The Crystal Yule Ball
The Yule Ball, thought Ron, as he stood in the midst of dancing couples in the Great Hall. I could've sworn we had one of these last week…
He looked about at the other Ball goers to see if they were questioning the timing of this new event. He then shrugged off his confusion upon noting that everyone else was just dancing and having a good time. He put it down to merely having had too many sweets.
He began his way through the myriad of dancers in search of Harry, who he knew was also relatively dateless. They had taken Padma and Parvati as dates at the last minute, and neither girl seemed very interested in spending time with either of them. At least he had an excuse for the scornful looks Padma had given him, he thought, as he looked down at his hideous maroon dress robes.
As he was moving towards the tables set along the wall, like a beacon of maroon in a glamorous sparkling sea, he felt the air in the room change. Everyone had stopped. They were turning. They were looking in his direction.
"Oh, bloody Hell…why did my mother buy this disgusting thing!" Ron exclaimed loudly in defense of his appearance, though nobody seemed to heed him.
It took no time for him to realize that they were looking past him to the big wooden doors, which were slowly opening. A gleam like a bright star could already be seen shining through the ever expanding gap.
Ron felt his chest tighten as he saw the most beautiful girl in the world walk through it. She wore an elegant blue dress, and…
Hang on, thought Ron, that's Hermione! His jaw dropped, but was soon replaced with a grimace as he saw her closely followed by Viktor Krum.
Everyone went back to dancing, whispering to each other.
Ron shambled over to the tables, hands thrust deep into his robe pockets to keep his clenched fists hidden.
Harry was at one of the tables, along with their disgruntled and much neglected dates. The girls were having a field day talking about Hermione's transformation from a bookworm to a butterfly.
"And did you see her hair?" exclaimed Parvati to Padma.
"I know – no wonder she was hogging the girls' bathroom for so long!" her sister giggled.
"How do you think she got a date with Krum? She's usually so plain. Perhaps she knocked him out with a book and then put a charm on him or something," sniffed Parvati sourly. "Do you think if I cut in I could get a dance with him?"
"Probably, Parvati. You're much, much prettier than Hermione. If you do get to dance with Krum, make sure you bring him over here afterwards so I can meet him," gushed Padma.
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who didn't seem to notice. He was too busy watching Cho dance.
Luckily Ron's boredom was soon relieved by the appearance of Hermione at their table.
"Hi, Ron, Hi, Harry," she said excitedly, looking from Harry to Ron. Ron looked back at her with a jaded look on his face. Harry still was starring determinedly at the dance floor. She waved a hand in front of his face.
"Harry! Hi! You boys really know how to have a good time, don't you?" she added sardonically.
"Sorry, Hermione. Nice dress," said Harry fleetingly, before glancing back at the dance floor.
"Yeah, um…you look really nice," Ron added. "So…where's Vicky?"
"Ron! Stop calling him that!" She growled, then added in a lighter tone, "It's hot in here, so he's gone to get us some Butterbeers - hey, where are you going?"
Even though Ron had asked her about Viktor he didn't want to hear any answer except maybe 'He's spontaneously combusted whilst twirling like a nancy on the dance floor'. He couldn't bear to hear her talk about him in the saccharine way that Parvati and Padma had been. He had to put an end to this. Now.
"Ermm..bathroom," Ron lied as he got off his chair hurriedly, "I'll be right back, yeah?"
"Oh. Okay," said Hermione, sitting down to try and squeeze a conversation out of Harry.
It took no time for Ron to navigate the crowd to get to the stretch table of delicious snacks and beverages, and sure enough - there was Viktor Krum…trying to get a couple of Butterbeers whilst being surrounded by a number of fans.
Scowling, Ron pulled Krum aside.
"Sorry," he said unapologeticaly to the cluster of fans, "you can have him back in a moment. Look Krum," he began, cornering Krum between the table and the big doors. "Hermione's my friend, and if anything happens to her….if you even touch her, you'll regret it, mate." He sounded so fierce, he even surprised himself.
Krum however, obviously used to altercations on the Quidditch Pitch, took it in stride and replied curtly, "You haff no need to vorry, Hermy-own-ninny vont come to any harm on holiday vith me."
Ron could feel his face glowing as he tried so hard to keep his hands from shaking. They were balled into tight fists and all he wanted to do was to connect them with Krum's smart arse mouth.
"RON!" It was suddenly deathly silent as Hermione rushed past him to help Krum who was on the floor. "Viktor, are you alright?"
It had all happened so fast…Krum falling, Hermione screaming, everyone turning to look at the commotion, and the stern voice of Professor Snape over it all.
