DISCLAIMER: The characters, places, and things that are part of the Harry Potter universe all belong to J.K. Rowling, though should she choose to give up ownership of Ron, then I would gladly take him. This particular story, however, is mine.

Two weeks later, Hermione went back to Hogsmeade again, opting to Apparate directly there instead of taking in the sights like her last trip to the village. She wasn't going to let the holiday cheer distract her; she needed to keep her focus.

After she'd left George weeks ago, she'd thrown herself back into her studies, working feverishly in order to prevent thoughts of Ron from invading her mind. Yet he still managed to sneak in there somehow, the stupid sod, whenever she let herself relax. Visions of Ron flirting with beautiful, nameless girls filled her dreams at night, making her toss and turn restlessly in her bed. She even had a nightmare in which he'd met one of these witches for a passionate lunchtime rendezvous at the Leaky Cauldron.

She was constantly on edge, relying only on books and scrolls of parchment to keep her company. It was reminiscent of her hectic third year when she'd bitten off much more than she could chew. She'd nearly lost her sanity then and barely managed to keep it together. She can't afford to make the same mistake again. But even as she told herself that, her temper continued to snap quickly and often, causing her to shun her friends and handing out detentions to various students over minor infractions that normally warranted just a warning. When Filch actually complimented her on her newfound rigid disciplinary practices, Hermione knew that she would keep going down the wrong path if she didn't rein herself in.

Wearing her heart on her sleeve and letting emotions rule wasn't her style. Ron may be prone to jealous rages and acting irrationally, but she wasn't. No, she preferred to rely on cool logic and common sense. Setting her feelings aside, she did what came naturally to her and formulated a plan. She had no solid proof that Ron had cheated or even looked twice at someone else. She was incriminating him based on George's word and her own overactive imagination. The fact that he had stopped writing was the only real proof she had and even that didn't necessarily mean that Ron had replaced her with someone new. She needed concrete evidence and she was about to take the first step in attaining that evidence today.

Hermione entered the Three Broomsticks and headed for Madam Rosmerta, who was standing behind the bar. "There you are, Hermione," she greeted with a smile. "What can I get you?"

Hermione suddenly remembered Ron's childhood crush on the woman. She would be his type, she thought bitterly. Attractive, curvy, knows how to cook. If Madam Rosmerta were a Quidditch enthusiast and a Chudley Cannons fan, she'd be all but perfect in Ron's eyes. Hermione tried not to scowl at her. "Two butterbeers, please."

Madam Rosmerta deftly pulled out two warm bottles as she listened to another customer's order. "He's already upstairs," she said in response to Hermione's unspoken question. "Third door on your left."

She started to pay for the drinks, but the barmaid waved it off. "Just go on up."

Hermione now felt guilty for her ill feelings towards her. "Thank you." She left to go up the stairs, silently reminding herself not to let dark thoughts of Ron cloud her judgment. "Think of the plan," she whispered. It would do to keep in mind that Ron was innocent until proven otherwise.

Upon reaching her destination, she knocked on the door before pushing it open. A quick glance at the surroundings showed her that was Madam Rosmerta's office. On the other side of the threshold stood the one person who could help her.

"Harry." She put the bottles down on a nearby table and hugged him tightly. "I'm so glad to see you."

Harry grinned as he released her. "I've missed you, Hermione. Ginny says hello, by the way. How is school? How's everyone?"

They sat down at the pair of chairs by a small table away from Madam Rosmerta's work desk. She passed him a bottle and replied, "I've been busy. N.E.W.T. year, you know." She opted not to tell him about Filch's recent praises over her tyrannical attitude.

"Does this mean you're living in the library, then?" he joked.

"You know very well Madam Pince would never allow it," she replied. Harry bit back a laugh at the sincerity of her tone. Only Hermione would take such a statement seriously and consider the library her home. Well, Hermione and Madam Pince, that is.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" she asked him. "Hagrid would love to see you, and Professor McGonagall too."

He shook his head. "That's all right. I can visit them another time." He relished any opportunity to remain inconspicuous and was grateful that Madam Rosmerta had agreed to let them use her office for privacy. For a few moments he would simply be Harry, not Harry the hero. "Besides, I'm here to see you. I'm sorry that I couldn't come by sooner. I received your letter a few days ago, but I couldn't find the time until now."

"Did you bring it?" she asked eagerly.

Harry picked up his rucksack off the floor and pulled out the invisibility cloak. He made no move to give it to Hermione when she expectantly reached out for it. "You never mentioned why you wanted to borrow this."

"I need it for a fact-finding mission," she said simply, having decided days ago that it would be the safest response to the question she'd correctly predicted he'd ask.

"A fact-finding mission?" Harry repeated. "You mean like research?"

"Yes. Yes, it is." The less he knew, the better.

Still he refused to hand over the cloak. "What kind of research are you doing that would require this?"

"Can I please just borrow the cloak?" she asked, her impatience growing. Why was he being so difficult?

Her refusal to give him a straight answer stirred his curiosity. He couldn't help but tease her. "Oh, so it's a top secret, classified, fact-finding mission. Would you like the Marauder's Map as well? I have to tell you, Hermione, you sneaking around Hogwarts without me and Ron just doesn't sound right."

