Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling.
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Chapter 7:  Topaz

A loud rumble awoke Hermione later that day. Sleepily she thought that it was Crookshanks, he was pressed up against her, his deep purrs rattling her body while she slept. But as a brilliant flash illuminated the bedroom, she realized that it was about to storm, she could smell the rain on the air. She gasped and leapt out of bed, a blast of air had blown a pile of papers from Ginny's desk onto the floor, the window was still open. 

"Ow!" Hermione cried out as she felt the sprained ankle twist as she stood up. "Stupid ankle, stupid broom, stupid Fred and George," she grumbled as she hobbled over to the window, shutting it firmly. Still grumbling to herself she decided to go find Ron, she hadn't thanked him yet for rescuing her, or breaking her fall for that matter. Ron seemed to be thinking along much the same lines because as she opened the door she found him standing out in the hall. Ron immediately went very red and looked at the floor. 

"I... I... wanted to see if you were awake, so that you could help me with that... um... essay for Snape." He said not looking at her.

"You mean for Professor McGonagall, right?" She asked, smiling at him. Hermione figured that he was embarrassed that he had waited so long to work on their summer homework. 

"Right...McGonagall," Ron said in what he hoped was a convincing voice. He couldn't even think about essays right now, or class, or books, or school. He'd been pacing out in the hallway for at least an hour; having Hermione just open the door on him so suddenly had sent him into complete confusion. He had no idea why he was standing outside his little sister's bedroom waiting for one of his best friends to wake up. 

"So, has your Mum come home yet?" Hermione asked over her shoulder as she tried to hop on one foot over to the pile of schoolbooks. Ron nodded at her, he still hadn't come into the room yet, he was watching her with an almost petrified expression from the hallway. "Are the twins grounded for life?" She queried, not noticing how weird Ron was being. He just shook his head. Hermione bumped her ankle into the edge of the bed frame and sat down hard on the floor, grasping her wounded foot. This seemed to snap Ron back to life; he came forward into the room and kneeled down next to her. He reached out and took a hold of her ankle.

"It's still a little swollen." Hermione grumbled, "I want to thank you for saving me Ron." She looked at him, feeling herself blush a little bit. She couldn't help but wonder at this. 

"Oh it's no problem, what are friends for?" Ron grinned at her. His grin suddenly vanished from his face when he realized that he was still holding her foot and that he had been gently caressing her ankle with his thumb. He dropped her foot almost as it burned him and jumped back. 

"Ron?" Hermione asked, looking rather startled. "Where are you going? I thought you wanted to work on the essay?" For Ron had gotten to his feet and was out the door without a backwards glance. "Oh lovely," she muttered, "now what have I done?" But there was no answer as Ron's feet could be heard dashing up the stairs and his door slammed shut. Hermione sat on the floor glaring darkly at nothing in particular. She couldn't believe her summer. She still hadn't talked to George, although she had a sneaky suspicion that this might be a good thing considering what happened the last time they had talked. A flash of red caught her attention, peering around at the doorway she could swear that something had moved out in the hall. "Ron?" She called, carefully getting up. But it wasn't Ron out in the hall she soon discovered as George stepped back into view. Hermione immediately felt lightheaded looking at him. She couldn't stop thinking about last night's events, and then she remembered how she had acted earlier that day, before the accident. Hermione blushed a deep crimson, "what he must think of me now," remembering how flirtatious she had been. Taking a deep breath she tried to smile at him.

"Hello George."

George looked at her for a moment, took a half step into the room, and then thought better of it, turning he walked back out. Just like Ron, she heard him go up the stairs, followed soon after by a loud crash as his door slammed shut. From downstairs Hermione could hear Mrs. Weasley calling up at him.

"Fred, George, that door had better be open." Hermione would have grinned as she heard the distinct sound of door being kicked open from up above if the entire situation wasn't giving her such a headache. 

