Ron sat quietly in the forest green armchair for some time, lightly
conversing every 20 minutes or so when Harry would ask him some sort of
question that needed a response. His eyes were stuck on Luna Lovegood, who
was busily making dinner in the kitchen and talking to Harry with sweet
words. Her blonde hair had now fallen into her face as she worked, and he
could see those small beads of perspiration on her neck that he used to
remember from the Department of Mysteries. She looked up at him and smiled
broadly and winked at him before turning away.
"She's great isn't she?" Harry mused quietly.
"When the bloody hell did you two start dating?"
"About two years ago. Her father wanted to interview me."
"Why?" Ron asked curiously. The Quibbler was known for its pointless articles, and Aurors were very rarely seen on the table of contents.
"He wanted to get my perspective about Quidditch. You know, since I stopped playing. But yeah---she was there and asked me out to lunch to catch up, and we just started talking. We went out to dinner that night and well---
"It was history?" Harry laughed as Ron spoke, shifting his shoulders and shrugging slightly.
"Guess you could say that." He laughed again and Ron took a gigantic swig of his beer, what little was remaining, and winced as it slid down the back of his throat. He wouldn't admit to anyone, but he really wasn't as big of a drinker as he talked himself up to be, and he knew if he continued he would be in a right spot in the morning.
"Ronald, are you going to Hermione's gathering?" Luna asked from the kitchen. She had waved the boys in and they were greeted immediately with the flavorful scent of Beef Stew. Ron sniffed heartily and smiled, almost completely forgetting Luna's question, "Ronald?"
"Don't bother him Luna, he's dying with the thought of eating all your food---single handedly." Harry punched his arm lightly.
"Not true. It isn't my fault if my stomach won't stop growling." He spat, sitting in the closest chair to him and falling against the back wall. Luna and Harry were both shooting him murderous glances as he summoned himself a glass from the cupboard and allowed it to fill itself to the brim with water, "What?"
"Answer the question." Luna hissed.
"Fine, if you must know, I'm not going." He stated matter-of-factly, pushing his now empty glass away.
"But you have to Ronald!" She pleaded, "It just wouldn't be the same without you."
"She's got a good point mate."
"Yeah well, it isn't like Hermione wants me there. I shouldn't be somewhere I'm not welcome." He retorted.
"Why won't you two just make up already?" Luna asked taking a seat at the table as well.
"Now Luna, the two most stubborn people in Hogwarts, maybe in all of London, do you really think it would be possible for either of them to admit they were wrong?" Harry interjected. Ron's ears were turning a crimson color as Harry stared at him haughtily and Luna peered at him over the top of her glasses. She smirked at him, her lips curling into a tight grin.
"Ronald, I think you aren't that hungry---
"Yes I am!" Ron interjected.
"No you aren't. Harry and I can eat this entire delicious stew on our own." She smirked again and moved towards the stove, her jean skirt swishing behind her. Ron stared at her with dagger-like eyes.
"You are---you are---a scarlet woman!" He hissed.
"Now Ron only I can call her that." Harry laughed.
"She won't let me eat."
"I will on one condition---
"What the bloody hell is this!" Ron yelped angrily.
"I will if you promise to go to Hermione's party. You don't even have to talk to her, you just have to go." She stated simply, pulling a large cast iron pot out of the oven, its contents boiling rapidly and sending more of its wonderful fragrance towards Ron.
"Fine I'll do it." He muttered as his stomach rumbled again, causing the entire kitchen to erupt in laughter.
~
Monday's sun poked into Ron's room early, pressing against his eyes and willing him to wake. He squirmed in bed and tried to shut it out, tried to stop the day from coming, but it was useless.
