AN: Thank you for the few, the proud, the reviewers. It seriously brightens my day to see and read them, they're such an ego boost. So if you could, drop me a line, especially if you're enjoying this. I know it may seem like I'm going off topic in these chapters and focusing more on other relationships, but I swear it is not just useless rambling! I am going somewhere with all of this...bear with me, I actually have been working on this so I shouldn't be leaving it cold turkey. Thank you, I hope you like the newest chapter.
Prelude to Disaster: Chapter 5
Hermione wondered whether she'd have to make it official. Actually face Ron and tell him she never wanted to love him again. Even though she doubted it would impact him, it knotted her stomach to think about. How could she look him in the eye after all this time, especially if he was unperturbed by the news? That would be the worst possible scenario. To have him look at her blankly, and possibly with pity as she "dumped" him…when in fact he had dumped her from his heart as easily as he threw an apple core away. Eating her right to the center and then carelessly disposing of her, that sounded like a suitably horrible and accurate scenario.
It was almost hard to believe she had left him this time around; the final time. But then, was she really the one with the power? Was it more pathetic that she had been around so long and let him come back to her so many times, or that when she had left, she always returned? The swirling thoughts muddled her thoughts like a snowstorm, neither hardening nor softening her resolve to end her relationship.
She and Ginny rounded the corner in Diagon Alley that gave them a straight path directly leading to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, the most flamboyant shop in the entire district, today decorated by an array of colorful fireworks set to explode every thirty seconds.
It was a chillier day than London had been experiencing lately, but Hermione knew she could count on the weather being due to a cold front moving in, not Dementors. The wind whipped through the alleyway as the girls hurried to the vibrant shop entrance.
A loud squawking accompanied the opening of the door. Serving the purpose of the bell, a parrot the size of a Great Dane was perched upon a ledge next to the entrance. It's green beak drooped to between its orange toes and its' head settled back into its chest, napping until the next customer arrived. For a Friday morning, it was nearly deserted; a majority of the WWW consumers were as late of risers as the owners. Even without the usual horde of clientele, there was still barely enough room to move without brushing against the next top-of-the-line laughing cauldron or edible wand.
"What a complete and utter surprise!" A lanky, red-headed Weasley twin rounded a tall display case and approached the pair. Hermione immediately reddened in embarrassment; she couldn't tell which one it was!
"Where is he?" Ginny practically spat in vehemence at her brother, who flinched back from her ferocious demeanor.
"Now, now, dearest and youngest sibling; I hardly think you'd find it appropriate to take a stroll to the rear of the building, climb our staircase, and strangle the poor bloke while he was enjoying a peaceful slumber on our couch—" Ginny had already stalked off down an aisle to find the entrance to twins' apartment. "Or maybe you would," He muttered.
"Well, Hermione," Hermione snapped her attention to him at the address that was accompanied by a head tilt and wide grin, "Although I was completely sarcastic to Ginny's presence on this fine morning, I am entirely sincere when I say it is a pleasant shock to see you in our humble institution." Hermione couldn't help but join the brother in smiling.
"Yes, well—actually, I'm sorry..?"
"George," George cut her off with a laugh. "I know its been a lengthy stretch of time, but it wounds me to think that Hermione Granger can no longer distinguish between the infamous Weasley twins, a feat our mother could never even pull off!" George mimed stabbing himself in the heart. "I suppose you haven't spent enough time recently with Molly screaming out our names in exasperation; even if she only gets them right about half the time." He added with a forlorn sigh. Hermione giggled at the memories of a flustered Mrs. Weasley chasing after the mischievous boys; a sight she hadn't seen in years. However, she knew she had to find Ginny and save Harry from severe emasculation. She also wanted to avoid the topic of Ron with any members of the Weasley family before she was ready to discuss it. She said just as much to escape from the friendly Fred-err—George (only the part about rescuing Harry from imminent pain), and turned down the same aisle Ginny had taken.
As Hermione traversed the skewed passageway, she would have been worried about fire hazards the teetering stacks of Real Dragon Firecrackers™, or towering crates of Entirely Too Flammable Fake Hair™, provided had it been a Muggle establishment. Ginny had left an easily followed trail by knocking over said piles of products, some that were sparking or smoking on the checkered linoleum floor. Hermione carefully but quickly picked her way over the debris, finally reaching her destination. It was a room that served as an office, storage space, product testing, and access to the apartment. The door was flung wide open in Ginny's wake, and Hermione made sure to gently close it once she had entered the room. She jogged up the staircase at the right and reached the landing just in time to see Harry, in one piece and sleeping peacefully on the suede green couch—and Ginny launching herself knees first onto his stomach.