"Oh this is ridiculous," she muttered, "I am not going to hide up in this room avoiding all Weasley contact. Percy will be home soon, then at least someone will talk to me," she thought, rather annoyed by the whole situation. Hermione hobbled over to the desk and snatched up her book and proceeded to delicately make her way down the stairs. She had thought that Ron had forgiven her, but now he wasn't talking to her. She knew that she needed to have things out with George, but he wasn't talking to her either. She was becoming rather fed up with the Weasley children to be quiet honest. Hermione opened the back door; it wasn't raining yet, soon though. A strong gust of wind whipped her brown hair around her face. She settled herself down onto the back step, propping her book up on her lap. Before she could take up where she had left off, the picture of Viktor and her caught her eye. She had never felt so guilty before in her life. 

"Damn you George," she muttered angrily to herself. Why did he have to kiss her? Was it to prove something, did he want to see if he could make her feel something, prove to his brother that he could do anything that Fred could do. But no, Hermione didn't think George would use her like that, while they weren't close friends, they definitely had a bond. "And it's not like I didn't return his kisses," Hermione closed her eyes remembering herself reaching out to him, calling him back. She quickly pulled her thoughts back together, away from George, she knew that to think of them kissing was dangerous. Every time she thought about it, she wanted to do it again, the guilt forgotten. Blushing Hermione started to read her book, trying to drive all thoughts of George from her mind. She would have been very surprised to know that upstairs, two different Weasleys were trying, rather unsuccessfully, to stop thinking of her as well.

Hermione spent the next hour sitting out on the stoop; her book lay forgotten beside her, her place lost long ago as the wind rustled the pages together. Clutched in her hand was the bookmark. She stared at Viktor's profile, his face in a broad smile as he kissed her again and again. Hermione watched as the little Hermione smiled and kissed back. A sea of faceless people surrounded them; every now and again Viktor would break the kiss to smile at the crowds. Hermione noticed the lost little girl run a hand through her bushy, brown hair, a faltering smile on her face, waiting for her love to turn to her again; which Viktor did almost immediately. But in this tiny moment of time, Hermione could feel a distant realization coming forward from the recesses of her mind. "I shouldn't be lost with Viktor, I shouldn't be so wretchedly alone the moment he breaks a kiss." Her face pale Hermione continued to study the picture, like little pieces of a puzzle, she felt her realization solidify. "I'm not in love with Viktor," she whispered to herself, not sure if she really believed the offending words. But she couldn't ignore how right they felt coming out, how true they sounded, or how that horrible little voice in the back of her mind which was so quick to disagree stayed silent. Tears welled up in her eyes, not from a broken heart, not from hers at least. Hermione tried to choke them back, she didn't want to cry over this, but they trickled down her cheeks nonetheless. With a flash and a much closer crash of thunder, the rain finally began. Great torrents came down from the sky, she stared out at the pouring rain, the small overhang above the step keeping her dry. Suddenly she was on her feet, stepping out into the yard, the elements fell upon her. Raising her head to look up at the boiling, black sky illuminated only by flashes of lightning she felt her tears become lost in the rain. The wind blew harder, but her hair was plastered to her face now, brown coils nearly black as they curled around her face, sticking to her neck and back. The rain felt like thousands of tiny needles as their cold drops struck her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and just let the rain wash over her.

"Hermione?" A near by voice brought her back to reality, a voice that she hadn't heard in a while. Opening her eyes, she struggled to see through the darkness the figure in front her. She could make out a trunk and an empty cage. 

"Harry!" She cried out in desperate happiness. Before Harry could even respond she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly. 

Harry stood startled as she clung to him; he knew she was crying he could feel her shake against him. "Hermione, what's wrong?" 

She let out a soft choking sob against his chest; the wind seemed to die down a little, enough so that he could hear her crying now.

"I'm...I'm...not in love with Viktor." She responded shakily, this confession,
to one of her best friends seemed to make this announcement official and she started to cry harder. He wrapped his arms around her and just held her, letting her cry, letting her work out all of her guilt and pain. He wasn't exactly sure why Hermione was so upset about not being in love with Viktor, she wouldn't be the one getting hurt. But Hermione knew that it would break her heart to cause Viktor pain. Harry had no idea how long they stood out in the storm, Hermione crying hard as the wind and rain swept around. Harry just stood there gently stroking her hair as she leaned against him.

"Harry? Hermione! What in the world are you doing out there? Have you both gone crazy? Get inside this instant." Mrs. Weasley's voice cut cleanly through the tempest. 

