Hermione was sitting on the couch in the main room of her flat, skimming through The Daily Prophet, which she'd already read about 5 times that day. She was trying not to look at her journal, laying there on her coffee table completely useless. There was yet to be a response from Ron regarding her question, and it worried her. Half-way through the conversation she'd considered dropping the subject altogether and telling him it didn't matter.
But it did matter, which is why she pushed all her worries aside to try to get through to him. Now, however, as she sat in silence, every possible ending to this was creeping into her mind. More specifically the ones that ended badly. Like this causing an awkward air to forever hover over their friendship, or, even worse, an end to their friendship. Her intention had not been to scare him away. Hermione sighed, folding the paper up and walked into her bedroom.
Scattered all over her dresser, neatly placed, were pictures from school and after of her, Ron, Harry, other friends and family. She folded her arms and tilted her head, looking at him. Had she just jeopardized all this? Kind of, but then again, before she said anything she'd felt like she was going to burst open most of the time, so it was really a lose-lose situation. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Hermione heard a knock on her front door. She paused, then walked back into the main room and over to it.
Looking through the small hole in her door, she saw the familiar frame of a familiar red head. Oh dear. She thought, not sure what was about to happen. Taking in a deep breath, Hermione opened the door. Ron was standing there, looking anxious and a little flustered. She gave a small smile. "Hi, Ron." Was all she could muster up.