Chapter 4
Hermione woke the next morning with a feeling of determination. No matter what, by the end of the day, she would have this mess with Ron sorted out. A small part of her still hoped this was all a big misunderstanding, a miscommunication; something warped and twisted as it was passed along the rumour mill. But she knew. Deep down, she knew it was true. It had Ronald Weasley written all over it. He always had been a bit selfish and self-centred. She bet he had never even thought of how his actions might make her feel should they get back to her one day.
Grabbing her wand from her nightstand and her uniform from the stool next to her bed, laid out carefully the night before as it always was, Hermione padded softly into the adjoining bathroom. She set everything down on the counter and, yawning widely, began her usual morning routine. Her first shock of the day came while washing her hair. Normally, Hermione had to battle to run her hands through the inevitable knots that had formed overnight. This morning, however, Hermione’s fingers slid through from root to tip as though they were gliding through water. She froze for a moment before rapidly running her finger through her hair again and again and again. Not one snag to be found. What on earth?
She finished her shower, turned off the water and wrapped a thick, fluffy, white towel around her before stepping out. After flipping her head upside down and wrapping a second towel around her hair, turban style, she headed towards the sinks to brush her teeth. She knew most witches and wizards preferred to use a simple mouth freshening charm, but Hermione would never give up her muggle toothbrush and toothpaste. She supposed her parents being dentists probably had something to do with that decision but in reality, it was more likely the fact that the feeling of a good brushing and the taste of spearmint just could not be beaten.
Approaching the sinks, Hermione caught sight of her reflection in the mirror behind and discovered her second shock of the morning. She let out an audible gasp and rushed forwards, fingers to her cheeks. Her skin was positively glowing. She had never had a poor complexion per se, but she usually looked quite washed out – probably a combination of spending most of her time in the dark library and her complete lack of a skincare routine – and she had the odd breakout as most teenage girls did. Today though, her skin looked flawless. Silky smooth, thoroughly moisturised, and radiant. Her eyebrows, now plucked and trimmed into shaped by Parvati, framed her eyes perfectly, making them seem larger and more alert. Even without a drop of make up on, Hermione had never felt more beautiful. She brushed her teeth, grateful she had yet to put her uniform on as she was grinning at her reflection so widely toothpaste was spilling everywhere.
Once dressed, Hermione removed the towel from her head and grabbed her wand. One of the first charms she had taught herself upon arriving at Hogwarts was a hair drying charm. Her hair was so thick it took all day to dry naturally, and using a hairdryer was out due to the lack of electricity in wizarding properties. Casting the charm, Hermione actually let out a high-pitched squeal this time. Soft, defined, cascading curls were flowing over her shoulders and down her back. Her usual fly away mess of frizzy mane was tamed to perfection. She brought her hands to her face and began to sob gently. Although she had never been one for vanity, Hermione’s hair had always been something she had been bullied about relentlessly in both the muggle and wizarding worlds. The only time she had ever been able to do anything like this to her hair was for the Yule Ball, and that had not only taken three hours and two bottles of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion, but also left her hair a sticky mess for days.
Parvati and Lavender barged into the bathroom, having heard her screech. Upon seeing her crying, both girls rushed to either side of her, gathering her in a group hug.
“What happened?”
“Are you okay?”
“Did we do too much?”
“We can dial it back?”
Hermione shook her head vigorously. “No,” she said, raising her head to meet their eyes in the mirror in front of them. “Everything is perfect. I don’t know how you did this, but it’s incredible.”
This was exactly what Hermione wanted when she asked the girls not to make her something she wasn’t. She still looked like herself, just a more polished version. She still felt like herself, but there was something new there too. Confidence. For sure, Hermione had confidence in spades when it came to her lessons and academia, but now she felt as if she could conquer the world AND look good doing it.
Hermione found Ron in the common room almost immediately. He was playing a game of chess against Dean; the game being avidly watched by Seamus, Neville and Harry. She said goodbye to Lavender and Parvati and made her way over to the group. They had offered to come with her as back up, but Hermione knew this was something she had to do for herself.
“Ron, I need a word with you please,” she said as she stood next to him, arms crossed in front of her chest.
Not looking up from the board, Ron replied, “In a minute, Hermione. I’m busy.”
“Now, Ronald,” she snapped, channelling her best Mrs Weasley don’t-mess-with-me tone.
Ron’s head jerked up instantly, his mouth gaping open as he took her in.
“Bloody hell, Hermione! You look amazing!”
“A word, please. Now.”
Hermione turned and stalked away to an empty alcove across the room. She fumed as she heard Seamus laugh out, “Better hurry, Ron, the missus looks pissed!”. Ron tried to shush the boys as they fell about laughing and she turned to see him scrambling to get up, flipping the chess board over in his haste to follow her.