"Did I just punch Viktor Krum?" he heard himself say in a broken voice. But he didn't really need to answer himself. His sore knuckles were testament enough.
"WEASLEY!"
"Ron – what is wrong with you?" cried a tearful Hermione over the din of everyone in the school.
"Um…" began Ron, looking first at his fist, then at the bloody-lipped Krum who was struggling to his feet.
He knew he should be wary of the look Krum gave him, and of the imposing figure of Snape that now appeared before him. But he felt angry, and a little confused. There wasn't room left for any other emotions, not even when Hermione ran out of the Great Hall in tears.
"Well, Weasley… I hope you are looking forward to next term," Snape hissed slowly, toying with the words in his mouth before they escaped his curled lips.
"I have plenty of old potion jars that I need cleaned. Everyday after school for a week should do it, and I'm sure Professor Karkaroff can find work for you around the ship the week after…"
"Yeah, whatever," grumbled Ron angrily, as he walked away from Snape in mid-speech.
"Right, Weasley, you've just earned yourself another two weeks detention! And where do you think you're going, Potter? As guest of honour you can't possibly do us the disservice of leaving mid-Ball."
"But Sir – " began Harry, who had rushed over to see what had happened.
"Let him go, Harry," interjected Dumbledore who had softly appeared from seemingly nowhere. "I think young Mr. Weasley has much to think about as it is."
Ron walked. He didn't know what else to do. He was so consumed with anger at Krum's arrogance.
So he just walked.
Sometimes through the deserted castle.
Sometimes through the snow outside.
He didn't care.
At one point he found himself in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where he stared at himself in the mirror. An angry, lanky, red haired young man in filthy dress robes stared back at him.
He splashed water on his face and kept walking.
As such, he was surprised to be suddenly asked a password. He realized his feet had bought him to the Gryffindor common room.
"Half-moon," he grumbled, and entered, after a scolding from the Fat Lady about good manners.
He slammed the portrait hole closed behind him, and was himself startled to see someone jump in fright. Hermione was sitting sideways in a window box, her knees tucked under her chin. She turned back to monitoring the snowfall upon seeing him.
Ron couldn't help but notice that she still looked gorgeous, even with tears glistening on her cheeks, and her hair down and flowing about her shoulders. His heart melted on the spot. It felt awful to see her cry and know it was his fault.
"H-Hermione…I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened to me…"
She didn't even look at him, nor did she move over in the window box to make room for him as he came closer.
"Look…I'm sorry. It was like someone was using my body and I couldn't stop them."
She looked at him, with fresh tears shining in her eyes.
"But it was me," he said in a cracked voice, "My fault. I'm sorry…" he trailed off as she turned away and resumed looking out of the window.
"How's Viktor?"
"I don't know. I stormed off. I'm sure he's okay. I think I got the worst deal…a throbbing fist and twenty billion years of detention between Snape and Karkaroff," he sighed, for the first time thinking rationally about what had happened. "Not to mention Mum's inevitable Howler…"
"Ron!" snapped Hermione, her head whipping round to face him, "You punched him!"
"Well…yeah. But like I said, I couldn't stop myself."
"But why, Ron? I know you don't like him very much, but that's no reason to punch someone!"
Ron knelt down on the ground by the window box, resting his arms on the cushion by her feet and put his head in his hands. His heart ached when she scrunched herself up in the window box, least he touch her.
"He said you were going to stay with him for the holidays." He looked up at her imploringly, "Hermione – is that true?"
Hermione stared out the window again. "Well, he asked me, yes. But I told him I needed to think about it. You and Harry would have been the first to know if I chose to go."
She turned back to him, "What I don't understand is why he told you that at all. How did you even end up talking to him? You usually avoid Viktor – I've seen you do it, Ron."
Ron burrowed his head into his lacy sleeves. Hermione gasped, "You went looking for him, didn't you? Why?"
Ron said something muffled by lace and old velvet.
"What?"
"I told him I'd hurt him if he ever upset you," he said reluctantly, face still hidden.
"And then you punched him after he replied that I was staying with him for the holidays?"
The red head nodded.
"Honestly Ron! You could have really hurt him!"
"I don't care about Krum."
"Ron!" squeaked Hermione. "You made him bleed!"
"I know….but he deserved it."
"RON!"
"I only care about you, Hermione. Always have, I think." Then looking up and grinning shyly he added, "I really should be kicking my own arse right now for making you cry."
There was a big pause. Hermione was, for once, speechless. She looked somewhere between shocked and confused. Ron buried his head back into his hands and hoped she'd say something. Anything. Relief filled him when he heard Harry's voice.
"Are you both alright? Neville, Ginny and I've been looking for you two…but I didn't think I'd find you here. Or together."
