𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒?

Part XII

Quidditch is better. But then, Quidditch is Quidditch, he considered smirking.

It was half past nine and the red-haired man was taking a beer from the fridge, barely noticing the rain that washed the window of the kitchen, when the doorbell rang.  Frowning, Ron opened the door. And when he recognized the soaked trembling figure in his hallway, the red-haired man frowned even deeper.

"Hi, Herm."

Hermione blinked, as waking up from a long dream.

"Ron," she said, her voice tiny and trembling as mirroring her appearance. "Oh, Ron..." Hermione seemed to choke on those simple words and, blindly, she pushed herself in her friend arms.

And while he caressed her hair lightly, he suspected that it wasn't rain that was soaking his t-shirt.  The liquid running down his neck from where Hermione had hidden her face was strangely warm.

Harry paced up and down the living room liked a caged beast.

What does he think he's doing? Does he *hope* to make me worry?

Harry leaned against a window, looking down at the streets, shining in the rain and in the lights of the night. He sighed.  He could have told me he was going out. He *should* have. He can't do what he wants. Things don't work this way. Not with me. But he seems to have forgotten this part. Well, maybe it's time to remind him, Harry thought, his mind darkening under the anger and the worry he would have never admitted.

He narrowed his eyes, his gaze focusing on the rain that was hitting the window violently now.

Come on, Draco. I'm waiting for you.

Hermione was sitting on Ron's bed, wrapped in a blue bathrobe too big for her, with a cup of camomile tea in her hands.

Ron was leaning against the doorframe, worriedly looking down at her. He had just managed to take her inside his flat before she broke down completely, crying as a child and babbling nonsense about faults and lies.

"Herm..."

As he called her, she flinched and raised her gaze on him. Her eyes were red and watery.

Ron felt a sting of pain at the sight of his best friend in that condition. He wanted to hug her again, just as she had let him do before. He wanted to caress her long chocolate hair and whisper in her ear that it was all ok.

But he did nothing and simply continued staring at her until she spoke again.  This time, Hermione seemed to have regained her rational composure.

"I haven't been a good friend, Ron," she began, looking straight in his blue eyes.

"Not to you nor to Harry. Especially not to Harry. I told you lies, believing to be doing the right thing. Flattering myself with being able to know what was the right thing. I've been only stupid and arrogant."

Ron saw her grimacing at the sound of her own words. But before he could say anything to reassure her, Hermione went on.

"Since we went to Harry and Malfoy I've been thinking about it, but I can't find a solution. I began to think that there aren't any solutions at this point. But maybe I'm doing the same mistake again. Maybe I'm being a stupid and arrogant again."