The giggling was stifled, but Ron instantly recognized who the source of the sound was -- Ginny. She and Harry were still sitting in the sofa in front of the fire, still talking (and probably holding hands under the throw pillows where he wouldn't see) and making plans about the last Hogsmeade weekend of the year, which was scheduled right after exams. He ought to go over to the sofa and break up their cozy fireside chatter -- after all, it was expected of him, being an overprotective prat of a brother. But then again, he had more important things to do, such as... reliving the memory of other Hogsmeade visits. During his first visit in third year, he and Hermione had gone by themselves, since Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley, didn't sign the consent form that would have allowed Harry to go. And yet, they had a good time. They went everywhere and did everything together, from admiring the owls in the post-office to gaping at all the wizarding equipment at Dervish and Banges, from walking around the Shrieking Shack to stuffing themselves with Honeydukes sweets, and finally gulping down butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks before heading back to the castle. Why couldn't things have stayed like that between them? Why did they have to go off on a wrong turn along the road and turn everything into a weird and painful disaster? Oddly enough, they seemed to have taken that wrong turn during fifth year. He rubbed his temples as the memories flooded back.
The first Hogsmeade weekend of their fifth year was an even greater disaster than the start-of-term banquet. Sitting on the foot of his bed after having slammed the door of his room, Ron wondered if he had to live out the entire year from catastrophe to catastrophe until Voldemort was destroyed, or took over the world, the end-results depending on his mood. Never had he wanted so badly to strangle Hermione and kiss her at the same time. It was only when he felt his forehead smarting did he realize that he just slapped himself for thinking about her in that way again. What was it, the hundredth time that day alone?
He had thought about her as soon as he woke up that morning, hoping that he would be partnered with her on security duty so he could keep an eye on her and that duck-footed git. Going out, are they? Over his dead, rotting, worm-infested body! He jumped out of bed, gathered a fresh set of robes, made a mad dash for the Prefect's bathroom and into the shower, then out of the shower and into his clothes, then out of the Prefect's bathroom and back into his room to grab his shoes and his wand, and then finally out of his room and out of the portrait hole. But where to go next? A light switched on inside his head. He sprinted down several corridors until he came to the door he was looking for. Why leave to chance something that can be arranged to begin with? At first, McGonagall did not take kindly to his intrusion, but once he explained that Hermione might not be feeling as well as she pretended to be, yet would be insulted if she was not included in security duty, and gave a promise worthy of ten gentlemen to make sure she would not overexert herself, his head of House took out a quill and made a few hasty revisions on a certain schedule, and commented on chivalry being a dying virtue, but that there was some hope, as long as young men like him existed in the world. His guilt gnawed at him until he saw Hermione's face turn pale when McGonagall announced that they were partners on security duty.
What had happened afterwards was nothing short of a bloody mess. He leaned his head on one of the posters of his bed and tried unsuccessfully to rub the memory of that near-bloodbath off his mind and into the wooden pole. Unfortunately, said wooden pole was not as smooth as it had been a century or two ago, and a splinter lodged itself into his skin. He swore loudly, ran to the mirror and plucked the splinter off. His broken skin started to bleed. Great. The wound was right in the middle of his forehead. Until it healed, he would be reminded of just how big of a prat he had been to her. He knew that only the extremely enraged expression on his face was the only thing that made the mirror refrain from making any comment.
When she didn't come down to dinner that day, he went to the kitchens and asked one of the house-elves to bring her something to eat, as he knew she wouldn't even bother to answer him if he knocked on her door. Thinking that she probably would not leave her room until Monday, he asked the house-elf to continue bringing food to her room, and to ignore her instructions not to bring her anything until she agreed to come down to the Great Hall for meals again. As the house-elf chattered away about being glad to be of service, a thought occurred to him. Was Hermione still crusading for elfish liberation? He thanked the elf and walked out of the kitchens with a plan. He went to the library and nearly gave Madam Pince a heart attack when he told her he needed help with a very important research project. He was directed to several shelves, and he emerged a few hours later, smelling of mold and library dust, with a few smudges on his face and several pieces of parchment's worth of information. He traveled back to McGonagall's office and nearly gave her a heart attack when he asked permission to use the Transfiguration classroom the next day for a very important project.
