Chapter Ten - I Like You

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This chapter will be more in Hermione's perspective but incorporate Harry's thoughts as well, like third person omniscient kind of but also not really 😂

"I'm sorry, Ron."

The words had left Hermione's mouth like a melancholy song, slow and somber, but her natural voice added a sense of surreal sincerity. Her small body was seated on the white, scratchy fabric of Ron's mattress, her hands sweaty, but tightly clasped together. Ron's forehead was tightly coiled in a thin cloth, and the color had been slightly drained of his typical exterior. For only a simple moment, Lavender had gotten up from his bed to allow Hermione a few moments with him, while Harry observed, but the silence that followed her apology was dreadful.

Ron had been awake for several hours now, but only said a few words, such as "stop kissing," to Lavender and "more juice" to either Harry or Madame Pomfrey. Hermione looked down onto her dainty thumbs awaiting a response, but eventually, the hiatus of noise overcame everyone with unspoken discomfort. Her eyes raised to Harry's, and he ushered his head to the door. Exchanging a last look to Ron, whose glance has been purposefully ignoring hers, she stood up and brushed her robes.

In her mind, she wanted to tell Ron that this was his last chance to make things right, she was extending a graceful arm to him, and it was up to him whether or not if she could walk out of that room one step happier than she walked in. However as she was well aware, her fantasies almost never had the outcome she hoped or expected. Without turning to look at Ron again, she met with Harry, shoulder's brushing lightly, and started for the door with him. She could hear Lavender's giggles take over the entire hospital wing and hauntingly echo as Hermione shut the door.

     Harry continued to walk, but Hermione stayed at the closed entrance of the wing, her back pressed firmly against door. Harry quickly noticed he absence of warmth next to him and turned around. Hermione was looking up at the ceiling, her eyes not far from glistening with tears.

     "What happened to us?" Hermione said calmly. "Why did things have to end up this way?"

     Harry did not have an answer. He ceased to reply to Hermione's urging question. His eyes averted her's plainly for a moment, until he felt the pressure of the rhetorical question drift off into the atmosphere. "Do you want to go to the common room?"

     Hermione's eyes widened. "Are you sure you'd like to be seen with me, after the incident at the Burrow? People may think that we are plotting our next attack." Harry had no choice but to break out in laughter, not long before Hermione followed suit. For about thirty seconds, the empty corridor was lit up the the happiness of two people, but quickly darkened again by the constant hardship attempting to penetrate the premises as the laughter died down.

     "Come on," Harry said. Hermione was a bit hesitant at first, as she felt she was leaving something behind, which she was. There was no telling if Ron would ever stop being an idiot and try to regain his trust, but there was no way Hermione would be caught waiting around for him again. Not again. She sent Harry a half smile and took her place next to him, seemingly where she belonged. There was a sense of friction as their shoulder's brushed. Hermione blushed slightly and took a step to the side. Little did she know that Harry did the same thing.


     The Gryffindor common room was extremely warm. As the weather outside had finally reached it's peak of cold following holiday break, it was just beginning to get warmer and warmer within Hogwarts. The fireplace was still on and blazing hot flames into the atmosphere, as it didn't usually retire until the beginning of spring. Hermione was seated upon the red couch in front of the fireplace, her feet propped up on the cushion in front of her. Harry was seated upon the floor, his back against the couch and his legs straightened on the floor. It was nearly time for supper, but silently, neither Harry or Hermione wanted to get up. Their presence was fulfilling enough.

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