Chapter 8: His Hand on Her Breast
Parvati and Ron were silent for a few minutes. He saw Hermione finding Dewey among the crowd and a few moments later they went outside.
"You know what, Ron? I've already lived this, too 'Dejá Vu' for me, so lets just call it a night."
"What?" he asked, now paying attention to his date, "Why?"
Parvati sighed. "Look, it's pretty obvious to me that you are after another girl... for quite a while I may add. You know, my sister warned me, but I just didn't listen. But anyway, I don't stand a chance against her."
"What? I don't... What are you saying?" said Ron confused, though it was just a mask to actually hide his true thoughts and feelings.
"Ron. You like Hermione. I bet you even love her--"
"I don't-- No, she's-- I've no idea what you are talking about."
"Fine, deny it if you want. But I would like to have a good time on my last night on Hogwarts and you searching for Hermione on the crowd is not my definition of fun, whether you want to admit it or not." Ron did not argue anymore. "Look," she sighed, "you danced with me, which is more than what you did for my sister. I even got a kiss and a date with the Gryffindor star Keeper and every one's gonna remember that. So, you can go now, go and find her, and tell her everything, otherwise I'll lock you both on a broom closet until you've snogged her senseless," she said with a naughty smile.
Ron could not believe what he was hearing. He was sure that she would have tore his head out the minute he admitted all she was stating was true, but no, oddly enough, she was letting him go, even advising him. He had always thought of Parvati as a shallow, manipulative, femme fatale kind of girl and, even though she still was a shallow, manipulative, femme fatale kind of girl, she was also quite mature and... cool.
Ron could only say one thing before going after Hermione: "Thanks... and well, I'm sorry."
"Hey, no problem. It's like I said: I've got my Prom picture with the Gryffindor star Keeper... Just... if things don't work out with Hermione... owl me, ok?"
Ron smiled, "Ok... see ya." And he left through the doors Hermione had left through with her date. He was not sure if following them outside was the best idea after seeing quite a few couples kissing passionately out there, among them Neville and Luna.
He walked a little further until he spotted Dewey and Hermione against a tree going at it. They were kissing and Dewey was slowly moving his hand, which had been perfectly still on her hip, up Hermione's breast. Ron was about to explode with anger; he was sure he was as red as blood, but before he could even move, he saw Hermione pushing him away.
"I said NO!" and then she punched him in the face and then, when Dewey fell to the floor due to the punch on his nose, she kicked him in the stomach, yelling: "Jerk!" and she was gone.
All Ron could do was smile with pride. He was happy he and Harry were such a bad influence on her. He was like this for some good ten minutes, watching the moaning figure of Dewey 'the perv' MacDillon. He then searched for her but she was long gone.
He went back to the Great Hall, looking for her, but all he found was his ex-date dancing with some boy he had never seen before and Harry and Ginny, who were simply sitting on a table, talking. They had not seen Hermione. He finally left the party and went straight to the Head Room, where he knew she would most definitely shut herself away, and called for Hermione for a while but there was no answer. She was not going to let him in, she was not even going to answer him. So he gave up.
A little hurt, Ron entered the Gryffindor Common Room. He had decided to take a bath and go to bed after he had finished packing the few things that were still on his room. So he went up stairs, noticing, first, a trunk near the girl's entrance, thinking whose trunk was it, and why had the owner left it down there, seeing that they were not leaving until after the ceremony the next morning.
He finished his packing quite quickly, took a quick shower and put on his pajamas: his old and tight Chuddley Cannons t-shirt and a pair of sleeping pants. He sat on his bed and took a little scrap-book from inside his trunk that Hermione had done for the three of them a few weeks ago. The cover was black and it said 'Hogwarts' on the middle with small, silver letters, and 'Ron Weasley' on the right bottom. It was not fancy or anything; he knew for a fact she had made them with her own hands. He passed the pages with moving pictures of his classmates and many of the three of them together. He found one that had been taken by Harry during their last visit to Hogsmade, and he thought how odd it was that the Ron on the picture kept staring at the Hermione on the picture when she was not looking. Was that what he did all the time? Looking at her when she was not looking? He closed the scrap-book and, as he was not tired yet, he decided to go down stairs and… do something. He took a book Harry had given him; it was a book about Quidditch of course, which he had already read 2000 times.
Ron walked down the stairs quite fast to notice that the trunk had been moved a little to the left and, now, half the trunk was in front of most part of the boy's entrance, so Ron, obviously, bumped into it, falling to the floor, with a very souring shank, cursing Merlin and the idiot who had moved that bloody trunk!
"Ron?" a sweet, soft and sad voice said from the sofa in front the fire place.
He looked up and saw Hermione's face over the sofa. She stood up, "I'm sorry. I left the trunk there, I didn't know there was anybody else in here," she said dragging the trunk, without the help of her wand, to the other side of the room.
"It's ok," said Ron, rubbing his leg as he looked at Hermione moving the large trunk with absolutely no problem. He had no idea what she was doing there. 30 minutes ago he had left from her door, accepting the fact she did not want to see him or talk to him. And all this time she had been right here. Back in Gryffindor.
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Author's Note II: Not too long, truth, but the best part is coming...