Ugh, fine

"Destination, determination... deliberation… destination…” Hermione was actually spinning now, totally not concerned about people staring at them while walking on High Street in Hogsmeade. Ron’s hands were moist and his heart was pounding almost as hard as her shrill voice.

“destination, determination, del-”

“stop!” Ron felt like fainting from the stress, but he would never admit that to her.

“Hermione, stop.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and was now holding her in front of him. She had to turn her head in an odd angle to look at him from up close, but they were used to it (Ron reached six feet last summer; Hermione stopped growing around the third year).

“Listen to me. You are the most powerful witch I have ever met, heard of or read about, alright? You have nothing to worry about, you big dork.” he ended it with a shaky smile because Hermione was so… sensitive and unpredictable these last few days, but he was not very good at this compliment thing, so when it was just the two of them he wasn't sure what to say without her snapping at him.

But Hermione seemed to be pleased. They walked a couple of steps in silence, listening to the sound of leaves on the ground being crushed under their shoes. 

“When you said ‘read about’... you meant having me to read to you, right?” 

“Ugh, fine. But you’re still a dork.” He got out a smile and felt a little less nervous now, knowing that he cheered her up. (Ron always felt as if it was his life role to be the funniest person in the room whenever he was away from his family, because that was the one thing that was his and nobody else’s - without counting Fred and George - he tried not to think about that).

“Okay, so we’re supposed to get to the Salem Victims Memorial Statue at 10. We have about 31 minutes - if we count the walking and standing in line and… do you want to go there now? If we go right now we can check the place out and be prepared…” she kept going and Ron was flooded with a sudden wave of affection and warmth. She was so passionate about everything, how could you not find that endearing? (Well, In a… pitty kind of way).

She isn't that bad, Ron thought to himself with some compassion. And she did really help him with Lavender - well, helped him avoid her. He was starting to feel more certain about this Hermione thing. He didn’t dare to give it a name, because that would put everything on the line, and that’s the last thing they needed. He did dare to daydream about it though… Hermione in potions class, holding his hand. Hermione in the library, bent over a book with her hair up. Hermione in his lap, saying his name with a softness he had almost never heard from her. Just imagine all the new ways she could say his name. He heard her in his mind going “Ron”...“Ron,”

“Ron!” Hermione’s real voice sharply cut his vision about the both of them being soft with each other. 

“Were you listening to a word I just said?” she asked (there was no tenderness in that tone).

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” he asked, overwhelmed by the mental image of her kissing his ear.

“What would you do without me, Ronald?” she smiled fondly and opened the door to the Honeydukes. “You are just lucky to have me.” She got in and he went after her, stuck in a loop of her giggling in his head.

“You’re not listening again. See? I knew you were nervous too.”

Of course he was. His best friend was stuck at a school that couldn't protect him; his annoying girlfriend (ex-girlfriend, finally) and her giggling gang were practically on his tale since the break up; he was about to apparate without any knowledge of the subject; and there she was, the person he wanted most in his life, just standing there, all smiley and beautiful. And she was looking right at him like she always did - like he had value on his own, not in comparison to anyone else. And like she knows things about him that no one else knows, things that make her like him even more. She was more. And he just wanted her so much. He wanted many things, actually, but every single one of these things was on the verge of impossible, and so indescribably, ridiculously complicated.

“Hah, yeah. Terrified.”

----------------

Harry was walking in the empty castle with no purpose - with the apparition test happening in Hogsmeade today, Harry didn't have actual friends to be around. He could hang around Ginny, of course, but she had classes, and also, Harry was just not in the mood to be figuring stuff out. They had that big kiss several weeks ago in the common room, and Harry had not really had the chance to talk to her about this yet, and didn't know how he feels about the whole thing. Whenever Harry thought about her he was in actual pain. As an inevitable solution, he just stopped himself from thinking about her. It was working for him for about half of the time. He missed her so much, though.

Harry felt like going outside but he didn’t want to sit by himself or be harassed by anyone. He saw Draco in the hall and walked over there, in the habit of following him and proving he is up to shady things. 

“Potter”, Draco spattered with obvious hatred. “What are you doing here?”

Harry took a second glance at him; he looked awful with the dark circles under his eyes, that looked even darker against his pale skin. He also looked troubled, looking over his shoulder every few seconds and clenching his fists. 

“Drop the act, Malfoy, I know you’re working with Voldemo-” Draco turned to him with a hysterical rage in his eyes, and stopped inches from Harry’s face. 