"When I get my own flat, my room is not facing east." He muttered to himself. Pulling himself out of bed he ran a hand through his hair and another down his back. No, he wasn't sweaty since he hadn't worked all weekend. He bent his face near his armpit and sniffed lightly. Nothing a good deodorant wouldn't cover thankfully, he thought to himself. Ginny had been nice enough to do his laundry the morning before (after a careful bribe that he had put in place, giving her the house alone with Draco two nights in the following week) and he was able to put on a brand new Navy Blue jumper and his best pair of jeans. He walked down the steps carefully, placing each toe in line as to avoid the squeaky spot in front of his mother's room and at the base of the stairs. He reached the door and pulled it open, turned out, and closed it soundlessly behind him.
The air was crisp against his freckle smattered face as he moved across the brightly green grass, his strides long and smooth. He could see the weathered mailbox that stood (well you couldn't quite consider it standing, it was really leaning lopsidedly on a larger rock) at the farthest edge of his property. When his father had placed all the necessary wards around the Burrow he had used his favorite Muggle accessory as a target spot. Ron had always seen it as pointless, since the London Mail Company arrived at the spot every morning, checking the peculiar box for something, and then striding off in an awful huff. One time Fred and George had left a few "gifts" for the annoyed man and since then they hadn't come back, instead the mailbox remained unused. Ron reached its rusty side within moments and smiled up at the bright blue sky. It was a nice day for Apparation.
It was then that his brow furrowed deep into the ridge of his eyes. Where exactly could he apparate too? He was unsure as to where Hermione lived, let alone what to think about to get him there. His mind boggled over the thought before he settled on simply asking Harry. Reaching in the mailbox, he muttered a spell under his breath and felt the box sag under new weight as an object appeared in his grasp. His fingers curled around the silver brushed handle as he stared back at his stony reflection.
Harry had given him the mirror early in their 7th year, before what appeared to be a pointless battle against the Dark Lord. He had made Ron promise to always have it with him in case of emergencies. His refusal to lose another person he treasured so deeply made Ron keep the possession close to him at all times.
"Harry." He spoke loudly into the mirror, whose now fogged glass was starting to swirl colors of brilliant ceruleans and yellows. The mirror shook violently in his hand as if it had a mind of its own, bucking against his whitening knuckles. He continued to shout Harry's name until the bucking began to slow and the colors began to clear. A man's face appeared in the mirror, his brow furrowed and his eyes haunting. He didn't seem too pleased.
"What do you want Ron." Harry groaned.
"How the bloody hell do I get to Hermione's if I don't know where it is?" He asked.
"You didn't read all of her invitation?"
"No." Ron added furiously.
"Look Ron, you can't just apparate into Hermione's part of town. She lives in a---how do you say---muggle neighborhood."
"I've apparated into muggle neighborhoods before."
"Well this one is blocked off." Harry smirked, "If you want to you can drive with Luna and I, or you could simply apparate to an area near her home, and walk."
"Drive? Like in a---
"No Ron." Harry interrupted, "Not in a flying car. We are going in a regular car."
"Well then---tell me how to get there on foot."
~
Ron looked up and down the deserted street, visible only from the small lights adorning the corner lamps. He spotted the nearest street sign, Warbling Way, and turned onto it quickly. Harry had said the house was number 14, which meant he would have to walk at least a few more feet. He sighed as he continued to shuffle down the deserted sidewalk, not a single curtain pulling back from the quiet houses. The sun had barely disappeared behind the trees, and yet the town stood silently still. He couldn't believe he was late as it was, he had set out quite early, the few wrong turns he had taken must have used up more time then he realized.
As he passed house number 12 Ron's forehead began to feel unbearably hot and his hands began to get clammy and sticky. The house stood behind a thick bed of begonias, up a curving stone walkway, and past a small willow tree (Ron prayed that it was nothing like the Willow at Hogwarts). He stumbled up the walkway and stared up at the humble sized red brick house. Ivy was growing in large strands over one window, while the other stood solemnly. The curtains were drawn tight and the door was closed. He approached cautiously, stumbling just slightly on the old fashioned steps. There was a small box on the side of the door, painted vibrantly black and adorned with gold lettering that read MAIL. Strange, he thought, that a witch would have regular mail delivered.