The following morning, he passed around a message to the younger students to meet him after breakfast in McGonagall's classroom. He had arranged the chairs in a circle, and the desks stood flush against the walls, to serve as seats in case the chairs gave out. He was not disappointed. The classroom was packed.
"What's up, Ron?"
"Hey, congratulations again for making Keeper."
"Yeah, that was some awesome flying you did back then. Wouldn't have missed it for the world."
"Good luck next week, though. The Hufflepuffs have Krum."
"That's not very fair, is it? Krum's a professional, for Merlin's sake!" The room erupted into a series of angry murmurs.
"All right, all right, everybody settle down. That's not what we're here to talk about," Ron called out. The room went quiet. Uh-oh. How was he supposed to go about this stupid scheme of his? He gritted his teeth and went on. "Actually, I wanted you to give me a little lesson in history -- Muggle history, that is. At least half of you third-years are taking Muggle Studies, right? And those of you who are Muggle-born probably heard a few things from your parents and grandparents. I need to know what you can tell me about prejudice, cruelty and oppression in the Muggle world."
"Hey, that's not a very cheerful topic!"
"Can't we talk about something else?"
"Yeah, it's Sunday! We're depressed enough with our lessons during the week."
"I know, I know, but humour me, okay? This is very important. I wouldn't ask about it if it wasn't."
For the next two hours or so, he heard facts and stories that made his hair stand on end. He learnt about such things as slavery and slave trading, the Holocaust, apartheid, and other acts of inhumanity. How could people be capable of inflicting such misery on each other? If people could do those things to their fellow human beings merely on the basis of outward appearances, can other creatures be expected to fare better at the hands of either Wizard or Muggle? He felt tears stinging his eyes. Now he began to understand why Hermione had been so passionate about freeing the house-elves. She probably got the shock of her life when she learned that the wizarding world was not that different from the Muggle world. And he had mocked her for her efforts. He realized that now more than ever, he needed to make up for all the stupid things he had said and done to her.
Silence reigned in the room. He looked at the students, and saw that most, if not all of them, were affected by what they had just heard. Now was the time to give them a chance to do something about it. But he had to talk to them calmly and sensibly, and most of all, he had to avoid being argumentative or emotional. He had to persuade them, but at the same time make them think that what had to be done had been their idea all along. "Thank you for sharing all that with me. I know we can't do anything about the past, but there is something we can do right here, right now. I don't know how much of a difference we can make, but we'll never know unless we try, won't we? First, it's my turn to give a little information for those of you who are Muggle-born." He spent a few minutes talking about the plight of the house-elves, making a few observations on the similarities that had occurred to him while they were giving him the Muggle history lesson. Then he steered towards the point he wanted to make. "Some of you may have heard about a little group that Hermione started last year, the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare--"
"Oh, spew--"
"Well, I was going to suggest that she change the name to -- how about the -- Elfish Liberation Front? E.L.F. would look better than S.P.E.W. on the badges. I'm supposed to be the treasurer of that bloo-- er, that group. I really didn't take the whole thing seriously. But that was before I learnt all these things from you today. To tell you the truth, I'm not very good at making speeches. I'm sure Hermione would do a much better job. But maybe we can help her make a difference. If we give just a little support to the cause, perhaps the right people will take notice. It's all about giving the elves the right to choose -- if they want to be paid, which family they want to serve, if they want to have a day off once in a while. I know a lot of them are bound by loyalty and love to the families they serve. If they want to stay on with their families and work for free, that's fine. But they should not be forced to serve, or to punish themselves if they have, well, a difference of opinion with the family they work for. They are powerful magical creatures, and they can perform magic even without a wand. Maybe it's fear and ignorance that drove wizards into enslaving house-elves. Maybe it's jealousy of their magic and what they're capable of doing. But it has to end someday."
He stopped to look at the younger students' faces. What he saw encouraged him to go on. "Maybe we can help bring that day closer. Would you like to give it a try?"