“You will not, say the name, Potter, you got it? There is a target on your back as it is.” Draco moved even closer, squinting his eyes. ”Unless, of course, you want to do us all a favor and let the dark lord just kill you here and now”.

Harry saw Draco’s eyes filled with they’re usual contempt, but after that familiar sneer of his, he recognized fear, and Harry just stared until the terror in this boy’s eyes was all he could see.

“What does he have on you?” Harry whispered. 

Draco turned from him with another sneer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on Malfoy, you must know that you’re on the wrong side of the war, I mean, do you really believe he would recruit a 16-year-old student to be a death eater without having a hidden motive? Don’t you think he’s just doing it to punish your dad for-”

“Don’t you ever mention my father, Potter! I’m doing this for my family, something that you will never-”

And then he stopped talking because Harry’s mouth was on his and he was kissing him (rather forcefully, to be honest) and he couldn't talk when he was kissing him. 

“What… Harry, what… was that?”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about.

----------------

Two minutes to the exam. Hermione looked like she was about to puke. Ron was about to puke. They were sitting on the pavement, looking at the short wizard who was standing in the middle of Salem Square with the list of Hogwarts students. He was listing them in alphabetical order, and was probably the most un-charismatic person ever to exist.

“Brown, Lavender!” the name made both Hermione and Ron make a face; Hermione with loathe, Ron with horror. Lavender walked past them and looked down to where they were both sitting. The grudge in her eyes was definitely matching Hermione’s face, but she kept walking in silence.

“Hey, Weasley!” called a high pitched voice behind Hermione and Ron. “How’s your aim?” Parvati Patil asked with a wicked smile on her face.

“My what?” Ron asked. He looked at Hermione but she seemed as confused as he felt.

“Your aim. You obviously lost all sense of direction if you’re sitting with that mud-blood instead of Lavender.” Parvati said with a grin and her friends burst into laughter, all looking at Hermione’s red face. 

“Corner, Michael!” the tired voice was almost not heard among everyone’s chattering.

There were too many bloody people there (“Crabbe, Vincent!”), and Ron felt all the blood in his body going up to his cheeks and he heard himself screaming something at those girls; The next thing he knew, there was a purple spark coming out of someone’s wand and right into his chest.

Everything went dark. Ron fell down and he was a mess of legs and arms and tears. Tears? Were there tears in his eyes? He tried to wipe them away but his eyes were normally dry.
“Ron!” Hermione sounded hysterical, holding him and screaming something like “a vertigous spell?....? Don't you have any self resp…” but Ron couldn't see anything, why couldn't he see anything?

(“Finnigan, Seamus!”)

“‘Mione, stop spinnin’...” He groaned and grabbed her wrist so tight, that it almost restored his stability. His hands were too close to the ground, his face was too close to the ground, his head kept spinning and his sight was blurry and he had no idea what was going on. (“Goldstein, Anthony!”)

Someone was dragging him then laid him down on a stone bench behind a couple of trees. The feel of a steady surface beneath him felt like a miracle, but he was still rattled. 

“Ron, are you okay?” Hermione was kneeling down next to him, her eyes so wide he could fit planets into the white in them. (Her eyes, that is. The white in her eyes, not the white in the planets. Bloody hell, what was that curse? He could barely even think straight)

“No, yes. I’m… I'm fine, ‘Mione. Just a little-”

“dizzy?” The look on Hermione’s face was frightening with anger. “That prat Parvati hexed you with vertigous. That bloody witch.”

Ron didn't have time to tell her to stop being a muggle (since when was ‘witch’ an insult? Was Hermione new to magic?) because the short wizard called “Goyle, Gregory!” and Hermione was right after him.

“Go. go! I mean it, I'll be fine. Go.”

Hermione mumbled a spell and a jug of water appeared next to him. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done, okay? Stay here!”

“Granger, Hermione!”

That’s the last thing Ron heard before he passed out.

----------------

“Our portrait will never be caught so unpresentable,” Draco looked disgusted to see the fat lady barely waking from her nap to let them into the Gryffindor common room. 

"Just... shut up Malfoy" Harry grunted and rolled his eyes as they were walking through the hole in the wall.

They ended up on Harry's bed. Facing each other. Kissing each other. There really was no place in the room to make out other than the bed, Harry now realized. His hand was half-way into the bright hair that was gelled down, when Draco mumbeld

"Potter..."

