Ron slammed his fist against the splintered bathroom door, bellowing
commands of entry with every hit. Ginny had been in the bathroom for what
seemed like hours, the water running for what seemed like eternity and her
sweetly pitched voice still humming over the waterfall. He hadn't slept
all night, his body was weak and his eyelids felt heavy, and he knew that
the best way to wake himself up was with a freezing cold shower. Ginny had
beaten him to it this morning since it was Saturday and his only day off
from the office.
The door burst open and Ginny padded out, adorned in a mint green terry cloth robe that clung to her skin. Her hair was pulled back with a tiger's eye clip, and her blue eyes were brighter than usual. She gave Ron a casual smirk as she shifted past him.
"THANKS for taking up all the hot water Gin!" He shouted at her up the stairs.
"Doesn't seem to me like you needed a HOT shower at all Ronald." Her voice lingered on the stairs for just a second before the clang of her door could be heard, causing Ron to frown just slightly before slipping in to the bathroom. She really had a way at getting at his nerves. But despite that, he couldn't deny the truth. He did need a cold shower, not only for his lack of sleep but also to heal---well certain things that certainly hadn't been present when he had gone to his room last night. He thought it could have been Harry's talk from the day before at lunch, how he had accused Ron of things he couldn't even think imaginable. Or it could have been from the letter.
Ron unfolded the now crinkled letter and looked over it once again, his eyes falling on the sketchy signature of Hermione Granger, poised and perfect, at the bottom of the paper. He couldn't believe that she had sent him a letter when he first saw the name, but judging by the formality of it all she had sent them to everyone. She had wanted to have a small get together with all the Gryffindor's from their year, including Draco Malfoy, and any dates for those who would be attending. His face grew hot and his fingers grew clammy as he continued to read the letter, his brain imagining Hermione's milk white left hand scrawling this letter perfectly. Her hair flooding in front of her face as she worked hastily to get them delivered. He could feel the heat and blood rushing to his lower region and he scowled at himself for getting worked up again. It was wrong to think of someone he hadn't seen in over 5 years.
He stepped into the shower, immediate goose bumps rising on his skin as the ice water hit his back, stinging slightly as its chilling daggers sunk into him. He ran his fingers over his body lightly, attempting to hold in some of his remaining body heat. As they skimmed over his chest his heart skipped a beat, finding himself imagining that the rough calloused hands on his chest weren't his own but the perfectionist Hermione's.
The blood rushed again and he scowled again, pushing his hands up against the wall of the shower as he leaned into it. This couldn't happen anymore. The water that once felt like daggers against his skin now felt warm and comforting, springing warmth everywhere. Even a cold shower wouldn't help him now. He let his hand drift down to the only relief he knew, and he sighed deeply.
~
After some time in the shower, Ron was downstairs at the table again, surrounded by his mother, father, Ginny, George, Fred, Angelina, and their two children. The table was bustling with noise and commotion about new things at either Hogwarts or the Ministry, along with news of the kids' discovery of magic and so on. Ron chose to ignore it, and instead paid close attention to the cornflower yellow color of his scrambled eggs.
"Mum, did Ron tell you that we were invited to Hermione's for a reunion like party? It's on Monday." Ginny burst in, causing Ron's head to snap to attention.
"You were invited?" He spat.
"Yes I was invited. Even if Hermione hadn't sent me an invitation Draco would have brought me along." She smiled ruthlessly and turned her attention back to her mother, "I can go can't I Mum?"
"Ginny dear you are old enough to make your own decisions."
"She does most of the time anyway." Ron chided.
"Oh sod off you nosy git, at least I'm GOING to Hermione's party." Ginny retorted.
"You aren't going Ron?" Arthur Weasley interjected, causing the entire table to look over at him expectantly.
"I don't know yet. I might have too much work."
"Nonsense Dad he's just lying to you. Hermione got permission from the Ministry of Magic to have Harry and Ron take the day off to come. She invited Neville after all, and he had to take the day off from Minister to come in the first place." Ginny replied through a mouth of bacon. Everyone's eyes settled on Ron's again, and he blushed before looking down at his scrambled eggs again. Yes it was true, Hermione had arranged for a day off for him and Harry to go to the party.
"I just might not go okay?" He finally spoke.
"Why not dear?" Ms. Weasley questioned.
"I just---
"He just doesn't want to see Hermione again since that INCIDENT." Ginny interjected.
