Author's Note: This chapter was rather hard for me to write.

EDIT: Just in case this wasn't clear (no one's really brought it up, but upon rereading, I wasn't sure how clear this would be for anyone who didn't live in my head), the events of this day are occurring a few days after they (Harry, Ron, Hermione and Blaise) left Hogwarts. This doesn't directly follow from the previous chapter.

Chapter 60

I enter the living room from Draco's bedroom and find that Blaise and Harry are already sitting on the couch, each with a book in his lap.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty's up," Harry says.

"Sleeping who?"

"She's a character from a Muggle story," I tell Blaise.

"Oh, figures."

"What time is it?" I ask, turning to look at the clock.

It's half past ten—I suppose it is a bit later than I usually get up. But I'd just been having the sweetest dream, and I didn't want it to end. It may have had a bit to do with a certain grey-eyed blond.

"Naree says there's not much else on Dark magic in the Manor library," Harry says.

I frown. "I highly doubt that," I say as I take a seat between them on the couch. "The Manor has to have more than the references he's given us so far. I'll ask him myself. Technically, he's allowed to lie to you two, because Malfoy only told him to take orders from me."

"Good point," Harry says.

I snatch my book from the coffee table and lean back to keep reading from the place that I'd stopped at last night. Horcruxes were mentioned several times already in this book, but there was nothing that we didn't already know. The chapter that I'm currently reading is describing Inferi. Gruesome creatures, they are. I can't believe that anyone would actually want to create them.

Then the door to the kitchen opens, and Ron emerges with a cup of tea. I return my attention to the page, but then Blaise elbows me, and I look up to see that Ron's standing right across the coffee table from me.

"I made you a cup of tea, Hermione," he says.

I stare at him for a moment. How am I supposed to—where is this coming from?

"Thanks, Ron," I say, smiling awkwardly as I lean forward to take the cup from him.

His cheeks flush, and I suddenly want to laugh.

"Where's my cup of tea, Ron?" Harry asks from beside me.

That does it for me, and apparently Blaise as well—we burst into laughter simultaneously, and Ron's face turns even redder. I quickly set the cup down on the coffee table so that it won't spill onto the book and attempt to control my laughter.

"Yes, how could you only make one cup of tea when you knew there were three of us out here?" Blaise adds, smiling innocently, his mirth under control for the moment.

Ron grumbles something that I can't make out before sitting down in his red armchair.

Blaise looks at the cup that I just put down. "Well, if you're not going to drink it, mind if I have a sip?"

"I made it for Hermione," Ron blurts before I can reply.

"Oh Ron, don't be ridiculous. It's just a cup of tea," I say.

Harry laughs. "Better not drink it, Blaise. I think this is supposed to be a meaningful gesture, the first time Ron's made something for someone else—you'll just ruin it."

Ron opens up a large volume and hides his face behind it. "Shove it, Harry," he says.

Blaise grins. "It's all right. I'm perfectly capable of getting myself a cup of tea. Don't need any favors from a besotted weasel. Besides, knowing our history, if he brought me something, he'd probably be trying to poison me."

I glance at Ron, but his face is still hidden, and I'm sure that he's pretending to be deaf.

"Want any, Harry?" Blaise asks, getting to his feet and heading toward the kitchen.

Harry shakes his head. "Nope, I'm all right."

"You sure? I won't poison you, I promise."

"Just go get your drink," Harry says, waving his hand dismissively.

The kitchen door swings shut behind Blaise, and I turn my attention back to the book.

A few minutes later, I frown. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Did Malfoy stop by?"

He turns to look at me curiously. "When? You've been here this whole time, haven't you?"

"Before I woke up this morning, I meant."

"No, he was never here."

"Odd. I could have sworn…" my voice fades away before I can finish the thought—I'm not about to admit to Harry that I just imagined Draco's scent.

Do I really miss him that much? This can't be a good sign. Maybe his scent is on one of the books that Naree brought by for Harry and Blaise this morning…

"You could have sworn…?" Harry asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," I mutter, shaking my head.

I lean forward to pick up the tea and take a sip, studiously avoiding Harry's eyes. When I put the cup back on the table, he's still staring at me, but I just look back down at my book. If I keep ignoring him, maybe he'll just give up.

"Hermione?" he prods almost a full minute later.

"It's nothing," I repeat, shaking my head.

Then Blaise emerges from the kitchen with a giant mug of something foul-smelling.

"What is that?" Harry asks, pinching his nose as Blaise settles on the couch beside me.

"Be grateful you're not sitting right next to him," I say, leaning away.

Blaise laughs. "This is supposed to help us stay focused and alert."

"It's morning, Blaise. We're awake and alert already," Harry says.

