"Put my name down while you’re at it Harry,” Ron requested. Harry was currently adding his name to the list of those staying at Hogwarts over Christmas.
“Add me too please,” Hermione said quietly, not looking up from her lunch. Dumbledore had spoken to them the previous evening and had explained that it would be best if they didn’t return to Grimmauld Place over the holidays. Hermione had been upset, and it was evident to Ron she still was upset about it. Even though the Headmaster had promised to work something out for Hermione’s mother to visit her, it seemed apparent to everyone that the visit was not going to take place over the Christmas holidays. Ron suspected Harry was rather glad to not have to go back to Grimmauld Place. They had to practically drag him kicking and screaming to get him there in the summer. Ron, himself, wasn’t too bothered where they spent Christmas, as long as they were all together. Harry was much easier to be around now that he had calmed down. He had been much less irritable and short tempered since Hermione had received her mother’s letter. As for Hermione, well, Ron didn’t care what sort of mood she was in as long as he was with her.
“There’s only the three of us and Ginny staying from Gryffindor this Christmas,” Harry informed his friends as he sat back down after having returned the list to Professor McGonagall at the staff table.
This news cheered Ron. They had once before had the run of the entire Gryffindor Tower, and it had been a great two weeks. Granted, this Christmas promised to be a fairly subdued one, but at least he might get a chance to talk to Hermione.
Ron’s stomach flipped at the thought of talking to her. Ever since that moment by the lake Ron had been trying to figure out what he was going to say to her. That was the easy part; it was how to say it and not sound like a complete idiot that worried him.
“Right,” Hermione said as she put her cutlery down, stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder, “I’m going to Defence Against the Dark Arts. Are you two coming?”
Ron hastily ate the last few bits of his steak and kidney pie and stood up also. He looked down expectantly at Harry who showed no signs of moving.
“I’ll meet you there. I’m not done yet. Besides, I need to speak to Madame Hooch about booking the Quidditch Pitch before she disappears,” Harry explained, looking towards the top table to check their Quidditch instructor and referee was still there. She was, talking solemnly with Professor Sprout.
Ron nodded at his friend and followed Hermione’s lead out of the great hall towards their next lesson. They walked in silence until they reached the classroom door. Needless to say, they were the first ones to arrive. As they waited in the corridor Ron looked at Hermione. He couldn’t make out her expression.
“Are you okay ‘Mione? You’ve been…” Ron paused, how could he phrase this? “Quiet…today,” he finished lamely. He knew she wasn’t okay. Why would she be? But he had to give her a chance to talk if she wanted to. Besides, he couldn’t stand this awkward silence that had descended on them.
She was silent for a moment, as if pondering her answer. “I will be okay. I’m just a bit,” she paused while she searched for the right words, Ron looking at her concernedly, “disappointed about having to stay here. I had hoped I might get to see Mum at Christmas.”
Ron simply nodded, he had been right. As Ron continued to look into her eyes he saw them begin to glisten. Ron didn’t want to see her cry again. He moved towards her and started to put his arm around her but as he did she pulled away, wiping the single tear away that had leaked down her face. “I’ll be fine,” she told him firmly, “Really I will.”
Ron looked at the floor, confused. Why had she moved away from him? Ron began to wonder if telling Hermione he was madly in love with her really was a good thing to do. He hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he did it. Rejection hadn’t even entered his mind. However, now it had, it petrified him. What if they couldn’t even be around each other for embarrassment?
Ron was saved from these thoroughly depressing thoughts by the bell signalling the start of afternoon lessons, and the arrival of the rest of his next class. As they filed into the classroom Ron began to dwell once more on Hermione’s reaction.
* * *
“Check mate!” Harry announced triumphantly to the Gryffindor common room slightly louder than was necessary. Ron didn’t respond. “Earth to Ron!” his friend said as he waved a hand sarcastically in front of Ron’s face.
“What? Oh yeah. Well done mate,” uttered Ron, who had not been paying any attention to the game whatsoever. This was evident as Harry had never beaten him, or anyone but Neville, at wizard’s chess, and Ron had never lost to anyone but his father. Ron could feel Harry staring at him intently. He knew Harry was going to ask him what was wrong. Ron just didn’t want to talk about it.
Sure enough Harry enquired, “Is something up?”
Yeah, Ron thought, the girl I love can’t stand to be near me and I feel like a complete idiot for ever thinking she could ever love me back, and I’m starving.
That was the only explanation Ron could come up with; that Hermione didn’t have any feelings for him, and didn’t even want to be comforted by him any more. This thought was breaking Ron’s heart. He had really started to consider the possibility that she might like him after what had happened when she had got that letter from her mother. Ron cringed with embarrassment at even having begun to think she might be interested in him. He had missed dinner because he wanted more time alone to think. In Ron’s opinion that alone time was testimony to how seriously he cared for Hermione.
“I’m fine,” he lied, reminded forcefully of Hermione's words earlier that day. The memory of that single tear spilling down her beautiful face made Ron want to scream. He had to get out of the common room. He understood now why Harry wanted to be alone so often. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” Ron muttered as he stood up and headed towards the spiral staircase that led to the boy’s dormitory.
“But, it’s only 8 o’clock…” he heard Harry trail off before turning the first bend and going out of ear shot.
When Ron reached their dormitory it was empty. He slammed the door and threw himself down onto his bed, pounding his fists into the soft feather pillow.
A/N; thanks, once again, go to Shawna for betaing. Thanks also to those who have reviewed; it really is appreciated.