All the Muggle-born students and most of those from wizarding families responded enthusiastically. He was surprised that only a few of them harboured doubt and contempt about the issue, but he thoroughly expected that most of them would be third-years. Hermione had spoken to them before, and they had brushed her off. It was such a pity that wizards so young could have such deep intolerance.
"Thanks. This means so much, you have no idea. Okay, since S.P.E.W. hasn't met for quite a while, we'll have to get a hold of Hermione to call a meeting, and change the name of this group. Then, we'll surprise her by bringing out a list of 'new members.' That'll put her knickers in a twist." The students laughed. "So, everyone who's interested, come here and sign up. There'll be a small fee, nothing much, just enough to make the badges and leaflets. But I'll go around later to collect it." He came out of the classroom a few minutes later with over a hundred names on his list.
He didn't see Hermione until she came down to dinner that night. She sat between Harry and Ginny, and carefully avoided looking in his direction. She looked pale and haggard, and her eyes were burning. He sighed. She was not going to make anything easy for him, was she? But then again, he had been a huge prat. He deserved what he got from her. She just pushed food around on her plate, then stood up and left after a few minutes. He was just about to get up and follow her when--
"Don't you dare go after her and make her cry again," Ginny hissed.
"Stay out of this, Ginny," he retorted.
"Can't you see that whatever you did to her is killing her?"
"What the hell did she tell you about what I did?!"
"She didn't have to tell me anything. I knew it was you, and that you did something incredibly stupid, because only you can make her that upset."
He should get angry with Ginny for saying that, he really should. But then again, she was right. "That's why I have to make it up to her. Before it's too late."
Ginny looked at him for a few moments, as though she was trying to judge his sincerity. She seemed to be satisfied by what she saw in his eyes. "Are you sure you're not going to make things worse?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. Can I go now?"
"All right."
"Good luck, Ron. You've practiced groveling and begging, right?" Harry said.
"Right."
"I just hope you can work that into the first two seconds of catching up with her, before she kills you. It's going to be tough looking for a new Keeper before next week's match."
"You're taking this Captain thing too seriously, mate. Now bugger off and let me apologize in peace." Harry chuckled and waved him off.
He left the Great Hall and went straight to the library. He took two steps inside, and promptly collided with a stack of walking books. Some of the more massive volumes landed squarely on his large feet.
"Ow! Er, sorry. Here, let me pick those up--" He looked up and came face to face with Hermione. She had the stricken look of someone who had fallen into a pit and broken both legs.
"Hermione--"
"R-ron, look--" she said at the same time. He indicated that she should go first. "About what happened yesterday, I'm really sorry about... about everything," she said, not looking at him.
"What do you mean, you're sorry? I'm the one who acted like an idiot yesterday. I wanted to say... I'm sorry." He knew that what he had just said wasn't enough, and that what he felt he had to say next was too painful to put into words. Still, he gritted his teeth and went on. "You -- you should be able to... to go out with someone you -- like. And you have every right to make friends and even... even -- fancy who-whoever you want. I know I don't have any right to stop you from doing those things. It's just that I... I'm -- worried about you. I just wanted to be a -- a good friend to you. But I haven't been doing a good job of it. And I've acted like a prat, haven't I?" She looked into his eyes, and he instinctively knew those weren't the words she wanted to hear from him at all. He almost groaned aloud -- he really had made it worse, just as Ginny was warning him earlier.
"N-no more than usual, I'd say," she answered, looking away again.
"Well, I'd like to make it up to you." He looked at the books he had been picking up. They were the same books he had been reading last night. "What's all this for? Do you have another extra credit project or something?"
"No, it's..." She looked as though she was struggling to decide whether or not to tell him what she was up to.
"What is it? Maybe I can help."
"You... you're going to help me do research?"
"Hey, it's not like I don't know how to do it! I DID work on Buckbeak's appeal in third year, and it was a pretty thorough job, too."
"No, it's not that. I think you did a great job on that appeal. It's just that... this is for S.P.E.W."
"What about sp-- er, S.P.E.W.?"