"And I am not drinking that," I add.

"It's not for drinking. The smell is what's important," he says. "I thought you'd know what this was the second you smelled it, Hermione."

I frown, wrinkling my nose. "Gurdyroots?"

His grin widens.

"That is disgusting," Harry says, getting to his feet. "Aw hell, I'm reading in the room."

I laugh as he hurries out of the room and slams the door shut.

"I should throw a gurdyroot in there just to piss him off," Blaise says. "What do you think?"

"Oh, leave him alone," I say. "That smell really is awful."

He laughs. "Oh come on, it's just something you get used to," he says. Looking up at Ron, he adds, "See, Weasley doesn't mind it so much. Your mum probably made this to make you focus when you were at home, didn't she?"

Ron peers over his book and glowers at Blaise. "I'd rather not think about that. She made us drink that foul… concoction."

Blaise laughs at this.

God, I can't stand the smell. It's like I'm sitting in the middle of an industrial compost heap! I put down my book and down the cup of tea, scalding my tongue in the process.

"I'll go get myself some more tea," I say, getting to my feet quickly.

I hear Blaise laughing as I close the door to the kitchen. It's a miracle that this room doesn't smell worse, knowing what Blaise was just making in here. But it seems he cleaned everything up and cast a charm to rid the kitchen of the smell.

I let out a sigh of relief and get a glass of water to sooth my burned tongue.

Then the kitchen door opens, and I turn to see Ron entering. His eyes have never looked so bright before. Strange… I can't seem to look away.

I smile at him. "Hi."

He doesn't reply, only starts walking toward me. For some inexplicable reason, I begin to feel nervous, and I want to leave the room. I put the glass of water down and walk toward the door.

As I pass by him, he grabs my arm, and I pause. He pulls on my arm gently, turning me to face him. His hands run up my arms, and my eyes flit up to meet his. They're a brilliant shade of sapphire blue, sparkling at me.

"I love you, Hermione," he murmurs.

I smile.

He leans down and presses his lips to mine.

I stiffen, surprised. But once the initial shock passes through me, I feel a strange sense of satisfaction. His arms wrap around me to pull me closer, and I don't resist.

Then the kitchen door swings open.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop that right now."

Ron steps back, and I glance to the side to see Blaise standing in the doorway. The surprised look on his face quickly fades to concern as he meets my eyes. Then I look back at Ron. What just happened?

"What do you want, Zabini?" Ron says.

Blaise's eyes narrow. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Weasley?"

"What can you have to say to me that you can't say in front of Hermione?" Ron responds.

I look over at Blaise to see what he'll say to that, but he only watches me with an inscrutable expression. What's wrong with him? Then, without another word, he leaves the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

I frown. "Ron… maybe you should figure out what he was going to tell you," I say. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

He smiles at me. "I don't care what he wants to say, as long as I have you here," he says.

For some reason, this statement makes me feel extremely happy, and whatever it was that I was just worrying about suddenly doesn't seem so important anymore.

Ron's happy because of me.

Wait, why… why am I reacting this way? I think back—I didn't like Ron. I never thought his eyes were brilliant blue, did I? They always looked rather large and… dull… didn't they?

But when I look back up into his eyes, I only see a beautiful, deep shade of blue, blue like the ocean. I was so wrong before.

He leans down to kiss me again, and I lift my arms to put them around his neck.

"I've missed this, you know," Ron says, sitting down on the couch.

I take a seat beside him. "Missed what?"

"Just sitting down, alone, with you," he replies.

"Me, too," I say.

Then I frown. Did I really? I suppose so… I look at the door to the boys' room—Harry and Blaise went in right after dinner, saying that they wanted to read in the room. I wonder if it was because they're uncomfortable because of Ron and me…

Thankfully, the horrible smell of gurdyroot is gone. I wonder what Blaise did with that mixture from this morning.

Then Ron's speaking again. "I thought so much about what it would be like to kiss you again, to hold you in my arms again…"

I smile. "Did it live up to your expectations?"

"Hermione, you really have no clue how much I love you," he says. "It was so much better than I thought it would be, so much better than I remembered."

"Or maybe I just learned how to kiss," I say.

Ron frowns, and I'm suddenly overwhelmed by a surge of regret and the need to say—

"I'm sorry."

The words tumble out of my mouth without my permission, but I do feel sorry.

He looks perplexed. "Sorry? About what?"

"I… don't know," I say.

The guilty feeling seems to have vanished as quickly as it came. Is there something wrong with me?

But what could possibly be wrong with me? I'm fine.

I meet Ron's eyes again and seem to get sucked in. Ron looks pleased by the attention I'm giving him, so I continue to look at him. He lifts a hand to touch my cheek.

