A/N : Wrote this a loooong time ago and wanted to upload. Better to be read by people than to sit idly in my hard drive, right?

Please disregard my laziness and pretend there's a decent beginning when there's not. Takes place somewhere in HBP, some time after Ron and Hermione's supposed 'date'. See how thorough I am?

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. I own jack all if you must know...

Hermione crossed her arms and stared at the wall. After a moment, she dropped her arms to her side and looked at him.

"It was a date, Ron! I asked you out, okay?" Upon seeing the distraught look on his face she lowered her eyes and dropped into her seat. He made as if to move toward her but she spoke before he could do anything. "Look, it doesn't matter anymore. Just forget about it."

"No! I want to-"

"Ron?" Another voice had interrupted him and both of them turned to see who had spoken. Lavender was standing beside one of the shelves with a confused look on her face. Hermione spared her a look before picking up her quill and pretended to study from her textbook.

"Ron?" Firmer this time. "Are you coming?"

Hermione turned a page and willed herself not to look at Ron. He seemed to be standing in the same spot. Just go, she thought.

"I'll be there in a sec." She heard him say and after Lavender had left, he came around and stood on the other side of her table. She refused to acknowledge his presence until she couldn't take it any longer. Raising her eyes slightly, she looked up to meet his intense stare with a seemingly bemused one of her own.

She shook her head slightly. "Did you need something?"

"Hermione-" he hesitated and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Good, she thought. You be uncomfortable this time. She knew he was struggling to find something to say and she suddenly realised that she wanted nothing more than for him to leave her alone. She was thoroughly sick of feeling this wretched and at that moment she knew what it would take for that feeling to stop. These feelings for Ron needed to be put at rest, once and for all.

"Stop." Her voice was soft and Hermione was tired of it all. Wearily she rubbed at her forehead and stared resolutely at him. "There's nothing left to say. I'm sick of fighting and not talking to you. I'm tired, Ron. If you want to be friends again, then we're friends. Nothing more, nothing less." Her eyes never left his as she spoke and she was surprised to find that the stricken look that passed over his face did nothing to change her mind.

"Wait! But what about-"

She halted his speech with a wave of her hand. "Let's just forget any of the past month ever happened." She looked up at him and offered him a small, sad smile. "Water under the bridge."

"Hermione-" he whispered but she had returned to her book and would not look at him.

"I think Lavender's waiting for you," she said flatly without looking up. He remained standing for a moment before moving to stand next to her. The emotions she was withholding suddenly all came rushing to the surface and for one second she allowed herself to feel the full extent of them. Sensing a change in her demeanour, Ron knelt down so they were face to face. She could feel the beginnings of tears start to form in her eyes as they stared at each other, unaware of their surroundings. Very slowly, Ron raised a hand and cupped her cheek and it took all of Hermione's willpower not to lean into his touch. Instead she lowered her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. Hermione wasn't sure how many minutes had passed while they sat there staring at each other but she knew that she would be the one to turn away. She reached up, placed her hand over his and removed it from her face. She dropped his hand and turned back to her book.

"Good bye, Ron."

She heard him take a sharp breath, as if he was suddenly winded. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that his head was bent and she wondered whether he was crying. He lifted his head then and she averted her eyes, shocked at the emotion she saw on his face.

"No hard feelings, okay?" She said offhandedly, trying to sound detached but just wishing he would leave. She heard him give short bitter laugh as he stood and slowly left the room. Once she was sure he had left, she rested her head in her hands and allowed the tears to slide down her face.

Finally.