Hermione isn't an idiot. She knows Ron is stalling breaking up with her when he doesn't see her for the rest of the weekend, and then on Monday, he doesn't meet her before Potions.

When lunch rolls around, she scopes out the table inds him sitting with Harry, like usual. She walks up to them in the middle of a heated argument over Quidditch, and stands there, waiting for one of them to notice her. Finally she clears her throat and Ron bothers to stop his stupid gushing and acknowledge her existence.

"Hermione." He doesn't look pleased to see her, and he gives Harry this weird look before he stands. "Hi."

"Hi," she says. She reaches up to kiss him on the lips, but he turns his face and she winds up pecking his cheek. It's awkward.

Ron clears his throat and drops his voice. "Can we, uh-- can we talk?"

And he doesn't even wait for her to answer before he grabs her elbow and steers her all of ten feet away from Harry, who is doing that thing where he pretends not to be eavesdropping but obviously is.

"I think-- I think this isn't really working. With us." He pauses, purses his lips and blows out this long-suffering sigh, like this is just so hard on him. "We're not really heading in the same direction. I like you, I do, but-- we want different things. Do you get what I'm saying?"

He's speaking slowly, looking at her like he doesn't think she's capable of comprehending what he's saying.

"Just save it, Ronald, okay?" she scoffs, and sweeps past him.

She sits down a few seats away and takes a few bites of her meal. That's long enough to make it look like what just happened was not really upsetting, which it sort of was, so when she leaves, it's a nonchalant exit, not like she's trying to get away as quickly as possible or something.

She keeps her chin high as she walks out, but she's not paying attention and knocks shoulders with some pimply-faced first year and almost knocks her books.

"Excuse me," she snaps, and pushes out through the doors into the sunny afternoon.

Once she's outside, she cracks, just a little. She doesn't cry or anything, but her stomach is tied in knots and queasy, and she is breathing harder than she should be. Getting dumped sucks, even if it's by someone you didn't even really like that much and you saw it coming a million miles away.

And she really didn't like Ron, that much. Yeah, he's cute, but only in a generic way, if you think about it, and he was more interested in hanging out with her Harry all the time instead of, say, giving her orgasms.

She's better off, for sure.

Hermione leans up against the wall and focuses on arranging her body position so she looks casual, indifferent. No way in hell is she going back inside; and she can't even hide out with Ginny, since she didn't even show up today, surprise surprise, is probably out having sex with her boyfriend.

Not that Hermione has an issue with the sex in theory, but she could really use her best friend right about now.

Not that she's thought of Ginny as her best friend in awhile, truth be told.

"What's wrong with you, Granger?"

Hermione jumps, startled. Whips around to see Malfoy, standing there and smirking at her in his usual Draco way.

She glares at him. "What do you want?"

"I just saw you. Leave, I mean," he says, haltingly. "You looked sick."

Dammit. She was not supposed to look upset. She was supposed to look like she didn't care, at all. Which she doesn't. Mostly.

Hermione frowns. "I'm not, okay? I'm--"

She stops. She's not supposed to be telling him this at all. It's Malfoy and especially when she is upset. Not over Ron, just--over everything. Everything.

"Your day must have been sucking pretty hard." She looks over at him with raised eyebrows. "You don't skip class, like, ever."

"Not the best day ever, no," he responds, "Not that it's any of your business."

"What, trouble in paradise?"

Draco winces perceptibly.

"She's not…" He trails off and shrugs. "We're not."

Hmm. There's an interesting development.

Hermione starts for the common room and reaches into her book bag. She waves before she reaches the door, because she sees Harry and Ron heading in her direction.

They're deep in conversation as they walk, heads bent close together, Harry's armful of books waving around wildly to emphasize some point of his, Ron's hair flopping as he shakes his head in disagreement. Finally, Harry happens to glance up and sees her standing outside of Gryffindor Tower. He stops in his tracks and stares.

"Hermione?" He blinks.

"Harry," she says coolly.

She says the password quickly and then lets her gaze flick up and down over Ron.

He looks sheepish, and confused, and like the idiot he is. Seriously, he is an idiot. Who does he think he is, dumping her? Hermione knows that she is hot, and smart, and awesome, and he was lucky that she even bothered to date his lame ass in the first place. What a moron. But what did she expect? He's a guy, so that's not the shocker of the century or anything.

Without waiting for a response, Hermione squares her shoulders, shifts her bag onto her shoulder and saunters straight past them. It takes pretty much all of her personal restraint not to look over her shoulder.

That doesn't, however, stop her from grinning ear-to-ear the whole way up to her dorm room. Score one, Hermione Granger.