"Bloody hell—!" Harry would have fallen off of the couch in alarm had Ginny's weight not stabilized him. Well, maybe not her weight since she was compared as light as a Puffskein more often than not, but the fists she had clutched into his sleeping shirt had enough vigor to keep him in place.
"Harry James Potter, you bloody prick! Leaving your pregnant girlfriend while you fight her bloody deranged brother—"
"Ginny?! What the—Get off of—OW! Stop pinching me!"
"I will pinch you until you're black and blue, Potter, just wait until I'm as big as a hippogriff and then you'll be sorry for knocking me up—"
"But I'm already sorry, I said it before! Especially if you're going to act completely mental the whole bloody time —"
"You think I'm being mad now? How DARE you suggest that; wrong choice of words you arse—didn't even come home last night—"
"You told me to get out of your sight before you blasted my bloody head off! You said you'd rather see me get laid out by the Hogwarts Express than see me again! I was trying not to exacerbate the issue—"
"I still wish you'd take a long fall from a high broom—"
"Then what in bloody hell are you doing here?" Harry sitting up now, leaning on his elbows; their physical struggle had ended. His face had pinkened from the shouting while Ginny's cheeks had flamed to match her hair. Their breathing was irregular and rapid, both of them glaring defiantly at one another. Ginny's fists were still clenched and rested on his chest, no longer pounding on it as she had been doing. Harry's hair was more ruffled than usual, and Ginny's wild curls had escaped her bobby pins. As quickly as her temper had been triggered, Ginny's head bowed and her hair fell in front of her face. Hermione heard a slight sniffle from behind the curtain.
"I missed you," Ginny warbled and burst into tears. Harry immediately flew into action, wrapping his sobbing girlfriend into his arms as he laid them both back on the couch.
Hermione felt that she could start bawling at any second. The fight(?) between the two had been nothing short of confusing as hell. She had observed its entirety with amused anxiety, finding it both hilarious and nerve-wracking because such an exchange with Ron would never have ended so…cutely. The yelling would have escalated until a door was slammed or objects were thrown. Issues were never resolved; one of them would eventually get fed up and leave the apartment—Hermione to her office or Ron to a bar. Either way, Ron would get shit-faced and forget the incident entirely; Hermione could recall all of them.
"Makes you want to vomit, doesn't it?" came a familiar voice from behind her. She started and tensed out of habit, but quickly relaxed with recognition. Wiping the welled tears from her eyes, she began to turn.
"Oh, George, you should've seen it—"
"Not George," said the redhead behind her, laugher evident in his tone. After actually seeing the man behind her, Hermione realized her folly. While George had been up and presentable for work, presumably up for a few hours, his twin had obviously just rolled out of bed. The copper hair at the back of his head was sticking straight up and his scruffy face betrayed his lack of shaving. He was wearing pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt—nothing on his bare feet. Hermione groaned.
"That's the second time this morning I've managed to embarrass myself by not recognizing either Weasley twin," she confessed sheepishly.
"Don't fret, love; it most certainly won't be the last," he assured her with a wink and lopsided grin. She scoffed and Fred moved past her to survey the scene before him with a raised eyebrow. "Well, this is one we didn't see coming," he muttered, emulating George's sarcasm. The tearful embrace had turned into a fierce lip-lock that reddened Hermione's cheeks to witness. Fred strolled over to the couple and stood before them with his arms crossed.
"Alright, alright, break it up." When they didn't acknowledge Fred's presence, his arms unfolded and he used two fingers to let out a piercing whistle that had Hermione covering her ears from halfway across the room. The lovebirds jumped at the harsh sound and the glue melding their mouths together evaporated. "That's better," Fred said pleasantly in stark contrast to the melting glower Ginny had thrown in his direction.
"Rude." She hissed at his cheerful disposition.
"Oh, on the contrary dear virginal sister, not nearly rude enough," He said brightly and sat down in between the couple, putting an arm around both. Their faces, once so flushed with anger, then passion, were now devoid of all blood; Ginny had grown deathly pale.