"Do you EVER mind your own business Gin?" Ron groaned. Fred and George had left the table, taking Sean and Morgan with them. Angelina was just beginning to stand up and move away from the table, her gaze falling on Ron and smiling softly. He smiled back a tiny bit before becoming stern again and shifting back to Ginny.
"Yes I do. But I know you better than anyone here, and I know for a fact you constantly think about her. You want to see her you just won't do it and I don't understand why. No one does not Harry, not Draco---
"YOU ASKED DRACO ABOUT ME!" Ron screamed; rage now pumping through his blood.
"Well yes I asked him. Everyone knows you love her."
"You are all bloody crazy alright? Every last one of you is bloody crazy. Don't go asking Draco Malfoy about me EVER again Gin, you get that?" He stood abruptly and moved out of the kitchen and into the shallow garden. The lengthy grass curled and nipped at his ankles, smothering his feet in their green aura. He fell back against the ground and stared into the blue cloud studded sky. His fists began to curl around the pieces of grass at his sides, smothering them within his grasp and flinging them about. He could see the makeshift Quidditch hoops high in the distance, cracked and old from weathering and repetitive use. His mind was spinning out of control. He truly didn't know why Hermione had invited him in the first place. He shouldn't go to some ruddy party when they hadn't spoken in so long.
He remembered their fight like it had been yesterday. They had been by the lake at school, he had been lying in the grass just as he was now and she had been leaning against a tree, her hair feathered out behind her and her eyes glaring over a book. He kept glancing at her unnoticed; she looked beautiful against the tree. Almost vulnerable. The dropping feeling in his stomach had unnerved him as he continued to stare at her in short glances. She had seen him once and smiled graciously, a huge white grin plastered on his face as she did so. After a few more glances she had seemed slightly annoyed.
"Stop looking at me like that Ron." She had said, obviously flustered.
"Why should I?"
"It just isn't right." She had stated as she closed her book and turned towards him. From his spot on the ground he had been able to see the slightest amount of flesh around her tummy from the hitch in her shirt, her long white legs tucked under her bum.
"Why not?"
"I'm sure Viktor wouldn't appreciate you ogling me." She had hissed lightly.
"What does VICKY have to do with anything?" He had yelled slightly loud, sitting up instantly.
"You know how he---feels---about me." He could see crimson shifting up her face as she stared off into the lake, "You are just my friend. It would seem wrong that you keep, staring at me like that." The words had struck him hard, the words 'just friends' echoing in his head repetitively.
"Yes well, he doesn't deserve you." Ron had mouthed off. She had blushed again and stood quickly.
"We aren't having this conversation." She hissed again.
"Why not?" He had spoken, standing up as well.
"Because I love Viktor and you know it."
"Do you love him or are you in love with him?" He had asked.
"Does it make a difference?"
"Much." Where his courage came from he couldn't remember, but in the next instant his lips had been on hers and his arm had been around her waist, pulling her close to him. He hadn't expected her to pull away, or to run a hand across his face in pure anger, leaving a stinging red mark. Nor had he imagined her to run away in tears.
Lying now in the gardens of the Burrow, he hadn't really done anything wrong. She hadn't spoken to him for another day and he had gone back to apologize. It had been wrong to kiss her and he wasn't even sure what had come over him. They soon were laughing and having fun again like normal, and of course came the occasional riff where they would argue for days at a time. The worst came in the middle of their 7th year, right around Easter, and he knew that it was this argument that had ruined their friendship.
She had just received news from her parents that Viktor Krum had been killed in a ruthless attack in Venice. She had wedged herself in self pity and solemnity, much to the discretion of her family and Ron. He had actually been glad for a few minutes that Vicky was gone; he had never truly liked him. One night in the common room she had erupted in a burst of tears and flung herself on Ron, crying restlessly.
"Oh RON. He's gone. Voldemort only killed him because of me---only because he liked me. It wasn't fair!" He had oddly comforted her for what seemed like hours, running his fingers through her hair and stroking her back. At one point, only seconds after the grandfather clock had finished its last chime, she had looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with sadness and anger, and something he had always dubbed from that day forward as passion. She kissed his lips strongly and pulled him down on top of her, begging him for everything he had wanted to give her at one point. He stroked her tentatively and ran his hands over her body lightly, succumbing himself to everything he had been feeling the last month or so.
