cigarette burns

Radio Silence

Asterin and Hermione had set themselves up in a corner of the Slytherin common room, occupying an armchair each and reserving a third for Draco by piling their textbooks on it. With it only being two weeks before the start of their exams, no one in their right mind would dare challenge an eighth year, so they were fairly safe to keep it. "It's gotta be good, right? that he's had meetings with McGonagall three times since I dragged him over there?"

Hermione didn't look up from her book with a Latin name that Asterin didn't recognise. Her mother would be horrified. "I'm not going to pretend to know Draco at all, never mind well enough to answer that question with any amount of certainty or accuracy."

She scoffed, "you heard Harry Potter talk about him enough, weren't you listening?"

Laughing, Hermione shook her head, "I was always the brains. Harry never knew what he was talking about, not really; he just said it with enough authority that most people believed him. Some believed him because he was backed by me and Dumbledore. I never listened to a word either of them said."

"I'm assuming you're referring to Ron when you say 'either of them'."
Hermione simply raised an eyebrow at Asterin before turning back to her book.
"Good to know. Anyway, how is Ron, you two doing ok?"

"Yeah." Hermione gave a weak smile."

"Oh, that didn't sound convincing," Asterin leaned forward, frowning in concern. "What's going on?"

She sighed softly, "he's not... I haven't heard anything from him in a couple of days, and Gin says it's been the same radio silence from Harry, and she's not too worried, but...

"But you're worried about Ron."

"And Harry."

Asterin smiled. "You're always worried about Harry, and I'm not surprised considering he sees death and runs straight towards it. But he's not your boyfriend. You're allowed to be more concerned about your boyfriend."

Hermione nodded, not quite meeting her gaze, not quite allowing herself to relax.

"Ok, look: the three of you have been getting in and out of trouble, defying death, laws, and school rules since you were eleven, and in all those years the worst Ron's ever been hurt was a badly mauled leg in third year. You're all like protected by some higher power or something to be able to get away with it all with bumps and bruises."

Hermione hummed in disagreement, "he got splinched once when we were on the run."

"Oh wow," Asterin rolled her eyes, voice dripping with sarcasm, "that makes me rethink my whole speech! No, really though, I'm sure he's fine. You watch, he'll turn up any day with barely a scratch and the best explanation you've ever heard."

Hermione smiled, relaxing a tiny bit, "I hope so. I miss him, a lot."

"I know. You feeling ok?"

"Yeah," she smiled, "a little. Thank you."