Author's Notes: Two weeks. It's been two whole weeks since I posted. Y'know, I really wanted to get this one done inside of one week. However, the Fates had something else in mind for me. One night, as I was working into the wee hours of the morning, banging away on this chapter, my computer crashed just as I was about to press SAVE. For whatever reason, MS Word didn't back up the document like it usually does in such a situation, and I lost a considerable portion of what I had written. So, instead of having this thing ready for you inside of a week, here I am at exactly the two week mark from my last posting putting up the next chapter of the story.
I really DO hope not to take two weeks for the next chapter, but I honestly kind of enjoy the relaxed pace doing it every two weeks provides for me. Being able to relax while doing this story is kind of a new experience for me, but the thought of only putting out two chapters a month (roughly) is pretty discouraging. I'll see what I can do about getting the next chapter out in a week. But don't cry if it doesn't happen...I'm only human, and despite all evidence to the contrary, I do have a life.
Edinburgh Love, Ann Malfoy, Cantletharrygo, CutewithAcapital-Q, fatyellowrat, Avanell, Dizzy0305, katie1985, Elytha, Trude, mugglemamma, emmy1124, Emma.Jane-HPfan, Moony3005, IsI Wisi, Lady Anja, embergrl9010, the written princess, MissFinnegan, Tiffany M, kareem33, randomguy1517, Shlesha, ronniemione, sarah-keyko, not for lack of trying, Emm04, Jacob's-One-Girl, Ravenhaired2, Nosta82, Aly-Cat 101, EnglishGirlVerity, marauders rox, Lane Joey, allenterrill, skippyboo, Larelles, kellymc1, xxafterglowxx, screamxheart, zsdvnn, Foxy-Steph, Kirsty-Luan, marvelous-fanwriter, hctb, ronlover997, HeatherRiddle, LadyInWriting, beautifulshamrock, shadowmonger, lemondrop43, watched 2 much tv, LaRay93, CwamBeta, Chick Flicks- Rock 'N' Roll, james87 have all reviewed my story, and as such they have my undying gratitude!
Aftermath is rated M for naughty stuff and language.
Disclaimer: JKR owns this lot...the lucky bint!
"Aftermath"
Chapter 35 -- Let's Give 'Em Something to Talk About
Ron couldn't hide the confusion and hurt in his eyes as he looked at Hermione after she turned away from his kiss. He looked around, and the eyes that weren't currently focused on George and Angelina dancing in the middle of the sitting room floor were focused on him and Hermione. A pitying look from Katie Bell, and a smug grin from Lavender Brown made his stomach drop.
"What do we need to talk about?" Ron asked brusquely. He wasn't aware of anything he did wrong, and he found himself folding his arms across his chest in a stance he'd often take when he and Hermione were having one of their rows back at Hogwarts.
"Not here, Ron," Hermione said, placing a hand on his arm as she looked around. She couldn't help noticing that Lavender and Parvati were watching them with interest, whispering back-and-forth to one another; a We Need to Talk situation was obviously more gossip-worthy than George dancing with his new girlfriend, "Let's go to your room."
Ron's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline as his face paled considerably. Not only was there something they needed to talk about, but it was of a sensitive enough nature that Hermione didn't want to discuss it in front of their friends at the party. Considering how, in the past, they'd never seemed to care who was around to bear witness to their blazing arguments in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione's current discretion did not bode well.
"Alright," Ron nodded numbly at Hermione's suggestion of retiring to his bedroom. He slowly made his way out of the sitting room, following her down the hallway to the room he'd allowed her to decorate. He couldn't help feeling like a man being led off to his doom. Walking into Azkaban Prison when the Dementors still served as guards couldn't have felt much worse.
Without waiting for Ron, Hermione opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. Ron hesitated slightly, taking a deep breath before following her in. This was bad; this was very bad. Ron was a serious contender for the title of Thickest Boyfriend Ever, but even he knew that "we need to talk" was bad. Something he'd heard Seamus Finnegan tell him back in Sixth Year ran through his mind.
Hermione stood with her arms folded and her back to the door, looking out the bedroom window. There was a duffle bag on his bed that Ron hadn't noticed before, and he concluded that Hermione must have brought it with her. Ron was about to ask Hermione about the bag, but "we need to talk" echoed in his brain and he doubted that she had brought him in here, away from the prying eyes of their friends, to discuss the contents of her bag.
