Chapter 9 – Hide the Krums
Waking with a start, Ron opened his eyes, squinting through the curtains of his four-poster that he had drawn. He did not detect any movement, and sighed as he wiped his brow. His dreams had been vivid and sweet, causing him to reflect on his late night rendezvous with Hermione. He tried easing himself up but stopped dead; his dreams last night were too pleasant. Resting his head back on his pillow, he amused himself by staring off lazily out the window of his dormitory. He heard some shuffling from beyond the curtains, and two figures darted out of the room, as rashly as possible. Groaning, Ron rolled his eyes in disgust. Ever since yesterday's incident at the Three Broomsticks, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom had avoided any moments with Harry or Seamus. They were very insecure and thought that Seamus and Harry were wrong in their pairing. Ron did not doubt for one second that they were homophobic, and probably would have chased them downstairs but for his inability to. Dropping the sheet over his eyes, he tried to picture last night once again; barely escaping from a daze, Harry woke Ron up by a loud giggling. Tossing off the blankets just enough to cause them to fall at his waist, Ron gazed over in Harry's direction.
"Ron? Hey, Ron!" Harry gripped the curtains of Ron's bed loosely and made to open it up.
"Er, Harry, I'm gonna meet you downstairs."
Taking the hint, Harry let the curtains close once again and made for the exit of the dormitory.
After sometime, Ron finally managed to make it out of bed and down to the common room. His eyes scanned the room eagerly, picking out every detail, anything that could point him in Hermione's direction. He spotted Dean and Neville mumbling in the corner; following their scowl, Ron found Harry and Seamus, who were both settling on one of the comfy sofas. Striding over to them, he looked for Hermione in vain.
"Morning," he stated, standing over the two behind the sofa. He grinned down at them, but realized they kept small distance between each other on the sofa. Very odd, Ron decided. He was still too intent on finding her to think anything of it. "Have either of you seen-"
Harry beat Seamus in response, "No, not yet. Late night?" Harry chuckled at the glint in Ron's livened blue orbs.
"Right, well, I'll go grab some parchment from the dormitory for study," Seamus rose from his position next to Harry, walking drearily.
"So, eh, what's going on?" Ron plopped down in the vacant spot next to Harry.
"I don't quite know, actually," Harry murmured; he showed no sign of joy or contempt. "And with you?"
Ron unleashed a sly grin in Harry's direction, biting his lip to control his thoughts. Hermione was now exiting her dormitory and making her way casually across the common room. Adjusting his posture, Ron now looked a bit more alert and awake. Harry recognized a harsh change in Ron's behavior; he always glowed when in Hermione's presence. This, in turn, made Harry question why he did not feel any happier in Seamus' protective grasp. He actually felt relieved that Seamus excused himself for a moment up to his dormitory; the fact that he did not need to fulfill any sort of role calmed Harry. This feels more like a job then love; Harry frowned in thought. Settling down beside Ron, Hermione allowed him to droop his arm over her shoulders. They look so happy, Harry realized.
"Morning Harry," she said, fighting off a yawn. "Where's Seamus?"
"Dormitory," Harry muttered, diverting his eyes from them. He did not want to talk about Seamus at all. Just forget it, he thought.
"Is everything okay?" Hermione questioned. Ron heaved a sigh; this would be an interesting day. He could not comprehend why Harry was so indecisive about Seamus. For him, it did not seem that hard of a choice. He bit his lip in contemplation; he was the one who gave Harry any doubt about his feelings. How could he be so stupid?
"Let's get some food," Ron hinted, trying to avoid the subject. He did not want to see his mate get annoyed; they would have to talk later. If I was the git that disrupted it, I may as well be the one to mend it. His mind was set; he could hear Harry's silent pleas for help.
Ron and Hermione rose, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts as they made for the Great Hall. Once they began adorning their plates with eggs, biscuits, and fruit, Ron heard fluttering overhead. He found that strange; could it be an owl? They normally did not receive post on Sundays; not because the owls did not travel for weekends, but most students never got any mail on Sundays. Too hungry to care, he piled food in his mouth, as if this was the last meal he would have for the next year. Downing another glass of pumpkin juice, he stopped only to lick his lips and observe as a letter was dropped into Hermione's lap. He leaned close beside her and stared at the letter in attempts to see the sender.
"Who's it from, 'Mione?" He scanned her face for any answer as she lifted and carefully opened it. With a soft gasp, she quickly closed it and eyed her food as a distraction.
"'Mione?" He gave her a worried look. "What'd you get?" His tone changed from concern to curiosity.