Harry stepped back from Hermione enough to look in her eyes, "are you okay Hermione? Can we go inside?"

She gave him a sheepish smile as she surveyed the drenched boy. "Yeah, I'll be okay, thanks Harry." 

Hermione picked up Hedwig's cage and Harry dragged the trunk up into the Burrow. The scene that happened after was very hectic. Hermione and Harry stood dripping in the kitchen while Mrs. Weasley voiced out commands to her sons, to get blankets, light a fire, and take up Harry's trunk. The ruckus wouldn't have been nearly as bad had Hermione remembered to tell the Weasleys that Harry was coming. No one minded, of course, Harry was always a welcome surprise. The ensuing chaos kept the Weasley's from noticing Hermione's puffy cheeks, or red eyes, and as she was dripping from head to toe, no sign of tears could be found. Soon enough things had settled back down, Harry and Hermione sat at the kitchen table, wrapped in thick woolen blankets, two bowls of chicken soup sitting before them. Ron, Fred, and George sat at the table as well while Mrs. Weasley tutted anxiously around them.

"Honestly, out in the rain like that, you'll be lucky if you don't get sick. Oh if I only had some of that cure-all-tonic."

Fred and George both looked up, they were still very wary of their mother, the thought that she might be biding her time, waiting for the right opportunity to pounce had not been far from their minds. "What happened to it Mum?" They asked quietly, trying very hard to look non-chalalant. 

"Well it was the oddest thing, I gave some to Ms. Grippa and sure enough she perked up right away. Got all rosy cheeked and happy, wonderful stuff that the Lockhart tonic is, but she persuaded me to let her keep it. Afraid of a remission I think." Both Fred and George breathed a sigh of relief, and Hermione and Ron exchanged amused glances. "You two need to eat your soup, it'll help warm you up. Really, what will I tell your families if either of you get sick?" She said gently prodding Harry and Hermione towards the steaming bowls.

"Oh don't worry Mrs. Weasley, the Dursleys would probably congratulate you for a job well done," Harry said with a quirky grin. He then turned his attention to the bowl in front of him. Not wanting to offend Mrs., Weasley he leaned over the table and asked in a hushed voice, "what is it exactly?"

"It's chicken soup Harry," Ron said, amazed at how little Harry knew about the wizarding world sometimes.

"Oh, of course, chicken soup," Harry agreed stirring it gently; Hermione grinned to herself, waiting for Harry to continue. "But um, Ron, why is it purple?"

"Well, what other color would it be?" All three Weasley boys asked looking surprised. 

Hermione burst out in a fit of giggles. She was so happy to have Harry around, it made things seem so normal. She felt like she had a buffer zone with him here. Overcome with a sudden fit of happiness, Hermione leaned over and hugged Harry tightly. He smiled at her; they made a rather funny pair, two bedraggled wizards wrapped in blankets eating purple soup. His smile fell though when he looked up, meeting Ron's eyes. The youngest Weasley son was glaring at him with something Harry almost thought was envy. Deciding that he should probably ignore the look from Ron, he turned to smile at Fred and George, only to find that George too was giving him a rather intense stare. Fred just rolled his eyes and left the table. "What in the world have I walked into here?" Harry wondered to himself, gently separating himself from Hermione who he felt could start crying at any moment. Hermione gave him a bright smile, her eyes still red, but he knew that she wouldn't cry again. 

After they had finished their soup, Harry and Hermione went upstairs to change into dry clothes. Hermione came back down in her pajamas. They joined Ron in the living room in order to catch up on things. They all sat on the floor in front of the large fireplace, together at last, the trio felt whole. With great bravado, Ron reiterated the day's adventure, from Hermione's intoxication, to the daring rescue, and the miraculous salvation of the twins. Harry was very happy for Ron, he knew that Ron never felt like he could achieve things on his own, even though Harry knew that Ron could probably do anything that he could do. Harry grinned at his two friends, it was nice for all of them to be together and not be fighting, he had worried that he would arrive and Ron would still be ignoring Hermione. Ron finished the story with a flourish, explaining the twins' practical joke in hushed tones just in case Percy or Mrs. Weasley were within earshot. Hermione, feeling a little melodramatic, suddenly threw her arms around Ron and kissed his cheek.

