iii.
"…Pretend that you're feeling-
…A little more pain."
~Faith Hill~
"Oi!.. Oi, Bill!"
Ron called out upon seeing another familiar face in the crowd. Frantically, Ron Weasley had been dodging in and out of the sea of bodies, scouring the Great Hall's floor for Hermione.. who had mysteriously vanished from his side. Not that it was of much urgency. She'll come back to you, always does. With that thought tucked neatly away, the tall lad took this opportunity to cavort with his older brother, who happened to be there as well, touting some part of the Ministry's many job opportunities, no doubt.
The ginger-haired, ponytail-wearing man, spirited about at his name being called. A roguish smile crept over his features before he made his excuses to the youngish group of girls that gravitated about him within the past hour; all preening and wanting his attention. Of all the Weasley boys, Bill had always been a bit of a ladies man. With his outgoing personality and his love of life, he had been a catch for the London socialites. Much to the dismay of many a haughty wizarding families. But since his separation from his partner some 5 or 6 months before, the once rebellious prodigal son, had opted to change at least his work ethics. The hair remained the same, sans earrings and worn leathers. Befit now with a deep wine-colored robe, Bill took on a more conservative gloss.
He had been hard pressed by the higher ups of the Ministry echelon to look for a probable replacement(s), hence his showing here. Bill did make headway; most have been of the female species- turning in resumes and being interviewed. He had no clue why. Setting that part of business aside, the lofty hieghted Weasley man strode forth offering a congenial hug to the younger Weasley. A resounding clap thudded upon Ron's back, accompanied by a basso salutation,
".. There y'are, didn't think I'd've gotten a chance 'ide nor 'air of y'Ronnie. Been thinkin' that girl o'yours been keepin' y'oled up an' all."
Affording a few slap-induced coughs, Ron regained his composure then grinned.
"Can't blame her f'that, now can I, Bill? Something' about us Weasleys after-all." gloated Ron. His eyes caroused Bill's booth, again in search. But this time for Bill's beauteous assistant. Ron, in hopes to impress the quarter Veela, pressed the front of his Gryffindor robes then raked his fingers through his hair.
"Ey.. Isn't th'Oh-So-Lovely Ms DeLacour 'ere with ya? 'ope you don't mind my wantin' to say my 'ellos to 'er. Smashing woman an' all.." bemused the young Weasley.
It wasn't a secret to anyone- that Ron loses all bodily functions whenever Fleur was about. But he couldn't help himself, as much as Bill could.
When Bill had first laid his eyes upon the woman, it was as if he took his first breath of life. She was exquisite. Full lips, a lithe yet athletically toned body right down to that purring French lilt. She had been everything to him.. including the only competition that ever challenged him via magic. Somewhere along the way.. something was lost. Fleur never really cared for the work any longer, never worked as hard, always seemingly wanting time with him; to which he readily explained that's why they had a loft together, they can spend time when time is given-at the loft. Or why he had to make the sacrifices and spend all those late nights in the office. In the end.. she didn't understand him.
"She decided this wasn't the place for her." Bill said matter of factly. "Fleur wanted t'leave, mate. Sorry t'disappoint." he rested his paw upon Ron's shoulder, giving it a somber squeeze.
"She left you, then?" Ron sounded dejected, "So.. she's not 'ere?" The young Weasley's shoulders began to droop.
With a shrug of his broad shoulders, and a nod of his head, Bill gave his reply. "Enough of that, ey? Now.." he paused looking about, "I'm not used t'seein' you by your lonesome Ronnie. 'Arry? 'Ermione? Ginny?"
Rubbing the butt of his chin, Ron gestured abouts the room, "Guess is good as mine, Bill- I know they're about 'ere somewheres." Slowly his glance went back to his brother, finally remembering his manners, "I'm sorry.. 'bout you an' Fleur." Bill shook his head. Ron continued, "Guess it was expected, with her being Quarter Veela an' all.. Flighty lots."
"Too right they are.." Bill muttered, anxious to get off the subject of his former lover, he changed the tone of the conversation, "Luck on finding a career y'like then?"
Ron wandered about the display Bill had going, picking up enchanted do-dads along the way, "Well.. I reckon anything 'Mione gets into.. I'll try for." Bill cast a quick glance to his brother before making his way to him and snatching the enchanted puzzle box he was toying with, from his fumbling grasp.
"Not a toy, mate." Bill grunted, "And what does Miss Granger think about that? What with you wanting to tail 'er and all."
"Well.. she loves me. She'll love the idea." Bill offered a nod of his head, far be if from he to tell his brother otherwise; it is after-all.. Ron and Hermione's affair.
Palming the piece in his hand, Bill turned about to return the object onto its cradle, when he looked up. He caught a glance of silver-white mane not too far in the distance. Only one person could ever manage to hold his attention captive. Even during their heated verbal sparrings. It's been almost half a year since he last saw the woman. Her things still had not been collected from the flat, everything that ever belonged to her was stored. As if not wanting to believe it, Bill screwed his eyes shut and afforded himself a few blinks of his eyes.
"What in th' bloody 'ell is she doin' 'ere.."