"Oh, just a stupid letter," she stated quietly, trying to get it out of his sight. He lowered his arm from its resting spot on her shoulder and held her hand that clutched the parchment.
"Are you okay?" He inquired. She looked extremely nervous and her hand trembled in fear.
"It's nothing, Ron," she continued as he released a chuckle.
"C'mon, it can't be that bad. It isn't a Howler, after all."
"Ronald," she sighed in exasperation. He knew something was wrong; why was she acting so strange? The parchment fluttered to the ground, her grip finally failing. He stooped to grab it, beating her to it.
How much?
The words flooded back to her and she grimaced in regret.
How much do you love him?
The note was clear enough, but Hermione was still unsure as to who penned it and for what purpose. She hoped that Ron would be able to understand her emotions and thoughts, though she knew how oblivious he was. She wished for the benefit of the doubt, but many times, he was too hotheaded to comprehend.
How much?
She wanted nothing more than to prise the parchment from his clutch but knew it was useless and would result in much more harm.
You know he will not understand.
The scrawl that occupied the mysterious note now pieced together her thoughts; she looked deep into his eyes as he scanned the letter. Deep blue pools now becoming ocean like as sparkle tears formed.
"Ron, stop. It's foolish, rea-" she was interrupted by his darting orbs. Ron continued to read, seemingly growing with rage every word, every letter.
"What the-" his cheeks grew a fierce red as he sought out words he could not find. "Nothing, eh?" His voice cracked and he slammed the parchment down on the table, aggravated. Bolting out of his seat, Hermione saw his tear-drenched facial expressions.
He never understands.
He tore across the Great Hall with Hermione close on his tail.
"Ron, stop overreacting." As soon as the words issued from her lips, she knew it was a bad idea.
"Overreacting?! What's Krummy got to say to you? Asking you over for another summer?" He exploded into the entrance hall when Hermione finally caught up with him. She clasped his arm and wheeled him around. "I suppose he just decided to send you a letter."
"Yes. Ron, I haven't sent him an owl in a long time."
"Look, if you weren't serious about us, then why didn't you tell me?"
He stormed off, scaling the stairs toward the common room and sniffling.
Hermione remained at the foot of the stairs, on ground floor. Chasing him would only provoke him to rash actions. She seethed, cursing the note as if it instigated all of this. Whatever was going on, she knew that she had to take matters into her own hands. Hermione recollected the content of the scrawl while leaning on the railing. She gritted her teeth and spun around at the sound of a slow, malicious drawl.
"How much do you love him?" Draco quoted the note.
"What?!" She barked back, unaware of why she was even communicating with him.
"How much do you love Weasley?" He sneered.
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, are you willing to lose him? Krum has just been itching to send you another love letter by owl."
"You…!" Her eyes grew wide with hatred as she refrained from strangling him.
"We both know what we want. If you help me get rid of Finnigan," he spat in extreme disdain, "If you take him out of the picture, 'Krum' stops sending letters. Understood?"
She glowered at him, her brow furrowed in disgust. So many emotions coursed through her veins, she was torn between screaming, setting him on fire, or remaining calm. She chose to remain calm in his presence.
"Look, I want to show Potter that we need each other. In order to convince him, Finnigan needs to stop pursuing him. His constant harassment, his lashing hormones…the bloody prat has to leave him alone. No Seamus, No Krum," his face revealed masked sincerity, and thus was the only reason Hermione continued to bear him.
"How do I know you'll keep to your word?" She attempted to fight back her curiosity, but she knew Draco would find some way to get between her and Ron. It had taken the redhead a long time to react to her subtle hints; now was not the time for any Slytherin to interrupt.
"Is that a risk you'll willingly take?" Draco held a faint plea in his eyes, though he still let out the brutish façade he had maintained for so long. "What you don't seem to get is that, no matter how much you deny 'Krum', Weasley is hotheaded. He won't see past the notes."
Hermione turned and started back hastily, trying to avoid Draco's torments.
"I'm sure he'll appreciate the first kiss, no, Hermy-own?" He mimicked Krum's accent and mispronunciation. "Fourth year, wasn't it?"
"What?!" She was now near tears as she halted, peering over her shoulder at the blond. "You didn't-"
"Yeah, I did. After the Yule Ball. Honestly, I'm not stupid."
"It meant nothing! It just-" she rose her voice in a shrill fury. She should not have to explain anything to him.
"Nothing to you, maybe. Weasley will think a bit differently, I should think," he paused, feeling assured Hermione would comply.
