Hermione closed her eyes and sat down on her bed. It was dark outside. Closing her eyes, she tried to relive the last few hours. When Harry had taken a sip of the Felix Felicis, she had felt that swooping feeling again, as if she was being lifted off her feet in exhilaration. She had felt that way before, mostly with Harry and Ron. It felt like the wind, rushing against your face while you ride a Thestral. It picked you up, lifted you off your feed and suspended you above the air for a while. Hermione had come to refer to it as 'swooping' to herself. She had 'swooped' during the philosopher's stone tests in their first year. She had swooped in her second year, when she realized it was a basilisk that was terrorizing the school. She had swooped in the Shrieking shack in their third year, and in the ministry in her fifth year. When Harry had tipped the potion passed his lips, and she had felt herself swooping again.

She had been thinking about the feeling, or, more accurately, the feelings, a lot. They made her feel special, yet, at the same time very ordinary. They made her feel out of control, yet somehow guided. It was a feeling she had come to love and hate. Hermione craved control. She wanted to know what to do, where to go and figure everything out before acting. Swooping involved chaos. She would lose control, yet somehow, she never felt out of place. Harry, Ron and her would always find some quick answer, always find something to do. If she was at a loss, one of them would help her. If they were at a loss, she would help them. It was a wonderful feeling, being part of a team that didn't expect her to be outstanding; that never made her feel she had to perform.

As they had descended the stairs she felt herself becoming more and more picked up. She was of course dumbstruck by Harry's odd behaviour, yet none the less intrigued by it. She had read about Felix Felicis' effect on people, but seeing the effect on Harry was undeniably fascinating. She descended the stairs, her feeling of elation rising.

Unfortunately, seeing Lavender's face and hearing her shrieks and shouts had about the same effect on her feeling of elation and excitement as a bucket of cold water did to the dreams of a sleepwalking man. Her swoopy feeling had become squished, which only intensified when she tried to back off silently. She had been walking up the steps of the girl's dormitories, when had she heard Lavender call her a slut. Ron had valiantly defended her, but that hadn't taken away all of her feelings of guilt and shame. She had fled up the stairs and ran into the lavatories. They were deserted and their slightly ill-lit and cold cubicles didn't improve Hermione's feelings much. She sat down on one of the toilet bowls and closed her eyes.

Hermione had just been sitting there, with closed eyes and a depressed mood, not knowing when to come out. She was alone. She had felt alone. She had felt alone for quite some time now, since she didn't have many friends besides Harry and Ron. They did. Harry had loads of friends, ranging from professor Lupin and Hagrid, to third year Hufflepufs, that he'd befriended with Quidditch. He might not have noticed it often, but he was actually quite popular. Ron too, had many friends, mainly befriended because of quidditch and his brothers. Just like Harry, he was quite oblivious to it. Hermione had friends, sure, but she didn't have a friend for just these sorts of occasions. She had close friends, closer than most people are friends, but she missed having a girl friend.

Hermione had always been with boys. Harry and Ron were her best friends, but she couldn't discuss the 'girl stuff' with them. It had felt great when Ginny had wanted to talk to her about menstruation, something she had to find out and solve on her own (using books in the library and some helpful pointers of Madam Pomfrey of course). It had been bliss, feeling that sisterly bond for just an hour with her. It had made her friendship with Ginny much more solid. They sought each other out more often since then, discussing 'girl stuff'. She felt lonely, sitting alone on the cold toilet bowl for more than half an hour by then. Tears had been streaming down her face. Her head had seemed to want to show her all of the negative emotions she had been fearing for several weeks now. She went from guilt and shame, past loneliness, to depressed.

Later, someone had entered the lavatories. Hermione had heard her open one of the cubicles and sit down.
That's odd. She didn't even take the time to put down her pants.
It was a known fact that on Hogwarts, it took longer to go to the toilet, because everyone was wearing robes. Hermione heard soft sobs coming from the cubicle. Apparently, the other girl was crying too. I guess I'm not the only one with problems. Perhaps I should go and see what's going on and if Harry has come back yet. She stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes. She opened the cubicle and walked to the mirror. Her eyes were red from crying, and what little mascara was on her face had smudged. She always forgot she was wearing it. She turned around and strode to the door. For a moment, she thought about saying something to the other person in the cubicle, but she decided against it.

Now, she was sitting on the bed, eyes closed and listening to the soft sobs coming from Lavender's bed. She had felt alone in the lavatories, missing a girl to talk to. When she had left the lavatories, she had met up with Ginny immediately. Ginny told her to go to the prefect's bathroom.
"I think Ron really needs to see you right now," she had told her, "He's feeling rather depressed."
"I'll go down there right away."
She turned around to walk to the prefect's bathroom, when Ginny suddenly grabbed her arm.
"Oh, Hermione?" she said, "I'm so glad you and Ron are finally going to get together."
Hermione looked into Ginny's eyes. She smiled and before she realized it had happened, she was hugging her friend tightly.
"Hermione," Ginny said in a wheezy way, "I'd like to breath too."
"You're my best girl friend." Hermione had said, just before running to the prefect's bathroom.

o0o

Hermione put her clothes off, slipped into her pajama and got into bed. She remembered the swooping feeling. If Harry taking Felix Felicis had made her feel like swooping, than Ron had redefined it. She still could not think of it without smiling broadly. They had kissed! At last! He had pulled her into the bath and had kissed her passionately. She could still feel the glowing on her lips. She could still feel the warmth of his embrace. It had been divine, just like she had always hoped it would be. It had made her feel tingly and mushy inside. It had been perfect.