"I got a letter from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They found out about S.P.E.W. and wanted me to give them a list of members and its manifesto. But when they saw there were only three members, they told me I had to have at least one hundred members by the end of the month so S.P.E.W. can be considered legitimate; otherwise, it'll have to be disbanded. And if I don't disband S.P.E.W., they'll recommend my expulsion from Hogwarts for creating an illegal organization and attempting to cause disorder in wizarding society. I'm going to write a paper on the evils of slavery, oppression and cruelty, to make them reconsider. I was going to draw some parallels to what Muggles did, using certain historical events. If they'll just give me more time, I'm sure I can..." Suddenly, her shoulders slumped. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'll never be able to keep S.P.E.W. going. I -- it's so hard to fight for something no one cares about." She looked up, and her eyes were swimming with tears.
Ron gave her his best sympathetic smile. This was his chance to make it up to her. But first, he had to tease her just a tiny bit. "Well, maybe we can save S.P.E.W., if you changed the name -- no wait, I was just joking," he added, as she frowned at him. He stepped in front of her so she wouldn't walk away. He shifted the books he was holding so he could pull a piece of parchment out of his pocket. She was still frowning at him as he handed her the paper. "Here, consider this a belated birthday present."
"What's this?" she asked as she unfolded the parchment. Her eyes widened as she scanned it. "Oh, Ron, this is... amazing! There are--" She ran her forefinger down the paper. "--one hundred thirty signatures here. And they all want to join S.P.E.W.? Did you recruit them? When? How? Why...?" Her tears were threatening to fall any second now, but they weren't sad tears anymore.
"Well,... let's just say you finally convinced me you were right about elfish--"
His words were cut off when she threw her arms around him, making him drop all the books he was holding. She laughed and cried on his chest, making small hiccuping noises. He hugged her back and made soft shushing sounds -- they were in the library, after all.
She tried to speak several times, but she only got as far as "oh, Ron," before she broke down again. He held her tighter and waited for her to calm down. Finally, she looked up at him, and her eyes shone as though they were twin suns whose clouds had all been washed away by the rain.
"Thank you, Ron," she breathed. Her arms tightened around him, and then -- she stepped on a very thick book that was lying by her feet so she could draw closer to him. He nearly passed out in shock: Hermione Granger was deliberately standing on a book! She started to lean towards him. Was she going to kiss him? Oh, dear God, YES! Just a bit closer, closer--
"Miss Granger! You -- you're standing on -- A BOOK?!" Madam Pince bellowed behind Hermione. They sprang apart and he started picking up the scattered books. She wiped off the book she had stepped on over and over with her robes, apologizing profusely to the librarian, who continued to huff and splutter like a wounded bear. They hurried to the shelves to return the books under Madam Pince's watchful eye before sprinting back to Gryffindor tower at their top speed.
He couldn't sleep that night. He tried to, but he couldn't. Hermione had almost kissed him. Hermione had almost kissed him inside the library. Hermione had almost kissed him inside the library WHILE STANDING ON A BOOK. He could never fall asleep again, ever, or else he'd start dreaming of kissing her until he was forced to come up for air or die, then unclasping her robes, taking off her jumper, loosening her collar and tie, unbuttoning her blouse, and then... did somebody just light twenty fires inside the room? He started to sweat. 'Quidditch,' he thought frantically. 'Snape playing Quidditch while wearing a green lacy dress, getting knocked off his broom by a Bludger and landing head first into the sand pit. Sprout playing Quidditch, wearing pink fluffy earmuffs and slamming into a hoop. Flitwick--" The fire in his blood cooled down. He sighed with relief, and fell into a dreamless sleep -- for half an hour. Then he started dreaming about Hermione coming inside his room and climbing into his bed, unbuttoning his pajamas, then carefully smearing strawberry jam all over him before... He bolted out of bed, ran for his life to the Prefect's bathroom, and plunged his pajama-clad body in ice-cold water until his skin started to turn blue.
