A/N – Somehow, I knew LavenderB would approve of that last one, heh heh. As Trav said, my first real venture into the 'red light district', and I'm glad it measured up. It wasn't too wild anyway :) … Thank you for reviews, they push this story along. ~I want to live in the centre of a circle~ Shez (quoting from an AGT Police cover, now, JWBean – getting tricky, aren't you? *grin*) PS – This one won't be as long. Sorry.
~
Ron went and sat in the common room early the next morning. He still couldn't sleep. The place was deserted, which he didn't know if he liked or not. He wanted to be alone, and at the same time wanted to be in a room full of people. It was always like that the day after Christmas – that coming-down feeling, when you're still trying to hold on to the party atmosphere.
At half past six, Harry came yawning down the stairs. Ron turned slightly in his armchair to face him. His hair was sticking up one side, and he was just putting his glasses on.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Harry threw himself down into the armchair next to him, and didn't say anything for almost a minute.
"What happened to you?" he asked eventually. "You never showed."
"Yeah."
"Neither did Hermione."
"Yeah, I know."
Harry eyed him expectantly. Ron didn't elaborate.
"So," he prompted finally. "What happened?"
"Merlin, nothing, OK? Nothing happened. We just didn't feel like it, OK? I mean – you know. You don't have to hassle me about it." He said all this in a rapid, defensive rush before settling back against his cushions, pulse suddenly racing.
Harry blinked at him, clearly taken aback.
"Sorry," he said.
There was another silence, quite pregnant, and then Ron found himself speaking.
"OK, something happened, but not what you think."
"I didn't think anything."
"Well, good. Because we didn't. I mean – we weren't going to. We kind of – I don't know, it just got a bit out of hand – and – and she was – Merlin – shit, Harry," he finished lowly, dropping his head. "And Malfoy – bloody Malfoy practically accosted her in the hallway last night."
"What?"
"Yeah, after dinner. Said that she should be with him, and that I didn't deserve her."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Malfoy? Fancies 'Mione?"
Ron shrugged helplessly. He couldn't feel angry yet (it was too early in the day), but he was definitely tense. His shoulders muscles were all knotty, and he wriggled them uncomfortably. Harry was staring at him in disbelief, and in the end sat back heavily in his seat.
"Well," he said. "I wouldn't have picked that." He hesitated. "So – what did you do?"
"I pushed him up against a wall and told him not to touch her again."
"Ron …"
"Don't tell me I shouldn't have," he snapped. "I'm sick of hearing it. What else was I supposed to do, tap him on the shoulder and politely escort him down the hall, offering a few choice explanations as to the faithful nature of relationships?"
He felt a bit breathless after this burst of eloquence, and sat back in his seat.
Harry looked at him for a few moments, and then shook his head.
"I wasn't going to say you shouldn't have. I was going to say it's a bloody good thing you confronted him, or he'd have taken it the wrong way."
"Oh." He paused, a bit confused. "How d'you mean?"
"I mean – well, what Malfoy wants he gets. It's how things have been his whole life."
"That's just what 'Mione said."
"Right. So if you were to imply that you didn't mind so much about him … er, taking a liking to her, he'd probably run with that."
"You think?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. That's just my opinion. I don't think I'll ever work Malfoy out."
"I don't want to work him out," Ron said darkly.
There was another silence.
"So what's all this with Hermione then?" Harry said.
The question took him by surprise, and he plucked at his jeans for a while, stalling for time. Finally, he sighed and scratched his head.
"I don't know," he said frankly.
"Are you getting – you know, serious?"
Serious? he thought. Well, he was taking it seriously, and he was pretty sure she was too. And it felt serious, in quite a literal sense. Sometimes he'd just be looking at her, and he'd get this heavy, solemn feeling in his chest, as though it was very important that he kept sitting there, listening to the things she said and watching her work.
It was important. He didn't know how he'd managed before, pretending otherwise.
"I think we're serious," he said finally. "We are. But all of that – ah – the – you know –" He was blushing, without wanting to, and Harry waved a hand at him.
"Don't tell me," he said, looking
both amused and uneasy. "I don't think I want to know."
Ron took that moment to deflect the subject away from himself and Hermione.
