Chapter Nine

Hermione practically ran along the corridor back to the Gryffindor dormitories. She was watching the flood of people coming from the common room doors and felt the anticipation grow in her chest. She finally managed to dodge between the crowds and reach her bed in the dormitory. She threw her bag onto the floor, pulled off her scarf and sat down on her bed. It was then that everything began to sink in. Was she really doing this and with Draco Malfoy of all people? She must be mad she thought as the silence of the room washed over her. A wave of dread flooded through her stomach, making her breath catch in her throat. She didn't understand herself. For the first time in her life she was utterly lost and didn't have a clue what it was she wanted.

People had told her for most of her life that she was smart, that she was sensible, that she was bright. For once in her life she wanted to be exciting, to be adventurous, and to be free. She wanted to surprise everyone and make them see that she was not defined by her brains alone, that she was capable of trusting her heart as well as her head.

Having calmed herself down, she ran to her wardrobe. She wanted to change; not to dress up for him but to give the impression that she had been doing something other than sitting around waiting for him. She pulled out a simple blue dress which had long, sheer sleeves and pulled it over her head, tugging it down and into place. She looked at herself in the mirror as she pulled a brush through her hair. Do I look natural, she wondered. She wasn't sure but by this point, she didn't really care as the thrill and excitement had built up so that she could not help the smile from taking over her face. The sound of heavy footsteps sent a wave of anticipation through her body and she ran towards her door.

Pulling the door open she imagined in her head what she would see; his shiny blond hair, his arms which were both firm and soft all at once, his eyes which looked at her as though she were the only person he had ever seen. She saw none of this, however.

"Ron!" she half breathed, half squealed. She knew the moment it had come out of her mouth that she definitely had not sounded natural. Even Ron would know there was something up.

"Hermione, I came looking for you when you didn't show up. Harry said you must be ill but you look gre- I mean… I mean you look…"

"I'm fine Ron, really," she cut him off abruptly as she couldn't bear to hear him stumbling and stuttering through the rest of the sentence. She was pleading with him inside to leave, to get the message without her spelling it out for the first time in his life. He didn't leave the room though; instead he walked shyly over to her and, while looking at his feet the whole time, told her what he had told her every week nearly for the past 3 months.

"Hermione, I know you've been busy and I know that you said you didn't want to…to, well, ruin our friendship but I've been thinking and I really don't think it would ruin anything. Us, I mean."

"Ron, please…"

"No, Hermione, just listen for a sec. I'm sorry, I know it's hard for you because I'm probably not the guy you had in your head when you thought of who you would end up with but, I think you like me. I think you don't want to admit it because you're embarrassed but you do…"

"Ron, no, please don't say this. It's… it's…" She couldn't finish the sentence and she suddenly felt like she couldn't even stand. This had to be a dream, didn't it? It wasn't though, she realised and she suddenly felt so overwhelmed. So much had happened in the last few weeks, it was like a lifetime of emotion had forced itself into a few dizzying hours and even when she finally sat down on her bed she felt as though it were a strain to sit upright.

Ron sat down next to her and touched her chin with is index finger, moving it gently so that she faced him. It didn't feel right, she knew instantly, but she was numb. Even as she sensed his body tip forwards, closer to her, she could not make herself do anything. To hurt Ron would be to hurt herself; she may feel frustrated with him right now for putting her in this position, but she did love him; just not enough.

She started to tell him this but he did not let her get past those three words. The three words she was already regretting putting out there, because he didn't understand. Or maybe he didn't want to understand, she was not sure.

Either way, he was kissing her. It all happened so fast and yet so slowly. It was one of those moments which truly happens to you, as though it were not your life but rather a film you are watching, and you scream and scream at the characters because you cnt believe what a mess they've gotten themselves into.

She finally pulled back, although not abruptly, and saw, to her own dismay, that his eyes were filled with hope. She scrambled for but could not find any words to say to him. Instead she found herself summarising her entire day, her week in fact.

It's just too hard.