Harry pulled away and opened his eyes, ignoring Draco's annoyed expression.

"What?"

"You... you called me Harry before. In the hallway. Not Potter."

"So?" Draco seemed more than annoyed now; he was impatient. He reached back and moved his face closer but Harry insisted.

"I... I prefer Harry," he said, stuttering.

"Hell, Potter, is that what you're thinking right now? And wait, you still call me Malfoy!"

Harry sighed and let his head fall slightly ahead when he said quietly "Fine, I'll… I’ll just…”
He never finished that sentence.

--------------

“You will apparate in this room, Miss Granger, and this room alone. You will not, and I repeat, you will not! Leave this room during the exam. Is that clear?”

She should probably look at the examiner’s face, Hermione thought to herself, but she was far more interested in the exam and wasn't quite worried about being polite. Destination, determination, deliberation, Hermione heard herself mumbling while looking at the two hoops on the floor.

Actually, she was expecting something more… just more. Her mum and dad told her all about muggle driving exams - they were way more complex than that. Destination, determination, deliberation. That bench was right behind the square, hidden in a line of trees. The exam will probably take a few minutes, and then she will rush back to Ron. That… ugh! There isn't a word despicable enough to describe her. He’s probably calling her name again, Hermione thought. 

She still remembered summer vacation after the fourth year, when she and Harry both were staying with Ron in Grimmauld place 12, all three of them cooped up in one bedroom. Harry was having nightmares and she was worried about school, so Ron was the only one calm enough to actually sleep. One night Hermione heard him saying her name, so she jumped up from the couch she was sleeping on and reached for his bed, thinking something bad happened. Ron was lying with his face down to his pillow, so the words came out all blurry. “‘Mione. Don't go. Stairs slippery. We’ll fall.”

“I’m right here,” she whispered back. 

“Good.” and then he rolled away and mumbled something about a pie. Harry said Cedric’s name for the twentieth time that night. Hermione sighed. This went down every night. It was indeed a memorable summer.

Hermione never told anyone about this, not even Ginny, because it was probably pathetic of her to get all worked up over something like this. But she insisted on believing that the fact that he thought of her - and her alone - must mean something. Well, even if he was unconscious.  

“Miss Granger!” Hermione jumped and was now fully blushed, when the examiner looked at her like she was about to throw her out.

“I am so sorry, Mrs…” a whimper came out of Hermione’s mouth when she realized she didn't even know the woman’s name.  

“Just start.” the woman said with a sigh. 

Hermione, mortified (Because of the exam. And Ron. And the fact that she had just shown complete lack of respect to a superior authority figure), stumbled into the first hoop while trying to recite the three D’s in her mind. 

Her eyes were shut tightly and she imagined the second hoop; destination, destinationwas always the hardest. Hermione felt this rush of excitement and the feeling of a strong pull in her lower stomach, then opened her eyes and turned to look at the hoop she just left. 

“Very well, Miss Granger,” said the weary voice. “You can now apparate within any magic territory, please take a pamphlet about the dangers of apparate actions and the law of the ministry of magic regarding the topic. Have a good day.” 

Hermione felt as though the lady couldn't possibly be any more bored and irritated; But who cares. One less thing to worry about.

-------------

“I never knew you felt this way about me,” Harry said (when he actually meant to say ‘I never knew I felt this way about you').

“Would you shut it, Potter? You're ruining it.” Malfoy was kissing his ear. Draco was kissing his ear.

Harry tried to stop himself from thinking because his mind was racing and that’s exactly what Draco told him not to do. Harry kissed him back, tracing his jawline and thinking about Ginny and Amortentia potions and sherbet lemon. It felt like both of them were choreographed perfectly, and Harry knew exactly what to do, even though it was by far the weirdest thing He ever did in Hogwarts, including magic. He didn't know yet if he liked it. Well, of course he liked it, but was it better than kissing Ginny? Or Cho? He couldn't tell.

He didn't even know why he kissed Draco in the first place. He felt like they've never been that silent with each other before. Well, they've never… snogged before, either. Harry pulled away and made Draco look at him.

“What?”

“You… you want to kiss me.” Harry was talking slowly and carefully, like he was making sure it was not a prank.

“No, I’m under the Imperius curse. It’s actually just an elaborate scheme to catch you off guard and in your underwear. Don't be ridiculous, Potter. It’s embarrassing.”