"We need to talk." This was going to be very, very bad. This was not about some ruddy bag. She wanted privacy, and she couldn't even look at him right now. The next few minutes were likely to be as bad as anything he had ever faced coming from Hermione; Ron was sure of it. This was the end.
"We need to talk." Ron folded his arms across his chest and set his jaw. He spread his feet slightly to give himself more stability for the coming conflict. This was his battle stance, perfected in hundreds of heated rows with Hermione during their years of friendship. A friendship…a relationship…that was now obviously over; but he refused to let it go quietly.
"We need to talk."
"Well…?!" Ron broke the silence a bit harshly. His voice, like the rest of his body was gearing up for a blazing argument, "You wanted to talk, Hermione; so…talk! What is so bloody important that you had to drag me away from the party and all of our friends?" He knew, of course, but he wanted to hear it come from her own lips.
Hermione turned sharply at the sound of his voice. She had been about to tell him not to swear, but his tone had her looking quizzically at him. When she saw the way he was standing there, she couldn't help feeling a bit shocked and dismayed. He was mad at her for some reason; the stance said it all.
"Well, yes, I did," Hermione replied, her tone of voice growing harsh to match Ron's. It was a defensive response, born of years of arguing with him; it was all-but-automatic at this point. She didn't know why Ron was acting so put-out by her wanting to speak in private, especially considering her intended topic of discussion. Whatever it was that had gotten into him so suddenly, two people could play at that game, "I did want to talk, but if the party is so important to you, why don't I leave you to your fun, and I'll just go home?!"
"Oh, no you don't!" Ron snapped, "You're not leaving until you tell me why you're dumping me!"
Hermione's mouth gaped open. He thought she was dumping him? That would certainly explain the hostility, but where would he get such a ludicrous notion?
"What makes you think I'm dumping you?" she asked, her voice losing its venom. She knew she should just come out and tell him the truth and put an end to this misunderstanding, but her curiosity got the better of her. Hermione just had to know from whence the idea that she was breaking up with him had originated.
"I may be an idiot," he growled, eyes glinting spitefully, "But I know what we need to talk means."
"You're right, Ron," Hermione agreed, smirking. Before she could even finish her sentence, she could see Ron's demeanor change. His shoulders sagged and his face now bore an expression of ultimate despair; his arms dropped to his sides as all the fight seemed to drain right out of him, "You're an idiot. We need to talk does not mean we need to break up! It means WE NEED TO TALK!"
Ron's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. She wasn't dumping him. He wasn't going to lose her. He was a complete and utter prat for no good reason. His ears flashed red, and soon the rest of his face followed suit. Completely mortified by his reaction to Hermione's "we need to talk", Ron dropped his eyes sheepishly and began staring at his feet.
"I thought…I mean…I'd always heard…" Ron was having trouble getting the words out. An explanation was in order, but he felt he had no excuse for the way he'd behaved…for jumping to conclusions and become hostile towards her.
"What did you hear, Ron?" Hermione asked, interrupting him. She put her hands on her hips in a typically defiant Hemione-esque way, but a smirk still played on her lips, "And from whom did you hear it?"
"Err…y'know…" he shrugged, unable to look her in the eye, "Blokes talk about things…at night…in the dorms…over Firewhiskey…"
"Ronald Weasley…!" she exclaimed in exasperation, her smirk fading only to be replaced by a stern, McGonagall-esque expression, "I don't know what is worse…the fact that you would take dating advice from the likes of Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas, and Seamus Finnegan of all people…or the fact that you would sneak Firewhiskey into the dorms! That is strictly against the rules, and you were a Prefect!!"
"'Mione," Ron chuckled, looking up at her. He couldn't help laughing at the way she was standing there, getting all worked up over rules he broke two years ago, "You do realize that I haven't been a Prefect for quite some time now, right?"
"Yes, I do realize that, Ron," Hermione snapped, "And don't you laugh! You are still in hot water with me, mister!"
"I know…and I'm sorry," he said, the laughter dying on his lips quickly, and his face once more taking on an apologetic look, "I'm a complete and total prat."
"Yes, you are," she nodded, still looking stern.
"I'm an idiot."
"A big idiot!"
"A total twit."
"Indeed!"
