"Maybe, but he hasn't killed anyone."
                              
"Really? Judging by his hexes, no one would know."
                              
"Blaise is just protecting his friend."
                              
"Oh! He's Blaise, now? Don't think I haven't noticed you calling Malfoy by his first name, too. You and Harry."
                              
Hermione wanted to pull her hair out, but retained her sense of decorum, unlike her best two friends. This was a never ending argument. "Can we just stop?" she snapped suddenly.
                              
"Hermione?"
                              
"I'm not going to convince you. Harry's not going to convince you. You're just going to have to figure it out on your own. You have to decide. Is your hate and lust for revenge worth losing your best friend? That's where this is going, Ron. One day, he's going to walk away and not look back."
                              
"He picked them...."
                              
"Stop, Ron. Stop blaming him. Start backing him. Start supporting him. Do you not see how much he is hurting?"
                              
Ron grimaced. Boys could never handle the hard moments.
                              
"Do you care?" she asked.
                              
"Of course, I care!"
                              
"Then think about what your actions are doing to him. Since he did tell you... or scream at you... he drunk himself into a stupor every night this summer. He closed right up and honestly I can't even reach him anymore. Do you know how hard it was to look into his dead eyes all summer?"
                              
"What the hell am I supposed to do about it?"
                              
"You could talk to him about it... civilly."
                              
"He won't talk to me!"
                              
"Hello... he was just talking to you... directly. You could have tried a little harder!"
                              
"If you can't figure it out how to talk to him, how am I supposed to?"
                              
"Really? Are you so thick-headed that you can't figure it out?" she huffed.
                              
Ron was saved the trouble of answering when the Slytherin trio entered the common room. Blaise was leading his friends and turned to her. 
                              
"Is Draco here?" he said, hoping she had the right answer.
                              
"Yes. Harry found him and brought him back. They did... get him... again."
                              
Blaise straightened and turned his brown eyes to the stairwell, but looked back at Ron, narrowing his eyes. "You let it happen, again?"
                              
"For your information, I was tied up defending him, Slytherin," Ron sneered.
                              
"Watch it, Weasley. I wouldn't hesitate to hex you. Being Potter's friend only gives you so much leeway."
                              
"I'm not a sodding Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw! Don't think that I can't defend myself!"
                              
"Don't give me a reason to test your words, then, Gryffindor," Blaise growled and both he and Nott walked to the stairwell up toward their room.
                              
"Yeah, right."
                              
Daphne gave Ron a disparaging look. "I'll be in our room, Hermione."
                              
"Luna's already gone up," she said and Daphne nodded and left.
                              
"And you wonder why I hate Slytherins?" Ron growled.
                              
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do think about your choice, Ron. I'm going to bed, too."
                              
"Hermione... I... just...."
                              
"Just what, Ron? What to keep arguing?"
                              
"I love you," Ron said, his blazing blue eyes stared at her. She didn't doubt his words for a second.