the brunette saw a tall thin boy crossing a dirt path that led to the kitchen entrance. Realising what was about to happen, Hermione quickly mumbled something that sounded like "Help… Ginny… room", and left the division not giving time for a reply.

When Ron Weasley entered, she was already far from there. The boy's expression was unreadable; his blue eyes stared cautiously as he closed the door behind him. "Good morning, Mum."

"Good morning, Ron!" Mrs. Weasley happily replied, walking over to Ron and kissing on the cheek. The boy tried to escape, but his mother was quicker. "Mum!" he protested, rubbing his cheek.

Smiling, Mrs. Weasley acted like she hasn't heard anything; she knew her son hated those maternal kisses, but it was too hard to resist. "Don't worry, Pumpkin. I won't let anyone know", the short round woman stated, her face widening with a smile.

Rolling his eyes, Ron pulled a chair. When he was about to sit, Mrs. Weasley asked him to go call the girls. His heart sink: that meant he would have to call her too. Reluctantly, the red haired boy made his way out of the kitchen and into the girls' room.

As he approached, his ears captured fragments of a sentence: "… letter from Viktor Krum. Sharpening his senses, Ron pressed the right ear against the door.

"So, he still writes to you, huh?" Ginny's voice inquired, in a rather amused tone.

"Yeah, frequently. We're good friends, you know? Viktor really is a special guy." At these words, a certain boy banged his head hard on the door. In a second, Hermione was at the door and pulled it suddenly. Consequentially, Ron fell over her, and both landed on the floor; still in shock, Ron's blue eyes stared deeply into the girl's brown ones.

Ginny's laughter seemed to startle both of them, who were still lying on the floor, Ron on top of the girl, their legs tangled. Rising clumsily, the blue eyed boy stretched a hand to help Hermione, but she refused to grab it and rose for herself.

"You should have seen your faces!" Ginny managed to say between laughter. They remained in silence, clearly embarrassed to speak; Hermione's cheeks were red and Ron's pale face was even paler.

"I'm sorry…" Ron muttered, dropping his gaze into the floor.

"You were listening into our conversation, so as you may imagine I have a letter to write. If you'll excuse me", and with those words, the brunette left the room, bumping into Ron as she did so.

"You two need to have a serious conversation, brother!" Ginny Weasley said, patting Ron on the shoulder. Shrugging, the red haired boy announced in a clear voice: "Mum called for breakfast."

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This is not possible! We're only friends, right? I can't possibly be… Oh my, this is not good! I must stay away from him; yes, I'll keep the distances…

(Knock, knock)

"Iz zhat you, Errmyone? Mrs Weasley called for breakfast!" Fleur Delacour informed. She was staring at the bathroom's closed door, her arms crossed against her chest. "Will you come out, pleaze?"

The door opened only to reveal a young girl with brown hair, whose eyes seemed to be slightly reddened. "I know where the kitchen is, alright? I can go on my own!" the girl said in a defiant way.

Turning around in a gracious manner, Fleur walked away, swinging her long blonde hair. Hermione rolled her eyes in an annoyed way and followed the other girl a few seconds later, but instead of going to the kitchen, the brown eyed girl entered Ginny's room. Closing the door carefully, she walked in the direction of a trunk and took out a thick blue book with a sign that read: 'Keep out, or you'll be cursed!'

Not thinking twice the brunette tapped it with the wand and whispered: "Parchment, feather, ink!" These three words were clearly some kind of incantation to disclose what was inside the book, because the silver chains that were strapped to the cover were immediately removed.

In fact, it wasn't a book: it was a diary. Turning some written pages, Hermione found one that was void of letters, and grabbed a feather to start writing.

Dear Diary, I can only confide to you my most secrets thoughts, hopes and wishes. I know that lately the subject has been the same (and you must be tired of it by now), but what can I do? All I think is about him Do you think I should tell R-

"Hermione, will you come for breakfast?" a female voice asked.

"I'm coming, Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione replied, hastily concealing the diary in the trunk, but not before tapping it with the wand and whispering: "Hide your secrets!"

Then, the brunette sighed and walked out of the room. She could hide her thoughts, but she could not hide herself from the world. As she took a seat at the kitchen table, her eyes avoided a certain red haired person who was eating porridge with a grumpy expression.

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Note: I'm terribly sorry; I know that Ron's eyes are blue and not brown! It was my mistake, so here you have my apologies.