AN: Curiosity killed the cat was only supposed to be a challenge fic for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, for the testing of the product Super-sticky Laughing Stickers, with the guidelines that the main character must see some sort of secret, must feel an overwhelming emotion other than laughter or happiness and that it must be 2000 words long. The more I wrote it, though, the more I found myself wanting to continue it. I'm still playing with the idea of continuing it and am not quite sure that I should, but if you want me to continue please tell me, as I really want to. Review, please, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, I'm just playing around with them!

Edit: This was recently betaed, so if this looks a little different than before, that's why. Also a big thanks to Littleoldmeeee for betaing this!:)

Hermione knew that this was wrong. She knew that she shouldn't be following Ron, her boyfriend, out of the common room at two in the morning, but she just couldn't help herself.

When he had come sneaking down the staircase a few minutes ago, he had looked as if he were up to something, and if there was one thing that hadn't changed with Hermione over the years, it was her curiosity. She lowered the book she had been reading, watching him curiously.

It was curiosity that told her to keep silent and still in her chair before the fire.

It was curiosity that told her to go after Ron when she saw him sneaking out of the common room.

She was lucky that he seemed so preoccupied with wherever he was sneaking off to, as she was not the most light-footed person.

After about ten minutes of walking after her boyfriend, Hermione noticed that they were following the corridor leading to the kitchen, and she sighed, wishing she hadn't wasted her time in coming after him and planning to go back as soon as she saw him go into the kitchen.

Except he didn't.

He continued on past the portrait of the fruit basket and kept on walking until he came to an abandoned classroom a few passages on.

Her curiosity and suspicion now fully aroused yet again, Hermione endeavoured to make her tread even softer as Ron slipped into the classroom.

Stealthily, Hermione placed her foot in the way of the door just as it was about to swing shut, and peered into the room.

Though she had suspected something bad, she had no idea of just how bad it would be.

Ron was pressing a girl up against one of the desks, doing things that Ron had claimed he wasn't ready to do, no matter how much Hermione asked him to go further.

As she watched them, a feeling swept through her - it was so strong she felt paralysed. Heart-stopping, gut-clenching, throat-clogging betrayal swept through her, finally coming to rest in her chest, where it was swiftly joined by such an all-encompassing feeling of bitter anger, so intense, it almost swallowed the feeling of betrayal whole. Almost, but not quite.

Hermione was fairly sure she had let out a horrified gasp when she first saw them, but so absorbed were they in their illicit activities, that they didn't notice the faint sound.

Fuming, anger barely suppressing for the moment the tears she was sure would come later, she whispered a hex, and watched with malicious glee, as Ron jumped back with a cry, as his lips and the girl's turned into wriggling slugs stuck on their faces.

A horrified look on his face, his hands raised to his mouth, Ron looked around, and spotted Hermione. His eyes widened comically, and his face instantly turned bright red.

As he stepped away from the girl, Hermione recognized the rumpled hair and flushed, dismayed face of Padma Patil, Parvati's sister in Ravenclaw. Sneering at her, her angry side now completely taking over, she turned to Ron, who was desperately trying to say something through his wriggling lips - "wher….Mione…..whar ape you fooing?"

Rolling her eyes at his wrangled speech, and at the fact that his first words were not an apology, but a demand as to what she was doing, she glared at him:

"Well, Ronald," she spat. "I'm just saving you from what you told me you weren't ready to do, remember? As far as I recall, you claimed that you didn't feel ready touch me, as it made you too nervous, so I wouldn't want you to be more nervous than necessary," she finished angrily, almost screaming, not caring that Filch might hear them, pointing at the half-naked Padma, who was desperately trying to wriggle into her school shirt.

Finally seeming to realise the predicament he was in, Ron's face turned white and he mumbled, "I'p po sowwee Whemione…"

His voice trailed off, as he searched for something to say that wouldn't leave him looking like a complete prat.

Seeing him struggling, Hermione rolled her eyes and said bitterly, "Don't bother. We're over."

Although it hurt her to admit it, she could have sworn she saw a second of relief on his face at being released from her, as she swung around and made her way back to the common room. Relief - until he realised he still had no idea how to get the slugs to turn back into lips, and he started calling after her in panic.

Hermione ignored him. Now that her anger had worked itself out, it was quickly reverting back into the hurt and betrayal she had felt before the bitter fury had made its appearance.

Although she struggled hard to contain her tears, she couldn't help that the few that slipped out before she reached the common room.

When she finally saw the portrait of the Fat Lady, she heaved a sigh of relief and, whispering the password, paying no heed to the Fat Lady's grumblings at being awoken, she slipped into the common room, intent only on getting up to her dormitory, crawling into her bed, placing silencing charms around her bed and crying her heart out.

So focused was she on not letting the majority of her grief out before she reached her bed, that she didn't notice the dark figure sitting on one the chairs in front of the fire.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" the hesitant voice of Neville Longbottom, made her freeze with surprise.

Turning around slowly, she saw him unfolding his tall frame from the exact chair she had been sitting in earlier when she decided to follow Ron and saw-

With a muffled cry, she flung herself against him, arms blindly clutching around him for comfort.

Though he floundered a bit as she barrelled into him, he regained his composure and hesitantly put his arms around her back. When she gripped him even tighter and he felt the tell-tale wetness of tears trough his sweater, he started to soothingly rub her back, and carefully lowered them into the chair he had just vacated, settling Hermione on his lap.