Ron lifted his gaze and sidled next to Bill. Following his elder brother's line of sight, the young Weasley offered a small little chortle of surprise. Which all but halted as he stole a glance at Bill. His brother was far from amused. Ron couldn't place a time when he saw Bill this.. perturbed. Or was it DISturbed? Traversing his gaze towards the woman, he spied another figure, not that much taller than Fleur. With the tell tale dense wavy locks that topped the other figure, Ron beamed.
"Hermione's with 'er."
Bill knitted his brows together. Ron hadn't noticed that his remark had hit a little chord within the Eldest Weasley. Not liking the site of Hermione with Fleur, Bill had every intent of trouncing up to the quarter Veela to give her what for.. until, Ron had, even above the din of the crowed, beckoned his mate over – a booming yell. At which, Hermione had inclined her head and offered a canted nodding acknowledgement towards Ron.
The ladies had then parted ways shortly after that. Hermione had turned about at this point and battled the tide of bodies to reach them. Once there, she had hoped to share news of her employ with Fleur Delacour, but before she could Ron eased towards his mate, with arms wide opened and instantaneously engulfed Hermione in an affectionate embrace. With the dip of his head, he yearned to feel the young muggle witch's lips on his. But the chastised look that Hermione afforded the hot-blooded male, only bade him to mewl out gutturally his displeasure.
"'Mione.. it's just a kiss."
"..Ron – you know how I feel about public displays of affection." Rolling his eyes, Ron dropped his arms to either side of his lanky form. Hermione looked apologetically towards Bill. But with a congenial shake of his head, the elder Weasley grunted his excuses to the pair,
"Got business to attend to, if'n y'don't mind a smite watching the booth, I'll return shortly." With that uttered, Bill didn't wait to hear their answer.
Not that it mattered.
Hermione ambled further into the expansive booth, clasping her hands before her as she peered at the trinkets graced on shelves - her mind drifted carelessly back into the dimly lit tent that she had just left. Cluttered as it may have been, the inner sanctum was.. comforting. Having a homey feel to it; though the company was a bit of a surprise. Everything was organized, by size and weight with labels indicating where the object was found. Obviously, whatever it was that Bill does for the ministry, Fleur was his counterpart. Each piece on display here, belonged to a part of history – So Hermione noted. Magical history anyway. Medicine bags from the native Americas, Druidic Parchments, and Incan petroglyphs..
"Ron, what exactly does your brother do for the Ministry?" came her soft query
"Och, well, a bit of this a whole lot of that –Reckon, since he's aces at breaking charms and counter curses is why they hired him, yeah? 'Ey – was that Fleur you were with, then?"
Hermione lanced her eyes upward, to meet with Ron's gaze. Usually the mention of Fleur's name, Hermione would have been up at arms, for some reason hearing her name roll from Ron's lips caused a different reaction; her insides gave an involuntary shudder – and her mind drifted once more, back, this time remembering those tantric icy storm colored eyes. She averted her gaze after a beat or so and responded with a shrug,
"Why? If it were.. will you go into convulsions?" A soft tease.
"I don't go into convulsions any longer, thankyouverymuch. Thought I'd pop my head in, say my 'ellos t'her, is all." Ron's visage drifted into a dream-like trance at the thought, of none other than Fleur.
Hermione arched her brow. It wasn't because Ron had thought to visit the quarter Veela that caused her to act this way, but it was the need to relay the fact that Fleur is NOT interested in cavorting with Ron, either on a basic level of acquaintance or friendship wise. But the following words that flew from her mouth seemed more venomous than naught,
"I'm sure your brother's told you, they're no longer together, but it also doesn't mean that you should up and bother the woman. She's a business to run, you know. Quite busy actually." She spewed in defense of the absent Veela.
Ron blanched. Before his lips curled into a lopsided smirk. He progressed closer to Hermione. The move, causing the young muggle-witch to repeatedly blink and cross her arms over the threshold of her chest. Once the gap had been closed, Ron reached forth, and cupped her cheek. His thumb began to caress the young woman's supple flesh..
"Hermione, you know you're the only one for me - She's just.. bloody eye-candy, but that's all, not a wit to 'er, I bet." That said, Ron pulled Hermione into a crushing embrace, then, pressed his lips to hers.
The movement had caught Hermione off guard. In a panic state and with hands plastered on the flat plane of Ron's chest, she pressed backward.
"What in the NAME of Merlin's Beard are you DOING??" her face flushed, the young prefect finally peeled herself from the equally as confused Gryffindor who held her.
Ron began to motion for Hermione to lower her voice, erstwhile the girl had shifted her gaze about the vicinity, and only to see a few wayward glances tossed their way by fellow Hogwarts students. Regaining her composure just a slight, Hermione barreled her gaze unto the red-ear-tipped male prefect before her.
"Are you done? Can I speak now?" a nod from Hermione, "I was trying to make you FEEL better, woman! I know how bloody loony you get about Fleur."
He began to pace before her, rubbing at his temples, "Blimey, Hermione - I swear sometimes – reckon you need to be committed. I love you, but CRIKEY, you're a mite scary."