He opened the rickety screen door and moved his hand toward the doorknob of the large wooden door. The knob didn't turn, which he found unusual, the Burrow normally sat wide open for visitors. His eyes rested on a round glowing button by the doorknob, and his finger ventured to press it. When it was fully compressed and nothing happened, he sighed fully and turned his attention back to the door. No sooner had he turned, the doorknob began to shake and to door was being opened.
A tall man with slicked back white blonde hair that fell in his eyes answered the door. He had gray blue eyes and a small nose and mouth, leading to a long neck and a stocky body. He was dressed simply, a pair of robes the color of emeralds resting over his shoulder. He smirked and allowed Ron to enter, shutting the door softly behind him.
"It took you long enough Ron. Ginny was starting to fret about you." Draco laughed heartily.
"What part of that doesn't surprise me, the part about Ron being late or the part about Ginny fretting?" A deep voice boomed from what appeared to be the dining room. A burly man sat at the table amongst a few others Ron didn't know, but the man who had spoken to him smiled a slightly dorky smile and ran a hand through his dark brown hair.
"Good to see you Minister." Ron stepped towards him and stuck out his hand, which Neville took in a large and powerful shake.
"There are no titles here Ron---I'm still just Neville." He smiled graciously, "The rest of the party is in the living room, want to follow me?" He stepped away from the table and moved towards a dark entrance way, beckoning for Ron to follow. Draco followed as well, staying a few steps behind Ron in the small area. They were led down a few more halls before coming to a spacious sitting room. Music was playing softly over a nearby radio and a few tables were pushed back against a wall. Two oversized cream couches filled a small area where Ron could see Ginny and Luna sitting, talking and laughing with each other. Harry was in one corner with Dean, seemingly discussing Quidditch over bottles of butterbeer. Neville had moved away from him and was now sitting himself next to Lavender Brown, a very pretty woman with ear length curly hair. Draco also stepped away from Ron's side and went over to hug his girlfriend, who kissed him lightly on the lips before returning to her conversation with Luna.
Ron took a single step forward into the bustling room towards his friends but was stopped by the arrival of someone from a hallway he hadn't seen. The girl was shorter than he was, but not too short. Her hair, which was pulled back from her face, was a light auburn color, small curls of it dangling in front of her chocolate eyes. She had a slightly pinched nose and a full mouth that was now tightly clamped tight. His eyes drifted quickly across her body, which was simply adorned in a red blouse and a pair of black dress pants. She had curves, he could tell, but at the moment they really weren't visible. The music had stopped but he hadn't noticed, and the members of the party were now staring at him and the girl, most bearing looks of concern.
"Welcome Ron." She stated, her voice shaking just slightly. He knew that voice. His mind was racing as she took a step towards him, closing the distance that had been set when he first saw her. Her arms awkwardly circled his waist in a mock hug, as she breathed, "It's good to see you."
He willed himself to speak. Saying anything would be better than just staring. Everyone in the room had started to talk again but were still looking apprehensively towards them, as if they were some sort of show.
"Are you going to say anything Ron?" She asked quietly, looking up at him with tentative chocolate eyes.
"Um----
"Yes?"
"Is that really you Hermione?" He asked dumbly, mentally smacking himself the moment the phrase escaped his lips. Nice one, he scorned himself.
"Yes, yes it is me silly." She giggled slightly.
"You look---good." He croaked, attempting to sound as calm as possible. Another low giggle from Hermione only caused him to feel more uncomfortable as he squirmed out of her arms, pressing his back against the wall behind him.
"Why don't we join the party Ron? We can catch up some other time." She stated bluntly, her voice had dropped a few inches in what he presumed had been excitement. He moved into the room and towards Harry, who was still in a conversation in the corner with Dean. Ron reached his side and was handed a butterbeer. He exhaled deeply, a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, and smiled graciously at Harry. Hermione had moved to sit with Ginny and Luna, talking animatedly with them and sipping lightly on what appeared to be champagne.