"Yes, thanks, Harry," Hermione said as she wiped away the evidence of tears from her cheeks. "How's Viktor?"
"Oh, he's fine. If anything his fan club has gotten bigger," he grinned.
"Good. Well, I'm off to bed then," sniffed Hermione, obviously still trying to hold back a stray tear or two. "'Night Harry. Goodnight, Ronald."
"'Night, Hermione," Harry replied as she ascended the staircase and slammed the girls' dorm room door.
"'Night, 'Mione," mumbled Ron from his robes.
"Ron – what happened tonight?" Harry began as soon as Hermione was out of range. "Why did you punch Viktor?"
"I couldn't help it. The way he talked about Hermione just made me so mad - stupid git. I don't really remember punching him. It was weird. He was talking, and then he was on the floor bleeding."
"Ron…you and Hermione have always been sort of…erm..."
"What?... fighting?" He stood up to face Harry.
"No. No…well, sort of...Ron, you aren't jealous of Krum, are you?"
"Me? No mate, no. I – I don't think so, anyway," began Ron, "I just need to control my fists of fury!"
Harry laughed, "Oh, right then. If I need a bodyguard, I know who to call! I'm off to bed then…you coming?"
"Nah. I think I just want to be alone for a bit," sighed Ron, "'Night."
Ron, after a bit of quiet contemplation and a lot of self-berating, sprung into action. He rushed to his room and got dressed in whatever was closest - scruffy corduroy pants and an even scruffier knitted jersey, woolen hat, a maroon scarf and matching singular glove, (the other wouldn't fit onto his swollen, raw fist).
He was glad that Harry was asleep, as he didn't want to have to explain to him why he was going for a walk with his broom.
After a planned detour he flew to what he hoped was the Gryffindor fourth year girls' room. He pulled his brown and yellow woolen hat down determinedly, his red hair falling into his eyes.
He flew closer to the windows to ascertain whether or not he had the right location, but he couldn't see through the frosted windows.
"Damn it," he muttered and flew closer to the outer window ledge and lifted the ear flap of his hat to listen hard. He tried to brace his jaw to stop his teeth chattering.
He could hear what he fancied to be the sound of pages being turned, and sniffing. This was confirmed when he heard the thud of a heavy tome being slammed shut, (Hogwarts: A History no doubt, he thought), and then muttering.
It was definitely Hermione. He had been going to just knock on the window and ask forgiveness, but she sounded really angry. He even considered going back to bed until he realised exactly what she was saying.
"This whole situation is so difficult with Ron and Viktor. It's just so…so illogical. There's no formulae, no maps or texts to follow. I never thought that books would let me down!"
Ron smiled at this and filed it away in his mind for later.
"Why would Viktor jump to a conclusion like that? I told him I needed to think about it. Was he just bragging to taunt Ron?"
There was a pause filled by more sniffing. Was she crying again?
"And Ron…where to begin? What he said about protecting me was really sweet, but I still can't believe he punched Viktor. And at the Yule Ball, too! Prat."
Ron grimaced.
"Perhaps Ron likes me? – I read somewhere that boys do stupid things when they like a girl."
He heard her sigh loudly and he felt his heart twinge once again.
"But we bicker all the time…so surely he doesn't like me..."
At this his brain jolted and he remembered why he was outside late at night, during snowfall, nearly dying from the cold and riding his broom.
He flew a bit higher so he was even with the window and wrote the first thing that sprang to mind on the frosted pane. His glove was getting soggy and cold where it touched the icy window, but he persevered. It wasn't easy, and he knew that at least some of the letters were shaky and probably back to front. He'd never written backwards before.
He'd gotten as far as 'Hermione. Please forgive me. I'll make it up to you. Promi' when the window to his right opened and Hermione's face popped out.
"Ron! What are you doing?"
"R-r-r-r-writing y-you a m-message. I didn't w-want t-to w-w-wake you," he chattered, his lips blue.
"Come inside, Ron. You'll freeze. Why are you only wearing one glove?"
"I c-couldn't fit the other one…my hand's a bit swollen. It's okay though, cause it's w-w-w-warm enough without being r-wrapped up," he frowned inwardly at the wavering of his own voice. Especially when she looked so cute in her white and blue stripped pajamas, even eyes red from crying. He wanted to sound strong and convincing.
He rubbed his upper arms to warm himself after clambering through the small window. Thank goodness he was so thin, he thought, otherwise he'd never have made it through.
He could feel her gaze on him and he looked up and locked eyes with her. She had her hands on her hips but her face didn't look so defiant. She was giving him a chance to explain himself.
He coughed, then began in a serious voice, "Hermione, I meant what I s-said on the w-window. I p-promise I'll make it up to you."
