CH-19

He shifts his feet awkwardly. "I know that I've been a bit of an arse about… well, about everything. But I just… sometimes I wish things didn't end the way they did between us," he says.

Oh, for goodness' sake. It's been over two years since we broke up. I don't even know what to say to that. I've been over him since I got back from Rome with Harry and Blaise.

When I don't reply, he continues, "But erm, I know that you haven't felt the same way in… in a long time."

At least he knows.

"I've been pretty bitter toward Zabini ever since you and Harry brought him back. I… it's just that I felt… replaced. Harry chose to go with you instead of staying with me, and when you two brought back a third person with you—"

"Oh Ron, why is this still bothering you, after all this time? Why couldn't you talk about it before?"

"Just let me get it out, all right?"

I sigh. "Go ahead."

"The reason why I'm bringing it up now is… it's because I just want to tell you that I'm going to try to be better about that. I still don't like Zabini, but… well, he's friends with you and Harry now, and I guess I just want to say that I'm going to try my best to get along with him."

"That's good to hear," I say.

He walks over to me and picks up my right hand in both of his, gently running his thumbs over the back of it. It's something he used to do when we were together, and I slowly pull my hand away.

"You know, I… I still feel like we were meant to be together," he says.

Um, what? "I thought you agreed with me that it was time—" I begin to say.

"No, no. I only said that because I could tell that you didn't feel the same anymore. I thought that maybe if you spent some time away from me, you would eventually remember all the good things, and you'd rediscover your feelings for me."

"Ron, I can't—"

"I've never stopped loving you, Hermione."

I shake my head at him. "Ron, I don't feel—"

"I know, I know," he says. "I'm just… I'm sure that it'll work out eventually."

"Please don't think that way, Ron. We already had a chance, and it didn't work out. We can be friends, but nothing more," I say. I feel bad for trying to crush his hope, but he won't be able to move on if he can't accept that we're really over.

He smiles. "It's all right, Hermione. I just wanted to say that I'll try to change, for you."

I don't want him to change for me. I want him to change for himself, for everyone else, for anyone but me. Why doesn't he see that there isn't anything left between us?

But this is taking up so much time, and I want to stay at Blaise's side.

"Thank you, then," I say quietly. "But honestly, you already know that I've moved on."

"I know."

He exits the room without another word, and I wonder if I've hurt him too much. But he should have been over this long ago. I hear his footsteps going up the stairs, and I wonder who he's going to talk to. I doubt the twins would be much help to him—they only ever tease him. Maybe he just wants to be alone.

I exit my room and cross the hall, entering the boys' room.

"He hasn't woken up yet," Harry reports.

He's sitting next to Ginny on his bed.

"Thanks," I say. "You two don't have to stay here, if you don't want to. I'll call you if I need anything."

"Oh, Lupin came over. Tonks wasn't home—left as soon as she got home to get in touch with Mundungus. I told him about Blaise, and he took a look at him," Harry says.

"Where is he now?"

"He went to the kitchen to make some more Antidote," Ginny replies.

"All right, then. So he didn't see anything wrong with Blaise?" I ask.

"No, he said Blaise is going to be fine," Harry says, smiling at me.

He gets to his feet and takes Ginny's hand to lead her out of the room. He looks between me and Blaise before exiting the room. The door swings closed, and I hear the lock click into place—Harry must have locked it from the outside.

I sit down on the side of Blaise's bed and reach out to cup his cheek with my hand. His skin is very warm and smooth. His breaths are slow and even.

Lupin thinks he'll be fine… that's good enough for me.

Then I feel a burning sensation on my chest and jump, surprised. Damn, it's that charm.

I turn away from Blaise and pull it out from beneath my shirt to look at it, holding it by the chain so that I won't be burned again. The time and date that had been etched there before slowly disappear before my eyes.

When nothing new appears, I frown and turn the charm around. On the opposite side, two capital letters have appeared in elegant, curvy script.

HG

My initials.

What the hell is Malfoy up to?

I sit down on the edge of Blaise's bed.

Harry's gone into my room to have some time alone with Ginny. It's not hard to guess what they're doing in there. Charlie showed up early in the morning and took Ron away to Shell Cottage because Mrs. Weasley wanted to see him. At least, that's what Harry told me—by the time I woke up this morning, Ron was gone already.

According to the boys, Blaise didn't wake up at any point last night. I know that it'll take some time for his body to heal, but it still worries me that he hasn't regained consciousness. I'm itching to use Rennervate on him, but it's healthier to let him wake up naturally.

I had the boys help me put him under the covers last night before leaving to go to bed. His right hand—his wand hand—rests above the blanket, on his chest. I pick it up gently and pull it into my lap. The smooth, dark skin is broken by a few thin scars. This hand has saved my life several times in the past two years.

I look at his face and wish he would open his eyes. It hasn't really been long since I gave him the Antidote, so it's not strange that he hasn't woken yet. But I still can't help wishing…

I look back down at his hand and clasp it between both of mine. His big hands are always so warm.

"Love you too."

At the sound of his voice, my eyes fly to his face and see that his gaze is fixed on our hands.

"Did I wake you?" I ask, choosing to ignore his statement.

He smiles. "Yeah. Thanks for keeping my hand warm."

I shake my head and start to release his hand, but it tightens around mine.

"But no, seriously," he says. "Thanks. For saving my life."

"I owe it to you," I reply with a small smile.

Our eyes meet for a moment, and I can't look away.

He grins. "Keep staring at me like that, and I'll start thinking you really have a crush on me."

I laugh at him and look down at our hands. He's still holding my hand, just tightly enough so that I can't brush him off.

"You were supposed to be tracking the movements of Death Eaters in Liverpool, weren't you?" I ask. "How did you get poisoned?"

He sighs, amusement fading from his face. "Yeah, about that… I was stupid."

"What happened?"

"I sat down with a man—well, let me start over. I saw a man surrounded by a group of wizards, so I helped him out and Stunned his attackers. He offered to buy me a drink, so I went with him. He was a local. I figured I could ask him if anything strange had been happening lately."

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