"Arg. Fine," she wiped away the tears that dried on her skin.
"No Seamus, then?" Draco grinned; he knew he could get to her.
Harry climbed the steps up to his dormitory and, sliding through the door, met eyes with Seamus. The playful browns danced with youthful joy at the sight of Harry, and all Seamus received in response was a shy grin.
"Harry?" Seamus whispered, "What's wrong?" He sensed that his mate was not the same, and he longed to be the shoulder Harry would lean on.
Harry shook his head slightly, thinking Seamus deserved more of him. He paused; maybe they did need to have a chat.
Seamus stalked over to Harry, placing two very protective hands on his shoulders.
"Tell me what's wrong. I want to help you, sexy," Seamus lowered his chin, peering into Harry's face once again. Harry shrugged, wishing he could drop the burden he felt.
"Seamus, I don't know what's wrong with me." This made Seamus frown; he reviewed the words Harry spilled, and evaluated them.
"Do you want to talk? There's nothing to be afraid of," Seamus reassured, easing Harry back on his bed. He rested on his knees in front of Harry, still awaiting any response. He did not want to see him feel this way.
"You're so good to me, Seam," Harry stated matter-of-factly. Why was he so lucky to have Seamus? And why didn't he want to spend every moment with him? Clearly there is something wrong with me, Harry declared. I'm not going to find anyone half as good as him. Harry twisted his mouth in confusion; he doubted he'd find anyone who loved or even liked him. His dating history was not full of success, and it hardily even existed.
"Harry," Seamus started, touching Harry's chin sweetly, "You know I'm always here for you."
Harry prayed that Seamus would stop talking, though he knew that silence would just be more painful. He dreaded what would be said next.
"I like you, Harry. Very much…I-I love you."
Harry gasped, and realized his thoughts were true. No one would ever care for him a quarter as much as Seamus displayed. That was not counting what his mate thought.
Seamus placed his hands down on the bed on either side of Harry, and started to stand, when Harry flung his arms around Seamus and pulled him in. They kissed; Seamus was wide-eyed. His speech muffled by Harry's tongue, he broke free of Harry to utter, "Are you sure?"
Harry gave a gentle nod and sat on the bed, waiting for Seamus. He was too shy to instigate anything, and hoped that his friend would leap at the opportunity. He did. Pouncing on the bed, he climbed on top of Harry, running his hands through his jet-black hair. Seamus let out an excited giggle, and renewed Harry's kiss. This time, much more passionately. Harry felt Seamus grope around him, his hands sliding down Harry's chest in search. Finding his target, Seamus fingered the button of Harry's jeans. When Harry did not protest, he unbuttoned them. Harry ripped at Seamus' shirt, too nervous to be successful, and surrendered to massaging his back. Sighing, Seamus eased Harry's pants off, revealing deep green boxers that complimented his emerald eyes. Harry's nerves conquered him, and he fumbled as he tugged at Seamus' collar. Lifting himself off of Harry, he hovered over him and made his way down Harry's chest. Harry felt warm lips drop kisses here and there, and Seamus finally reached his lower stomach. Realizing how scared Harry was, Seamus attempted to comfort him by easing up. This only caused Harry more problems; Seamus could see he was clearly enjoying it, and so he continued. Seamus lowered himself casually back on Harry, feeling his arousal as he rested his chin on his stomach. He bore deep into Harry's eyes, wishing he knew every inch of his mind and body. Harry was now his favorite sport. Just as Seamus renewed Harry's lust with more kisses along his stomach, they both heard the door to the dormitory slam shut.
"Harry? Oh shit-" Ron's face twisted in a mixture of embarrassment and horror. Seamus met glances with him, quickly falling off Harry and regaining his balance on his feet. Ron raised his hand to his forehead in frustration, shielding his eyes. He could not believe what he just saw. "Er, um…" he stuttered, staggering back toward the door. Harry, to Seamus' surprise, leaped out of the bed and dashed over to Ron. He tapped his friend on the shoulder, hoping to salvage everyone from the horrid awkwardness they all experienced. Harry looked back at Seamus and, leading Ron back down to the common room, prayed his friend was not going to freak out on him.
"Ron?" Harry started, as he stumbled into the common room.
"Harry, I'm sorry about that. Ugh. I didn't know…" Ron slapped his forehead hard, as if in repentance for his stupidity.
"No, Ron," Harry continued, stopping his friend, "I think it was good you came when you did."
Ron raised a brow, even though he thought he knew what his mate was saying. Harry was trembling, not violently, but enough for Ron to tell something was wrong.
