Hermione sat up and crept out of bed, but there was no sign of Harry in the tent. She called out, “Harry? Are you there?” but she received no response. She was reminded significantly of Ron’s abrupt departure. Sinking into the armchair in the den room, she struggled to keep her tears in.
He just tried to kiss me. He DID kiss me, and I let him, she thought miserably. I can’t believe I did that, especially when I’m dating Ron. She shook her head, as if it was too crammed with thoughts and memories.
Yea, but he left. He’s gone, out of the way. He CHOSE to leave.
Ron and Harry are, well were, best friends. You prefer Ron, and he never broke up with you, just didn’t want to be here.
With you.
He didn’t want to be with me, she deduced, stopping the dueling consciences in her head. She now understood why people used Pensieves. It was true, she wanted to be with Ron, but she didn’t have that choice now. In fact, the only person she did see, and would probably only see for a long time, felt attraction to her, and why should she give that up for an old love?
Hermione stood up abruptly, as if with sudden determination, only to sit back down, knowing that she shouldn’t go find him. I don’t even know what I want.
Ron left. If you thought that he’s going to sit around and wait for you, you’re sorely mistaken. He’s probably back at home, snogging some other girl, not thinking of you.
You and Ron had something special, more than just a friendship, more than just a fling. You had a strong relationship. He told you that he loved you, and he didn’t say it to get anything from you. He really does love you, and he probably still does.
HE HASN’T TRIED TO FIND OUT IF YOU’RE OKAY! If he still cared about you, he would want to make sure you’re alive and well. He hasn’t attempted to make contact with you yet, and you doubt he will. Face it, he’s over you.
Ron left because of his anger, not because he stopped loving you. And he wouldn’t be able to find out where you are. You change bloody locations every few days, and you made it so you can’t be found. He even knows that.
Her head was spinning faster than a provoked Sneakoscope. She had no idea of what to do, or what she wanted to do. She just snogged her (ex?) boyfriend’s best mate. Well, he technically kissed me, she remembered. I didn’t initiate it, but I didn’t stop it, she admitted. Truthfully, she had been waiting to kiss Harry since they grasped hands after Ron left and if he didn’t kiss her, she would have.
Right?
Yes.
Slutty?
A little…
Hermione’s stomach turned over when she heard noise outside, it was only an owl hooting and she remembered Hedwig, and Professor Moody, who had both died for Harry.
If I tried anything with him, I would mess with his head, and he wouldn’t be as motivated to get the Horcruxes.
Not that he is anyway…
…Maybe it would make him see that he had something worth fighting for.
But he liked Ginny, he’s been staring at her name on the Marauder’s map most nights. And he did go out with her, and they both liked each other a lot.
They broke up because he didn’t want to endanger her. And here you are, already in danger, perfect for each other. He is Voldemort’s biggest threat, and you’re a ‘mud blood,’ both outcasts of the Wizarding World. You should at least give him a chance.
That last thought rang in her head. The confused teenager grabbed the locket around her neck, a birthday present from Ron. He had bought it in early September when he took a trip to a nearby Muggle town to get food. And although it couldn’t be opened, Ron had explained that one day, it would open, at the right time. However, he would not explain the spell that he had put on it. Still, she always wore it, because it symbolized his love for her, and he stressed the importance that it stays around her neck, “because I will never stop loving you, Hermione,” he had told her.
She got up and shook the memory from her head. She let the necklace drop back around her neck and it made a soft clunk against Slytherin’s locket. Hermione tiptoed back into the bedroom, threw Harry’s blanket back onto his top bunk, and fell down onto her own mattress. She lay there for an hour, contemplating what to do. Finally, she decided what her heart wanted. What Ron would want, she thought as a tear slid onto the pillow.
A few hours later, Hermione heard Harry stumble back into the tent and shuffle into the bedroom. I’ll talk to him when he’s ready to talk about it, she decided as she drifted into a very comfortable sleep, knowing that she would soon settle the bubbling guilt she’d been feeling in the pit of her stomach.