Hi - if you're reading this then you made it through two chapters of my story =) Congratulations XD Anyways, this chapter is set after the Third Task in Harry Potter - after Fudge has come in with Snape and Sirius has left.

It was horrible for Hermione to even look at Harry.

Whenever she looked at him, her mind seemed to replay the night's events...and if they made her feel bad, she hated to think about how he felt. Even with a dreamless sleep potion, she didn't want Harry to have to think about that.

Ron was sat in the chair next to her, looking gaunt and pale whenever he looked at Harry. Mrs Weasley was possibly the worst. Her face was red, streaked with tears as she slept in the chair next to Harry's bed. Bill had gone back to the Burrow. He had wanted to stay, but Mrs Weasley had persuaded him to go – as Mr Weasley had wanted to come to Hogwarts, too, but she had wanted him to stay home. Hermione didn't blame her. She knew Harry wouldn't want everybody crowded around his bed right now.

She wished Sirius could have stayed. Harry seemed calmer with him here. But it wasn't safe for him to stay. It wasn't safe at all.

Besides her, Ron shifted to look directly at her.

'Hi.'

'Hi.'

Hermione sat there quietly, not knowing what to say as she glanced at the jam jar by her foot where a beetle was sat. She had to let out a small smirk at that. Rita Skeeter was never writing more lies about Harry. He didn't deserve that – he never had and most certainly did not now.

'What are you smiling at?' Ron asked her curiously. Hermione shook her head, her face returning to its previous gaunt expression.

'Nothing – it doesn't matter. I'll tell you later. When Harry's...' she considered her next words. 'Better,' she resolved. She had no idea what that meant – and that was almost impossible for Hermione Granger.

'Why can't you tell me now?'

'I just can't, Ron.'

'Why?'

'Ron, I can't!'

'Why can't –'

'Shush!' Madam Pomfrey hissed, appearing from her office with a sharp glare at the pair of them. They both ducked their heads as she gave them one last warning glare, pointing at Harry before disappearing back into her office.

'That was your fault,' Hermione snapped. 'Why do you have to be so loud?'

'Oh and I bet Vicky isn't,' Ron snapped back at her. Hermione blushed.

'What has Viktor got to do with anything at the moment? We should be worrying about Harry – not arguing about Viktor.' She considered something for a moment. 'Although I bet you're wishing you had Fleur Delacour for company now, instead of me.'

Ron opened his mouth and seemed to be struggling to say something. Then he closed his mouth and glared at her. 'I don't like Fleur.'

That surprised Hermione. For one moment she let shock flicker across her face – but then glared at him. 'Neither do I.'

Ron just rolled his eyes, surprising Hermione.

'What about Vicky?' Ron sneered. Hermione blushed again. This wasn't like her – not at all.

'That is none of your business,' she snapped back. They both jumped as Mrs Weasley shifted in her sleep.

'And I think you'll find you are the one who needs to shut up right now, Hermione!' Ron snapped. Hermione resisted the urge to throw something at him, but just as she opened her mouth to say something, there was a belated, quiet and muffled laugh that made her jump out of her skin – she knew that laugh.

She and Ron's heads snapped around to face Harry, whose eyes were half open as he looked at both of them, his hand resting on his infamous scar.

'Something's never change,' he muttered, rubbing his scar. 'You two are so stupid.' Ron and Hermione both blushed scarlet – but Hermione instinctively jumped up, trying to ignore it.

'What is it? Does your scar hurt?'

Harry shook his head, but Hermione could tell he was lying. At that moment, Mrs Weasley jerked awake.

'Harry – you're awake,' she said warily. She noticed Harry's hand moving away from his scar and opened her mouth to say something, but Ron shook his head at his mother, looking suddenly exhausted. Mrs Weasley closed her mouth and sighed, grabbing the bottle of dreamless sleep potion.

'You should take your potion, Harry,' she said shakily. Harry's eyes were already fluttering closed, but she made him take it. It was better Harry didn't have any dreams – seeing as he had enough nightmare material in his life to send anyone else into a spiralling depression.

Harry groaned once he had taken the potion and Mrs Weasley watched him for a moment, before smiling sadly and sitting back down in her chair.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other once more and blushed.