"What about Gin?" he asked.
"What about her?"
"I mean – you know, are you 'serious'?"
"Ah – yeah. I guess."
Ron had a sudden, hazy and quite horrifying picture of Ginny and Harry doing something like what he and Hermione had been doing the previous night, and pushed it away with an almighty effort. He didn't know what he thought of that – he knew it made him feel edgy, and half-worried, but couldn't concentrate too hard on the concept.
"Right," he said. Harry was looking rather thoughtful.
"It's weird being like this," he said eventually. "Don't you think?"
"Being like what?"
"Being – you know, like you said, dating someone."
"What about Susan?"
Harry frowned. "With Susan – I don't think it was the same." He glanced up, saw Ron eyeing him, and went a bit red. "Anyway," he said hastily, "I just thought it was weird. And I wondered where you got to last night. Just as long as you didn't fight or anything. I couldn't stand that again."
"We don't really fight these days," Ron admitted. "It's easier just to let her win."
At that moment, Ginny came down the stairs from the girls' dorm. Ron watched Harry's face soften, literally.
"I heard you," she said sleepily, wrapping up her dressing gown.
"From all the way up there?" Harry asked, and she shrugged.
"I'm a light sleeper." She paused on the bottom step. "I'm not interrupting?"
"No," they said simultaneously, and she narrowed her eyes at Ron.
"Where were you last night?" she said challengingly.
Harry looked at him sideways, and Ginny put her hands on her hips.
"Er – long story," he mumbled eventually. "I'm going to breakfast."
He got out of there as fast he could. Talking to Harry was one thing. Talking to Ginny, who was bound (by some kind of girls' oath, he suspected) to tell Hermione anything he said, was an entirely different kettle of fish.
~
The rest of the school returned two days later, and it was straight into class. Ron wasn't focussed. He was entirely unfocussed, in fact. It was too distracting to have Hermione around. Every time he looked at her, he'd have wild flashes of memory – of kissing her, touching her hair to fasten the necklace on, passing her a jug of bloody milk at breakfast. When she crossed her arms over her chest, he'd inevitably remember standing in her room after Christmas dinner, shirtless, and it made his heart pound.
Things were a little awkward between them at first, but soon cleared up. They didn't discuss it, but were somehow back to normal fairly quickly. He wanted to bring it up – what had happened, that was – and at the same time, found it impossible.
She'd developed a habit of fiddling with her necklace chain. It was an unconscious gesture, and he loved it. Again, he never pointed it out. She was working hard (she was always working hard), but remarkably under-strained. Usually she would have been at breaking point by now, but she seemed calm and collected.
"It's only tests," she said once, in the middle of their Potions study, and Harry and Ron both dropped their quills in surprise.
"What do you mean, only tests?" Harry asked, quite warily. "These are N.E.W.T.s, 'Mione. Didn't you always say that the N.E.W.T.s are the grounding for our future?"
"Oh well," she protested, sounding a bit flustered. "There's always another way for getting what you want."
Ron didn't know what he wanted – beyond a repeat of that night in her room, maybe. He didn't know what he was good at, and he didn't know what he even ought to try and be good at. Mostly he pretended to himself that he had another few years of school left, so he wouldn't have to decide.
Hermione didn't hassle him. He'd expected her to, but she could be good like that.
She was good like that.
Draco, he avoided like the plague. He feared that if he saw him, he'd beat the living daylights out of him, and Hermione would hate him forever. Intellectually, he understood that she defended him because she felt sorry for him – but the wilder, more emotional parts of his brain could only see Hermione telling him to let Draco harass her. It bothered him a lot, and at the oddest times. He'd want to get up in the middle of the night, and check that she was safe in her room. He never did, but it was a disconcerting feeling, and he wished it would go away.
At the end of their first week back, at the beginning of January, Harry scheduled a D.A. meeting. Lupin was right, it had been a while since they'd met, and Harry was clearly feeling a bit guilty. In his invitation note, he apologised to everyone for being so haphazard about practices, and promised they'd be more regular from then on. Ron could barely suppress a tired sigh when he heard – defence against the dark arts was all very well, but teaching a bunch of 4th to 7th years about jinxes when he could have been finishing his Divination (or at least pretending to) did not hold much appeal. Still, he had to support Harry (as Hermione pointed out), and for that reason was standing in front of a group of thirty students in the Room of Requirement late Saturday afternoon.