"A right tosspot, I am, and…hey, you know you can stop agreeing with me here any time now," Ron said, scowling at her a bit as she nodded along each time he espoused how stupid he had been.
Hermione allowed a smile to cross her lips and she walked over to him, reaching up to stroke his cheek, "I'll stop agreeing as soon as you stop being right."
"Hey!"
She laughed at him, and stood up on her tip-toes to place a quick chaste kiss on his lips. "I can't believe you would assume I wanted to dump you because I said we needed to talk."
"That's Seamus' fault, that is," Ron said, deflecting the blame to where he felt it truly belonged, "He told us that every time a girl had told him 'we need to talk', it was because they wanted to break up."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "And did any of you thick-headed boys ever think that, maybe, the reason these girls were finishing with Seamus whenever they said 'we need to talk' was because of how much of a git Seamus is?"
"Err…well…the thought did cross my mind," Ron said, nodding, "But when I heard you saying 'we need to talk', thoughts of Seamus being a git were replaced by the mind numbing fear that you finally realized I'm rubbish as a boyfriend and you were finished with me."
"You're not rubbish, Ron," Hermione said sternly, looking him dead in the eye, "And if you don't stop saying that sort of thing about yourself, I really will finish with you…understand?"
"Err…yeah…sorry," he mumbled. Still, he was confused about something, "If you aren't going to break up with me, then why wouldn't you let me kiss you earlier?"
"Ron…!" she rolled her eyes yet again, "We were in a room surrounded by our friends! It's a bit too embarrassing to start snogging in front of those people!"
"We've kissed in front of people before," Ron reminded her, "Besides, who says we were going to start snogging?"
"We've never kissed in front of those people before," Hermione explained. She knew that her fellow Gryffindors would be relentless in their teasing should she and Ron break out into a spontaneous kissing demonstration in front of them, "And I say we would have started snogging. That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."
"You wanted to talk about snogging?" he asked, still confused.
She quirked an eyebrow at him, and gave him a look that sent tingles through Ron's body. It was a look of lust and longing.
"'Mione!" Ron exclaimed, shocked, "You don't mean…?"
Before Hermione could answer Ron's unfinished question, there was a knock on the bedroom door. The young couple rolled their eyes in unison at the intrusion. Before either one of them could see who it was, the door opened, and Seamus popped his head into the room.
"Oy, Ron!" Seamus called from the doorway, causing Ron to grimace and wonder what now? His former dorm-mate smiled at him and waved at Hermione, "I hope you two aren't having a knock-down-drag-out in here."
"What do you want, Seamus?" Ron said, his voice completely devoid of humor, "And make it quick."
"We want to get a game of cards going," Seamus said with a grin, "And I don't mean Exploding Snap. You interested?"
"Not right now," Ron said curtly, shaking his head, casting a glance back at Hermione.
"What about when you and Hermione are done…talking?" the Irishman asked with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"Maybe," Ron said, shrugging. Playing cards with the boys was not exactly what he had planned for tonight, especially if Hermione really meant what he thought she did. Still, Ron figured Seamus might leave sooner if he placated him by seeming at least a bit interested, "Who's playing?"
"Me, Neville, Harry…I think Ginny…most likely Dean, if he can get off the ruddy dance floor," Seamus replied, "Right now the bloke's dancing with Luna Lovegood!"
The sound of the Screaming Horntails' wizard-rock anthem, Wands a'Fire could be heard coming down the hall, and Ron could well imagine Luna doing one of her crazy dances to the pounding beat while Dean did his best to keep up.
"Parvati and I want to play, too," the raspy sound of Lavender Brown's voice made its way into the bedroom from somewhere behind Seamus.
Ron rolled his eyes again and glanced over at Hermione; she put her hand over her mouth to hide the minute smirk that was crossing her lips. Ron couldn't help wonder how many more of his old schoolmates were congregating in the hallway, and how long they'd been there.
Seamus grimaced at the intrusion and his head suddenly disappeared back into the hallway. "Lav, darlin', do you and Parvati even know how to play poker?"
"It sounds dirty," Parvati said, her voice sounding a bit slurred from beyond the bedroom door.
"It's a Muggle card game," Seamus could be heard saying with a chuckle, "Me Da and his mates play once a month; they smoke cigars, eat crisps, and get drunk on Muggle beer. He says it's the best time he's ever had losing a week's pay!"
