The Falling-Out

"Forty-three degrees? Ron, that's beyond exaggerating! A fever that high could leave someone with brain damage!"

Hermione stared at him in shock.

"I'm not exaggerating. Ask Neville if you don't believe me. He can back me up. And the fever wasn't even the most shocking part. It broke on its own in the middle of the night, her rash disappeared, and Snape took her back first thing this morning!"

"That's right. Everything Ron said is true. I can back him up!"

Neville answered from the next bed as he packed his things.

"Salasha is too strange. You should all stay away from her!"

Hermione had a strong feeling that the "invisible force" from yesterday afternoon had something to do with Salasha.

"That sour face of hers could stop a baby crying. I don't want anything to do with her!"

Ron spoke with open distaste.

"The trouble is, she might come after us herself. Right, Robin?" Hermione asked.

"If we can avoid her, we will. If we can't, we'll face her head-on!"

Always backing down would only embolden an enemy. Hermione smiled at his answer, then stepped forward and took Robin's hand. "We're good friends. We'll face trouble together."

Hermione had seen that Robin intended to fight alone, and she didn't want him to bear the burden by himself.

"Don't worry. If it gets too much, I'll tell you!"

Ron stared blankly at their clasped hands, his blue eyes fixed on them. His chest felt tight, and even the apple and chicken leg in his hands had lost their appeal. Perhaps he should ask Madam Pomfrey for help.

"Ron, why have you suddenly gone quiet?"

"N-nothing. This chicken leg doesn't look cooked through. It's raw inside!" Ron replied uneasily.

"Oh, Ron Weasley! A good boy shouldn't tell lies. The nutritious meals