"That wasn't the reception I imagined." Harry whispered.
"No kidding, I thought she would have screamed at you." Dean interjected, "What happened to her 'I'm never speaking to you again' thing Ron?"
"How would I know?" He retorted slightly loud.
"Keep your voice down Ron, she might here you." Draco whispered as he stepped to join the men, his face peaked in its usual smirk.
"What's it to you Draco?" Ron hissed.
"Nothing just stating the obvious." He whispered back, brushing Ron's comment off.
"Well don't state anything at all." He hissed again.
"Calm down Ron." Harry interjected. Ron could feel the color creeping up into his neck as Draco smirked at him again, his blonde hair falling in front of his eyes.
"Oh don't stop him Harry I want to see what he has to say." Draco coaxed a glint of evil sparkling in his gray blues.
"Why do you give at all what I say about Hermione?" Ron hissed, slightly louder.
"I really don't care mind you. I really don't care at all. But it is obvious isn't it---your desire for her?" He accented the word desire, making Ron's fists clench and his teeth grind together.
"I don't desire anything from her you---
"I've seen that look before---
"Well you must be seeing things!" Ron shouted, immediately lowering his voice as a few heads turned to look at him, including Hermione's. His eyes caught hers for just a brief second, and his belly began to warm and tingle in ways he hadn't experienced since Hogwarts. He could hear Draco mumble something causing Harry and Dean to laugh as he pointed, but it sounded distant.
"Honestly Ron, why deny it when you know it's true?" Draco whispered.
"Because anything you say makes as much sense as Snape himself." Ron spat. Dean whistled lowly and then laughed again, small spits of butterbeer escaping his mouth.
"That was slightly---hurtful---Ron considering I am the new Potions master, and yet---no I don't feel the least bit offended." Draco shrugged.
"Just shut it." Ron hissed again.
"Ron that is no way to treat your future brother-in-law you know." Dean muttered, almost immediately clasping a hand over his mouth. He exchanged a worried glance between Harry and Draco before turning and quickly walking away. Ron however, was staring in the direction of Ginny, whose left hand was holding a champagne glass. He could see, slightly shining, a small diamond strung around her third finger. He let out a low groan before stomping out of the room and down the hall.
"She's great isn't she?" Harry mused quietly.
"When the bloody hell did you two start dating?"
"About two years ago. Her father wanted to interview me."
"Why?" Ron asked curiously. The Quibbler was known for its pointless articles, and Aurors were very rarely seen on the table of contents.
"He wanted to get my perspective about Quidditch. You know, since I stopped playing. But yeah---she was there and asked me out to lunch to catch up, and we just started talking. We went out to dinner that night and well---
"It was history?" Harry laughed as Ron spoke, shifting his shoulders and shrugging slightly.
"Guess you could say that." He laughed again and Ron took a gigantic swig of his beer, what little was remaining, and winced as it slid down the back of his throat. He wouldn't admit to anyone, but he really wasn't as big of a drinker as he talked himself up to be, and he knew if he continued he would be in a right spot in the morning.
"Ronald, are you going to Hermione's gathering?" Luna asked from the kitchen. She had waved the boys in and they were greeted immediately with the flavorful scent of Beef Stew. Ron sniffed heartily and smiled, almost completely forgetting Luna's question, "Ronald?"
"Don't bother him Luna, he's dying with the thought of eating all your food---single handedly." Harry punched his arm lightly.
"Not true. It isn't my fault if my stomach won't stop growling." He spat, sitting in the closest chair to him and falling against the back wall. Luna and Harry were both shooting him murderous glances as he summoned himself a glass from the cupboard and allowed it to fill itself to the brim with water, "What?"
"Answer the question." Luna hissed.
"Fine, if you must know, I'm not going." He stated matter-of-factly, pushing his now empty glass away.
"But you have to Ronald!" She pleaded, "It just wouldn't be the same without you."
"She's got a good point mate."
"Yeah well, it isn't like Hermione wants me there. I shouldn't be somewhere I'm not welcome." He retorted.