"You play with money?" Lavender asked, having never played before.
"Sure," Seamus said, smiling at her, "You gotta bet something, or it's just not as fun. 'Course, if you don't want to part with your hard-earned galleons, we could always play strip poker." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at the two girls.
"Strip poker definitely sounds dirty," Parvati said with a drunken giggle.
"I'm not playing strip poker," Lavender said sternly. She began unconsciously rubbing at her neck.
Seamus' eyes widened as he realized what having to get undressed in front of other people would mean for Lavender. He was about to say something when Ron poked his head out into the hall, an annoyed look on his freckled face.
"No one is playing strip poker," Ron said sternly. The last thing he needed was drunken debauchery involving his old schoolmates while he was trying to spend time with Hermione.
"'Course not, mate, I was only fooling about," Seamus grinned, "So…where can we set up?"
"I don't care," Ron said, waving a hand dismissively, "Do it in George's room…he's not using it right now."
"Brilliant!" Seamus exclaimed, putting his arms around Parvati and Lavender and making his way up the hall to tell the others, "Thanks, Ron…now don't get too involved rowing with Hermione. We'll save a spot for you at the table."
"Don't bloody count on me showing up," Ron grumbled to himself as he shut the door and turned his back to it, once again facing Hermione. She had taken up a spot, sitting on the edge of his bed, watching and waiting patiently for the audience to leave the hallway.
She smiled brightly as he looked at her, "Where were we, Ron?"
Ron had done his best to resist the urge to slam his bedroom door shut and cast an Imperturbable charm on it so that he and Hermione could finish their conversation without interruption. Playing cards with his drunken friends was far down on the list of things Ron wanted to do right now. Right now, he wanted to know what was in her bag, and whether or not Hermione meant exactly what he thought she meant.
"I believe you were about to tell me what you…we…needed to talk about," he said, moving over to sit next to her on the bed, "I don't suppose it involves what's in your bag, does it?" His curiosity about the bag had gotten the better of him…especially if she meant what he thought she meant.
"A bit," she confessed reaching over and pulling the duffle bag onto her lap. She unzipped it but turned away from Ron so he couldn't see what was inside, "No peeking, though."
"Fine…I won't peek," Ron consented, "Now tell me what's inside the bloody bag!"
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his excitement. He was so cute, like a kid at Christmas. His ebullience was practically contagious, "No swearing, Ron. I'm not going to show you what's in here if you keep swearing."
"Alright, alright," he said, rolling his eyes, "But c'mon, show me already!"
Hermione smiled happily as she reached into the bag, but before she could pull out whatever she had hidden in that bag of hers, there was another knock on the door. Ron growled in annoyance and turned to face the door. He was about to yell "sod off" at whomever was interrupting them this time, but before he could open his mouth, the door opened and his best mate popped his head in.
"Alright there, Ron?" Harry asked, looking at his best mate with a concerned look flashing in his emerald green eyes. Ron's anger was displayed on his face, and Harry assumed…erroneously…that it had something to do with Hermione.
"Alright," Ron grunted, grimacing slightly. He didn't want to tell Harry to bugger off, but the Boy-Who-Lived could practically be rechristened the Boy-With-Impeccably-Bad-Timing. He couldn't help glaring at Harry with a look that said "go away". Harry, however, was oblivious to it.
"Hermione?" Harry cast a look at the young woman who had been like an older sister to him for the better part of the last seven years.
"Never better," Hermione assured him, smiling brightly at her best friend. She, like Ron, was getting annoyed at the interruptions, but she was much more tactful than the man she loved, and was therefore able to fake a smile much more readily than Ron.
"Just checking," Harry replied, "I heard a disturbing rumor that you guys were in here breaking up."
Hermione rolled her eyes for what felt like the eighteenth time that night, "And the progenitor of this rumor would be…?"
"Uh…well…Seamus and Lavender both seemed pretty convinced that you were in here breaking Ron's heart," the black-haired young man explained a bit sheepishly.
"And you believed them?" the bushy-haired brunette replied, quirking an eyebrow at her friend, "Honestly, Harry, I thought you knew me better than that."