He remembered waking the next morning with her in his arms, smiling peacefully as she slept. When she had woken though she had been extremely angry.
"You---you used me Ron! You knew how vulnerable I was---
"But you wanted it too Hermione. I wasn't the only one."
"I wasn't in a right state of mind!" She had screamed.
"I love you Hermione---
"Don't say that Ron." She chided, shaking her head, "Just don't say that."
"You didn't love him Hermione and you know it. You love me too."
"Just shut up and get out Ron Weasley." She had scoffed, pushing him towards the door, "I don't love you. Yesterday was a mistake" Anger filled his stomach and head as she pushed him through the door, turning on her heel quickly.
"When you get over your dead prince, give me a call Hermione." He had retorted lamely, not even sure where it had come from.
Silent tears ran over Ron's cheeks as he thought about her face every day he had seen her after then. She never spoke to him, only glumly looked at him, with chocolate eyes that drilled into his soul. He had never been able to forgive himself for that moment, not a second in his life could he forget it. He continued to cry, staring at the cloud studded sky in pure remorse.
~
After changing his clothes (which were now covered in horrible tear and grass stains) Ron headed out the front door, apparating quickly to Harry's house in Surrey. He paused as he surveyed the area, the small brown houses of all equal sizes and shapes melting into one another as he rubbed his eyes. He couldn't remember the number of Harry's house, so he took up moving up and down the small streets, looking at numbers and shaking his head at the ones he knew weren't true. Was it 317? Or 114?
He finally settled on house 545 and stepped up to the doorstep, tapping lightly on the wooden door frame. A voice echoed from inside and he stepped back as the door opened and Harry smiled coolly at his friend, ushering him inside.
"Ron you didn't say you were coming over today." Harry mused, plopping down into one of his oversized evergreen armchairs. Ron took up the one on his other side, smiling slightly.
"I needed to get out of the house. Gin is driving me off the deep end."
"Isn't that what sisters are for?" Harry laughed archly. He got up and moved towards the kitchen and grabbed them both beer bottles, tossing one to Ron who caught it with ease. He unscrewed the cap and drank hastily, the harsh liquid stinging the back of his throat as it slid down. He immediately felt warmer as it sunk into his stomach.
"I suppose so." Ron replied curtly. The doorbell sounded and his brow furrowed deep into his eyes. He looked at Harry who paled slightly, his fingers tapping on the end of the armchair. The doorbell continued to ring ominously, "Are you going to get that?"
"Probably the wrong house." Harry replied nervously. Ron stared at him for a minute before his face broke out into a slight grin. He moved for the door and beat Harry to it, wrenching it open as quickly as he could.
On the steps stood a shorter woman, maybe only 5'4, with long blonde hair that hung loosely down her back. She had large crystalline blue eyes and wire rimmed glasses. Her nose was small and led to thick pink tinted lips. Her skin was tan colored from obvious sun exposure, and she was dressed simply in a sunny yellow blouse and a jean skirt. She smiled at Harry, who stood behind Ron, and then at Ron.
"Hullo Ronald." She drawled as she stepped inside, batting her eyelashes at him. He gasped as she turned to Harry and pulled him into a deep throated kiss, hugging him lavishly. Harry was smiling broadly and whispered a light 'I love you' to her as she walked further into his house. She moved into the kitchen and began to tinker with things in the sink.
"Harry." Ron started, still standing in the pathway of the front door, his jaw almost to the floor, "Who the bloody hell is that?"
"Don't you remember me Ronald?" She giggled from the kitchen, "My father has covered a couple Quidditch matches in his magazine, I would have thought you'd have them posted in your bedroom." Ron's jaw floated lower, he was completely flummoxed as he turned again to Harry, who was grinning in pride.
"You---and---Luna Lovegood?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ AN: This chapter has a few changes from the original For one, Ron doesn't know that Harry is with Luna. In fact, no one does, it is supposed to be a slight surprise Two, you see the different personality of Ginny. I didn't really like her being a scared little girl all the time when she was little. I thought she would always grow up to be quite a fiery girl. Three, you will notice that Neville doesn't play a part at all. Yes I know; it was cute that Hermione was with him in the first make of this story. But I thought it just wasn't a Hermione type of thing to go out with a guy just for pity or something. Wasn't her characteristic. I like this better, where she is fighting her feelings for Ron by using Viktor.