"Why won't you two just make up already?" Luna asked taking a seat at the table as well.
"Now Luna, the two most stubborn people in Hogwarts, maybe in all of London, do you really think it would be possible for either of them to admit they were wrong?" Harry interjected. Ron's ears were turning a crimson color as Harry stared at him haughtily and Luna peered at him over the top of her glasses. She smirked at him, her lips curling into a tight grin.
"Ronald, I think you aren't that hungry---
"Yes I am!" Ron interjected.
"No you aren't. Harry and I can eat this entire delicious stew on our own." She smirked again and moved towards the stove, her jean skirt swishing behind her. Ron stared at her with dagger-like eyes.
"You are---you are---a scarlet woman!" He hissed.
"Now Ron only I can call her that." Harry laughed.
"She won't let me eat."
"I will on one condition---
"What the bloody hell is this!" Ron yelped angrily.
"I will if you promise to go to Hermione's party. You don't even have to talk to her, you just have to go." She stated simply, pulling a large cast iron pot out of the oven, its contents boiling rapidly and sending more of its wonderful fragrance towards Ron.
"Fine I'll do it." He muttered as his stomach rumbled again, causing the entire kitchen to erupt in laughter.
~
Monday's sun poked into Ron's room early, pressing against his eyes and willing him to wake. He squirmed in bed and tried to shut it out, tried to stop the day from coming, but it was useless.
"When I get my own flat, my room is not facing east." He muttered to himself. Pulling himself out of bed he ran a hand through his hair and another down his back. No, he wasn't sweaty since he hadn't worked all weekend. He bent his face near his armpit and sniffed lightly. Nothing a good deodorant wouldn't cover thankfully, he thought to himself. Ginny had been nice enough to do his laundry the morning before (after a careful bribe that he had put in place, giving her the house alone with Draco two nights in the following week) and he was able to put on a brand new Navy Blue jumper and his best pair of jeans. He walked down the steps carefully, placing each toe in line as to avoid the squeaky spot in front of his mother's room and at the base of the stairs. He reached the door and pulled it open, turned out, and closed it soundlessly behind him.
The air was crisp against his freckle smattered face as he moved across the brightly green grass, his strides long and smooth. He could see the weathered mailbox that stood (well you couldn't quite consider it standing, it was really leaning lopsidedly on a larger rock) at the farthest edge of his property. When his father had placed all the necessary wards around the Burrow he had used his favorite Muggle accessory as a target spot. Ron had always seen it as pointless, since the London Mail Company arrived at the spot every morning, checking the peculiar box for something, and then striding off in an awful huff. One time Fred and George had left a few "gifts" for the annoyed man and since then they hadn't come back, instead the mailbox remained unused. Ron reached its rusty side within moments and smiled up at the bright blue sky. It was a nice day for Apparation.
It was then that his brow furrowed deep into the ridge of his eyes. Where exactly could he apparate too? He was unsure as to where Hermione lived, let alone what to think about to get him there. His mind boggled over the thought before he settled on simply asking Harry. Reaching in the mailbox, he muttered a spell under his breath and felt the box sag under new weight as an object appeared in his grasp. His fingers curled around the silver brushed handle as he stared back at his stony reflection.
Harry had given him the mirror early in their 7th year, before what appeared to be a pointless battle against the Dark Lord. He had made Ron promise to always have it with him in case of emergencies. His refusal to lose another person he treasured so deeply made Ron keep the possession close to him at all times.
"Harry." He spoke loudly into the mirror, whose now fogged glass was starting to swirl colors of brilliant ceruleans and yellows. The mirror shook violently in his hand as if it had a mind of its own, bucking against his whitening knuckles. He continued to shout Harry's name until the bucking began to slow and the colors began to clear. A man's face appeared in the mirror, his brow furrowed and his eyes haunting. He didn't seem too pleased.
"What do you want Ron." Harry groaned.