As annoyed as Ron was by Harry's interruption, he couldn't help but smile. Anytime he heard Hermione begin a sentence with "honestly", he knew someone was in for a bit of a lecture, and he couldn't help but smile about it…even when it was directed at him. If Hermione only knew how many times he had said something he'd knew she'd lecture him about, just so he could hear her say, "Honestly, Ron…"
"I do know you better than that," Harry said quickly, trying his best to stay out of trouble with Hermione. He'd seen Ron on the receiving end of Hermione's wrath far too many times in the past to want to put himself in that position, "But back in Sixth Year, Seamus made a pretty convincing argument that 'we need to talk' meant breaking up."
Ron chuckled at the mention of Seamus and his break-up experiences. He couldn't help finding humor in the fact that he and Harry had jumped to the same conclusion concerning Hermione's sitting room declaration, and both had cited Seamus and his dating experience as to blame. Great minds truly did think alike…or, at least, the minds of young men with negligible dating experience.
"I suppose I shall have to thank our dear Mr. Finnegan for supplying the two of you with such a skewed definition of what it means to talk," Hermione replied. Her tone was mirthless, but there was a twinkle of humor in her warm, brown eyes.
"As long as you two aren't breaking up, I'll be going," Harry nodded, preparing to retract his head from the room and return to the party, "Don't be too long, though; there are a lot of rumors floating around the party as to what it is you two really are doing in here…even if the break-up rumor was wrong."
"We'll be out shortly," she assured him.
Harry nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Once their best friend was gone, Hermione and Ron turned their attention back towards each other.
"Considering your dating experience to this point," Hermione said in her best, authoritarian, Prefect's voice, "I'll forgive you for going all nutters on me earlier."
"Thanks," Ron said sheepishly, blushing to the tips of his ears, "Like I said before…I'm rubbish at this whole boyfriend thing."
"You're not rubbish, Ron," she huffed, getting tired of hearing him tear himself down, "We're both new to this sort of thing, so there's got to be a bit of a learning curve. Just don't let it happen again."
Ron nodded and smiled to himself at the term learning curve; he enjoyed learning Hermione's curves during their month together, and hoped to spend some time tonight re-learning those curves and more. Hermione noticed his little smile and quirked an eyebrow at him.
"What?" she asked, trying to read his eyes for an answer.
"Err…nothing," he lied, blushing under her gaze, "Just…erm…glad you're with me."
She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a stern, appraising look, as if she didn't quite believe him, and was trying to suss out just what it was he was keeping from her. However, when Ron smiled that lopsided smile at her…the one he reserved just for her…Hermione's icy, businesslike veneer melted and she started to feel quite warm and squishy inside.
To show that all was forgiven and that there really was no chance whatsoever of them breaking up, Hermione put her arms around Ron's neck and pulled him into her for a deep, meaningful kiss. While they were wrapped up in the kiss, Ron slowly slid a hand over the coarse surface of Hermione's bag, searching for the unzipped opening and the mysteries that lay within.
Hermione sensed his movement, however, and quickly slapped his hand away, pulling back from the kiss.
"I said no peeking, Ronald!" she said with mock indignation. A playful little smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes sparkled gaily.
"I know what you said, 'Mione," Ron whinged, pouting at her, "But it's not nice to keep a bloke in suspense. What've you got in that bloody little bag of yours?!"
Hermione's brows furrowed and she cut him a harsh, reprimanding look.
"Err…clearly, what I meant to say," Ron backpedaled upon seeing the look she was giving him, "Was 'could you please show me whatever it is that brought in that…erm…nice….little bag of yours'…please?"
Hermione couldn't help but smile. Ron was just so cute! And he was all hers! Surely he deserved to know at least something that was in the bag.
"Since you asked so nicely," she said, smirking at him, "I'll tell you what's in here; it's your flat-warming gift."
Ron cocked an eyebrow at her. He thought for sure that the contents of the bag had something to do with what they were going to talk about. Unless she was saying that was going to be his present. If so, well, then Hermione was absolutely the best gift-giver ever! It would totally make up for her giving him a homework planner for Christmas during Fifth Year.
"What is it?" Ron asked, his voice quavering a bit with anxiousness and nervousness as he looked back-and-forth between Hermione and the bag in her lap. It definitely wasn't a tree, a giant bowl, or something to protect him against imaginary creatures. That much he knew.
"Close your eyes and hold out your hands," Hermione said, grinning happily. Her father used to make her do that whenever he would give her some little gift just for being his little girl, and it always made her giddy. Now, being the one on the giving end, it made her just as giddy.