Regulating her breathing, and rubbing her own temples, the girl continuously peered about, meeting curious looks – slowly, her eyes crested towards the illusory sandy dunes, hoping inwardly that Fleur hadn't seen the commotion. She hadn't realized her breath had been held.. at not seeing Fleur standing there, the breath in her lungs quickly dissipated. Hermione looked directly at Ron, her mind raced at an insidious speed, trying to think of an explanation for her erratic behavior. It wasn't justified, she knew that. And she couldn't understand the hidden reasons for her actions this day.
"Look, Ron, you know how I am about.. a-about a display like that. A-affection in a public place –" , Ron grunted. That meager action only served to agitate Hermione more. By all accounts, she had told Ron many a time that she's not the exhibitionist type. "You KNEW that, Ron! Don't you bloody pin this on me..!"
Her voice hitched lower, aware now that the curious onlookers began to look more like vultures waiting to swoop in to deliver the final blow. Stealing a side-glance, Hermione had caught Parvati Patil and Lavendar Brown smirking to one another, followed by a few lofty yet stifled giggles. She knew that at least one, if not both those girls had fancied themselves to Ron –And once she and the lad had gotten together, Parvati and Lavendar made it known to Hermione their dislike. Shifting her eyes back onto her beau, now redder than a boiled lobster, Hermione gritted her teeth, preparing for hurricane Ron to hit shore. At this point in time, those rumormongering twits could have him.
Ron stopped his pacing and glared back at Hermione, who held her ground. He felt his temples throbbing, and more importantly, his ears beginning to swell with heat.
"You're my girlfriend, for bullocks sake! EVERYONE knows this, it's EXPECTED that we do this sort of thing in public – It's silly you deny me, YOUR boyfriend, anything!" he huffed out furiously, "..Don't be so DAMNED frigid, Hermione."
It seemed, to Hermione that you could hear a heartbeat if you listened close enough. Granted, those too far from the scene at hand, didn't know what was going on, but those that did, immediately spread the word like wildfire. The activity of the Great Hall was slowing to simmer, whispers erupted from one end to another. But with her head inclined, and resolve shaking her diminutive frame.. Hermione stalked up towards Ron; casually as she could muster, reached both her hands upward, resting them with the flat of her palms upon his robe's lapels. Genially she began to tug gently at the lapels, pulling them closed.
"See how you make of the cold tonight, then. Don't expect me." Came her soft, barely inaudible rasped prose. As she raised her eyes to look at him - Hermione, as hard as she tried, allowed for a few strains of tears to paint her face. She lowered her preening hands, then, pivoted upon her planted heel, leaving the area. What few steps she took, it took every bit of her being to not crumple to the floor.
Bedraggled with confusion swimming all over his face, Ron tailed her, grabbing at her arm, to only whirl her back to face him, "We're not done 'ere. Where're you goin'?" He hissed.
Yanking her arm back, Hermione coolly replied, in between sniffles, "Shall I give you a report now? Fine. If you fancy to know.. I've left a few things at that tent yonder - resumes and the like. Perhaps the walk will thaw my rigidity off, mm?" then a pause, "you've said your piece. Now please.. let go."
With no more Fireworks to be had, Ron did just that; Hermione knew he had more than likely missed the double entrade. But far be it from her to repeat her intent. She felt extremely.. exhausted. The two parted ways. The Hall, then returned to its own business, though the buzz of what career path to take was obviously replaced with what had just happened. Ginny and Harry soon made their appearance, albeit late in fashion. Four eyes spirited to and from Hermione's retreating back to Ron's now drawn face.
"Bugger" came a coughing interjection, "a trial it was, trying to get through that mess.." Harry motioned towards the mesh of student bodies. "Uh..hm."
"Ron? Are you..?" asked Ginny.
Ron ran his mammoth paw through his hair and nodded, "Just a bit of a spat - Hermione'll get over it." He glanced towards Harry, who was busily affixing his slipping glasses upon the bridge of his nose, and Ginny, who was nibbling on her lower lip, awaiting any remark from her older brother. Clearing his throat Ron added, "So.. 'Arry, good slots open for you, then?"
Sharing knowing glances with one another Harry and Ginny took their queues. Harry eased himself alongside his best friend offering a bit of an elbowed nudge, while Ginny turned tail and was once more, swallowed by the sea of bodies.
"Yeah. Mad –Eye was abouts," Harry began, "tagged me and ran his schpiel about the Auror's lot." Soon as Ginny had made herself scarce, Harry clucked his tongue at the roof of his mouth. "What say we have a bit of a scrimmage- Quidditch does a body good after-all."
Ron offered a lopsided smile, accompanied by a chuckle, "it is getting' stuffy in 'ere, innit? Right then. Let's."
Once more, thank you for the comments. J I know it's a bit short – I'll make up for it with a hot interaction of our two leading ladies ;)
Next chapter shall be a bit of a doozy – Where were you when you realized there are things about yourself you didn't know, but ached to find out..? Hermione gets her chance to study herself for once.. she may like what she sees, or may not.. either way, there's no way for her to spell cast her way out of this.