He walked back to his room, nearly slipping on the floor several times, and leaving a wet trail behind him. This was worse than the two times he had... they had... well, what was that? What does one call that... that... thing where you look into your best friend's eyes and find out how lovely they are, and then it was too much to look at them and you just want her to close them, but you still want to keep on touching her as much as you can? Oh, hell, never mind. After the first time it happened, he was able to sleep for at least a few hours before he dreamt about kissing her until she was ready to faint. He woke up out of breath, sweaty and... ahem, alive, down there. He must have had those dreams at least a dozen times, but it wasn't so bad as that night when she accused him of midnight rule-breaking with Wilson. That night, his dreams had progressed further than they ever did before. After snogging her senseless, he had dreamt that he laid her on his bed, lay down on top of her, and started kissing her harder and harder until... he suddenly woke up with a pair of moist pajama bottoms, and was unable to sleep for the rest of the night. By the light of the setting moon, he went down to the Quidditch field and did some exercises and practiced flying maneuvers until it was time for breakfast. But this time, he could hardly do that, as it was just after midnight, and Filch wouldn't care that he was a Prefect. He changed into another pair of pajamas and lay down, resigning himself to staring at the hangings of his four-poster until morning. However, he was able to fall asleep, and for the first two hours, he didn't dream at all. When he did dream of Hermione again, it was of her visiting him in hospital after he had a heart attack while shagging the living daylights out of her. Bloody hell. The cycle continued throughout the week.
He was finally able to sleep soundly the night before Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the year against Hufflepuff. In fact, he overslept, and by the time he sprinted into the Great Hall, his teammates were just about to raise their goblets in a pre-game toast.
"What took you so long, Ron? Hurry up and grab a goblet! We're going to start a new tradition," Angelina barked at him.
He looked around for a goblet, but Ginny had taken the last one and was drinking from it. He couldn't reach out and borrow it, as she was seated on the other side of the table. Hermione, on the other hand, was within reach, and she had just put down her teacup. It was still half full. He reached out and borrowed her cup, giving her hand a light squeeze as he did so. Her cheeks turned pink almost immediately. He would have wanted to say something to her, but then the rest of the team was waiting for him.
Angelina raised an eyebrow when she saw the teacup in his hand. "Er, sorry," he mumbled.
"Never mind, that'll have to do. Here's to Gryffindor..."
"Go, lions!" Harry called out.
"Let's keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best!"
"Shut up, Fred!" Alicia poked Fred in the ribs.
"Let out epitaphs say, 'We tried to win, and we died trying!'"
"Stop it, George!" Katie hit George's arm.
"Here's to us, let's show them what we're made of!" Ron finished.
"TO US!" The rest of the team cried out, and drained their goblets.
Ron drank as much of the tea as he could (it was hot, after all), and gave Hermione her cup back. She smiled at him and mouthed, "good luck!" He felt as though he was walking on air.
As they were walking towards the Quidditch field, Harry lurched a bit to one side. "What's wrong, Harry? Do you feel sick or something?" Ron asked worriedly.
"No, I'm fine. Just nervous, I think," Harry answered.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Whoops!" Harry seemed to be tripping over his own feet.
Ron stopped walking and grabbed Harry's arm to steady him. "Something's wrong with you."
Harry shook off Ron's grip on his arm. "And I told you, nothing's wrong wi' me. Nerv- nerv-, jittery, jiggery, whatever, just-- just that."
Ron scowled at Harry. "Right, that's it, I'm telling Angelina you're nutters."
Harry grabbed Ron's arm and wouldn't let go. "No, you're not. I'm f-- fi-- okay. What're you, a squeakmouse or a-- hey, look at that hair! You're a pumpkinhead!"
"Geroff, Harry! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Hey, did you just swear? Cool!" Alicia said as she bumped into the two boys.
"Alicia, something's wrong with Harry. Look at him!"
Alicia looked at Harry for a second. "There's nothing wrong with him. In fact, he's CUTE! Better-looking than Oliver, even."
"Stop it, you two. Is this some sort of joke you're all playing on me 'cause I'm new on the team? I'm telling you right now, this isn't funny."
"Look, Harry, his cute wittle ears are turning pink!"