"My hero!" She exclaimed, smiling brilliantly at Ron, then Harry.

Harry grinned at the both of them watching Ron's ears go pink while his face went bright red. Hermione pulled back and sat down on her heels grinning from ear to ear. Suddenly the color drained out of her face.

"Oh no! My book, I left it out on the step, it'll be ruined if it gets wet." Jumping to her feet, which she regretted as her ankle twinged, she gingerly walked out of the room towards the kitchen. Harry noticed that Ron hadn't taken his eyes off of her since she had hugged him, they now followed her out of the room, staying upon her still she turned the corner. Harry wasn't exactly sure what the gleam in Ron's look was about, but he intended to find out.

"Ron, did something happen?" He asked, looking at his friend directly.

"Erm, what?" Ron's attention snapped back to Harry, "What happened?" He asked, confused.

"Did something happen with Hermione? You seem really weird around her." Harry prodded again, hoping he wasn't over stepping any bounds, he knew that Ron could be very sensitive and quick to anger. But Ron didn't get angry; instead he flushed and cast a wary glance around the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about Harry, what could happen with Hermione?" But Ron looked away as he said this. 

"Ron..." Harry began, but Ron cut him off.

"Ikissedher" he said in a low, rushed voice. 

Harry choked, "You did what?!" He was stunned, he'd had a lingering suspicion that Ron might like Hermione as a little bit more than a friend ever since the Yule Ball, but he had never considered that Ron might do something about it. "Well, don't keep me in the dark, what did she say? What did she do?"

"She, um, didn't say anything," Ron ducked his head, pointedly not looking at Harry.

"She didn't say anything? That doesn't sound like Hermione, even if she was upset about it, I figure she would give you a lecture or something." Harry felt sympathy for Ron, remembering Cho.

"She couldn't say anything," Ron said taking a deep breath, "she was asleep at the time."

Harry just sat there for a moment staring at his friend. "Oh, she was asleep, that would explain why she didn't say anything." They sat thoughtfully for a moment and then Harry voiced what they were both thinking, "does that really count then?"

Ron sighed glumly, "I don't know."

"You don't know what Ron?" Hermione's soft voice reverberated in the quiet room as she came back in carrying her book. 

Surprised, and a little worried about how much she had heard, Ron turned to Hermione and lashed out, "I just don't know why Vicky has nothing better to do with his time than send you owl after owl." He twisted the word you in a way that could only be insulting. Harry saw Hermione's eyes flash dangerously, and then he saw a soft sheen of tears start to well up, but Hermione refused to cry in front of Ron.

"Oh shut up Ron!" She yelled at him, her entire body trembling with rage or pain, Harry couldn't decide. Hermione then threw the somewhat soggy book as hard as she could at Ron. Turning she ran up the stairs trying hard to ignore the pain in her ankle.

"You handled that very well Ron," Harry said dryly. 

Ron just looked at him blankly, his face rather pale, "I didn't mean to say that. I don't know why she always makes me say things that I don't mean." 

Hermione lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling of Ginny's room; she couldn't believe how much of a prat Ron was being. "Damn you Ron, it's not fair that you can make me so mad," she growled, throwing a pillow against the wall. She didn't understand Ron, things would be fine, and then all of a sudden there would be this strange tension. She had no idea where that attack had come from, but now that she thought about it, he had been acting kind of weird earlier that day when they were going to work on the essay. She wondered if it was because of how she had acted with George. "Oh God, I don't want to think about George," she thought as she rolled over onto her stomach, but deep down part of her did want to think about George, it wanted to think about George a whole lot in fact. The rest of the Burrow had become very quiet, but there was at least one other person still awake Hermione soon discovered as someone gave a tentative knock to the door. Slipping quietly out of bed, she cracked the door open to see who it was.

"Harry, what in the world are you doing here? Why aren't you asleep? If Mrs. Weasley catches you here she'll think that you're trying to be fresh with me," Hermione grinned, at him stepping aside so that he could come into the room.

