For EgoLust92, who introduced me to FanFiction.


Chapter Eight

"What the hell is going on here?"

I couldn't move or make a sound. It sounds really stupid, but at that moment, I was scared of my stupid little brother. I could hardly describe the look on his face, it was pure and utter hatred. Hermione was still pinned against the bookcase and my bare ass was still hanging out proudly to the rest of the library.

It was Hermione who spoke first, untangling her legs from my waist as she said, "Ron, please, listen…" but he was gone, and we heard the library door slam behind him as he went. We both looked at each other, and both said at the same time "I'll go."

After rearranging our clothes quickly, we hurried out of the library, past a baffled Madame Pince and onto the second floor corridor, looking left and right for him.

"Dormitory?" Hermione ventured.

"Better check the obvious places first. He wouldn't be getting consoled by Hagrid, would he?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at my sarcasm. "Not now, Fred." She looked away. "I'll look around a couple of classrooms, you go to the dormitories. It won't look weird that way; I mean, me going into his dormitory when it's probably common knowledge that we've broken up is going to look weird."

We looked at each other and I gripped her hand bracingly after seeing the slight fear in her eyes.

"It'll be okay, Hermione. Look, if neither of us finds him we'll meet in the common room and wait for him there, he's going to have to come back to Gryffindor tower at some point."

Hermione nodded, biting her lip uneasily. I smiled at her, pecked her roughly on the lips and headed left to the upper staircase, while she headed to the nearest classroom.

I glanced around looking for my brother as I hurried up the numerous staircases to Gryffindor tower, hoping that any confrontation we might have would be away from the busyness of the common room. Every step took me closer to the likelihood of an oncoming argument and reinforced the sick feeling I had in the pit of my stomach which I usually associated with guilt and worry. I reached the Fat Lady's portrait slightly breathless and stammered out the password while gripping the stitch that had been stabbing me in the ribs.

"Your brother's in a right state," she informed me pompously before swinging open. "Stormed up to me with a face like thunder and barked the password at me before practically diving in there!"

"I'll just have a conversation with him about his manners, shall I?" I called back at her as I climbed through the portrait hole. Her answer was inaudible: I was sprinting towards the staircase to the boy's dormitories at this point. It seemed like forever I was sprinting up the stairs. The door displaying the plaque "Fifth Years" stood wide open, framing the sight of my baby brother chucking everything haphazardly into his open trunk.

"Ron," I gasped breathlessly. "I need to explain."

He turned to me, orange Chuddley Cannon boxers in hand, and glared at me where I was supporting myself with my hands on Seamus's bed.

"There's no need to explain, brother," he said, putting a nasty emphasis on the word 'brother' as he started throwing things pell-mell into his trunk again. "I understand. You've been fucking my girlfriend and I've wasted my time on the one girl I ever thought I could have a future with."

The guilt washed over me in waves.

"Look, Ron, you need to let me expl-"

"There is nothing to fucking explain, Fred! I caught you shagging Hermione in the library, I saw you with my own eyes, so don't try to deny it –"

"I wasn't going to –"

Then Ron Shut Up You Little Bastard Weasley started to live up to the stereotypical redhead temper in an explosion of sound.

"I LOVE HER, FRED, OKAY? I WANTED TO BE WITH HER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, AND I'VE JUST FOUND OUT THAT YOU WERE TOGETHER WITH HER! WE'RE BROTHERS, FRED! WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE BEST FRIENDS!"

He threw a glass from his bedside cabinet, which he didn't aim too well: it smashed on one of the posts of Seamus's bed.

"YOU HAD HER BEFORE I DID! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW LONG I'VE WANTED HER! I'VE WAITED FIVE YEARS FOR THIS AND THEN IT GETS FUCKED UP BY SOMEONE WHO'S SUPPOSED TO CARE ABOUT ME AND LOVE ME!"

A fleeting thought of 'hey, don't get all gay on me, Ron' was pushed out of my mind by the sight of an airborne Monster Book of Monsters, which Ron had evidently stroked the spine of, as it came flying through the air, gnashing at me furiously. I ducked it just in time.

"Ronald! I thought I recognised your dulcet tones from the common room. If you're really going to have a shouting match with Fred, you should really… shut… the…"

We both spun round to find George in the doorway. He trailed off after noticing the broken glass and the rampaging book, which at that moment was shredding the hem on the leg of my trousers. His eyes dashed from me to Ron, searching our faces for any clue of what was happening.

"What in the name of Merlin is going on here?"

Ron exploded again into a furious tirade, his ears glowing his trademark red.

"Fred and Hermione!" he exclaimed as he made his way towards my twin. George shot me a fleeting look out the corner of his eye.

I could see it. Would George play innocent or own up to his knowledge? I didn't care much either way, in a strange way I felt relieved that it wasn't a secret anymore, but then I didn't want my twin in trouble because of something he didn't do.

"How do you kn-"

"Can you believe it, George? My brother and my girlfriend, behind my back! I bet you both had a right laugh at my expense!" he turned back to me now, spitting his words at me like cobra's venom. "Bet you never thought I'd find out, but no. Hermione had just called things off with me, and I raced to the library to try to win her back, and at first I thought that you were comforting her, Fred, because you know how much she means to me and then I saw her legs around…" a strange look overcame Ron and he sank onto Neville's four-poster. I understood then that the look spreading over Ron's face like butter on the toast he always has for breakfast was realisation. The bypassed, cut off question that George had began to ask that Ron had overlooked but meant so much to me and George had registered in Ron's brain.

Shit.


Hey everyone, I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get published! My last update was in March 2009, I think, and what a cliff-hanger I left you all! I hope this chapter satisfies you.

I started writing this chapter I think more or less after the last one was published. I suffered from really bad writers block, and I was thinking about how badly I needed to update this story yesterday (28th December, just in case I don't publish this right this moment!) and I opened the file and started writing. It wasn't far off from where I've decided to split it, actually; yet again it's an "I think this should be where I break" one. I was "umm-ing and ahh-ing" over whether to split it here, and I thought you all deserved a new chapter, and then it gives me the incentive to write chapter nine, as I know what'll be included.

A lot has happened over the past year. I've now completed my time at sixth form and I'm studying photography at university. It is SO HARD to juggle my workload and a social life, and I don't even have a job, as I would be even more stressed out than I already am. I know of authors that are at uni and juggle work with social lives AND writing, and I applaud them. I'm sorry I can't be like that as well. Another reason I haven't been writing as much is because my family and I have had a really rough time since last November. I dedicate this chapter to my late grandmother. Phyllis "Ordinary", I miss you so much. You probably wouldn't approve of what I'm writing on here, but I wanted to dedicate this chapter to you anyway. One of my very first stories was written at your and Pie's house, and illustrated with your wax crayons.

To anyone suffering right now, you aren't alone. There are many different means of help out there, phone lines, websites, taking out your pain in a creative way. Draw, or compose music, or write something to let it all out. Keeping it in isn't healthy. To quote Winston Churchill: "If you're going through hell, keep going" and our very own Albus Dumbledore: "We must not sink beneath our anguish, Harry, but battle on."

I hope you all enjoyed your winter holidays, and I'll hopefully be seeing you soon with chapter nine (no year-long wait, I promise).

Love and liquorice wands,

EmoPygmePuff

xxx