Hermione could have sworn that months had passed between falling asleep and waking up. She had a pounding headache and a heaviness in her chest. All her unspoken hope of developing a future with Jasper had been replaced with...reality. Reality is the worst sort of bugger since it is unchanged by magic. Harry's parents died. Voldemort had once existed. There wasn't anything Harry, Ron, or Hermione could do to change those things back then.

The only magic that happens is one's' ability to accept their situation. Accept, and respond.

Yet the blasted bed refused to acknowledge Hermione's desperate attempt at responding and keeping things proper. Charm after repellent charm failed her.

As the days passed it hurt more to wake up together. Every day Hermione felt more distant as the bed closed in on them. The distance made her arms and legs ache. They were the same arms and legs that warmly grazed Jaspers as they woke up every morning.

Yes it hurt. But Hermione couldn't justify her pain. Jasper Whitlock is Jasper HALE. He lives in the States and is committed to a life there..committed to a girl there. He's set to leave Hogwarts as soon as he can. The only thing that bound them together was the crescent scar on her ankle. It was a scar that was caused because of who he is. He is a cold one. That's that.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before standing up. Jasper waited for her to speak first. What came out was a hasty apology for "enorgio"-ing things that must not be engorged. They both blushed as they anchored the conversation to the most trivial thing.

"I'm sorry about my charms and about.." Hermione weakly repeated herself. They both knew she was silently saying sorry for all the things she couldn't change. The bed, their awkward situation, and her feelings were all things magic couldn't alter. The apology that came out was strained because it was both sincere and completely frustrated. She looked at Jasper, who sat with his shoulders slumped. He looked as if the very same pain was permeating through his bones too. Silence filled the room as her apology hung in the air. Jaspers jaw tightened and his deep voice released a sigh.

He nodded once and focused his eyes at the blue lamp by their nightstand. Where else could he look? After a few uneven breaths they both opened up to speak at the same time.

"Hermione I.."

"Perhaps we.."

But there was nothing "easy" left to say. Jasper decided to stop mid-sentence while Hermione couldn't find the words to finish her own. Just then Jasper pried his eyes off the lamp and willed himself to meet Hermione's chocolate brown eyes. He had a solution to their dilemma, and yet the looming truth was hard to acknowledge.

Jasper spoke slowly. The twang in his voice became more evident whenever he took his time to speak.

"There's this saying. It's a sayin' we say, back in America." He fumbled. "It's kind of an insult. But if ya think about it it.. It's called this: 'you made your bed, now lie in it'" he finished quite simply.

You made your bed, now lie in it. Hermione mulled over the words. What did that mean?

They didn't look at each other for the rest of the morning. Jasper swiftly got ready for another day of class. He silently threw on his black shirt and a dark purple professorial cloak. He exited their dormitory like a ghost.

Hermione let out a breath and shut her eyes as the door quietly closed. Like clockwork, she arranged her lessons, charmed her three-inch bag that was filled with a library, and walked toward her own transfiguration class. It was easier to stick to routine for now. The sunny day wore on as a blur of students entered and exited her classroom. Their laughs and faces were distant from Hermione's thoughts. It was lunch time before she realized that she was at Hogwarts at all. The Great Hall was the last place she wanted to be.

Jasper stuffed his face with food in the Great Hall but it wasn't as good as it used to be. Being human wasn't fun at all anymore. Pain and heartache... and decisions. These were things foreign to a cold one. Apparently such things could turn the simple pleasures in life to stone. Who cared if the cauldron cakes were ever so soft?

Hermione didn't come to lunch, and he understood why. You made your bed, now lie in it. The bed was made, and they chose to lie in it every day. That was the truth. The shrinking bed would shrink as it usually does. But it was Hermione and Jasper that repeatedly chose to lie in it.

As frustrating as it was to admit, they had the choice to not get into bed at all.

The choice was simple. But it was a hard decision to make. Night time was approaching. Routine was drawing them back to their shared room.

Decisions, decisions.