“So…” Harry was puzzled. “You do. Want to.”

“Yeah, so? I too fell into the stupid chram of the stupid Chosen One. Happy now?”

“How long?”

“What?”

“Since when did you want to do this?”

Draco sank into the bed and sighed. “Merlin, Potter. You’re tiring me. I don't know.” 

“Why didn't you do anything? Said something? I would've…”

“Would’ve what? What would you do?” Draco got up on his elbows and looked up at Harry, who was still sitting up. “Forget that we’re mortal enemies? That we’re two blokes? That we are in the middle of an earth-shaking war, which of course, we are on opposite sides of? Forget that you’re supposed to be with the little Weaslebee, and kill my entire family in the war of bad against good, me included? What would you have done differently, Harry? Because I can't think of anything.”

Harry couldn't think of anything to say, mainly because he was overwhelmed by all those problems, listed in an orderly sentence. He didn't even try to deny any of that. Everything was true. (Draco basically just admitted that he was a death eater, but it wasn't important now. If anything, Harry kind of wished he had never found out). It felt like a dead-end.

All of a sudden their adventure didn't feel so adventurous. The air was dry and the silent became heavy. Harry planted himself on the bed next to Draco, and they stared at the ceiling. 

“It’s not like we’re getting married or something” Harry immediately regretted saying that. He just used the word married. 

“What are you saying?” Draco asked, intrigued. (He didn't sound bothered about the M word, thankfully).

“I’m saying,” Harry turned towards Draco, “we don't need to plan anything right now. I mean, is there even a ‘we’ to talk about? I don't even know. I thought we… hated each other up till now.”

“We did” said Draco calmly. “We do." 

He thought about it more. "We did. I don't know. I guess things are not certain for me. Although we really should hate each other, mainly because we are complete opposites and have nothing in common.”

“Except for everything,” Harry commented. He kissed Draco’s lips shortly. “I don't know what’s happening, and I’m not really in a hurry to find out. I’m up for doing whatever we want. No pressure.”

Draco squinted his eyes at Harry. “Why are you so calm about this?” 

Harry shrugged. “I’ve fought dragons, so…”

---------------

“Don’t move him!” 

Ron could not see anything. What was Ginny doing in the middle of his dorm? Why is it so dark here? 

“Dean, you prick, eliminat your nox charm, I can't see.” 

Every bloody morning.

“Ron?” the girl asked anxiously. If Ginny was sneaking in every night into their dorm to be with Harry, there would be some serious hexing.
Ugh, he knew it! It’s one thing to be supportive of the two of them, but having to put up with… this?! Ron’s eyes flew open and he was ready to yell. 

“You’re… not Ginny.” Ron mumbled eventually, eyeing the girl. He needed to blink a couple of times before he got used to the sudden sunlight.

“Very well spotted.”

There it was. The tenderness. Hermione was by his side, sitting up on her knees. She looked concerned but not pissed off, which was always a good sign. Ron suddenly became aware of the situation and tried to move, uncomfortably.
“What… how…” He looked around, landing his eyes on Dean and Seamus, who were kneeling behind Hermione, looking slightly panicked. 

“Parvati?” Ron asked. He remembered a purple flair, some shouting, and his head was pounding like it just hit a rock of some kind. (Like that time Fred and George bet him that he couldn't run past the front yard of the Burrow in less than ten seconds, and in the middle of his run they both used a protego spell on the lawn, causing Ron to hit the invisible wall with a thud. The bruise on his forehead stayed for weeks. The teasing, though, will probably last a lifetime).

Ron sat up, ran his hand over his neck and moved up to the back of his head, where there was definitely a bump. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate” Dean smiled nervously. “You rolled around and fell off the bench. But we left you only for a second! We, well, we needed some… energy…” he held a glass of butterbeer in his hand but tried to smoothly hide it behind Seamus’ back. Ron saw it. So did Hermione.

The look she gave them was equally frightening as a stupify charm, and Ron almost flinched, thinking that if there's anyone who can stupify with only a look, it would definitely be her.

“You can go now.” Hermione said to the boys without turning around to look at them, “Both of you.” Dean and Seamus scrambled to their feet and walked away quickly. Merlin, was Ron happy to be on her good side at the moment. 

“Wait, is it my turn yet? Ron was about to stand up and walk over to the short wizard, “Did they get to Weasley?”

“They got to Zabini… forty minutes ago” Hermione said. “I’m sorry.” 

