DISCLAIMER: All of the characters, plots, places, and everything else Harry Potter-related belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own none of it, and I am in no way associated with the Harry Potter franchise. No copyright infringement intended.
A/N Post-DH. Ignores epilogue. Just a short fic based on the song Tonight Tonight by Hot Chelle Rae I thought of while running! It's out of character and different from my usual writing style, but it was fun to write!
A cup of pumpkin juice which had been precariously perched on the edge of the coffee table fell to the floor and shattered as Ron slammed the Daily Prophet down.
"Bloody hell," he murmured.
Reaching for his wand, he quickly levitated the mess and disposed of the broken glass with a flick of his wrist. All the while, his eyes remained glued to the two people in the photograph in front of him. The wizard and witch were dressed in formal attire. The man wore black dress robes and the woman a form-fitting red dress. They looked over their shoulders nervously before turning to each other and kissing. Afterwards, they laughed like two first years that had just gotten away with using a puking pastille to get out of Potions with Snape. Just above the nauseating scene, there was a bold, italicized, headline in all caps that read, "HARRY POTTER AND HERMIONE GRANGER SPOTTED SNOGGING OUTSIDE POTTER MANOR!"
According to self-acclaimed journalist Rita Skeeter, the two lovebirds snuck away from the celebrations during Harry's twenty-first birthday party. She knew it all along, of course. Hadn't she tried to tell everyone when they were just love struck teenagers back at Hogwarts?
Ron wouldn't have believed a word the vile woman said if it weren't for that picture. He watched three times as his ex-best mate and his soon to be ex-girlfriend kissed and laughed. Upon closer inspection he realized they were in fact at Potter Manor, and that was the night Hermione had worn the red dress he loved and told him she thought they needed to take their relationship slowly.
He stood up from the couch and paced the stretch of floor between the floo and where he had just been sitting. He locked his fingers in his wavy red hair, as he always did when he was angry. The way he saw it, he had two options. Firstly, he could apparate to Harry's house and use every bloody hex he had learned in Auror training. Then he would pay a visit to Hermione and tell her just how he felt about their relationship like she was always nagging him to do. Second, he could forget both of them and see what he could do about making his own headlines for tomorrow's paper. He stopped pacing and felt a wicked grin creep onto his face. He knew exactly what he was going to do tonight.
Later that evening…
Ron grinned as he surveyed the party taking place around him at the Leaky Cauldron, which he had booked for the entire night. He felt someone clap him on the back and turned to see Seamus Finnigan standing next to him.
"Great party, mate," he said.
"Yeah, but what's the occasion?" Dean Thomas asked as he appeared next to Seamus.
"The occasion," Ron slurred, "is cheating ex-girlfriends and backstabbing best mates."
Seamus and Dean shared a knowing look that told Ron they, too, had read the Prophet that morning.
"Are Harry and Hermione coming tonight?" Dean asked.
Ron smiled. "I hope so."
The two wizards exchanged nervous glances but raised their glasses of firewhiskey anyway as Ron did the same and shouted, "To being a single man!"
The entire bar full of former Hogwarts students cheered and raised their glasses as Neville walked by muttering, "This is a terrible idea."
Just as Ron made to grab Neville and tell him to stop being such a downer, he felt a hand caress his shoulder and suddenly caught the overwhelming aroma of what was unmistakably very cheap perfume. He turned around to see none other than Pansy Parkinson standing in front of him wearing a devilish smirk.
"What are you…" Ron sputtered. Pansy cut him off as she placed her other hand on his chest.
"You know, I always thought you were better looking than The Boy Who Wouldn't Die," she purred. "I guess I just never had the Gryffindor courage," she gave a seductive grin, "to tell you back in Hogwarts."
Even though Ron was drunk, he still wanted to cringe away from the Slytherin witch who had spent the entirety of their time at Hogwarts snogging Draco Malfoy. However, he looked directly over her shoulder at that moment and saw the horrified look on Hermione's face as she and Harry entered the bar. He locked eyes with her for just a second before turning back to Pansy and snogging her.
The next morning…
"Go away, Pig," Ron groaned and threw the closest object in the direction of the excited owl.
What turned out to be a pillow missed Pig by about a foot and seemed to only make him jump around even more. He finally started nipping at Ron's bare foot which caused Ron to finally sit up. Satisfied that Ron was awake, Pig eagerly flew out the open window.
Annoying bird, Ron thought.
He looked around to find himself sitting on his couch in the middle of his very disheveled flat. Okay, disheveled was an understatement. The flat looked like a tornado tore right through the middle of it. As he looked around and tried to remember how he ended up in such a state, he realized the pounding in his head was only growing worse as a foul smell assaulted his senses. He stood and pulled up the pillows, gripping his head the whole time, until he finally spotted the offending object. A hot pink note sat on the table in front of him where the Daily Prophet had been tossed just yesterday.
The Daily Prophet, though Ron. Oh, Merlin, no.
He picked up the note and immediately held it at arm's length as he wrinkled his nose in disgust at the strong smell of perfume. He read it aloud.
"Last night was amazing, Ronniekins! Don't forget, I'll be back tonight at 7. ;)"
Ron dropped the paper as if it were burning his hand. As the memories from the night before started rushing back, he nearly sprinted to the bathroom and groaned as a glance in the mirror confirmed the white bandage wrapped around his left, upper arm. Cringing as he did it, he slowly unwrapped the gauze to reveal what was probably his biggest mistake of the night.
Why in the name of Merlin had he let Dean convince him he should get a tattoo? And the Muggle way, nonetheless! This particular tattoo artist had apparently been just about as drunk as Ron because what began as a picture of Hermione had somehow turned into a mangled face that slightly resembled her… if you tilted to your head to the side and squinted your eyes just the right way.
Ron was going to hex every one of his ruddy friendsinto oblivion. Starting with Harry, he thought.
He stared at the mirror fuming for a few moments before finally sighing heavily. He walked back to the kitchen to prepare a potion to remedy his hangover when he spotted the hot pink note lying on the table. He shuddered as he thought of Pansy coming back to his flat.
"On second thought, I think I better go change those wards."