"Hi," Harry said loudly. "Welcome back. Hopefully you haven't forgotten all the things we did over the break, but if you have, that's OK. We'll go over them now and refresh your memory. So, where did we start? Hermione can …"
Ron stopped listening at this point. His gaze had found Draco, standing at the back of the group with a blank expression and heavily shadowed eyes. His fists clenched, he couldn't help it, and Hermione noticed and put a hand on his elbow.
"What?" she asked softly, concerned.
"Nothing," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just – Malfoy."
She sighed impatiently, and then squeezed his arm. "Ignore him," she whispered. "And don't worry about it."
Ron suddenly heard his name.
"Huh?" he said, turning quickly to face Harry, and Harry raised his eyebrows at him.
"Basic jinxes. Weren't you listening?"
"Sorry. I was."
Harry half-grinned at him. "Right. Do you two want to demonstrate?"
Ron looked at Hermione, lost for words. He didn't think he could jinx her, not after their Tutorial all that time ago. He supposed he'd have to.
"I'm fine with it," she said, one hand straying to her necklace again, and he was just about to reply in reluctant agreement when somebody else spoke.
"I will."
It was Malfoy – how did he know it was Malfoy? He'd stepped forward out of the crowd and they parted for him like waves. His expression was bland, his hair slicked off his face, and he was wearing soft leather gloves.
"Er – that's alright," Harry said hastily. "We've got our pair."
"No," said Malfoy. His voice was firm and commanding. "Don't make him jinx his girlfriend."
"It's not like I'd rather you jinxed her," Ron interrupted (mildly taken aback by his own daring), but Malfoy barely cocked an eyebrow.
"I didn't mean her," he said. "I meant you. I'll duel you."
"This isn't a duel," Harry said, but they weren't listening anymore. Ron's blood was angry in his ears, and he found himself stepping out into the empty instruction space afforded them by the Room of Requirement, silently preparing jinxes in his head.
"Ron …" Hermione said, and then stopped. He didn't know what she was thinking, but she could probably tell that reason was not going to penetrate his mind at this moment. Malfoy was standing very still at the opposite side of the space, wand in hand.
"Right," Harry said finally. "OK.
You can demonstrate. Fine. Elementary jinxes. Step back, everyone, and watch."
They did so. Ron threw a brief glance at their 'audience'. They were whispering
to one another, excited by the palpable tension in the room.
Ron wasn't excited exactly, but the atmosphere was making his head spin.
"Take it away," Harry said, and he figured that was his cue.
"Stupefy!" was his first reaction, and it came spinning out of his mouth.
Malfoy deflected the spell (he'd probably been waiting for it), and returned with one he'd never heard before: "Lacrimo!"
To his shock and embarrassment, Ron burst into tears, and Malfoy's eyes glinted. A bloody crying jinx! Well, if humiliation was his tactic, Ron could play that game.
"Praesultify!"
It was one Hermione had taught him. Malfoy began to dance like a crazy person, and there were scattered titters from the crowd. He recovered very quickly and was soon coming back at him.
"Caligare!"
Ron couldn't see clearly, and felt so dizzy that he thought he might be sick. He staggered sideways, and heard a stifled scream from one of the girls.
"That's enough," Harry was saying, "you're well beyond elementary jinxes now," but Ron hadn't had enough, not nearly.
"Accido," he shouted, with sudden clarity and a graceful flick of his wand, and, to his relief, Malfoy went tumbling over. The Falling Jinx. It worked just as well now as it did in practice.
There was a long silence in which Malfoy didn't move, but then he sat up slowly. Harry hurried over to him.
"Are you OK?" he asked, but Malfoy shrugged him off.
"Fine."
"Sure," Harry said awkwardly. "OK. He's fine. You're fine, Ron?"
"Fine," he said, wiping his face – it was still wet with tears.
"Well – that's some jinxes there, then," said Harry, attempting to continue, but obviously shaken. "I don't expect you to be at quite that level. They've – er, obviously been doing some extra work. Now if you can get into pairs, we can go over Stupefy again, and maybe Ron will show you that Falling spell."