"How the bloody hell do I get to Hermione's if I don't know where it is?" He asked.
"You didn't read all of her invitation?"
"No." Ron added furiously.
"Look Ron, you can't just apparate into Hermione's part of town. She lives in a---how do you say---muggle neighborhood."
"I've apparated into muggle neighborhoods before."
"Well this one is blocked off." Harry smirked, "If you want to you can drive with Luna and I, or you could simply apparate to an area near her home, and walk."
"Drive? Like in a---
"No Ron." Harry interrupted, "Not in a flying car. We are going in a regular car."
"Well then---tell me how to get there on foot."
~
Ron looked up and down the deserted street, visible only from the small lights adorning the corner lamps. He spotted the nearest street sign, Warbling Way, and turned onto it quickly. Harry had said the house was number 14, which meant he would have to walk at least a few more feet. He sighed as he continued to shuffle down the deserted sidewalk, not a single curtain pulling back from the quiet houses. The sun had barely disappeared behind the trees, and yet the town stood silently still. He couldn't believe he was late as it was, he had set out quite early, the few wrong turns he had taken must have used up more time then he realized.
As he passed house number 12 Ron's forehead began to feel unbearably hot and his hands began to get clammy and sticky. The house stood behind a thick bed of begonias, up a curving stone walkway, and past a small willow tree (Ron prayed that it was nothing like the Willow at Hogwarts). He stumbled up the walkway and stared up at the humble sized red brick house. Ivy was growing in large strands over one window, while the other stood solemnly. The curtains were drawn tight and the door was closed. He approached cautiously, stumbling just slightly on the old fashioned steps. There was a small box on the side of the door, painted vibrantly black and adorned with gold lettering that read MAIL. Strange, he thought, that a witch would have regular mail delivered.
He opened the rickety screen door and moved his hand toward the doorknob of the large wooden door. The knob didn't turn, which he found unusual, the Burrow normally sat wide open for visitors. His eyes rested on a round glowing button by the doorknob, and his finger ventured to press it. When it was fully compressed and nothing happened, he sighed fully and turned his attention back to the door. No sooner had he turned, the doorknob began to shake and to door was being opened.
A tall man with slicked back white blonde hair that fell in his eyes answered the door. He had gray blue eyes and a small nose and mouth, leading to a long neck and a stocky body. He was dressed simply, a pair of robes the color of emeralds resting over his shoulder. He smirked and allowed Ron to enter, shutting the door softly behind him.
"It took you long enough Ron. Ginny was starting to fret about you." Draco laughed heartily.
"What part of that doesn't surprise me, the part about Ron being late or the part about Ginny fretting?" A deep voice boomed from what appeared to be the dining room. A burly man sat at the table amongst a few others Ron didn't know, but the man who had spoken to him smiled a slightly dorky smile and ran a hand through his dark brown hair.
"Good to see you Minister." Ron stepped towards him and stuck out his hand, which Neville took in a large and powerful shake.
"There are no titles here Ron---I'm still just Neville." He smiled graciously, "The rest of the party is in the living room, want to follow me?" He stepped away from the table and moved towards a dark entrance way, beckoning for Ron to follow. Draco followed as well, staying a few steps behind Ron in the small area. They were led down a few more halls before coming to a spacious sitting room. Music was playing softly over a nearby radio and a few tables were pushed back against a wall. Two oversized cream couches filled a small area where Ron could see Ginny and Luna sitting, talking and laughing with each other. Harry was in one corner with Dean, seemingly discussing Quidditch over bottles of butterbeer. Neville had moved away from him and was now sitting himself next to Lavender Brown, a very pretty woman with ear length curly hair. Draco also stepped away from Ron's side and went over to hug his girlfriend, who kissed him lightly on the lips before returning to her conversation with Luna.
