“I don’t know what to do,” sighed Hermione finally.

Ginny looked at her, a little more than amazed. “But… he’s a Slytherin. He’s Malfoy.”

“I know,” she thrust her head into her hands, frustrated. “And I despise him more than anything. He’s arrogant, conceited, and disrespectful. He’s the biggest jerk in the world.”

“And Ron?”

“He’s not much different. All we ever do is fight.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know… because he’s annoying? This isn’t helping, Ginny. I'm just more confused.”

“Do you like Draco?”

“Did you not just hear me before? And anyway… we’ve spent our whole school career hating each other. One little play isn’t going to change anything.”

“Yes, well, a lot of kissing might,” she replied smartly, running her hands over a red pillow.

Hermione groaned. “I don’t like him, all right, Ginny?”

She nodded, appearing convinced, and she dropped the subject.

….

“We’re going into Hogsmeade later today, Harry. Are you coming?” Hermione asked, sitting down in the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Sure,” he smiled, looking up from the Daily Prophet.

“Anything new?” asked Ron. His red hair seemed to have grown a few inches longer, and he kept brushing it out of his eyes with a little bit of frustration.

“Nope,” he replied, throwing the paper aside. “Why don’t you just get your hair cut, Ron?”

He shrugged, and then blushed a little. “Well, er… you see…”

His voice lowered so Hermione wouldn’t overhear. She shot him a dismissive look and tuned out of the conversation.

“Ginny told me that the girls find it attractive.”

Harry had just taken a large sip from his goblet, and he began to cough and splutter. “Ron!”

“What?” he asked, trying not to flush.

“Nothing, nothing. I just never saw you taking advice from Ginny… I mean, is she not like the girl version of Fred and George? She could have just been joking, Ron.”

“Maybe she was telling the truth,” he said hopefully.

“Yes, well…I think she lied,” laughed Hermione, standing up and heading out of the doors.

“Hey!” Ron called. “You weren’t supposed to listen!”

She turned around, smiled, and left.

….

By the time they’d gotten back from Hogsmeade, the constant flood of rain had turned to snow. Hermione had thought that she’d never been colder in her life.

The three of them took over the chairs in front of the fire, listening silently to the other Gryffindors’ conversations. Finally, Ron spoke up.

“You ready for the dress rehearsal Thursday, Hermione?”

“Actually… yes,” she replied honestly. “I think I’ve got everything down. The lines, the moves… I just don’t think that anyone will like the play.”

“From what you told me, it’s a romance, Hermione.”

“I know that, Harry. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well… you know how girls are. They’ll are start to get teary-eyed in the audience, while we all feel awkward…”

“Ah, it won’t be so bad…” smiled Ron. “After all, they’ll need a shoulder to cry on. I'm perfect for that. I have a shoulder.”

Ignoring Ron, Hermione smirked. “Trust me, Harry. The only thing girls will be crying about is how awful it is. We’ve all got everything memorized, but the props are a mess and the fact that Draco and I… well... you know. Not many people will like that.”

Harry looked at her, eyes open.

“What?” she asked at his surprised expression.

“Y-you called him ‘Draco.’ Since when are you two on first name basis?”

“Probably since they’ve been talking a lot,” interrupted Ron, having his voice heard once more. “Maybe it just gets a bit confusing. And anyway, Hermione, you have to remember- it’s not you and Malfoy up on stage. It’s your characters. Nothing is personal, you know?”

Hermione nodded. “Yeah, I guess. I’ll be right back- I'm going to get a blanket from my dormitory. It’s a bit cold.”

When she left, Harry faced Ron with one eyebrow raised. “Not long ago, you were criticizing her. Now you’re suddenly nice and accepting?”

“I just figured that it was best to try to see things from her point of view,” he shrugged, shifting slightly in the soft crimson chair. He shook the hair out of his face once more, and that struck a thought in Harry.

“It’s Ginny, isn’t it? You’ve been asking her for advice!”

Ron blushed and shook his head a bit too much.

“Ginny can only help you so much, Ron. You really need to figure all of this out on your own.”

“I know, I know, but Ginny says that Hermione isn’t even that interested-”

“But I thought you didn’t like her? I thought nothing was happening between you two.” Harry’s voice proved just how much he was taunting Ron. Ron wanted to say something back, to deny it all, but before he could, Hermione returned.

She settled herself back in the char, snuggled underneath a soft, white blanket. She sighed and stared deep into the fire, thinking things that no one would understand. Suddenly, she blurted out, “How’s Remus?”

Harry blinked, a little surprised at her randomness. “Er, well, I suppose. I haven’t talked to him lately. He doesn’t have time to write much, with everything that’s going on.”

She nodded, but for some reason, Harry had the sense that she honestly didn’t really care about how Remus was at the moment. Her questions were like a way to fill the sphere of silence that had cascaded all around them.
Finally, Harry coughed a little then stood up. “Well, I'm off to bed. See you two in the morning.”

And he left them, Hermione swimming in her own thoughts, and Ron contemplating whether or not Ginny’s advice was really helpful.