"They turn all sorts of colours, too. And his face turns green sometimes."
"Cool!"
Ron was getting nervous and irritated -- a combination that he knew would break his concentration if he didn't settle down. He looked around, and saw Angelina, Katie and the twins already standing in the middle of the field. But they seemed to be swaying from side to side and struggling to remain upright. What's wrong with everyone? He grabbed Harry and Alicia's arms and pulled them along.
"What took you so long?" Angelina demanded as soon as they were within earshot, all the while swaying like a drunk.
"Something's wrong with these two. They're acting odd."
"No, we're not. He's the one whose ears change colour," Alicia giggled.
"See what I mean? They've been like that since we stepped out of the castle."
"Never mind, they'll get over it. Nothing like a good game of Quidditch to wake us up, eh?" Angelina said.
Before anyone else could speak, Madam Hooch signaled both teams to come forward. Angelina grabbed Harry, then Alicia, by the shoulders and gave each of them a quick shake, and then shook herself. The action seemed to clear their heads. Then Angelina and Harry stepped forward unsteadily, as though their feet were trying to walk off in a different direction from where their brains were urging them to go. At last they were able to stop in front of Krum and shake his hand. Ron and Krum nodded to each other, but did not exchange words. Ron watched Harry, Angelina and Alicia carefully as they got onto their brooms. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and all the players flew to their respective positions.
As Ron took his place in front of the hoops, he noticed that the other Gryffindors seemed to be flying erratically. What the hell was going on? He couldn't believe his eyes when the Quaffle was released. Angelina, Katie and Alicia just stayed where they were and let Hufflepuff take possession. Three yellow streaks were hurtling towards him. His teammates didn't even budge. He was almost caught off-guard, but at the last second, he was able to block the Hufflepuffs' attempt to score. He threw the Quaffle as far as he could towards Katie, but Katie just flew around in circles, ignoring the ball, more intent on making her Quidditch robes whip in the breeze. Angelina and Alicia were tracing double-eight patterns in the air, laughing eerily like hags. He looked around at his other teammates desperately. Fred and George were trying to hit each other with their Beater's clubs, laughing maniacally whenever one of them hit the other, or themselves. It was only by pure luck that they were able to deflect the Bludgers several times. Harry was flying an inch off the ground, watching the grass stirring in the current he created.
During the next ten minutes, the Hufflepuffs tried to score three more times, and each time Ron was able to block the Quaffle, but at the cost of being hit by the Bludgers. After one particularly painful encounter, where a Bludger grazed his temple and broke open his skin, Ron waved frantically for a time-out. Madam Hooch blew her whistle. The Hufflepuff team quickly flew down and went into a huddle, but the Gryffindors were still flying around stupidly. Ron had to grab each of his teammates and point them towards the ground. He pulled Harry along to where the rest of the team stood, blinking like owls caught outdoors at noon.
"All right, what the bloody hell do you all think you're doing?" Ron bellowed, while wiping the blood off his temple. He heard a hysterical giggling behind him, and turned around to see Hermione and Ginny standing there. Ginny was looping her hair around and around her little finger, while ogling Harry and tittering madly. Harry stared back at her with his mouth open.
"They've been dosed with Bewildering Draught," Hermione answered. "It's effects on the drinker can best be described as a combination of the Obliviate and Confundus charms. The potion's taste can only be disguised if mixed with something liquid, so it must have been either in the tea or in the pumpkin juice."
"We both drank tea, but we're fine. So it must have been in the pumpkin juice."
"I think you're right."
"Has any other student been affected?"
"No, just Ginny. Whoever did this must have targeted only Gryffindors."
"Has any other Gryffindor been affected?"
"Not that I know of."
"But some of the other Gryffindors must have drunk pumpkin juice this morning. Why aren't they affected as well?" Ron asked. He and Hermione looked at each other for a few seconds before he blurted out, "the goblets! The toast! The team drank from the goblets. Ginny was holding the last one when I came in. Do you remember?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "There were seven goblets and a jug of pumpkin juice on a tray near Angelina's plate this morning. She said she ordered it from the kitchens so the team could have a pre-game toast, instead of her and Harry having to make a speech. They were all getting impatient because you weren't there yet, so Ginny took your goblet as a joke."