Yes this WILL be an R/H fiction, but I like including the sub romances of Ginny/Draco and Luna/Harry along the way. Sorry if that upsets any one, but I thought it was a nice touch.
The door burst open and Ginny padded out, adorned in a mint green terry cloth robe that clung to her skin. Her hair was pulled back with a tiger's eye clip, and her blue eyes were brighter than usual. She gave Ron a casual smirk as she shifted past him.
"THANKS for taking up all the hot water Gin!" He shouted at her up the stairs.
"Doesn't seem to me like you needed a HOT shower at all Ronald." Her voice lingered on the stairs for just a second before the clang of her door could be heard, causing Ron to frown just slightly before slipping in to the bathroom. She really had a way at getting at his nerves. But despite that, he couldn't deny the truth. He did need a cold shower, not only for his lack of sleep but also to heal---well certain things that certainly hadn't been present when he had gone to his room last night. He thought it could have been Harry's talk from the day before at lunch, how he had accused Ron of things he couldn't even think imaginable. Or it could have been from the letter.
Ron unfolded the now crinkled letter and looked over it once again, his eyes falling on the sketchy signature of Hermione Granger, poised and perfect, at the bottom of the paper. He couldn't believe that she had sent him a letter when he first saw the name, but judging by the formality of it all she had sent them to everyone. She had wanted to have a small get together with all the Gryffindor's from their year, including Draco Malfoy, and any dates for those who would be attending. His face grew hot and his fingers grew clammy as he continued to read the letter, his brain imagining Hermione's milk white left hand scrawling this letter perfectly. Her hair flooding in front of her face as she worked hastily to get them delivered. He could feel the heat and blood rushing to his lower region and he scowled at himself for getting worked up again. It was wrong to think of someone he hadn't seen in over 5 years.
He stepped into the shower, immediate goose bumps rising on his skin as the ice water hit his back, stinging slightly as its chilling daggers sunk into him. He ran his fingers over his body lightly, attempting to hold in some of his remaining body heat. As they skimmed over his chest his heart skipped a beat, finding himself imagining that the rough calloused hands on his chest weren't his own but the perfectionist Hermione's.
The blood rushed again and he scowled again, pushing his hands up against the wall of the shower as he leaned into it. This couldn't happen anymore. The water that once felt like daggers against his skin now felt warm and comforting, springing warmth everywhere. Even a cold shower wouldn't help him now. He let his hand drift down to the only relief he knew, and he sighed deeply.
~
After some time in the shower, Ron was downstairs at the table again, surrounded by his mother, father, Ginny, George, Fred, Angelina, and their two children. The table was bustling with noise and commotion about new things at either Hogwarts or the Ministry, along with news of the kids' discovery of magic and so on. Ron chose to ignore it, and instead paid close attention to the cornflower yellow color of his scrambled eggs.
"Mum, did Ron tell you that we were invited to Hermione's for a reunion like party? It's on Monday." Ginny burst in, causing Ron's head to snap to attention.
"You were invited?" He spat.
"Yes I was invited. Even if Hermione hadn't sent me an invitation Draco would have brought me along." She smiled ruthlessly and turned her attention back to her mother, "I can go can't I Mum?"
"Ginny dear you are old enough to make your own decisions."
"She does most of the time anyway." Ron chided.
"Oh sod off you nosy git, at least I'm GOING to Hermione's party." Ginny retorted.
"You aren't going Ron?" Arthur Weasley interjected, causing the entire table to look over at him expectantly.
"I don't know yet. I might have too much work."
"Nonsense Dad he's just lying to you. Hermione got permission from the Ministry of Magic to have Harry and Ron take the day off to come. She invited Neville after all, and he had to take the day off from Minister to come in the first place." Ginny replied through a mouth of bacon. Everyone's eyes settled on Ron's again, and he blushed before looking down at his scrambled eggs again. Yes it was true, Hermione had arranged for a day off for him and Harry to go to the party.
"I just might not go okay?" He finally spoke.
"Why not dear?" Ms. Weasley questioned.
"I just---
"He just doesn't want to see Hermione again since that INCIDENT." Ginny interjected.
"Do you EVER mind your own business Gin?" Ron groaned. Fred and George had left the table, taking Sean and Morgan with them. Angelina was just beginning to stand up and move away from the table, her gaze falling on Ron and smiling softly. He smiled back a tiny bit before becoming stern again and shifting back to Ginny.