Ron took a single step forward into the bustling room towards his friends but was stopped by the arrival of someone from a hallway he hadn't seen. The girl was shorter than he was, but not too short. Her hair, which was pulled back from her face, was a light auburn color, small curls of it dangling in front of her chocolate eyes. She had a slightly pinched nose and a full mouth that was now tightly clamped tight. His eyes drifted quickly across her body, which was simply adorned in a red blouse and a pair of black dress pants. She had curves, he could tell, but at the moment they really weren't visible. The music had stopped but he hadn't noticed, and the members of the party were now staring at him and the girl, most bearing looks of concern.
"Welcome Ron." She stated, her voice shaking just slightly. He knew that voice. His mind was racing as she took a step towards him, closing the distance that had been set when he first saw her. Her arms awkwardly circled his waist in a mock hug, as she breathed, "It's good to see you."
He willed himself to speak. Saying anything would be better than just staring. Everyone in the room had started to talk again but were still looking apprehensively towards them, as if they were some sort of show.
"Are you going to say anything Ron?" She asked quietly, looking up at him with tentative chocolate eyes.
"Um----
"Yes?"
"Is that really you Hermione?" He asked dumbly, mentally smacking himself the moment the phrase escaped his lips. Nice one, he scorned himself.
"Yes, yes it is me silly." She giggled slightly.
"You look---good." He croaked, attempting to sound as calm as possible. Another low giggle from Hermione only caused him to feel more uncomfortable as he squirmed out of her arms, pressing his back against the wall behind him.
"Why don't we join the party Ron? We can catch up some other time." She stated bluntly, her voice had dropped a few inches in what he presumed had been excitement. He moved into the room and towards Harry, who was still in a conversation in the corner with Dean. Ron reached his side and was handed a butterbeer. He exhaled deeply, a breath he hadn't known he had been holding, and smiled graciously at Harry. Hermione had moved to sit with Ginny and Luna, talking animatedly with them and sipping lightly on what appeared to be champagne.
"That wasn't the reception I imagined." Harry whispered.
"No kidding, I thought she would have screamed at you." Dean interjected, "What happened to her 'I'm never speaking to you again' thing Ron?"
"How would I know?" He retorted slightly loud.
"Keep your voice down Ron, she might here you." Draco whispered as he stepped to join the men, his face peaked in its usual smirk.
"What's it to you Draco?" Ron hissed.
"Nothing just stating the obvious." He whispered back, brushing Ron's comment off.
"Well don't state anything at all." He hissed again.
"Calm down Ron." Harry interjected. Ron could feel the color creeping up into his neck as Draco smirked at him again, his blonde hair falling in front of his eyes.
"Oh don't stop him Harry I want to see what he has to say." Draco coaxed a glint of evil sparkling in his gray blues.
"Why do you give at all what I say about Hermione?" Ron hissed, slightly louder.
"I really don't care mind you. I really don't care at all. But it is obvious isn't it---your desire for her?" He accented the word desire, making Ron's fists clench and his teeth grind together.
"I don't desire anything from her you---
"I've seen that look before---
"Well you must be seeing things!" Ron shouted, immediately lowering his voice as a few heads turned to look at him, including Hermione's. His eyes caught hers for just a brief second, and his belly began to warm and tingle in ways he hadn't experienced since Hogwarts. He could hear Draco mumble something causing Harry and Dean to laugh as he pointed, but it sounded distant.
"Honestly Ron, why deny it when you know it's true?" Draco whispered.
"Because anything you say makes as much sense as Snape himself." Ron spat. Dean whistled lowly and then laughed again, small spits of butterbeer escaping his mouth.
"That was slightly---hurtful---Ron considering I am the new Potions master, and yet---no I don't feel the least bit offended." Draco shrugged.
"Just shut it." Ron hissed again.
"Ron that is no way to treat your future brother-in-law you know." Dean muttered, almost immediately clasping a hand over his mouth. He exchanged a worried glance between Harry and Draco before turning and quickly walking away. Ron however, was staring in the direction of Ginny, whose left hand was holding a champagne glass. He could see, slightly shining, a small diamond strung around her third finger. He let out a low groan before stomping out of the room and down the hall.