[ Maybe it's just Hermione and the way she's always viewed Fred, being warm and full of life, that turns her sensors off to the fact that he lacks heat and a pulse, that he lacks breath. Maybe it's the blinders caused by whatever these feelings for him are that have planted themselves within her. But she doesn't feel an animated corpse when she kisses him. She just feels a person. True, his lips hold no heat, but that doesn't matter. She feels heat. Even if it's something that comes from within herself, she feels it.

Hermione doesn't ever want to leave this moment. She knows now that it isn't just the curse. She knows it's her. Very, very much her. It just took the curse to push her to this point. She's still conflicted, still has no idea how to handle all of this, but all she knows right now is... well. Right now.

Right now with his body so close to hers, his lips against hers, the passion behind his movements. Right now with each of those movements being enthusiastically reciprocated by herself. Right now when --

When he pulls back. When he won't look at her directly for a moment. When he brushes it off and immediately dives into the familiarity of his own levity. When she feels her emotions well up and casts her glance down toward her lap. Right now when all it was to him was the curse. ]

That's all, then. Just the curse. [ They're questions, without the proper inflection. She's trying not to fly off the handle. She doesn't even know what this means - what this could mean - for either of them... For their friends, family... If Ron were to come back -

But a part of her is still very vulnerable and wants - needs - to know if that's all this really was to him. ]

It felt like -- ... Like something much -- much more powerful than a simple curse.