"I don't need your map, thank you, since I won't be sneaking around the school! Need I remind you that I'm Head Girl—"

"You were a prefect when we formed Dumbledore's Army from under Umbridge's ugly nose. That didn't stop you from breaking the rules."

"Harry—"

"Are you planning on visiting the restricted section?"

"I don't need it to go to the bloody library!" she exclaimed. "It's none of your business what it's for."

"You're wrong," Harry countered, the teasing tone in his voice gone. "I agreed to meet with you, which means by default I am involved in this fact-finding mission of yours. By asking to use the cloak, you are making whatever you're doing my business. This is a family heirloom, in case you've forgotten—"

"I'll be careful with it," she promised through gritted teeth. She hadn't expected him to complicate her well-formulated plan. He was supposed to agree to let her borrow the cloak without asking any questions!

"I know you will. That wasn't the point. Hermione, if you're in some kind of trouble and you're not telling us…we may not be here with you anymore, but we would still help," he told her, speaking for himself and Ron.

"You really want to know?" she asked, recognizing defeat. She should have foreseen that he wouldn't loan her the cloak without knowing her purpose. Without waiting for his confirmation, she continued, "I need it so I can keep an eye on Ron while he's at the shop. There, I hope you're happy."

Harry gaped at her in disbelief. "Spying on Ron? Are you even hearing yourself?"

"Loud and clear." She folded her arms in front of her chest, braced for his objections. She was prepared to defend her reasons and knew that she wouldn't leave the Three Broomsticks without making him see it her way. Whether he liked it or not, she was going back to Hogwarts with the cloak. "And it's not spying, Harry. It's research, as you so accurately described it."

"You're mad!"

"On the contrary, this plan makes perfect sense. It's a right sight better than imagining him with someone else. At least by spying on him, I can see for myself if he's cheating on me!"

Harry thought she sounded far from logical…more like borderline crazy. In his brief nineteen-year existence, he'd learned to tread carefully with emotional women. After all, he is currently dating someone with a fiery temper, a witch who could hit him with the Bat-Bogey Hex before he could utter Expelliarmus! But Hermione's plan didn't sound like a plan at all; if anything, it seemed incredibly rash and improvised. The approach was more his style, not hers. "Hermione, this is Ron you're talking about. What makes you think he'd do such a thing?"

"George said—"

"George?" he cut in. "You really are barking. You ought to know better than to take anything he says seriously!"

Hermione certainly hadn't eliminated the possibility that George had embellished Ron's appeal to the female population. But whether he was exaggerating or not, his remark had brought out the insecurities she'd been burying for years by seeking solace in books and knowledge. "George said," she went on as if he'd never interrupted, "that girls are throwing themselves at Ron nowadays."

Harry scoffed at this bit of information. "I've gone to the shop plenty of times and I saw nothing of the sort."

"Perhaps you'd misplaced your glasses on those days," she remarked stiffly, refusing to be placated.

"All he does is talk about you whenever I see him!"

"I suppose he can't keep chattering about food and Quidditch all the time."

"Who could he possibly be interested in?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Hermione threw up her hands in frustration. Why couldn't he understand? It didn't matter who exactly caught Ron's attention; it was the fact that he would have plenty of options, therefore increasing the chances for temptation. The odds are even greater since he now lived in the rooms above the shop. The now familiar and ever tiresome image of Ron's idiotic grin as he stood among his many swooning admirers swam to the surface of her mind. If he weren't already cheating, then it would only be a matter of time before he did. "Diagon Alley is crawling with witches. Take your pick!"

"All right, let's say that George wasn't kidding," Harry said, deciding to play along for the sake of correcting her stubborn mindset. "That still doesn't mean that Ron is running around on you. I can understand how difficult it is with the distance—"

"He hasn't written me in months! He just stopped for no reason. Then George tells me about all of the attention Ron's getting. What else could it be? How would it make you feel?" She felt tears prick her eyes as she finally voiced her worries. She refused to give in to jealousy again, having been consumed by it for two weeks. But she would rather succumb to the green-eyed monster than go through the heartache. She willed herself not to cry over him. She wanted to remain angry, if only to keep the pain at bay.

"So why don't you just write him to find out what's going on instead of spying on him like a crazy, paranoid person?"

She ignored his barb. "Since he never answered my last one, I highly doubt he'll respond to any new letters that come from me!"

"Let me talk to him then," Harry suggested.

"No. This is not your problem." She also didn't want Harry tipping him off if Ron really was doing something wrong.

It seems that nothing could change her mind. It was weird to see her rejecting his rational reasons in favor of a ridiculous scheme. Still, he would try one last time to appeal to her sense of logic. "Hermione, it is the holidays," he carefully pointed out. "Surely he's just busy at the shop. Whatever you're thinking…Ron wouldn't do that. If there is someone else, and I highly doubt there is, he'd end it first rather than you finding out this way." She remained obstinately silent and he could see that no matter how many reassurances or alternatives he gave her, she wouldn't be satisfied until she determined Ron's faithfulness, or lack thereof, for herself. Who was he to deny her the answers she sought?

"I still think this is a bad idea," he sighed, but he pushed the invisibility cloak towards her.

Hermione briefly laid her hand on top of his. "Thank you, Harry."

Innocent until proven guilty. With the end of the first term around the corner and the holiday break rapidly approaching, it won't be long until she reached a verdict.