A/N - Hey, did you hear? Apparently they changed the definition of "weekly" to mean "whenever the hell you feel like it."
Oh, they didn't? Yeah, my bad... sorry!
By the morning of the big Quidditch match, Ron had still not become any more pleasant to be around. Hermione had taken to avoiding him unless absolutely necessary, but as she made her way down to breakfast to see Harry and Ron sat at the table in their red and gold uniforms, she knew she couldn't just ignore them.
"How are you both feeling?" she asked on her approach, eyeing the back of Ron's head warily.
"Fine," said Harry, picking up a glass of pumpkin juice.
But then quick as a flash, Hermione saw him flick his wrist as though he was pouring something into to the cup, and then a glint of gold. She narrowed her eyes. Harry wouldn't… would he?
"There you go, Ron. Drink up."
"Don't drink that, Ron!" she said sharply as he raised the glass to his lips.
The boys looked up at her. Ron looked terribly ill, pale as Nearly Headless Nick, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"Why not?" he asked.
Hermione glared at Harry accusingly. "You just put something in that drink."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!" she insisted.
"I don't know what you're talking about," replied Harry calmly, so Hermione rounded on Ron.
"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!"
But instead of listening to her, Ron downed the entire glass and then stared at her defiantly.
"Stop bossing me around, Hermione."
Her mouth hung open in shock and horror. She couldn't believe Ron would be so reckless. And Harry! Spiking Ron's drink with his bottle of Felix was against the rules – did he really care that much about a stupid game of Quidditch?
She bent down to hiss in Harry's ear. "You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!"
"Hark who's talking," he whispered back snidely. "Confunded anyone lately?"
Deeply offended by his low blow, Hermione stormed off up the table and sat down with Neville, Dean and Ginny instead. Confunding Cormac was one thing, but actually drugging the Keeper so they could win was quite another.
She picked at her breakfast moodily, debating whether to boycott the game on principle or to go to support her friends. In the end, her friendship won the battle. Damn her Gryffindor loyalty.
She strode down the cold and frosty grounds with Neville and Luna, who had found them as they left the Great Hall – Ginny had left early to get ready and Dean had gone with her. Luna was wearing her lion hat and was attracting many stares and giggles from other students, but she didn't notice and merely stared off dreamily into the distance. They took seats together in the stands and huddled together, clapping and cheering (although rather reluctantly on Hermione's part) when the teams came onto the pitch. The captains shook hands and then the whistle blew and they soared into the air. Harry immediately began tailing Malfoy, who was flying up far higher than the others to search for the Snitch, and Ron flew straight to cover the goalposts. He looked far more confident than he had at breakfast – no wonder, thought Hermione.
"…patchy performance as Keeper last year that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help," drawled Zacharias Smith, the new commentator, his words drawing a mix of cheers and boos. "Now Viola Richmond, for Slytherin, with the Quaffle, a replacement for Chaser Vaisey, who won't be playing today after a run in with a Bludger – being Slytherin's best scorer that might be a blow to the team but very lucky for the Gryffindors, although given their new line up they may need all the luck they can get…"
Hermione gritted her teeth.
Ron played fantastically, not that Hermione was surprised by any of the miraculous and difficult saves he made, and the whole team seemed to be in another league, passing the ball seamlessly and rarely being intercepted. After only half an hour, Smith's whiny voice suddenly took a smidgen more excitement as he spotted Malfoy and Harry speeding together after the Snitch, and Harry's capture sealed victory for the Gryffindor team. Hermione tried to feel happy, but she couldn't shake her distaste with exactly how the win had been procured.
As the stands began to empty, Hermione made her way to the Gryffindor changing room to finally give the boys a piece of her mind. She caught them just as they were leaving.
"I'm glad we won. But you shouldn't have done what you did. Slughorn told us it was illegal," she said firmly.
Ron looked angry. "So you're going to turn your best friends in then, are you?"
"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, a ghost of a smile twitching at his mouth.
"You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" Hermione insisted. "You put some of your Felix Felicis in Ron's juice this morning, you made him lucky!"
"No I didn't," said Harry, smiling.
"Yes you did, Harry! That why the weather conditions were good and Slytherin's best Chaser was missing and Ron saved everything!"
"I didn't put it in," Harry said, practically beaming as he produced his bottle of Felix from his pocket to show her the wax seal still intact at the top. "I just wanted Ron to think I had, so I pretended to when you were looking. He just needed a bit of confidence," he continued, looking at Ron. "That was all you, mate. You didn't need any help."
"So… the weather… and Vaisey not playing… they were just coincidences?"
Harry nodded. Ron stared at him, began to smile, but then rounded on Hermione.
"You gave Ron Felix this morning, that's why he saved everything!" he said in a shrill, high voice that was clearly meant to be an imitation of her. "See! I'm not as useless as you think I am!"
Hermione blinked, shocked by his irritation. "I didn't say you were useless! And you thought you'd been given it, too, it wasn't just me-" she said, but he'd already walked out of the changing room with his broom over his shoulder, whistling softly.
Hermione's eyes started to sting. Why was Ron behaving like this lately? Why was he looking for excuses to pick fights with her?
Harry looked very uncomfortable. "Shall… shall we go to the party then?" he asked nervously.
"You go, I'm not. I'm sick of Ron, what have I done to deserve this kind of treatment?" she asked thickly, trying to hold back tears, and then storming out of the changing room too.