"Looks like the joke was on her." He blinked a few times. It was getting harder to see. His eye was swelling. With his one good eye, he scanned the stands. He saw Malfoy and several other Slytherins smirking. "I bet Malfoy brewed the potion and slipped it into the juice. I'll break his slimy, scrawny neck if it's the last thing I do!"
"We can't prove he was involved, at least, not at the moment."
"But look at the little ferret! It's written all over his face!"
Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Calm down, Ron. We'll deal with him later. What are you going to do right now? Madam Hooch should know about this."
"Right." He waved to Madam Hooch, and she came towards them. After explaining the situation to her, the referee made her decision. "If your teammates are unfit to play, Weasley, then you'll have to forfeit the game."
"WHAT?! You mean, just hand over a victory to the Hufflepuffs without a fight? Not a chance!" he roared.
"You're going to lose anyway. Look at them! They don't even know which end of a broomstick goes in front. And you're bleeding. If that eye swells shut, you won't be able to see clearly."
"Look, Professor, give us ten minutes to turn this game around. If we can't score by then, you can declare Hufflepuff the winner. Hermione will treat my wound, and I'll be fine. Please give us a chance. It's my first game. If we're going to lose, I want to go down fighting. Please."
Madam Hooch considered him for a few moments. "All right, Weasley, ten minutes, but that's it. I'll give you two minutes before I resume the game." She walked away.
He turned to Hermione. "You'll fix me up, won't you?"
"I don't know if I can. It looks pretty bad."
"Just try, please." Hermione looked scared, but she nodded and cast a spell on his wound. He felt the throbbing pain lessen considerably, and he could see better. "Thanks. You'd better take Ginny to the hospital wing, so Madam Pomfrey can give her an antidote or something."
"There's no antidote to Bewildering Draught. It will have to wear off on its own."
"How long will that take?"
"It depends. Even if it's only a small dose, it'll take at least an hour to wear off, although it might wear off sooner if the person who took it moved around a lot."
"Bloody hell."
"Ron, are you sure about this? Even if Madam Hooch declares Hufflepuff the winner right now, they don't have any points yet. You can catch up later."
"I'm sure. Go on, now."
She reached up and touched his cheek. "Good luck, Ron." She grabbed Ginny and ran back to the stands. Ginny was still giggling as Hermione led her away.
Ron turned to his teammates, who continued to stand there stupidly, except Fred and George, who were whacking each other on the shins with their clubs. "All right! Listen to me! We have a game to play, so pay attention." He picked up the Quaffle, which was lying on the ground near his feet. "Angelina! Katie! Alicia! Look at this ball. You have to get this ball from the other team and put it through those hoops." He pointed towards the hoops Hufflepuff was guarding. "Do you understand? That's all you have to remember. Get this ball. Put it through those hoops. All right?"
"Right," the three girls chanted. "Get the hoops, put them through the ball."
"No, no, no!" He repeated the whole thing three times, and made them say it back to him. Then he took each girl by the shoulders, and gave them a vigorous shake while repeating his instructions.
Then he moved on to Harry, telling him what he needed to do, and shaking him more vigorously than he did the Chasers. "Remember, Harry, DO NOT follow Krum if you don't see him going after the Snitch. You know what the Snitch is, right? It's the little golden ball with silver wings. Don't forget that. And, listen carefully, you have to catch the Snitch before Krum does. All right?" Harry nodded, his glasses askew from Ron's shaking.
The twins were more troublesome. They kept trying to hit him on the shins as he explained what they were supposed to do. In the end, he had to slap each of them upside the head to make them settle down and listen.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle. The two teams flew back into position. Ron crossed his fingers. If his teammates didn't come through, he would just have to fight back with everything he had. Even if Hufflepuff was sure to win, he was not going to make it easy for them.
