Author's Note: Ok, sorry for the delay in updating. I had some real-life projects to finish up. But this is about to change.
Two things have lit a fire under my butt: seeing "Order of the Phoenix" and the fact that Deathly Hollows comes out on Saturday.
I was really disappointed in the movie, but whatever, they can't all be winners.
I realize that as of next Saturday, this story will become AU. The thing of it is, I really don't care. I have to get this stuff out of my head and onto paper so I can sleep at night.
That having been said…I will be posting a chapter a day for the next week, to try to get as much of this out as I can.
That having been said…"If You Can" and it's as-yet untitled sequel will continue on to completion, despite whatever may or may not happen in Deathly Hollows.
I really appreciate everyone's reviews, and hope that you all can stick with it until it's done.
On a personal note, I will not be reading Deathly Hollows until this series, "Beautiful Disaster," and another HP fic are complete. I don't want to get influenced and lose the things about these stories that make them my own.
Enjoy!
It started out subtly. Little things that most people wouldn't notice. But he had spent quite a bit of time observing her and knowing her, so he was able to pick up on it before anyone else.
She was acting strangely. Different from before. This shouldn't have come as a shock, since in many ways she was a different person the day she set foot in the Burrow that summer. She had matured without them; that was true. And it made her different. She was freer, and God help him, even more beautiful.
But this was more different.
The first thing he noticed was that she was tired. She hid it well, as she was used to hiding fatigue. She would be a good little soldier. But it was a different kind of tired. It wasn't "I've been up all night studying" tired. It wasn't even "I'm exhausted from saving the world" tired. This was different. With the prior tireds, she had always had an aura of satisfaction about her.
This new tired had a kind of manic excitement about it. She was downright giddy.
Not that anyone else could tell.
He would watch her during class. She still had all her work completed perfectly. She still handed it in early. She still raised her hand to answer nearly every question the professors asked, regardless of the subject. She still patrolled the halls and kept the prefects on a tight schedule.
But something was different.
It was almost as though he could hear her heart beating faster; like he could feel the blood pumping through her veins at a more fevered pitch. But she slouched in her chair now between questions, when she thought no one was looking. She kept her eyes closed more than usual, as though the sunlight were bothering her. She took deeper breaths; to clear her lungs out perhaps? He could see it, hear it, feel it.
But he didn't have anyone to confer with, not even Harry. Because no one knew her like he did.
What was he doing to her?
And Ron KNEW that somehow, Draco Malfoy was the reason Hermione was so exhausted. So help him. He was going to get to the bottom of this, even if he had to kill that poncey bastard in the process.
And would anyone really mind at all if that happened?
Luna was always surprising everyone. So in an ironic sort of way, Ron wasn't at all surprised when she pounced on him in the Great Hall.
"Ronald, I need to speak with you."
"Yes, Luna," he replied as he turned to face her.
"Hermione has been acting so strangely lately." Ron was momentarily tempted to mention something about a pot and a kettle when she continued. "And I really didn't think anything of it until I saw her coming in so late the other night."
"Luna, what are you talking about? Where was Hermione?"
"Well, see, that's the strange thing. She and Draco Malfoy were coming in through the main entrance last Friday at…oh, it had to be 11:30."
"What the hell was she doing?" Ron asked, more to himself than his companion, but she answered him anyway.
"I really have no idea. But she apparently had to wear some sort of uniform."
"Huh?"
"She was wearing a strange hat and pointy toed boots. And then they danced down the hall towards their dorm. Very strange, indeed." Then she seemed to get distracted and wandered off.
Ron was on his feet and out the door before Luna had even passed the end of the table.
He was up to the Head suite in less than five minutes. Thank God Draco wasn't there. He pushed into Hermione's room without knocking and found her on her hands and knees under her desk.
"Hermione!" he snapped, startling her so that she knocked her skull on the underside of the desk.
"Ow!" she sat on the floor and rubbed her head as she looked up at him. "Ron, what is it?" The look on his face frightened her. "Has something happened to Harry?"
As he walked over to check her head and help her up, Ron was trying to remember to breathe. There Hermione sat, wearing the most SHOCKING thing he had ever seen her in. Did that skirt even cover her rear end?!?! And she was wearing high heeled boots that nearly came to her knees.
"What are you wearing?!?!" He cried, as he heaved her up off the floor. This was a mistake, since, as he got closer, he noticed that her top was cut so low that her CLEAVAGE was showing.
He took a deep breath. Ron knew that Hermione was attractive. If anything, he thought she was too attractive for his piece of mind. The one consolation that he had was that she had never seemed bent on flaunting it like some girls did, his ex-girlfriend among them. He wanted Hermione in long, body-obscuring robes. He didn't want anyone else to know what she really looked like. He tried not to cotton out why he wanted to keep her covered completely at all times.
But now here she was; covered, yes, but exposing enough to make him drool. This was worse than how she looked at the wedding, much worse.
"I don't think I like your tone, Ron," Hermione's eyes narrowed into the danger zone.
"This is just a shock, is all," he replied lamely, not wanting to get himself kicked out before he figured out what was going on. "Why are you dressed like that?"
"I'm going out," she answered as though that were the most logical thing in the world.
"Going out where?"
"To a club."
"Why?"
"Well, if you must know, to audition djs…."
"Are you ready yet?" came a new voice from the hallway. Ron didn't want to turn his head. He knew who he would see and wanted to prevent the unstoppable violence that would result. Hermione, however, had a ready answer.
"Just about, yes," she looked from the doorway to Ron, who was still clutching her arm. He gritted his teeth and turned his head. Sure enough, there stood Draco Malfoy.
"You're going out with him?" Ron whispered fiercely, trying very hard to control himself.
"Yes," she turned her body fully towards Ron, "if I tell you why, you have to promise me that you won't say anything to anyone else. Not even Harry." He ground his teeth. He REALLY wanted to know, even though he KNEW he wouldn't like it.
"Fine," he spit out.
"Draco and I are in charge of planning a leaving ball for the graduates in June. We have been spending the past few Fridays going to different clubs to find a good one. McGonagal knows all about it. I am perfectly safe…or, well, as safe as I can be."
He paused to think. How had she gotten away from him? Ahh…Quidditch and babysitting Harry. After a week of classes, and homework, and practice, and watching to make sure that Harry didn't do anything nobly suicidal, come Friday he was exhausted. He usually passed out obscenely early. He could have kicked himself.
He sighed and Hermione realized that he wasn't going to fight her, at least not yet. "Hey," she sought his eyes, "we can talk this whole thing out tomorrow, ok?"
He nodded in a defeated way.
"Good. But for right now, I have got to run," she paused, as though trying to decide on something. "I'll talk to you later."
In another five minutes she and Malfoy were laughing their way down the stairs, while Ron was left standing bereft in her bedroom.