"Now," Fred began, still pleasant, "Unless my ears deceived me, which should be impossible considering the size of Ginny's lungs and my Extendable Ear chain I have connected from my bedroom to this room," Ginny and Harry exchanged nervous glances. "I may have overheard someone shouting something about pregnancy…" Fred's grin grew wider and more lethal; Hermione saw his hand grasping Harry's shoulder tighter than necessary and Harry swallowing hard; neither of the couple affirmed his eavesdropping. "Now see, I don't know how this pregnancy thing could have happened; I mean, if you were alluding to Ginny being pregnant, well, that just wouldn't be possible. Our sister was brought up in a nice, Catholic household. Her parents trusted her enough with her saintly boyfriend to not make stupid, immature, life-ruining—" Fred's grin had turned into a sneer, which had then turned into a deep-set frown. For someone who's calling in life was to make people laugh, his frown was awfully convincing.
"Enough," Ginny said in a shaky voice. Her eyes were downcast and her hands were sat limply in her lap. Hermione could see that she was holding back tears, and Harry's personal discomfort and inability to comfort his girlfriend were only restrained by not wanting to further incite Fred's wrath.
"No," Fred said tauntingly, pushing himself forcefully from the couch, "No, it's not nearly enough. Because try to look past your immature melodrama and see that now you got what you wanted. You wanted to be an adult, got Mum and Dad to treat you like one, and you fucked it all up. Just wait until they get a load of this horseshit, you'll never leave the Burrow again." Tears were now streaming down Ginny's cheeks but she resolutely did not make a noise. Fred rounded on Harry next. "And you. Aren't you supposed to be the poster boy for, oh, I don't know, the world? Wait until the Daily Prophet catches wind of this, what great publicity you'll get then—" Hermione saw Harry's hand itching for his wand and knew this would spiral out of control quickly.
"Fred, please." She pleaded as she stepped forward from where she had been frantically monitoring the situation. Fred halted and turned to her with curiosity. Hermione wilted under the scrutiny until Ginny added in,
"Fred…I understand why you're upset. I deserve the ridicule, I know. But I'll be the one to tell Mum and Dad, eventually, and…well, there will be some arrangements made to legitimize this child and my relationship with Harry. Please think better of me, that I will make the best of it and not allow this to be a permanent mistake." Fred was still staring at Hermione. She was intimidated, but refused to break eye contact. Blue met brown, and Hermione watched him process Ginny's words and mull them over momentarily. He tore his gaze from hers and Hermione felt him cave to his sister's pleas.
"Ginny…" He sighed and accepted her into his arms when she rose to embrace him. Harry had sat silently throughout the entire exchange, most likely literally holding his tongue between his teeth, and Hermione could see the vein in his cheek ticking still. Fred released his sister and collapsed into the arm chair, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He rubbed his face and groaned. "What are we going to do with you…". Knowing her brother had been successfully shut down, Ginny perked up.
"Just think about what you would do without me," she said gaily, curling up on the couch once more next to Harry.
"Have less headaches," he mumbled from behind his hands, and Ginny chuckled at the return of his humor. She began to chatter away about how they wouldn't tell the rest of the Weasley family everything, just that they were getting married. The other unpleasant interrogations could come later…
The anxiousness in Hermione's chest had departed with Fred's anger. Another situation was diffused quickly and efficiently within this family. Harry would soon be apart of the family, if Ginny's hints at "legitimizing" their relationships had the same connotations to him as it did to her. Hermione would be left alone, living out of her office most likely and fully devoting herself to her career. Sure, she'd see her own family for holidays, but she no longer belonged in the Muggle world; that door had been shut long ago. She just wasn't used to feeling so out of place in her own world. Her experiences may have been different, but she had never anticipated feeling so out of the loop in relationship-oriented interactions. She had been worried for nothing over Ginny and Harry's tiff, and she should have known Fred could not be that cruel for that long. Without siblings, without a proper relationship…was she missing an essential developmental element for dealing with these types of conflicts?
"…And Hermione will be my maid of honor, won't you?" Hermione looked around uncertainly before staring blankly at Ginny.
"I will?"
"Spendid!" Ginny clapped her hands, mistaking Hermione's inflection of skepticism for affirmation. "It'll have to be in about two months…or even less, I don't want to look like there's a Quaffle under my dress."