Ron sighed heavily and sat down on the bench. “Ah, I wasn't ready anyway. Merling, my head is throbbing”, he fell back down and fought the urge to let out a sob. 

“What I don't understand is how Parvati could just hex you like that. And in public and everything! Wench.”

“‘Mione, stop being a muggle for a second, would you?” (finally! He said it) “and what are you doing down there?” 

Hermione was opening a small bottle and shaking it over her palm. She handed him a white pill. “Take this, Ron. You’ll feel better.”

Ron stared at the tiny ball with pure awe; “you can brew medicine now?” he gladly grabbed the pill and examined it a little. “What's this potion? I swear, you are a goddess. What can't you do?”

“Godric, no.” Hermione laughed and shook her head. “not yet, anyway. I’m working on it though.” (Of course she was).

“This is an Aspirin. Nice to meet you too, Ronald Weasley.”

Ron was confused by both the unknown name and by Hermione’s awkward attempt of joking.

“aspirin? I do not know this one” 

“this is actually muggle medicine,”

Hermione looked rather calm for someone who just confessed about trying to shove poison down his throat.

“Have you gone mental? I’m not eating this… thing! I will just… take care of myself, thank you very much.” Ron tossed the poor pill aside and began to get up but fell right back down, powerless. 

“What’s the matter, Ronald? Lightheaded, are we?”

Ugh, even without seeing the look on her face Ron knew that she won. 

“Oh, shut it. Give me the bloody thing.”

----------------

Draco’s hands were cold, as Harry thought they would be (Not that Harry ever thought about Malfoy’s hands. That would just be a weird thing to imagine). As soon as they moved past Draco's negativity outburst they both got right back in their previous occupation. 

Something on the bed made a crushing sound. Harry opened one eye and saw the empty box of Romilda Vane’s chocolate cauldrons that made Ron temporarily love-struck. He felt as if the universe was trying to tell him something important, but Malfoy’s lips were demanding and urgent and Harry couldn't possibly be focused on these two things at once, could he?  

Draco Had just placed his palms on both sides of Harry’s neck when Harry pulled away again.

“Ron!” He screamed with horror.

“It’s Draco, you bloody imbecile” Draco was clearly pissed off now. 

“No, no, Ron and Dean and everyone else, they’re about to come back from Hogsmeade and find you here.”

The boys rushed downstairs and were fixing their ties as the fat lady looked at them suspiciously. 

“Okay, I think we’re in the clear,” Draco looked around the grand hall, making sure they’re not seen. 

“Uhm, your hair, uh…” mumbled Harry without looking in his eyes, just pointing at Draco’s shiny blonde hair that was all messed up and kind of funny looking. 

Draco pulled a mirror from an inside pocket in his robes, which of course, Harry was just about to make fun of. 

“Harry!” Hermione’s voice made them both jump scaredly and turn around, although Draco was able to make himself seem bored, somehow. Then he walked off, giving a dirty look to Hermione and Ron. 

“What did he want?” Ron asked with anger.

“Oh, just, the usual…” Harry answered and wondered if there was any time that things with him and Draco were any less usual.

“Are you alright? You look sort of… shaken.” Hermione probably smells Malfoy’s cologne, Harry hysterically thought. Wait, does Malfoy (Draco!) wear any cologne? Can people smell it on Harry now? Did it smell bad? What does Draco even smell like?

Harry stopped that thought long enough to shrug and reassure Hermione he was fine.
“So,” he asked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table “how was it for the two of you?” 

“what?” Ron looked up from his plate so fast that all Harry could see was a blurry red spot moving where his head should be. 

Hermione now had the same impatient look, like when she had to explain something to both of them. “The test, Harry,” - she said Harry but looked at Ron - “went well. I passed!” 

“Yes, she was great,” said Ron with his mouth full of toast. Harry was waiting for Hermione to tell Ron to chew with his bloody mouth closed in that mother-like tone of hers, but it didn’t come. 

“And judging by your good mood, I guess you passed too.” Harry took a bite of the sherbet lemon as he suddenly thought again about what Malfoy (bloody hell, Draco!) might smell like. 

“Ah, no, I didn’t, but that’s alright, I’ll have other chances, right?”

“absolutely!” Hermione agreed and reached for her pumpkin juice. 

Harry was surprised that Ron was being so Uncharacteristically positive, but then again, most of the things to happen in the last hours were... uncharacteristic in a way.