She waited patiently for Ron to comply with her wishes, even though she was bubbling up on the inside, feeling anything but patient. When he finally did comply with her…quite reluctantly…she pulled the flat-warming gift she brought specifically for Ron out of the bag and gingerly placed it into his large hands.
"Alright, you can look now."
Opening his eyes and looking down, Ron's mouth dropped open in shock at what he was holding in his hands. Beneath two strands of neatly tied ribbon…one scarlet, one gold…lay a book. It was not just any book, however. What Ron held in his hands, tied up neatly with a bow in the colors of House Gryffindor was a care-worn, well-read, dog-eared copy of Hogwarts, A History.
Ron looked up at Hermione, confusion clouding his blue eyes. "Hermione, is this…?"
"I've read it more times than I can count," she offered by way of an explanation, "And since you did offer to read it…"
"Wait…I what?!" Ron's confusion was escalated and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.
Hermione smiled mischievously at the consternation written all over Ron's face as she pulled a carefully folded piece of parchment from out of her bag. Clearing her throat, she unfolded the parchment and began reading the words scrawled upon it. Words written in an untidy scrawl that was all too familiar to Ron.
"'Dear 'Mione,'" she read aloud, eyes shining. Ron's face clouded as he realized that this was a letter from him. No doubt an incriminating letter judging by the glee radiating from her lovely face, "'You've just got to come to dinner. Please? It's real important to Mum that the whole family be here, and you know she includes you when she says family. Please, 'Mione, I'll do anything to get you to come. I'd even read Hogwarts, A History…that's how desperate I am to get you to come. Please, please, please, please, please! Love, Ron.'"
Ron covered his face with his hands and hung his head in shame. He had been so desperate to get her to attend his family's dinner with the Minister for Magic that he would have…and did…promise her anything. Little did he imagine that a letter he sent weeks ago would come back to haunt him now.
"You know," Hermione began, reaching a hand over to gently rub his knee, "I had already decided to attend your family's dinner after you brought Crookshanks to me…"
"But at the dinner," Ron interrupted, "You said you'd only decided to come because I called you childish and immature."
She quirked an eyebrow at the reminder, and Ron paled slightly hoping he hadn't opened up another can of flobberworms.
"Yes, well, I couldn't very well let you get away with calling me those things, now could I, Ronald?"
"Err…no?"
"The truth is, I was planning to attend," she repeated, "But then all these letter started winging their way to me…poor Pig, he must have been exhausted by the time you were finished. And since you saw fit to make certain promises in some of those letters, I decided to hold you to them."
"So you really expect me to read this?" he asked, looking down at the daunting tome that was so carefully and lovingly tied in ribbon.
"Well, I suppose you don't have to," Hermione said, sounding a bit disappointed, "I just wanted you to have it because…well…it's very important to me, and since Hogwarts is where our history started, it just seemed natural to want to give you this."
He looked into her eyes and saw the love showing so clearly in those chocolaty-brown orbs; love that was for him and him alone. He smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss her.
"I love it," Ron said, reaching up to gently caress her cheek, "I may not be able to read it as fast as you…but I promise, I will read it."
"Thank you, Ron," she smiled brightly at him, and he knew he would do whatever it took to keep that smile on her face for as long as he could.
Ron stood up and moved over to the bookshelf by the window. He carefully placed the book she'd given him in a spot of prominence on the shelf, facing out into the rest of the room as if on display. He turned and saw that Hermione was smiling proudly. He moved to her and leaned down, kissing her once more.
"There was another gift," Hermione said once they broke the kiss and Ron had taken a seat next to her again, "Although I'm a bit embarrassed about how I acquired it."
"Why would you be embarrassed?" Ron asked, looking concerned.
"Well…I had a crush on you for the longest time, Ron," she explained, "You fought a troll for me and sacrificed yourself for Harry and me; you belched up slugs for an entire day because you were defending my honor. You threw yourself in front of Sirius Black…twice…to protect us…once on a broken leg! Even though we argued, whenever danger threatened, you were like some sort of white knight, throwing yourself at danger to protect me. How could a girl not fall for that?
"You remember how Colin Creevy was always taking photographs of everything? Usually it was Harry, but every once in a while, he'd take a picture of something…or someone…else. Sometimes, it just happened to be you," she started to blush as her embarrassing secret was being revealed, "I…I paid Colin to make copies of any of the photos he took with you in them. I have quite a scrapbook of our Third, and Fifth Years. I even have a few of Second, Fourth and Sixth…although not many.