Hermione had no idea how long she sat on Neville's lap, his hand rubbing soothing circles into her back, whilst she ruined his sweater with her tears, muffling her cries against his shoulder.

When the tears and grief finally started relenting, she realised that Neville had begun stroking her head as well as rubbing her back, and that he was cooing nonsense into her ears whilst rocking her back and forth.

She was unable to stop the watery smile that spread across her face at his actions, and she lifted her head from his shoulder, painfully aware now that she had rubbed her snot into his shoulder too, and that she had no handkerchief.

Seeing her predicament, Neville pulled out a handkerchief from his trouser pocket, and offered it to her, looking at her with concern.

Taking it gratefully, she blew her nose and wiped it, before stuffing it into her dressing gown pocket, intending to wash it before she sent it back to him.

As he shifted her around on his lap, she realised that the position she was in, wasn't exactly proper, as she was half reclining against his chest, and she knew that she wasn't the lightest of girls.

Apologising, her face flushing brilliantly, she climbed out of his lap.

Waving her apology away, he too stood up, towering above her, and asked softly, "want to tell me what this is all about?"

She considered telling him that he would find out in the morning, but then again, he had held her while she cried, so she thought he deserved a bit more than that. Feeling wrung out and fragile, she knew she had no more tears left right now so she nodded and opened her mouth to say what had happened. Suddenly, the common room door burst open and Ron came tumbling in, looking wildly around him for Hermione, who instinctively shifted closer to Neville. He, upon seeing her backing away from Ron, moved to stand half in front of her.

Ron, barely noticing Neville's protective stance, opened his mouth as soon as he saw Hermione and said, "that was a mean trick, Hermione, slugs for lips! If Padma hadn't known that spell and been able to do non-verbal spells, we would have had to go to Madame Pomfrey!"

Wiping his mouth, as though he could still feel the slugs wriggling around on his lips, he continued, oblivious to Hermione's face regaining its angry flush, and Neville suddenly catching on to the situation, "I'm sorry you had to find out this way Hermione, but did you honestly think that a bloke would be happy with someone like you? You hardly ever come out of your books, and the only thing you ever talk about is your books. Any bloke would be put off by that. And don't let me get started on your looks! You-"

That was as far as he got, for Neville had punched him squarely in the face, causing him to collapse to the floor with the force of the blow, leaving Neville grimacing and clutching his hand, but looking down on Ron in satisfaction.

Hermione, who had grown steadily paler at Ron's words, pushed down the fresh hurt, and rushed over to Neville to inspect his hand.

Seeing his hand already had a little bruising, she told him to wait for her, and hurried up to her dormitory, with barely a glance in Ron's direction, where he was groaning on the floor, clutching his nose.

In the dormitory, she opened her trunk and looked for the Dittany, ignoring the grumbles of the other girls in her dorm to be quiet.

Rushing back down to the common room, she glanced over to where Ron had been lying, only to find no sign of him. Seeing her confusion, Neville said adverb quietly, "I told him to get up to the dormitory before I hit him again."

Smiling ruefully, but gratefully at Neville, she knelt next to him and, soaking the bandage she had brought with her in the Dittany, she bandaged his hand, ignoring his hisses of pain.

As she finished, she glanced up at him to find him looking down at her, and, suddenly feeling embarrassed for some reason or other, she stood up quickly. She thanked him for what he had done, hurried up to her dormitory, and slipped into her bed, not hearing Neville's whispered, "it's no problem…"

Burrowing her head into her pillow, she expected to feel some leftover anger and hurt, but instead she only felt resignation.

She suspected that she had always known, deep down inside, that she and Ron were not meant to be. They had come together out of a single kiss in the heat of battle, and even before the kiss was over, she had known that something was not quite right. Assuming you're referring to the kiss at the Battle of Hogwarts, does this mean that Ron, Neville, Padma, etc. chose to return to Hogwarts to complete their seventh year, instead of just Hermione? Might want to clarify? She had tried to ignore it though, as everyone seemed to expect them to be together, and Ron had shown no hint that he was reluctant to be with her. They, and the others who had accepted Headmistress Mcgonagall's invitation had returned to Hogwarts, and she and Ron were still together, so she had assumed they were fine.

That was, until she, out of the belief that they ought to be doing more than simply making out, had tried, during one of their kissing sessions, to take it further, only to be stopped by a blushing Ron, who said he wasn't ready.

At the time, she had thought that it was adorable that she was the one who was ready to go further and he wasn't; their roles very reversed in comparison to what she had been expecting.

Only to find out now that it was all a farce, and that he just found her too repulsive to think of doing something like that with her.

She felt a familiar pang of hurt, similar to those from her childhood, where she had been the bookworm and children had teased her, the boys claiming she had cooties long after they had stopped saying that about other girls her age.

Pushing that feeling away, she concentrated on the warm feeling that Neville's comfort had given her.

Neville, who had finally grown out of his childish pudginess, as a boy and grown into a tall and lean man. Neville, whose confidence had blossomed after killing Nagini, but who was still afraid of girls and everything that that entailed. Neville, with his large, soothing hands, rubbing her back and stroking her head, murmuring comforting words into her ears, even when he hadn't known what was going on. Neville, who had stood up for her when Ron was saying such horrid things to her.

Falling asleep, Hermione dreamt of big, calm, comforting hands.