Ron awoke abruptly next morning to the sound of someone moving noisily around the dormitory. He let out a huge yawn as he sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, trying to focus his vision. Ron had got to bed very late last night. He had waited ages to wake Hermione up, reluctant to lose the feeling of her weight curled up against him.
He looked across the room to see Harry angrily going through his trunk, throwing things violently out onto the floor. Ron glanced around. It must have been late as Seamus, Dean and Neville were nowhere to be seen. Or perhaps they had made a quick exit when they saw what kind of a mood Harry was in. That looked like a very enticing option to Ron as he sat and watched incredulously as his best friend ignored his gaze and continued his search.
“What in the name of Merlin is wrong with you this morning?” Ron enquired, still gaping at him. At this question Harry looked up at Ron and stopped his rummaging, glaring at him. Ron looked at the floor, not wanting to enrage Harry further. Tact was not Ron’s strong point.
“Hermione is what is wrong this morning!” Harry fumed, his cheeks tinged with red. Ron didn’t answer, he simply continued to stare at the floor. “How dare she tell me to grow up? She has no idea! She’s just off in her own little world, she doesn’t have a clue about real problems!” Harry trailed off, muttering furiously to himself, and began to root through his trunk once again. Ron was starting to wonder what he was looking for.
Ron was at a loss for words. Harry obviously didn’t know about Hermione’s father yet, and Ron didn’t want to be the one to tell him. Ron looked up to find Harry’s brilliant green eyes fixed on him.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to support her!” Harry said in a voice of deadly calm, still looking pointedly at him.
Ron sighed once more. It looked as if he didn’t have much of a choice. He couldn’t let them become divided, they all had to support each other now.
“Listen mate. I know you’re going through a rough time what with Sirius and everything…” Ron trailed off as Harry looked daggers at him, as he always did if they mentioned his late godfather. “The point is,” Ron continued, “she knows exactly how you’re hurting.” Harry’s gaze softened slightly, taking on an enquiring look. “Her mum wrote to her last night. Her dad’s been killed by…by You-Know-Who.”
The colour drained from Harry’s face as he flopped backwards onto his bed and groaned.
After about five minutes of silence Ron stood up and dressed hastily. “I’d better go find her,” he said glancing at Harry before walking to the door. “You didn’t know Harry, she’ll forgive you,” He added softly, looking down at his best friend who was now staring fixedly at the ceiling. Ron could see his face shining with tears.
Ron quickly made his way down to the common room, hoping Hermione would be there or maybe someone who had seen her recently. He glanced around the scarlet and gold room but she wasn’t there. Ignoring the rumbles from his empty stomach Ron climbed awkwardly out of the portrait hole, cursing his father for being so tall as he went, and wondered where would be a good place to begin his search.
“Ron!” he looked around at the shout of his name to see his baby sister Ginny coming towards him looking grave. “Have you seen Harry?” she asked slightly breathlessly, as if she had been running.
“Dormitory.” He replied simply, pointing to the portrait hole, before slowly walking off, not catching his sister’s eye. He didn’t want to let Ginny know how angry he really was about Harry’s insensitivity to Hermione. He knew Harry was depressed but there was no need to lash out at himself and Hermione. Neither did he want Harry to know how he really felt about their argument. That would only serve to incense him more and to be completely fair to his friend, he hadn’t known about Hermione’s father, and certainly wouldn’t have said anything had he known.
“She ran outside Ron. She usually goes to the lake.” Ron was surprised to find Ginny being so forthcoming, especially after he had just been so cold. He smiled gratefully at his sister and she smiled slightly in reply before reciting the password and disappearing, presumably to talk to Harry. At least that might cheer him up, Ron thought hopefully. It had been obvious to everyone over the past summer that Ginny’s feelings for Harry were beginning to return.
On Ginny’s advice, Ron began to descend the many flights of stairs and went out of the front doors upon reaching the entrance hall.
As he stepped out of the doors the cold hit him forcefully. With all the blazing fireplaces and woolen robes Ron hadn’t realised how cold it had gotten. The wind whipped his hair about his face and burned his eyes, making it difficult to see as they began to water.
As Ron neared the lake he saw Hermione sitting at the edge. She was staring out across its stormy surface, hugging her legs tightly to her chest with her Gryffindor scarf pulled up to just above her nose. Her hair was blowing wildly around her face, but she didn’t seem to notice. Needless to say, she didn’t notice Ron approach.
As he moved closer Ron could see that she was shivering violently, but she wasn’t crying, something for which he was relieved. He walked up silently behind her and removed his cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders.
As he put the cloak on her she jumped, obviously startled out of her reverie. She gave him a quizzical look as he sat down beside her, not saying a word.
“He doesn’t mean any of it you know.” Ron told Hermione, looking deep into her chocolate brown eyes. “It’s the anger talking, not Harry.”
Hermione held his gaze as she lowered her scarf and whispered “I know.” They then both looked away, out across the grey, violent waves on the lake.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Ron saw Hermione shudder. He looked at her face to see her lips and nose were bright red from the bitter cold. He tapped her gently on the shoulder and stood up. He looked down at her and offered her his hand, which she gratefully accepted.
As he helped her up, Ron couldn’t help but notice how beautiful and innocent she looked when she was in one of her frequent pensive moments. He could just blurt it all out now; how he loved her more than life itself, how he would sacrifice everything just to see her smile.
Ron mentally shook himself. Now wasn’t the time and he knew it. Hermione was worried about Harry and her mother and was probably catching pneumonia as he watched her.
Ron wrapped his arms around Hermione, trying to warm her up and they began to walk slowly back up to the castle. He didn’t notice how she shivered slightly when he took her hand or put his arms around her, or how she was looking at his face now, smiling slightly to herself.
A/N; thanks again to Shawna for beta reading.