"Well I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I know that the whole Krum and Ron thing upsets you." As Harry mentioned Krum, he watched her face fall, but when he said Ron's name he saw her face darken and that dangerous spark fire across Hermione's eyes, he was very thankful that he had never experienced the brunt of Hermione's temper, that was usually reserved for Ron alone. A soft hooting noise distracted him from Hermione's emotional turmoil, "Hedwig," he whispered with a small smile. Hedwig was perched happily on the back of Ginny's chair; he got up and carefully scratched the back of her head. 

"I'm okay, it's just that Ron makes me so mad, and I don't even know why. Although I understand why he was upset when I didn't tell him that I was in Bulgaria." Hermione sighed wistfully.

"When you lied." Harry said patiently, he always seemed to be the mediator between the two. He knew that this time it wasn't Hermione's fault. She had no idea why Ron was upset, and Ron probably had every intention of keeping it that way too. 

"I didn't lie, not really, I just never mentioned that I was in Bulgaria. And now I don't know what I've done now. Harry help me, I don't understand what's wrong." She pleaded softly, picking little pieces of fluff off the quilt. 

Harry gave her a commiserating smile, "I know Hermione, it's not your fault, the Krum thing bothers Ron. I think it's because now there is yet another famous person around to remind him of what he wants to be." She just nodded at this, deep in thought. "Wow it's late, I had better go to bed, sleep well and don't worry about things." He told her as he walked to the door.

"Good night Harry," she whispered at as he left. She sat silently continuing to pick at the quilt. It was silly for Ron to be envious of Viktor. Ron was a good wizard and he had many abilities. Why couldn't Ron just be happy for her, she wondered. "Maybe," the little voice was back, "it's because you aren't happy either." Hermione let this thought turn over in her head for a while. "I'll have to talk to Viktor, I have to let him know how I feel." She started guilty down at her hand where a pretty ring adorned her finger. She could easily remember what he had said to her when he'd given it to her.

"Zhis is so you von't forget, even if zhings don't vork out. Zhis vill symbolize our friendship." 

What a strange thing to say she mused, but before she could really put much thought into it there was another knock on the door. She quickly opened the door, expecting Harry.

"Harr...George," she whispered feeling herself flush, "Wh...what are you doing out here?" She asked, feeling her breath quicken. George pushed past her into the room closing the door behind him. Hermione was feeling more and more nervous as the seconds ticked by. This scene was all too familiar.

"Are you in love with Harry?" George asked her point blank, watching her expression. Hermione just stared at him, mouthing silently like a fish out of water.

"Wh...What? Harry? Of course not, I love Harry but I'm not in love with him, he's one of my best friends. Why would you think I was in love with him?" Hermione sat on the edge of the bed facing him; he started pacing a little, he seemed oddly nervous. She watched him moved silently back and forth.

"I just saw him coming out of here. And you were being really strange earlier when he got here, just standing out in the rain like that. Yes we saw you guys from the window." He was still pacing and he was a little pale. "And earlier, with you and Ron crashing, I swear, I will never pull another prank again." He said this so firmly that Hermione believed him. Before she really knew what she was doing she had reached out and taken his hand.

"No George, don't say that. We like your pranks; you wouldn't be George without them. And nobody got hurt, not really." She had taken his hand and squeezed it with these words. She gave him a warm smile and he returned it. He raised his hand and gently traced her cheek with his fingers. He watched her pale; he could feel the air in the room change. Hermione closed her eyes feeling lightheaded as George let his fingers trace over her skin, trying to memorize her face. His fingers played gently over her lips and he soon replaced them with his own. She leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her. He ran his hands up and down her back, feeling the soft skin underneath the pajamas. He lowered his head and kissed her neck while Hermione made a sharp intake of breath and then relaxed further into his arms. They were distracted by a sudden creak from above them. Pulling away from George, she looked up at the ceiling, wishing she could see through walls. But that special gift wasn't necessary to tell her that Harry and Ron were awake. She could hear them talking in soft, muted voices. She looked at George; he stood watching her in the moonlight. She took a shaky breath, she knew that she couldn't do anything with George until she had talked to Viktor; she owed him that. 

"George, I'm sorry, but you had better go," George nodded without saying a word. 

At the door he turned back to her and whispered goodnight, gently touching her face with his hand again before he turned and disappeared into the dark hall.