A young woman sat sadly on a park bench, apparently thinking very hard. As the wind blew around her, something silvery caught her eye, and for the first time in weeks, she found herself with a trace of a smile. It was hair the ribbon she was wearing to tie her long, bushy hair away from her sad looking, somewhat smiling face. This ribbon was not so odd to her as it may appear to passers by, it carried a design that had special meaning, to her anyway. It was embroidered with teaspoons. The moment she had seen it in the store she had bought three rolls of teaspoon patterned ribbon for her hair. The store clerk must have thought her insane, but it did not matter to her, not one bit. If only he was here to see this, she thought, and at that moment felt a warm tear slide down her face. None of that, She reminded herself forcefully. She would think about something else, something happier than the sadness that had come to mind. She watched as a squirrel chased it’s friend up a tree and out of sight. She took to staring at the green grass below her, moving from one patch of grass to the next. She had been staring down for about a minute when she realized the patch of ground she was staring at was home to a pair of feet. Those feet led up to a body, and that body was-
“Harry?” she asked surprised at his appearance. “How did you know how to find me here?”
“You’ve been crying.” He stated, sitting down on the bench next to her. “it’s about Ron isn’t it?”
“Yes”
“Hermione you know you can talk to me.”
“I don’t need to talk to anyone.”
“Hermione honest-”
“Look Harry, It’s no use, he doesn’t want me, he doesn’t care for me. Every time I hint about it he changes the subject and this morning…”
“Hermione this morning he wouldn’t answer, when you asked him if he fancied you, because he’s afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Yes, he’s afraid of what everyone else will say, also he thinks that you deserve someone better, like Krum, somebody else who’s smarter, or more talented .”
“Somebody better?”
“Yes.”
“ But I want him!”
“He’s started to think he’s not good enough for you.”
“That’s stupid!”
“I know it is, so can you please go set him right.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I still say he just doesn’t want me.”
“Hermione-”
“No Harry,” and with a note of finality in her voice she stood up and Disapparated on the spot.”
Harry just sat there, stunned. He had thought that telling Hermione what was wrong would have made things better, It seemed though, that he had only made things worse. He too got up and Disapparated.
He arrived at the Burrow where he and Hermione were staying for the summer feeling thoroughly depressed.
He trooped up the front walk and into the house, closing the door with a creak behind him. Climbing the stairs two at a time he reached the attic room where he was staying with Ron. The house was very quiet. Mr. Weasley was at work, Fred and George their joke shop, Ginny, he assumed was in her bedroom, and he had spied Mrs. Weasley picking carrots in the garden for tonight’s dinner. He twisted the doorknob of Ron’s door and stepped inside.
Ron was sitting on his bed, shuffling through his Chudley Cannon player cards. Their players waved as they posed for the card picture. Ron looked up as Harry entered the room, then scooted aside so Harry could sit down as well. As Harry took his seat Ron asked sadly, “Where were you?”
“I was talking with Hermione.”
“You found her?”
“Yes she was at that park she always goes to when she’s upset.”
“I feel bad”
“Do you know what she was wearing?”
“No”
“She had her hair tied back with a ribbon, embroidered with teaspoons.”
Ron looked up, and Harry could see the sadness in his eyes, in his face.
“She was?”
“Look mate she wants you. Not Krum or anyone else, you.
“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“She tried this morning.”
“Yeah, so what”
“So you concussed troll, she really, really wants you.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” Harry said exasperatedly.
“I’m going to go talk to her then,” said Ron, happiness flooding through him.
“Ron.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you want to get her something first. Girls love things like flowers and such.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go to Hogsmeade.
“Good I need to buy something as well.”
“For a girl?”
“Maybe.”
“Harry, I thought you and Ginny broke up.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t buy her something,” he said and with the air of somebody on a mission, stepped out of the door.