To his amazement, Angelina was able to intercept the Quaffle and was now flying frighteningly fast towards the hoops Hufflepuff was guarding. She seemed to remember something, because she suddenly tried to skid to a stop and attempted to throw the Quaffle into the hoop without going through it herself. Her move would have been similar to the Transylvanian Tackle, if it hadn't been for the fact that her entire body, not only her fist, was aimed at the Hufflepuff Keeper. Ron's opposite number had been too shocked to do anything more than stare open-mouthedly at the oncoming Angelina, when the Chaser stopped barely an inch away from the Hufflepuff's nose. Angelina pitched the Quaffle over the Keeper's head and scored. But because of her momentum, she nearly slid off her broom, and dangled on her hands until the Hufflepuff Keeper gave her a hand up again. Angelina kissed him on the cheek and giggled as she flew away.
Hufflepuff tried to score, but Ron was able to block their attempt, and at the same time, send the Quaffle Katie's way. However, when Katie got a hold of the ball, she promptly started flying towards him. He shouted himself hoarse before Katie understood and flew back to the other end of the field. Hufflepuff blocked her attempt to score, and took possession of the Quaffle.
Meanwhile, Fred and George had continued whacking each other in the shins with their clubs. But just then, Fred must have given George a particularly hard blow, because George had tried to pelt a Bludger towards his twin, but the ball glanced on his club, hitting one of the opposing Beaters squarely in the stomach instead. Fred howled with laughter and tried to concuss his twin with the other Bludger, but instead, the Bludger hit one of the Hufflepuff Chasers in the shins, making her howl in pain. Ron had an easier time blocking the Quaffle, as he had only two Chasers to contend with.
In retaliation, the Hufflepuff Beaters aimed both Bludgers at Ron, while their teammates attempted to score. One of the Bludgers hit him, but the momentum propelled him backward and to the right, just in front of the hoop, allowing him to catch the Quaffle. He threw the ball in Alicia's direction, hoping she would catch it and try to score. Just then, he saw Krum racing after the Snitch, while Harry -- Harry was directly in the Snitch's path, but wasn't paying attention at all. In fact, Harry was yawning and was beginning to stretch his arms upward.
"HARRY! THE SNITCH! CATCH THE SNITCH!" Ron forced all the air out of his lungs into that cry.
Luckily, Harry heard his cry and extended his arms just as the Snitch flew towards him. His fingers wrapped around the tiny ball. Unfortunately, Krum was unable to swerve away from Harry, and the two Seekers collided with a sickening thud. Ron flew towards them at his top speed and grabbed both of them by their robes, preventing them from falling to the ground. Madam Hooch flew towards Ron, and with her help, they landed safely. Harry's nose was bleeding heavily, but he was still holding the Snitch.
The roar of the crowd was pounding in Ron's ears. He vaguely felt something hit him as he caught Harry and Krum, and that must have been the reason why his wound reopened and started bleeding again. As they landed, his teammates seemed to be overcoming the effects of the Bewildering Draught. They were shaking their heads as if to clear the fog from their brains. But as they recovered, he started to feel faint and lightheaded.
He didn't know how it happened, but suddenly Angelina, Katie and Alicia were taking turns kissing him, and then they were hugging him so tightly he could hardly breathe. He started feeling the sore spots on his body where he had been hit by the Bludgers, and he struggled to break free of the Chasers' grip. It took Fred and George to pry the three girls off him. Harry was saying something about making him Captain, and the others were agreeing. He tried to object, but Harry glared at him until his voice trailed off. Then he saw Hermione standing beside him, looking as though someone had slapped her. He pulled her into a tight hug, but she didn't hug him back. She must have seen Angelina, Katie and Alicia... Oh, hell, no, not now...
"'Mione, I -- I didn't tell them to do that,... I didn't. Please..." His eyes were starting to go out of focus.
"Congratulations, Ron," was all she said in a choked voice before she moved away. Her sudden loss unbalanced him, and he grabbed hold of Ginny, who had stepped into his arms, and held onto her until his knees wobbled.
As he was being taken to the hospital wing, Ron realized two things: he was now the Gryffindor team Captain, and through no fault of his own, he had just broken Hermione's heart. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he passed out.