(Disclaimer: I am not Rowling. All characters and material surrounding the Harry Potter series mentioned are hers, not mine. This is not for profit, only entertainment. Enjoy, review, share, etc…but especially review. Thanks for lending a voice, Rowling. )

Enjoy.

The following chapter is written in first person view, as told by Harry Potter.

It's been a few days since I last spoke to Ron. Every time I see him, he immediately runs away in the opposite direction. It's like I'm a disease—and there is no cure.

It hurts.

In the Great Hall, I catch the eye of Hermione while we sit and eat our food in an uncomfortable silence. Ginny keeps glancing back and forth between Hermione and I.

"Harry? Where's Ron?" Ginny asks me.

I run my fingers through my hair; a nervous habit I've picked up recently.

"He's not here."

Ginny scoffs. "Well that's apparent."

I watch Hermione cringe at those words. I suspect that she's heard them before.

"I haven't spoken to him in days, Ginny. You know this."

She scoffs again. "Of course I know that, Harry. But you refuse to tell me why. Both of you refuse. I have a right to know, you know."

The heavy silence continues.

"Did you two have a row, Harry?" I realize she's starting to sound more like her mother these days.

I don't answer her. She turns to Hermione.

"Alright then," she states. "Did you have a row with Ron?"

She doesn't answer either.

"When either of you feel like talking, please don't hesitate to talk to me. I'm going to find my brother."

She's pissed, I can tell. Her hair is doing that magical sparkle thing that Ron's does when he's upset.

Hermione's brown eyes focus on me.

"What did he tell you, Harry?"

I shake my head. "He didn't have to tell me anything, Mione. I almost had him. I almost had him, and then I told him that I knew. He told me to 'piss off' and that was the end of the conversation."

"Harry I didn't mean—"

"Save it, Hermione. Alright? Just stop. It hurts enough. Not being able to hold him; to kiss him. And here you are, shacking up with his sister!"

More silence follows. But it's not just between us. There are several horrified onlookers.

"What the bloody hell are you all looking at?" I yell.

"He's a nutter," I hear someone say.

"If I'm a nutter, then what's your mum?" I retort.

"Oi! You don't get to talk about my mum, you freak!"

"Piss off, yeah? Why don't you keep your face in the Daily Prophet and out of my life?"

"I would, if you kept your life out of my breakfast!"

The kid is standing now. It's some large fourth year with light brown hair and the most shocking pair of hazel eyes I've ever seen. I can tell he's a fourth year because he still hasn't got the hang of tying a decent Windsor.

I might find him rather cute, if he wasn't currently shouting at me.

I turn to Hermione. "I'm out of here."

"Harry!" I don't hear her.

I walk out of the Great Hall. I know there's eyes on my back and whispers as I go.

(A/N: How'd you like this one? I'll update as soon as possible. Thanks again for the reviews I've received so far. Honestly, you guys make my life. :) Can't thank you enough. Review this one, please? Am I asking too much? I really want to know what you think. Is there anything I can improve on? Any suggestions that you have for me? Leave a comment, or hit my inbox or something. I'll try to respond, asap.

I'll upload again as soon as I find a decent place and decent state of mind to write. :) There's more to come, readers. Don't worry. In the time being, leave your opinions! :) Thanks, guys. All of you are lovely.)