"Yes I do. But I know you better than anyone here, and I know for a fact you constantly think about her. You want to see her you just won't do it and I don't understand why. No one does not Harry, not Draco---
"YOU ASKED DRACO ABOUT ME!" Ron screamed; rage now pumping through his blood.
"Well yes I asked him. Everyone knows you love her."
"You are all bloody crazy alright? Every last one of you is bloody crazy. Don't go asking Draco Malfoy about me EVER again Gin, you get that?" He stood abruptly and moved out of the kitchen and into the shallow garden. The lengthy grass curled and nipped at his ankles, smothering his feet in their green aura. He fell back against the ground and stared into the blue cloud studded sky. His fists began to curl around the pieces of grass at his sides, smothering them within his grasp and flinging them about. He could see the makeshift Quidditch hoops high in the distance, cracked and old from weathering and repetitive use. His mind was spinning out of control. He truly didn't know why Hermione had invited him in the first place. He shouldn't go to some ruddy party when they hadn't spoken in so long.
He remembered their fight like it had been yesterday. They had been by the lake at school, he had been lying in the grass just as he was now and she had been leaning against a tree, her hair feathered out behind her and her eyes glaring over a book. He kept glancing at her unnoticed; she looked beautiful against the tree. Almost vulnerable. The dropping feeling in his stomach had unnerved him as he continued to stare at her in short glances. She had seen him once and smiled graciously, a huge white grin plastered on his face as she did so. After a few more glances she had seemed slightly annoyed.
"Stop looking at me like that Ron." She had said, obviously flustered.
"Why should I?"
"It just isn't right." She had stated as she closed her book and turned towards him. From his spot on the ground he had been able to see the slightest amount of flesh around her tummy from the hitch in her shirt, her long white legs tucked under her bum.
"Why not?"
"I'm sure Viktor wouldn't appreciate you ogling me." She had hissed lightly.
"What does VICKY have to do with anything?" He had yelled slightly loud, sitting up instantly.
"You know how he---feels---about me." He could see crimson shifting up her face as she stared off into the lake, "You are just my friend. It would seem wrong that you keep, staring at me like that." The words had struck him hard, the words 'just friends' echoing in his head repetitively.
"Yes well, he doesn't deserve you." Ron had mouthed off. She had blushed again and stood quickly.
"We aren't having this conversation." She hissed again.
"Why not?" He had spoken, standing up as well.
"Because I love Viktor and you know it."
"Do you love him or are you in love with him?" He had asked.
"Does it make a difference?"
"Much." Where his courage came from he couldn't remember, but in the next instant his lips had been on hers and his arm had been around her waist, pulling her close to him. He hadn't expected her to pull away, or to run a hand across his face in pure anger, leaving a stinging red mark. Nor had he imagined her to run away in tears.
Lying now in the gardens of the Burrow, he hadn't really done anything wrong. She hadn't spoken to him for another day and he had gone back to apologize. It had been wrong to kiss her and he wasn't even sure what had come over him. They soon were laughing and having fun again like normal, and of course came the occasional riff where they would argue for days at a time. The worst came in the middle of their 7th year, right around Easter, and he knew that it was this argument that had ruined their friendship.
She had just received news from her parents that Viktor Krum had been killed in a ruthless attack in Venice. She had wedged herself in self pity and solemnity, much to the discretion of her family and Ron. He had actually been glad for a few minutes that Vicky was gone; he had never truly liked him. One night in the common room she had erupted in a burst of tears and flung herself on Ron, crying restlessly.
"Oh RON. He's gone. Voldemort only killed him because of me---only because he liked me. It wasn't fair!" He had oddly comforted her for what seemed like hours, running his fingers through her hair and stroking her back. At one point, only seconds after the grandfather clock had finished its last chime, she had looked up at him. Her eyes were filled with sadness and anger, and something he had always dubbed from that day forward as passion. She kissed his lips strongly and pulled him down on top of her, begging him for everything he had wanted to give her at one point. He stroked her tentatively and ran his hands over her body lightly, succumbing himself to everything he had been feeling the last month or so.
He remembered waking the next morning with her in his arms, smiling peacefully as she slept. When she had woken though she had been extremely angry.
"You---you used me Ron! You knew how vulnerable I was---
"But you wanted it too Hermione. I wasn't the only one."
