Hermione turned to Ron, uncertain of what to say. He merely looked back at her bearing the same expression as before. Had she been too harsh? She hadn't meant to question his worry for her. She knew he was worried; why else would he tell? It was betrayal in Hermione's eyes. She'd expected him to know that she could take care of herself.
"Er, Hermione?" Ron's voice broke through her analysis on Harry's attitude.
She whipped around, a bit more quickly than she meant to, and snapped, "What?"
Ron looked taken aback, and his face flushed a beet red. It wasn't hard for Ron to get worked up over small things, so she paid no notice to it. He took a deep breath, looking like he wanted to say something.
"Yes, Ronald?" Hermione prompted, her tone much kinder than before.
If anything, this comment made him flush even redder. He started to speak, but cleared his throat, obviously mixing up words in his head before he could voice them properly. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts, but Hermione was as patient as she could be.
When he finally spoke, it was in a shaky and unbalanced tone, like he was struggling against himself for saying it.
"Hermione – he's not the only one that cares." He choked out.
Hermione raised her eyebrows. Why was that such a difficult thing to say? He avoided looking at her, keeping his eyes trained on the wet spot from the spilled glass. She'd figured he'd said what he wanted to say. She walked to the door, ready to get home.
"He's not the only one that loves you." Ron said, just as she'd reached the door.
Her face fell, and she was glad she wasn't turned towards him. She lifted her hand from the doorknob and attempted to compose her features so the rejection didn't register. It was impossible for her to convey anything but false cheeriness, so she stuck with a rather large grin that was unlike her natural smile and prayed that he would buy it. She turned to him, fighting to keep the look of resignation from her face, and said,
"I love you, too. You've been such a good friend to me. I love having two older brothers to watch over me."
She tried to keep her tone jovial, but lost her mask as she saw Ron frown, his face more maroon than the yearly Christmas jumper from Mrs. Weasley.
"Y-yeah. That's what I mean. We have to watch out for each other." Ron stammered, avoiding her gaze again.
He'd obviously lost his nerve and didn't seem to think it was worth explaining what he actually meant, but Hermione got the idea. She hated hurting people's feelings, especially those of her best friend, but she just didn't return his affection. She did love him, but not the kind of love that sent her heart racing, her knees buckling, or any of that romance rubbish she had no time for. No; it was the kind of love she felt for her mother and father. She'd do anything for him, protect him to the best of her abilities, even finish some of the paperwork he was too tired to complete. That was as deep as her love went, even if she didn't know what real love felt like.
Of course, she everyone expected the two to get together. She was heckled by George, Molly, and Arthur about when they were going to get married. It was all joking, but she couldn't help but feel that their teasing was meant to highlight the inevitability of a relationship. Even little Teddy questioned in his high-pitched, childish voice the date of their wedding.
That was why it bothered her so much to phase him out like she was. She wasn't trying to lead him on – she was just trying to let him down easy – to know that they were fine the way they were. It wasn't even Draco that changed her mind about Ron – she'd always felt like that. Of course, back at Hogwarts she felt the sparks, but they'd long died out with the changes that came along with adulthood.
"I'll see you later – I can't wait for a home-cooked meal. Your mother's food never ceases to amaze me." She said finally, the silence becoming a bit too uncomfortable for her liking.
Ron's eyes met hers for the first time since she'd confronted Harry, and she was shocked to see how narrow they were.
"So you won't be joining dear old Draco then?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Hermione cleared her throat.
"No – Why would you ask something like that?"
He laughed, but she didn't know if it was meant to sound harsh or not. It was forced – she knew that much.
"No, I was just curious as to why you wouldn't be after how cozy you two looked. But carry on – it's none of my business." His tone indicated the end of their conversation, but the same anger Hermione lashed out at Harry was resurfacing, and she was fighting to keep herself from snapping at him.
"He's my work partner, Ron," she said slowly. "We're meant to be together some of the time, so forgive me for doing my job."
He said nothing, but shook his head slightly. Hermione didn't miss it.
"Didn't we agree we'd all keep this civil?" Her voice climbed a few octaves with her rekindled anger.
Ron's smile grew cocky, and she wondered where this newfound confidence was a few moments ago when he was warring with himself to confide his love. It'd be easier to hate someone for something than work to make yourself vulnerable, she supposed. As long as it at her expense, Ron was fine with picking a fight.
"Yeah," he agreed, his tone edgy. "We said we'd keep it civil. I don't recall the detail of us having to be friends to be civil." She started to say something, but he cut her off. "But friendship doesn't really seem to be the issue, does it?"
She spluttered, wondering if he'd seen them. No, he couldn't have. Whenever he burst in, they'd put on a good enough show. She'd never even expressed anything but hatred for Draco whenever Ron was around.
"So I'm right." He said, turning his burning gaze to a stack of envelopes on Harry's desk.
"And what are you referring to?" She inquired assertively.
He scoffed in disbelief. She wasn't sure when it happened, but the envelopes that rested on Harry's desk moments before were scattering in the air, and a few barely noticeable red lines etched into Ron's hand.
"I am so done…" Ron muttered, unaware of Hermione staring at him in disbelief.
She turned back to the door and exited the office without another word.