All he has to do is solve his final riddle and they would be together at last!
And with that thought, she fell asleep.

The next morning, Hermione got up early, even for her standards. She wasn't going to force Lavender into bumping into her all the time, so she had decided to get up even earlier to steer clear from her. Lavender always got up around eight, so Hermione decided to get out even before half past seven, just to be sure. Her alarm clock went off at half past six, giving her enough time to pick some clothes, slap on some make-up, and perhaps comb her hair a little. It felt hard getting up so early, but she knew it was going to be a good day, and she wanted to do a bit of extra effort for Ron.

Make-up and styling usually took Hermione too long. It wasn't that she had no interest in it, she just didn't want to spend most of her time at school in front of the mirror. She had calculated that the half an hour she would otherwise have spent at make-up, totalled to a hundred hours of learning or fun. Still, she was prepared to sacrifice that half an hour today, if only to see Ron's face.

She slouched to the bathroom, still half awake. When she stood in front of the mirror, she let out a long yawn, which normally meant her sleepiness was residing. She looked at herself in the mirror. She had never spent much time on her appearance. She went for a short shower, both revitalizing and cleaning herself up.
"Time to see if something about this wreck is salvageable..." she muttered to herself.
After putting on some mascara and eye-liner, she picked up the blow drier. It had been magically altered to include more functions, apart from needing no batteries or plugs. Hermione had never really gotten the hang of it, not because it was hard to operate, but more out of a lack of interest.

When she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a little less bushy, her eyes a little more visible. She had been working on everything for just a few minutes and the results had been worth it.
"Funny how such a small difference can change how you look so much. I guess this wreck can pass for acceptable.." she said critically (and rather unfairly too!).

When she went down to get some lunch, Ron was already sitting there. He was wearing his usual gleeful expression, the one he usually wore when he was feeling exceptionally happy about something. When he noticed her coming down the stairs, he immediately walked up to her. Hermione's insides squirmed. She wanted to hug him, tell him she loved him and spend the day somewhere preferably deserted.

"Hey Hermione," he said, "Breakfast isn't being served yet, so I guess we're going to have to wait a while."
"Good morning Ron. You're up early, even for my standards."
Ron smiled at her. Her insides squirmed again. She could feel her constraints shrinking. Ron's smile was breaking down her inner defences.
"I've had a rough night."
So far, Ron hadn't yet jumped on her, nor tried to kiss her. She had half expected him to, seeing as that they were alone in the great hall. His self-control seemed to be enough to keep him from her, at least for the time being.
"Nice weather, isn't it?" Ron said looking up at the ceiling.
The weather? Ron is actually talking about the weather after everything that had happened? Here I am, keeping myself in check not to jump on him, and he's busy small-talking about the weather?
"Uhmm, Yes, I guess it is." she replied, "So how do you feel after last night?"
"Mostly tired, I guess.."
Did he even remotely register what happened last night?
"I did have a nice dream about a sandwich today though. Felt oddly full when I woke up."

Ron's behaviour didn't change all day long. He didn't speak one word to Hermione about their kiss or his feelings for her. Hermione had been trying to figure out what had happened. Had he used me to break up with Lavender? Was he still in love with me? Hermione was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. A small bubble of rage had started building up in her head over the hours, and Hermione felt it was just about to pop. She'd stormed up the girls' dormitory at half passed nine, infuriated by Ron's total lack of change.
I can't believe that jerk didn't even want to talk about last night. At last we kiss, and he doesn't even want to discuss it.
She decided to take her make-up off.
"If he doesn't change his ways, why should I?"

Hermione pulled the curtains from her bed open in a furious way. She immediately noticed a small envelope lying on her sheets. For a moment, she thought Lavender might have cursed it and put it there to hurt her, but even Lavender wouldn't stoop that low. She opened it, smelling a light vanilla and teak scent. All the feelings of frustration and anger she'd directed at Ron melted away instantly. Inside the envelope were two pieces of paper, one of them, slightly bigger and folded, was scented. She read the smallest one first. Both sides of it had the same word written on it: "Amortentia".
"So Ron did solve the riddle!"
Hermione read the other parchment. Written on it, in a neat scrawl was the following text:

Dear Hermione,

These last few weeks have been wonderful. I've
spent hours pondering over your riddles. Now it's
time for you to ponder for a while. You've given me
the best gift I've ever had, so in style, I give you:

"Rooted firmly in the ground, I am an unmovable force.
yet I can outrun anyone, even people on a horse.
Up and down, left and right, my movements so cliché.
But when we meet, I guarantee, it'll be touché!"

- Ron

Ron, you devil! You'll keep me up all night!
Hermione quickly closed the curtains of her bed and pulled the sheets over herself. She lit the point of her wand and started to dissect the riddle.
"I'll get to the bottom of this before the end!"