𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 | 𝐡. 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟒𝟗 - 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙙, 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙧𝙚𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙊𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙖'𝙨 𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 as the moment she clapped her eyes upon Ron it was like something shifted in her, Harry's arm curled around Ophelia's waist as he pressed a kiss to her temple while she prepared to jump between them as Hermione stopped right in front of Ron, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide. Ron gave a weak, hopeful smile and half raised his arms.

Ophelia winced and shook her head frantically at Ron, he understood a split second before Hermione launched herself forward and started punching every inch of him that she could reach and winced as Hermione threw each blow, flinching she thought for a moment to step in but Harry's hand was so tight around her that she knew that even if she wanted to -- there was no way Harry was going to let her intervene.

"Ouch — ow — gerroff! What the — ? Hermione — OW!"

"You — complete — arse — Ronald — Weasley!"

She punctuated every word with a blow: Ron backed away, shielding his head as Hermione advanced.

"You — crawl — back — here — after — weeks — and — weeks — oh, where's my wand?"

Ophelia kicked it back inside the tent, "No idea."

She looked as though ready to wrestle Ophelia's tongue from in between her teeth, she made a move to dive on her which is when Harry pulled Ophelia behind him.

"Hermione!" said Harry. "Calm —"

"I will not calm down!" she screamed. Never before had he seen her lose control like this; she looked quite demented. "Give me back my wand! Give it back to me!"

"Hermione, will you please —"

"Don't you tell me what to do, Harry Potter!" she screeched. "Don't you dare! Give it back now! And YOU!"

She was pointing at Ron in dire accusation: It was like a malediction, and Harry could not blame Ron for retreating several steps while he himself felt a deep pity for his friend who was on the back foot, halfway through retreating and standing his ground.

"I know," Ron said, "Hermione, I'm sorry, I'm really —"

"Oh, you're sorry!"

She laughed, a high-pitched, out-of-control sound; Ron looked at Harry for help, but Harry merely grimaced his helplessness so he turned his attention to Ophelia.

"For what it's worth," began Ophelia, "We felt really guilty this whole time--"

"Oh and that just makes it okay does it?" snapped Hermione.

"No, it doesn't -- but you could cut us a break, we had our reasons." said Ophelia with an edge of fierceness in her voice, "I don't think we need to go over them, do you?"

Hermione's confidence seemed to falter at that but whirled around to Ron instead, believing him to be a more approachable victim. "You come back after weeks — weeks — and you think it's all going to be all right if you just say sorry?"

"Well, what else can I say?" Ron shouted as Ophelia nodded at him in encouragement, giving him a thumbs up behind Hermione's back while Harry was glad that Ron was fighting back.

"Oh, I don't know!" yelled Hermione with awful sarcasm. "Rack your brains, Ron, that should only take a couple of seconds —"

"OI!" said Ophelia loudly, while Harry, who considered this a low blow added, "Hermione, he just saved my —"

"I don't care!" she screamed. "I don't care what he's done! Weeks and weeks, we could have been dead for all he knew —"

"We knew you weren't dead!" bellowed Ron, drowning her voice for the first time, and approaching as close as he could, with only one step between them. "Harry's all over the Prophet, all over the radio, they're looking for you everywhere, all these rumours and mental stories, we knew we'd hear straight off if you were dead, you don't know what it's been like —"