She made it to her dorm before the common room had filled up too much and slumped on her bed, disturbing a sleeping Crookshanks and wiping away the few tears that had made their way down her face. Damn Ron. He was so sensitive. She hadn't meant to offend him. She stroked behind Crookshanks' ears and he purred loudly, nuzzling into her chest as he curled up on her lap.
She hid in her room for quite some time before deciding to show her face at the party. She could hear laughter and music from down the spiral staircase and at the very least she could enjoy a Butterbeer even if Ron was being a royal prat.
Holding her head up high, she descended the staircase and entered the packed common room. Huge red and gold banners were hanging up all around with messages of encouragement and congratulations on them, Hermione could barely move for people and every available surface was being used to hold food or drink. She was just making her way to the nearest table stocked with Butterbeers when she saw it; Ron and Lavender stood, unabashed in the middle of a crowd of people, kissing. She had her arms snaked around his neck and he had his hands firmly planted on her waist, and it felt immediately as though Hermione was drowning.
She fled the common room before she'd realised she'd done it and hid in an empty classroom. Tears flowing freely, she sat cross legged on top of the desk and pulled out her wand, twiddling it as she cried. Through her sobs, she muttered "Avis," and there was blue light, a bang like a gunshot, a small cloud of smoke and then a flock of tiny yellow birds began tweeting and swooping around the room. Hermione smiled weakly as one came to land on her hand, chirped, and then took off again. They had just started orbiting her head like tiny, fluttering moons when she heard the door open.
"Hermione?"
It was Harry. She wiped away her tears on the back of her hand.
"Oh, hello Harry." She gestured to her birds. "I was just… you know, practising."
"Yeah, they're – er – really good," he said hesitantly.
He clearly wasn't sure what to say, but Hermione didn't mind; Harry wasn't particularly good at these kind of situations. He just stared at her for a few moments until she stared fixedly at her birds and said, "Ron seemed to be enjoying the celebrations."
Her voice caught and she heard it.
Harry looked caught off guard. "Er… did he?"
"You know he did, don't pretend you didn't see him. He wasn't exactly subtle, was-"
The door burst open once more and there stood the last two people Hermione wanted to see – Ron, pulling Lavender by the hand, laughing. Then he saw Harry and Hermione, came to a standstill and simply said, "Oh."
No apology. No sign of concern for Hermione. Rage bubbled up inside of her. Lavender giggled stupidly, murmured "Oops!" and ducked back out of the room, leaving the three of them stood in a swelling silence that was rapidly beginning to suffocate Hermione. Ron couldn't even look at her. Coward.
"I was wondering where you'd got to, Harry!" he said, in a falsely bright way.
Hermione slid off the desk, her birds still circling her. She heard herself say something about leaving Lavender waiting in a very calm, measured tone but it was like the words had just slipped out on someone else's consent – she didn't feel in control of her own body anymore, she was too angry. She walked over to the door, holding herself taller than normal but then as she stood in the frame the rage came pulsing down her arm, into her fingertips and she could feel her magic battering her body for release, like a restless tide.
"Oppugno!" she shrieked, pointing her wand at Ron, and her feathery conjurations began attacking him, pecking and clawing at him as he yelled and tried to fight them off. She didn't wait around to watch the attack she'd just choreographed, but shot Ron a dirty look, fought back the new wave of tears and ran off down the corridor.
She took off down the nearest set of stairs, intending to aim for Myrtle's bathroom. Neither Harry or Ron could come after her there… but of course, Ron would be do busy with Lavender now, wouldn't he?
The mental image of them, entwined together in the common room, floated unbidden into her mind. Why was her head forcing her to torture herself? More importantly, why was she so upset over Ron? He clearly didn't care about her.
She was just passing the Transfiguration corridor when she caught sight of Draco Malfoy stepping out of a classroom, clutching a bundle of papers. Inside, she screamed. After Ron, he was the last person in the world she wanted to see right now. Couldn't a girl cry in peace in this damn school? She hurried past him, pretending not to notice that his eyes were fixed on her.
"Something got you down, Granger? Get nine out of ten on an essay or something?" he called after her.
Normally Hermione would have ignored him, but right now her nerved were fried and she was close to breaking. She span on her heel and glared at him.
"Get lost, you slimeball. Why do you seem to be making a point of being wherever I don't want you to be?" she snapped.
"Why do you seem to make a point of following me around like a little Mudblood lap dog? If you want to go out with me, all you have to do is ask. Of course, you'll be met with swift decline," he replied coolly.
The nerve. Like she would follow him around school for any reason whatsoever. Or that she would even contemplate going out with the likes of him. She removed her wand from her pocket.
"I'm warning you, Malfoy, shut that filthy mouth of yours because I'm not in the mood right now. My patience is hanging by a thread. I'll hex you into oblivion without a second thought. Avis."
Another flock of her trademark birds exploded out of her wand and came to hover behind her, like legions ready to attack, and Malfoy looked startled.
"No magic in the corridors, Granger, you know the rules. I'll have to report you for this," he said, but he still eyed the birds with caution. "What are you going to do, set your canaries on me?"
"Don't push me," she hissed.
He quirked one eyebrow, and for a fraction of a second, Hermione though he looked almost impressed. "Well I wouldn't want to damage my lovely face now, would I? I already have most of my own house out to get me after today, I don't need to add a magical menagerie to the list too."
Malfoy smirked sourly at her and opened his mouth as though to say something more, glanced again at her feathered army, then closed it. He walked off down the corridor, clutching his pieces of parchment, and left her to walk slowly to Myrtle's bathroom, sadly dismissing her birds as she drifted along.
