Love Is Complicated

Chapter 5

Hermione marched back into the Weasley's home with tears staining her shirt. The house was deserted. Ginny and Harry must have still been on their walk, George was no where in sight, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had probably retired to bed.

Normally Hermione wasn't one to cry over a petty little breakup, she'd just read and do homework to forget about the situation. But since the school year hadn't started, she only had Harry's party the next day; to keep her distracted from her problems with Ron. So she cried. Hermione had no idea what she was going to do or how she felt about their break up. Sad. Disgruntled. Angry. Maybe even relieved.

Hermione clambered up the many flights of stairs and laid down on her bed in Ginny's room. She rolled onto her stomach and looked out the window; the moon and stars shone much brighter in the countryside where the Burrow sat all lopsided and cozy. The house was quiet all except for the faint scraping noise of Crookshank's tiny paws. Hermione sniffled and searched for something to read. Or really anything with words.

After finding an old children's book on one of Ginny's shelves, she opened to the middle and began to read. Her eyes skimmed the same jumble of letters for minutes, not even reading the words on the page.
A single tear fell from her cheek. It fell in slow motion, inching nearer and nearer to the book. Finally it splattered against the black ink; seeping into the papyrus fibers and creating a little dome. Her vision was blurred with unshed tears.

Hermione closed the book, knowing nothing would distract her wandering mind, when she heard a small knock on the door.

"Yes?" Her voice was weak, even vulnerable, "Who is there?"

"George," the voice mumbled from the other side of the door.

"Oh, come in."

He walked in and smiled at her. Oh boy this could not be good.

"Can I help you . . . ?" She asked casually hiding the tears that had spilled onto her front.

"If you don't mind me asking, you wouldn't happen to know why Ickle Ronnie is sitting outside by himself mumbling rubbish, would you?" he asked.

"Actually yes, I do know the reason," She grumbled looking down at her pillow.

"May I?" he questioned, motioning to Ginny's bed. She shook her head and he closed the door and took a seat beside her.
"So tell me Hermione," he said pretending to act like a Muggle psychiatrist, and crossing his legs; "What's wrong? Did you and my numpty of a brother split up?"

"Why would you think that?" she said defensively.

"I was just assuming the worst, and judging by the way you two are both moping around, I think I am right."

There was a small silence between them until Hermione broke it and said, "Yes, we did."

"Well I'm quite sorry to hear that, we were all hoping you would rub off on him a bit." He was obviously uncomfortable and looked around the room, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"I—I thought he changed. I'm not even completely sure why. I mean I don't think I said or did anything to lose his affection for me," Hermione said sadly.

"Hermione, Ron will never stop caring for you . . . . But, what's done is done. . . Do you want me to prank him? Just to cheer us both up? Light a fire cracker in his bed? Jinx his broomstick? Give him a Puking Pastille?" George perked up and smiled.

"No it's alright, but why do you need cheering up—" Hermione started before Ginny whipped open the door, looking furious.

"What the bloody hell did my twat of a brother do this time!" Ginny demanded from the doorway.