"Ron, I think what would mean more to me is if you go and apologize to Viktor…then maybe I can forgive you."
"D-done and done, 'Mione," grinned Ron, the colour starting to come back to his face.
"Really?" said Hermione skeptically. "You do know you have to go see Viktor and he has to actually hear your apology?"
"Oh, I saw Vicky alright," chuckled Ron. "Briefly. Don't worry, Hermione. I have proof of purchase."
"Pardon?"
Ron tugged his hat off, his red hair trying to escape in all directions. "Look." He parted his fringe to reveal a blackened left eye.
"Viktor did this to you?" gasped Hermione. "You let him? You didn't hit him again, did you?"
"Well, I wouldn't say I let him. I didn't invite him to hit me, if that's what you mean," laughed Ron.
"Merlin's Beard! What is wrong with boys?" But her frown turned to concern as she gently parted his fringe again and looked into his eyes, "Does it hurt, Ron?"
Ron could feel his ears turning red and her fingers felt like fire on his cool skin.
"Comparatively speaking, no," he grinned, "but you see, I'm going for the whole set. Bruised knuckles, black eye, frost bite and…" he trailed off into a nervous cough, knowing that he'd gone too far and that he'd have to tell her now.
"And what?" whispered Hermione.
"Brknart" said Ron in a low cracked voice. Damn. Stupid voice box, he thought.
"Sorry?"
"…Broken heart," sighed Ron, defeated. "Hermione, I always knew you were the bravest, smartest girl I ever met…but only tonight did I realize that you are also the most beautiful. And I don't mean the dress, which is brilliant, by the way. It's just…You. I don't know why I never noticed before…"
He watched her cheeks flush as she stepped back from him. Ron hoped it wasn't from some sort of aversion to him. No, he corrected himself. Not after what he had heard her saying just now. His own ears began to heat up and he tried hard to ignore them.
He awkwardly continued. "And when Krum said you were going with him, well…I think I just snapped or something, y'know?" He stood looking at the floor, looking embarrassed and lost. He wished he could just be sucked through the floor, hopefully into a loud fun place. Her silence was deafening.
At last she moved closer and hugged him, and the feeling of awkwardness disappeared and was replaced by something else. Something stronger. More powerful.
"Ron," she murmured into his chest, "thank you." He smiled and hugged her back.
"But please don't punch any more people, okay? If your spend life in detention I'd never see you, and I think I'd snap," she giggled good naturedly and he felt a stupid grin grow on his face.
He didn't want him to let her go. Not ever. But he knew he had to.
"'Mione, it's late and the Ball will be nearly over. I'd better go…I'm not meant to be here."
Hermione nodded, and handed him his hat and glove and helped him and his broom through the small window.
"Goodnight, Ron." she said shyly.
"'Night, 'Mione," grinned Ron, "See you tomorrow." She closed the window as he disappeared downward.
When he was halfway down to the ground he stopped. Her hug had made him feel a bit brash and a cockeyed idea formed in his head. He had to try it...
He flew quickly back to her window and knocked. The light was out now, but he heard her footsteps hurrying to the window. It opened, and there she was. So beautiful, he thought.
"I forgot something," he said to her seriously, trying his best not to smile. She looked behind her as if to spot something he may have left. At this he quickly flew high enough to kiss her lightly on the lips as she turned.
It was brief and sweet and perfect.
"Night, 'Mione," he whispered as he vanished into the night, cheeks glowing.
Ron held onto the kiss in his mind as he flew towards the ground. He thought a cool walk through snow and cool corridors would be a good idea…he certainly needed some cooling down.
He really couldn't believe he had just kissed Hermione Granger!
He descended the tower smoothly, but suddenly found himself falling from his broom...
He jerked awake; his astrological chart stuck to his face. Harry was prodding him, and he realized his Divination teacher was standing in front of him waiting for an answer.
"The Ball," Ron mumbled groggily.
"Yes, dear, what do you see in the crystal ball," coaxed the goggle-eyed Professor.
Ron shrugged, and tried to think of something quick. The whole class was looking at him, and he knew he was flushed from the realism of his dream. "I see the Yule Ball…dancing and stuff."
"I'm afraid the sight is not with you today, Ronald. The Yule Ball was last month…we are trying to look into the future, dear. Not the past."
"Err, yes, Professor Trelawney," stammered Ron, who was relieved to see she'd moved on to Seamus.
"You okay? You were nearly snoring!" snickered Harry.
"Yeah…I'm fine…I'm just…"
In love with Hermione Granger
"..it's just stuffy and hot in here…"
Bloody Hell…I'm in love with Hermione Granger!
"..I'm just tired, I think."
