They were fighting again.
This was bound to be another one of those Holidays and no one in household enjoyed it.
But there was little they could do for it. Screaming at the pair was somewhat counterproductive as screaming was the thing they were all trying to avoid. Speaking calmly to them was a silly idea for neither of them (nor the person doing the calm talking) could hear a word of it—over the screaming of course. The best idea anyone had come up with was just to ignore it and act as if the walls were much thicker.
This was hardest on Molly, "There's no reason for them to scream like that," she would mutter under her breath, trying her best to be that calm talking person. She waved her wand harder than she meant to and the dishes began to wash themselves with such gusto that some of the paint on the good dishware wore off.
As soon as the dishes were put away, she turned on her husband as if he was the reason for the noise upstairs, "I am going to talk to them!" she said threateningly, "There is no reason for this! They can learn to control themselves! It is Christmas for goodness sakes!"
"I wish you all the best of luck, Mum," Fred said as he dipped his hand into the basin of sugar on the counter one more time and licked his fingers clean.
His twin wasn't quick enough and before George could even make a reach for it, Molly had summoned the basin into her hands with again such anger that she nearly dropped it. "Stop that!" she barked, "I don't need your dirty hands all over the sugar! That's disgusting, Fred! You get your spit all in the sugar! Everyone will get your germs! For goodness sakes!"
"Sorry, Mum, but I'm a working man now. I need to keep up my strength," Fred laughed.
The argument was broken by the static of the radio in the living room and then finally a strong signal came through and Celestial's voice filled the airwaves again. Though only a bit, this gesture seemed to have settled Molly down. Still clutching her sugar, she walked to the living room and saw her youngest and only daughter working the dials and turning it up.
"It's ridiculous, isn't it, Ginny?" she asked.
"It's very ridiculous," Ginny knew how to play this game and before long Molly was seated in her chair with her feet up while Arthur was next to her with two cups of hot butter cider for the two of them. The Christmas season, it seems, had set in and the Weasley's and their guests were relaxed with the music turned up so loud that no one could hear Ron and Hermione's battle raging upstairs.
"It's disgusting!" Ron hated how she drew out syllables like that. Dis-guhhhhh-sting. It was so stupid and it made him feel like she was spelling out the word for him as if he were too thick to catch if it she said it too quickly.
"You don't understand it, Hermione. She has a kind of…affect on us. It has nothing to do with me!" for good measure he threw in one last tidbit, "I don't see why you care so much."
Hermione's face burned fire engine red, "You can control it! You just choose not to! And I'm only pointing it out because it only proves how dim witted you're being about the whole thing! She doesn't seem to affect George or Fred or your dad or Kingsley or-"
"Believe me, she does! They are just better at hiding it than I am. Fleur is a veela, Hermione. It's like…in her genes to make blokes' heads turn. It has to happen. I don't want it to-"
"Hah!"
"I don't! How do you think it looks for me to be chasing after Fleur when I've got…" but Ron stopped short. There was a certain L word that never got mentioned whenever Hermione was around—at least not as long as Ron valued his life.
"…when I've got…lots of stuff to do!" he covered. Ron patted himself on the back for that one. That was quite a good save if I do say so myself, he thought.
"Lots of stuff to do?" Hermione rolled her eyes, "Like what?"
"…homework…"
"Oh, yes. I can see where you'd much rather be doing homework than staring at good old Phlegm!"
"Don't call her that!"
"I thought you didn't like her!"
"I don't! But you can't go calling people stuff like that! It's rude!"
"So when you called Neville a 'ruddy pumpkin head'-"
Ron couldn't help but laugh, "First off, that's Neville. Second off, it's true. And third off-"
"You're a silly boy who can't help but look at the pretty girl when she walks by. Simply can't help yourself."
"I told you! She's not a normal girl! She's a veela!"
It would continue on like this for some time and eventually the landing four floors up would no longer be quite the right place to have this argument. At one point, feeling like she had won, Hermione began to retreat to the ground level, hoping to join the rest of the festivities down there. Ron only followed her and forced her to stop so they could have a good fray on the third level landing. This would occur for the second landing as well. Finally when they reached the floor and were just within earshot of the living room, Hermione was nearly in tears.
She wiped her nose on her sleeve and attempted to regain her composure, "You're just vain, Ron! You don't know anything about girls!"
"Again, I don't see why you care so much! It's not like I'm marrying her! Talk to Bill if you have a problem with it!"
"Bill is just as bad as you," she sighed, "He's not marrying her for love! He's marrying her for…for…"
"For?"
"For…beauty and prettiness. It's all so…vain. Vile. If Bill had half a brain, he would take his mother's advice and give a second at Tonks!"
"Tonks?" Ron wasn't as surprised as he sounded; Hermione had been playing this card all night. Somehow she felt it was perfectly even playing ground to put Tonks in the same league as Fleur.
" Get off of that, Hermione! She's a great person! She's fun and nice and smart but I told you—no guy in his right mind would choose Tonks when Fleur is around!"
"What makes you say that?"
Both Ron and Hermione jumped at the calm voice that suddenly sprang from the doorway. Lupin wasn't necessarily smiling but he wasn't frowning either. His face was curved into a kind of expressionless manifestation. Hermione noticed that there was something very forced about his face.
"…I…well…I just…" Ron stammered as he looked for words. Finally a genuine man had come to his rescue to assure this silly woman that anyone with testosterone running through them was and would always be victim to a vela. However Ron suddenly realized that he didn't know if Lupin would back him on this one. He couldn't distinctly remember a time that Lupin had fallen into Fleur's trap but he was at the end of a day a man and no man (and Ron repeats no man) could resist a siren's call. It had nothing to do with him; it had everything to do with the power of the actual creature.
"Well…she's just so…beautiful!" Ron finally blurted out, "She's a veela and-"
"And Ron just can't help himself…" Hermione scoffed with a smile.
"…shut up…" Ron whispered between gritted teeth, "It has nothing to do with me. She has a kind of power over us-"
"Does she now? Oh, honestly, Ron, the longer you use that excuse, the longer-"
"It's not an excuse! It's the truth!" desperately, he turned to Lupin, "You know what I mean, right? You know the affect she has on us!"
"Don't answer that!" Hermione snickered, "Don't even humor him."
"Let the man talk, Hermione! You'll find you don't know everything!"
"I'm only protecting you from embarrassment, Ronald."
"Don't call me that! That's what my mum calls me!"
"Ronald?"
"Don't call me that! And you don't have to protect me from anything! It's the truth!"
"Ronald is your name, isn't it?"
"That's beside the point! The point is you don't bloody know everything! In fact you don't know any blood thing!"
"Just because you can't control yourself…" Hermione didn't even have to finish. She laughed and looked away as if she had won.
"You two fight like you're together or something," Lupin gave a weak smile.
And for the first time all that Holiday there was silence between Ron and Hermione. The tops of Ron's ears went bright red and Hermione's cheeks were suddenly on fire. Their eyes only met once before Hermione threw her arms in the air, darted up the stairs again and stomped all the way to her and Ginny's room. Flustered more than anything, Ron gave a wry look to Lupin.
In a much smaller voice but still determined to prove he was right, Ron asked again, "You know what I mean, right? I mean…you would pick Fleur over Tonks, right?"
What little grin was on Lupin's face faded away and he was abruptly more somber than Ron had ever seen. His face was poignant but his voice was certain, "No, I would choose Dora."
With that Lupin tightened his robe, gave a nod to Ron, turned and left the Weasley house.
"Bloody hell…" Ron kicked the edge of the stair swiftly, "Man's a bloody lunatic anyway…"