"I wasn't in a right state of mind!" She had screamed.
"I love you Hermione---
"Don't say that Ron." She chided, shaking her head, "Just don't say that."
"You didn't love him Hermione and you know it. You love me too."
"Just shut up and get out Ron Weasley." She had scoffed, pushing him towards the door, "I don't love you. Yesterday was a mistake" Anger filled his stomach and head as she pushed him through the door, turning on her heel quickly.
"When you get over your dead prince, give me a call Hermione." He had retorted lamely, not even sure where it had come from.
Silent tears ran over Ron's cheeks as he thought about her face every day he had seen her after then. She never spoke to him, only glumly looked at him, with chocolate eyes that drilled into his soul. He had never been able to forgive himself for that moment, not a second in his life could he forget it. He continued to cry, staring at the cloud studded sky in pure remorse.
~
After changing his clothes (which were now covered in horrible tear and grass stains) Ron headed out the front door, apparating quickly to Harry's house in Surrey. He paused as he surveyed the area, the small brown houses of all equal sizes and shapes melting into one another as he rubbed his eyes. He couldn't remember the number of Harry's house, so he took up moving up and down the small streets, looking at numbers and shaking his head at the ones he knew weren't true. Was it 317? Or 114?
He finally settled on house 545 and stepped up to the doorstep, tapping lightly on the wooden door frame. A voice echoed from inside and he stepped back as the door opened and Harry smiled coolly at his friend, ushering him inside.
"Ron you didn't say you were coming over today." Harry mused, plopping down into one of his oversized evergreen armchairs. Ron took up the one on his other side, smiling slightly.
"I needed to get out of the house. Gin is driving me off the deep end."
"Isn't that what sisters are for?" Harry laughed archly. He got up and moved towards the kitchen and grabbed them both beer bottles, tossing one to Ron who caught it with ease. He unscrewed the cap and drank hastily, the harsh liquid stinging the back of his throat as it slid down. He immediately felt warmer as it sunk into his stomach.
"I suppose so." Ron replied curtly. The doorbell sounded and his brow furrowed deep into his eyes. He looked at Harry who paled slightly, his fingers tapping on the end of the armchair. The doorbell continued to ring ominously, "Are you going to get that?"
"Probably the wrong house." Harry replied nervously. Ron stared at him for a minute before his face broke out into a slight grin. He moved for the door and beat Harry to it, wrenching it open as quickly as he could.
On the steps stood a shorter woman, maybe only 5'4, with long blonde hair that hung loosely down her back. She had large crystalline blue eyes and wire rimmed glasses. Her nose was small and led to thick pink tinted lips. Her skin was tan colored from obvious sun exposure, and she was dressed simply in a sunny yellow blouse and a jean skirt. She smiled at Harry, who stood behind Ron, and then at Ron.
"Hullo Ronald." She drawled as she stepped inside, batting her eyelashes at him. He gasped as she turned to Harry and pulled him into a deep throated kiss, hugging him lavishly. Harry was smiling broadly and whispered a light 'I love you' to her as she walked further into his house. She moved into the kitchen and began to tinker with things in the sink.
"Harry." Ron started, still standing in the pathway of the front door, his jaw almost to the floor, "Who the bloody hell is that?"
"Don't you remember me Ronald?" She giggled from the kitchen, "My father has covered a couple Quidditch matches in his magazine, I would have thought you'd have them posted in your bedroom." Ron's jaw floated lower, he was completely flummoxed as he turned again to Harry, who was grinning in pride.
"You---and---Luna Lovegood?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------ AN: This chapter has a few changes from the original For one, Ron doesn't know that Harry is with Luna. In fact, no one does, it is supposed to be a slight surprise Two, you see the different personality of Ginny. I didn't really like her being a scared little girl all the time when she was little. I thought she would always grow up to be quite a fiery girl. Three, you will notice that Neville doesn't play a part at all. Yes I know; it was cute that Hermione was with him in the first make of this story. But I thought it just wasn't a Hermione type of thing to go out with a guy just for pity or something. Wasn't her characteristic. I like this better, where she is fighting her feelings for Ron by using Viktor.
Yes this WILL be an R/H fiction, but I like including the sub romances of Ginny/Draco and Luna/Harry along the way. Sorry if that upsets any one, but I thought it was a nice touch.