They obeyed immediately (Harry had a way with groups like this), and Ron risked a glance at Hermione. She was staring at him with an expression of both exasperation and anxiety. He came a bit closer to her, and she shook her head at him.
"What?" he protested. "Malfoy wanted to. And I didn't hurt him."
"You're so childish, both of you."
"Am not."
She gave him a look, and he sighed.
"Why can't boys just – I don't know – talk it out?" she said hopelessly. "It's not so hard, is it?"
"It's bloody hard!"
"Fine, alright." She held up a hand as if to say 'I quit'. "Just don't do it again, OK? I was – you worry me, when you do that."
He couldn't stop a smile. "You were worried?"
"Well, of course I was. You were practically fighting to the death, there."
"And – me dying wouldn't be a good thing?"
"No," she said, rolling her eyes and laughing a little. "You dying wouldn't be a good thing." She grew suddenly more serious, and nudged him with her shoulder. "Definitely not a good thing. So be careful."
"OK," he agreed, equally serious now. "OK, I'll be careful."
"Good."
"Are you done?" Harry called from across the room. He was standing with Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.
"Nearly," Ron returned. He leant in to give Hermione a quick kiss, but her lips stayed against his longer than he'd anticipated, and he soon found himself wishing he wasn't standing in a room full of people. After a short while, he pulled away.
"What was that?" he asked hoarsely, and she shrugged, flushing.
"Don't know," she said.
When they moved to start their jinxes, Ron saw Malfoy watching them. He met his eye briefly, and then looked away.
~
Hermione and Ginny disappeared soon after the meeting ('girl talk', the boys were informed) and Harry and Ron were the last left in the room. They piled the cushions and tidied up, and then headed out the door.
Malfoy was standing in the corridor. He'd clearly been waiting for them.
"Hi, Malfoy," Harry said, trying not to sound too surprised.
Malfoy didn't reply, but looked straight at Ron.
"You want to fight a real duel?" he said shortly.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Wizard's Duel. Midnight tonight. You name the place."
"Malfoy, what is this?" Harry said wildly. "You can't just hold Wizard's Duels in a school."
"Let Weasley decide," he said, "if he's man enough."
"Ron, come on, just leave it."
Ron chewed his lip, thinking hard. It wasn't much of a choice really. He could fight Malfoy, and put him in his place once and for all – or get dropped on his arse. They could also be found, and if Hermione ever heard about it, she'd freak. Then again, if he didn't fight him – well, what did that say about his courage?
Malfoy opened his mouth, and Ron spoke before he could.
"Sure," he said, resisting the urge to swallow. "I'll fight you. Room of Requirement."
"Who's your second?"
"Harry," he said promptly, and Harry groaned.
"Do you have to do this?"
There was a silence, and then both Ron and Malfoy nodded.
"Yeah," Ron said. "We have to."
"I'll see you there," Malfoy replied, before spinning on his heel and striding away. Harry and Ron stood next to each other, and then Harry slapped him over the head.
"Ow! What?"
"You bloody git!" Harry said furiously. "A Wizard's Duel?"
"What?" he said again, indignantly. "What am I supposed to do, just let the guy walk all over me?"
"Yes! Yes, and keep yourself out of trouble, and in Hermione's good books. Even if he wins when you fight, he doesn't get her! You realise that, don't you? This is pointless. It's totally pointless."
"Harry," Ron said, cutting him off. "I have to do this, OK, if only to feel like I'm doing something."
"Shit, Ron …"
"You don't know what it's like, to feel like someone's constantly eyeing off your girl. The way he looks at her – as though he's going to grab her next time she goes past and drag her away. You don't know what that's like, Harry."
Harry stood in silence, jaw clenched.
"Will you be my second?" Ron asked eventually, and Harry exhaled.
"Alright," he said. "I'll be your bloody second. But I'm not telling Hermione."
"Neither am I."
Harry sighed again, and Ron felt a tingle of relief and anticipation in his stomach. It was going to an eventful evening, if nothing else.
~
Latin TranslationsLacrimo – to weep , shed tears
Praesulto – to leap or dance before
Caligo – to spread a dark mist around, to make dizzy