Before his fingers come into contact with my face, the fireplace sparks into life, and I turn to see Ginny's head floating in the flames.

"Hey Ron, Hermione," she says, frowning. "Where are Harry and Zabini?"

"The other room," Ron says. "I'll get them."

He gets to his feet and walks toward the door to the boys' room.

I chance a glance at Ginny and see that she's looking at me with an odd expression. What's wrong with her? I consider asking her, but I feel that it'd be a better idea to save this for a time when it's just the two of us—I know that look on her face, and it can't mean anything good.

"Ginny, hey," I hear Harry say.

He steps over to the fireplace and extends his hand into the flames to grasp hers.

"I miss you," he says softly.

"I miss you, too," Ginny replies.

"Yes, this is all very touching," Blaise says coolly. "What's this visit about?"

"Oh, I really only need Ron," Ginny says as Harry pulls his hand back out of the fireplace and backs up to stand by Blaise. "Mum asked me to check and make sure you lot were all still alive."

"What do they need me for?" Ron asks.

"Some interrogations, I think," Ginny replies. "Anyway, just come on, Ron."

I feel some disappointment that Ron's going to be leaving.

"Can I have a second alone with Hermione, first?" Ron says, pulling me to my feet and leading me to the boys' room.

Once inside, he shuts the door and casts the Muffling Charm.

"I think Harry and Blaise don't want us to be together," he mutters urgently.

"Why wouldn't—"

"Just don't listen to them, all right? They want to drive us apart."

I blink a few times, trying to comprehend his train of thought. "But Ron, we broke up."

Suddenly he leans forward and kisses me roughly, pulling me into his arms. Again, I feel that strange sense of satisfaction, like there's nothing else that can bring me peace.

"Don't you want to be together again?" he whispers against my lips.

"Yes," I whisper without thinking.

"Then we can get back together."

Craving that sensation again, I give him another quick kiss.

"I really have to go. But just… don't listen to them, Hermione. I'll be back soon—I promise."

With that, we exit the room. Harry and Ginny are exchanging goodbyes, holding hands again. Blaise takes a few steps toward us.

"Well, see you, Weasley," he says. "Can't say that I'll miss you."

"Likewise, Zabini," Ron replies. "Bye, Harry, Hermione."

Then he steps into the flames, and a strong sense of abandonment washes over me. What is wrong with me?

Ginny's face reappears in the flames. "Bye!" she calls out to us.

"Bye," Harry says.

Distracted by this strange, desolate feeling in my chest, I move over to the couch and take a seat, picking my book up robotically.

"Harry, do you want me to grab your book?" Blaise offers. "I'm about to go get mine out of the room."

"Sure," Harry replies, taking Ron's armchair.

I keep my eyes on the pages of my book, but I can't stop thinking about the fact that Ron's gone, and I don't know when he'll be back. And I think Harry's staring at me.

When I glance up from the book, he quickly averts his eyes.

Yes, he was staring.

I frown at the words on the page. What if Ron's right? What if Harry and Blaise really are plotting against us?

Blaise reemerges from their room with two books in his hands and tosses Harry's book at him. Harry quickly flicks his wand and uses a Hover Charm to keep the giant volume levitating in the air.

"Oi! You could've bashed my head in!" he exclaims.

"You wouldn't be a very good wizard then, would you?" Blaise replies with a grin, sitting beside me.

When he glances in my direction, I notice that there's something different about the way he's looking at me. He seems to be wary, guarded. His eyes aren't as playful as they usually are.

That's it. Ron's right.

Oh, god. This can't be good. I don't even know when Ron will be back to help me. Maybe I should…

Draco. Right, Draco! He cares about me. If I need his help, I'm sure he'll help me. He's been so reliable in the past even when I didn't ask for his help. Of course.

I get to my feet. "I'm actually developing a bit of a headache, so I think I'll just turn in early," I say.

"But you got slept in today, Hermione. Are you all right?" Blaise asks.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just have a bit of a headache. I'm sure a good night's sleep will fix it," I reply as I head over to Draco's room.

I close the door behind me and move to sit down on the bed. I point my wand at the door and lock it before fisting my hand around the charm—I don't want Harry or Blaise to know that I'm going to Draco for help.

A few minutes later, there's still no response from the charm, and I'm starting to worry. What if he can't come? What'll I do about Harry and Blaise?

The response doesn't come until almost an hour later, and it's only one word: Tomorrow.

Author's Note: Eek. I'm slightly scared to read your reviews. But keep them coming!

I'll try to post again soon. I've hit a bit of writer's block with the scene that I'm working on, and it doesn't help that I don't have much time to just sit down and write. School starts on Thursday… ew.