As soon as he had joined her, she threw up a barrier charm before whipping round to face him. Ron gulped, eyes wide like a cornered animal.
“Am I good?” Hermione asked sweetly, tilting her head to the side, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Urmm, w-what?” Ron stammered back, clearly confused.
“Am I a good kisser?” Hermione continued. “You see, it’s come to my attention that we’ve been kissing all over the castle. Funny, you wouldn’t think that would be news to me, would you? Seeing as I’m supposedly involved in this torrid little romance you’ve invented.”
Ron paled, all colour fading from his face, panic visibly setting in.
“Why, Ron? Why would you make something like that up?”
Swallowing harshly, as if his mouth was suddenly bone dry, Ron mumbled quietly to the wall, unable to make eye contact, “Was hoping it could be true.”
Hermione sighed and ran a hand down her face, annoyed. “Why wouldn’t you talk to me then? Why spout off to half the boys in Gryffindor and make up lies?”
“I’m sorry, Mione. I just heard all the boys talking about how good you looked at the ball and I…I got a bit jealous I suppose. I just wanted them all to back off a bit until I could work up the nerve to talk to you about giving us a shot. You’re a little bit intimidating.” Ron glanced over at her. “In a good way!” Ron hurried to add as he caught the scowl on her face.
“Still a crappy way to go about it, Ron,” Hermione said, shaking her head.
“D-do you think we could? You know, maybe, I dunno, sort of, go out together?” Ron was wringing his hands in front of him, obviously nervous. “Like a, like a date, sort of thing, maybe?”
As Hermione looked at him, she felt her anger slip away. She smiled gently at him, closed mouthed and shook her head softly, “No, Ron. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? Because of what I did? I’m sorry, I really am! I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything you want!”
“No, it’s not just that. I just…I’m sorry, I just don’t see you that way. You’re one of my best friends and I think…I think it should stay that way.”
“But you, you fancy me,” Ron said adamantly. “Everyone said so! That’s why you were so pissed with me at the Yule Ball. I didn’t see it then, but everyone said that you wanted me to ask you because you wanted to be with me!”
“Ron…” Hermione sighed again, looking to the ceiling before continuing. “I did think that, maybe, there might be something there between us. I did. And yes, that is probably why I got so annoyed with you, because it hurt a bit that you didn’t even see me as a girl, let alone a potential girlfriend. But then I really, truly, thought about it and, Ron…we just wouldn’t work. We bicker all the time and not in a cute way. I love you so much as a friend. I’m scared if we try and push for anything more, we’ll lose our friendship when it all, inevitably, blows up in our faces. And it will, Ron. I know it will. You know it too.”
They were silent for a moment as they both took everything in. Finally, Ron shrugged, dejectedly, and said, “Can’t blame me for trying to shoot my shot, hey?”
Chuckling, Hermione replied, “Absolutely not. Although the way you did it left a lot to be desired.” She raised her eyebrows at him.
“Do you hate me?”
“Of course I don’t, you big idiot. I am still extremely annoyed at what you said to the boys though.”
“What can I do, Mione? How can I fix it?”
“Well, for starters, you can quit with the ‘Mione’ business. I hate that nickname.”
Ron looked a little sheepish, “Done.”
A slow smile crept onto Hermione’s face. Ron didn’t think he was going to like what she had to say next. He was right, but he supposed it was only fair. She dropped her barrier charm, allowing Ron to exit. She followed him out into the main common room area.
A wolf whistle sounded as they crossed the room. Hermione looked across to see the culprit was George Weasley, leaning against one of the stone castle walls, with Lee Jordan at his side. “Shut it, Weasley,” she shot at him, aggressively as she passed. She almost laughed out loud at the shocked look on both their faces. She had never spoken to them like that before. Ginny, who was sitting in one of the large, over-stuffed armchairs nearby, gave her an appreciative little smirk, gently nodding her head, brows raised.
Ron had made it to the centre of the common room now. He climbed up on a low table and cleared his throat.
“Umm, may I have everyone’s attention please? I, err…really, Hermione, do I have to?” She gave him a couple of exaggerated, slow nods. “Oh, alright then. I, Ronald Weasley, told lies about my relationship with Hermione Granger. She is my friend, only my friend and has only ever been my friend. Nothing more, ever.” He went to climb down but caught Hermione’s eye. “Oh, and I publicly apologise to her for spreading false information and beg for her forgiveness.”
“Thank you, Ron. I forgive you. You can get down now,” Hermione giggled as the room erupted in laughter, whooping, and clapping.
“How about a party tonight to celebrate my brother getting his balls handed to him,” yelled George over the noise. The entire tower was filled with cheers that could be heard out in the surrounding corridors.
Hermione grinned widely. Lavender and Parvati were going to have a field day.