"Did he hurt-" Ron spoke through gritted teeth.
"No, er…I was just saying that…look. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lead it that far…"
Ron grimaced, not wanting to here about Harry's experiences with Seamus.
"Look, mate, can we just drop it? Next time I'll just remember to knock," he said the last in half jest, easing the mood. Harry added nervous laughter at the end of his statement, but choked on his own façade.
"Well, I'm not staying locked away in here on such a beautiful day. I'm gonna go for a walk." Ron paused, reviewing his thoughts before he spoke. "Do you want to come?"
Harry shook his head, declaring that he'd be right down in a moment; Ron left him alone with his own worst enemy: himself. He contemplated what had just happened, wondering if he should go back up to Seamus or join Ron outside. Frowning, he trudged down the staircases, and burst out of the castle, scanning the grassy outside for his friends.
Ron sped across the grassy fields, feeling extreme violent impulses; he strained to fight back his tears. His mind was at war with his heart; as much as he wanted to be sensible, he could not ward off his rage. Maybe she's telling the truth; she's not one to lie. Ron wished he could sincerely believe it, but his heart was bleeding in his chest. He never felt so rejected before in his life; he probably screwed up by storming off during breakfast, but he was used to his incompetence. I always fuck up, he yelled in his thoughts. He loathed himself, rivaling the hatred he felt toward Krum. Spotting Hermione off in the distance, he swiveled on his feet and hurried off in a different direction, praying she would not confront him. He was not afraid of what she had to say, but what he would do; he lacked control of his actions and temper. Ron approached the closest tree and shifted his weight, leaning up against the tree. He shoved off all thoughts of Hermione and directed all his efforts on calming himself. What will I do with Harry? He shook his head, trying to dismiss the image plastered between his eyes of Seamus and Harry. Sometimes he did not understand him at all; one second, Harry was madly in love and the next, he was thanking his friend for walking in on him with his lover.
"Ron," a soft whisper lingered in his ear, and he closed his eyes in serenity. He sighed, and opened his eyes once more, seeing Hermione's face hovering right in front of him. Her voice shook, and she seemed very cautious, rethinking every word she would give him. "Please."
He watched her lips move, unable to leave, and avoided any attempts at eye contact that she made. Crossing his arms in front of him, he allowed Hermione to continue.
"Krum means nothing to me. I thought you knew that," she pursued his conscious, "There's only one person I want to be with."
Ron breathed deeply, raising his gaze into her brown pools; he looked straight into her soul, detecting sincerity and honesty. She really means it, you ruddy fool, Ron cursed silently. He shrugged, still questioning the origins of that letter she received. Ron leaned forward, replacing the burden on his feet. He cast away any ill thoughts, devoting his full attention to her. Stringing together words, he cleared his throat.
"I'm sorry," he stepped forward and grabbed the hand that hung at her side in confidence. After a moment, he changed the subject, "So, it seems Harry and Seamus have…er…made up." To his surprise, Hermione did not smile or change in appearance; instead, she remained indifferent, as though his words never registered.
"'Mione?" he called to her, coaxing her to question his knowledge.
"Oh, really?" she inflicted a minute amount of emotion into her response, keeping a nonchalant air.
"Yeah. Needless to say I'll be weary next time I go up to the dormitory," his eyes lit up playfully, and he glanced at her. He could sense in her a bit of aggravation at his statement. Her brown eyes reflected an inner struggle, as if she was debating what feeling she would adopt next.
"And Harry is okay with that?" Hermione sounded doubtful, though she picked up on Ron's embarrassment.
"Well, I should think so," Ron discarded the comments Harry had said about how he was thankful Ron had found him. His sarcasm seemed to discomfort her and he longed to decode her thought process. "What's wrong? You should be excited for your friend." Ron was disgruntled; how could she not show any compassion for her mate?
"I dunno. I guess I just think he deserves better," she fought out, still unsure of what to do. Hermione did in fact want the best for Harry, which made her display of feelings that much harder. She herself did not know what to think.
Ron glared at her as if she was completely mental. "What? You stood up for Seamus just yesterday! Honestly, I really don't understand you." Ron let off a bit snippy, and Hermione punished him with a frown.
"Excuse me for looking out for him," she growled. Ron rolled his eyes in frustration; he should've known it wouldn't be long until they were back to squabbling.
"Right. So now I'm a bad mate, eh? Fine then," Ron renewed all doubts he had as he stormed off back toward the castle, leaving her still fuming.