There were obvious reasons for Hermione not having many photos from those three years. Colin and Hermione had both been petrified during Second Year, and Viktor Krum and Lavender Brown had come between them during their Fourth and Sixth years.
"So…I've got all these photographs of you…and one of them was taken Fifth Year, during a D.A. meeting," she was too embarrassed by her confession…the revelation of her schoolgirl obsession with him…to actually face Ron right now, so she kept her eyes locked on the bag in her lap, "It's you, of course, and you're standing with Fred, George, and Ginny."
Hermione took the framed wizard photo out of the bag and handed it to Ron. Just as she said, he was standing there with the twins and Ginny, the lot of them dressed in their Hogwarts uniforms. The four redheads smiled for the camera and after a few moments, Ginny started waving while the twins turned and gave each other a mischievous look.
"This is brilliant," Ron said, looking over to Hermione. She was still looking down at the bag, "I know George will love it. He'll probably want to hang it right in the sitting room near the mantle."
"I'm glad," Hermione said, nervously fidgeting with the straps of her bag. She was still to embarrassed to look at him, "And about the other photographs…the ones in my scrapbook…"
"That's brilliant, too," he said, reaching out and taking her hand reassuringly, "I wish I'd have thought of that; I only have a couple of pictures of you from Fifth and Sixth year that I made Colin give me…under threat of detention."
"Ron, you didn't!" she exclaimed, finally looking up at him, an outraged expression on her face, "How could you abuse your Prefect powers that way?"
"Well, I never actually gave Colin detention," Ron said with a shrug, "It was just a threat. Besides…I'd break every rule there is for a chance to closer to you."
She blushed as he said that. Hermione knew that it was true. Ron would do whatever it took to be close to her. He had done ever since they'd been friends. After all, wasn't that what their rows were…a chance for the two of them to concentrate solely on each other? Arguing or not, they held each other's attention, and the rest of the world faded away when they started up. Now that they could do more than argue, it wouldn't be any less true when they gave each other their full attention…the rest of the world would just fade away.
If they'd let it.
Yet another knock on the bedroom door drew Ron and Hermione's attention away from each other and back to the world outside. Before Ron could get up to answer the door, or even call out to tell the intruder to come in, the door flew open and a distressed Neville Longbottom stood in the door.
Ron heaved a great, frustrated sigh as he stood up and crossed the room towards his friend.
"Neville…please don't take this the wrong way," Ron said moving over and starting to push the young man out of the room, "But bugger off!"
"Ron!" Hermione snapped at him with exasperation. She got up and pushed Ron aside to see what Neville wanted, "What's wrong Neville?"
"I…I really think you two should come out here…now!" he said, his eyes shooting back-and-forth between Ron and Hermione, "It's Harry…!"
Ron and Hermione exchanged a worried glance for a split second before the two of them raced out of the room and hurried down the hall towards the sitting room. When they got there, the party was a scene of complete chaos. George was physically restraining Harry who stood over Dean Thomas. Dean was sitting on the floor holding his right eye while everyone else just stood around gawking at them.
"What the bloody Hell just happened?!" Ron exclaimed as he took in the sight before him.
Neville moved up next to Ron, having caught up with him and Hermione after they scarpered out of the bedroom, "Harry attacked Dean and punched him right in the face," Neville explained.
"Why would Harry do such a thing?" Hermione asked, her voice choked with confusion.
"Because," Neville said, looking at the two new arrivals, "Dean kissed Ginny."
-- End Chapter 35 --
Author's End Notes: I told one of my reviewers that I'd give Harry a bigger role in this chapter, and he barely even appeared in it at all. Must'a been Opposite Day when I said that. I also said I'd reveal what, if anything, happened with Ginny and Dean durin their time together...I had my fingers crossed when I said that! I do intend to both give Harry more "screen time" (even though this is a Ron/Hermione fic above all else) and reveal the secrets of Dean and Ginny's time together...next chapter. Maybe. Of course, you can't count on me right now to follow through since I believe the bloody tossers at Starbucks gave me DECAF when I clearly asked for "black coffee with as much caffeine as you can legally put in a drink without killing someone".