Disclaimer: Again, you'll be shocked to hear that I don't own Harry Potter.
Part 2:
Ron and Hermione lingered at the top of the stairs.
"I don't want to go down there," said Ron.
"We have to, Ron. It's our party. Your mum's been on this since we got our O.W.L. results back."
"Yeah," Ron murmured darkly. "Wish I'd failed a few more, then. Fred and George will never let me live this down."
"RON! HERMIONE! Any time you're ready!"
"That'll be Mum," muttered Ron.
"Come on," said Hermione, giving his shoulder and encouraging squeeze. "It'll be fun."
It seemed that just about the entire Order had shown up, as well as all of the Weasley children, even Percy (who was looking decidedly uncomfortable next to Mundungus Fletcher). Hermione's parents had been transported to the mansion as well, and seemed more than a bit overwhelmed. Mr. Weasley had taken the liberty of seating himself beside them, and was excitedly bombarding them with questions about "eclectricity".
"Mum! Dad!" said Hermione, running over to them.
"So this generator, you say, it- oh, hello Hermione."
"Hi, Mr. Weasley."
Ron watched her settle in happily between her parents and felt a flash of irritation. So Hermione was going to abandon him then, was she. Not that he cared…
"Why the long face, little bro?"
Ron was started to find himself standing, most inauspiciously, between Fred and George.
"Excellent party," George said, grinning. "You must have studied extra hard to earn all those O.W.L.s."
Ron's ears reddened. "Nah," he said. "I just did okay. Dunno why Mum's making such a fuss about it…"
"Modest, aren't we! What about that O in Defense Against the Dark Arts? The E's in Charms and Transfiguration?"
"Shut up, Fred."
"Hey," Fred replied. "No need to get huffy."
"Anyway," said George. "I reckon the reason Mum's making such a fuss is to shove it in our faces. Make us feel guilty for choosing… a different path."
"And a rather successful path it is!" Fred interjected.
"Right." George grinned. "Anyway, point is, we don't blame you, mate. We know you'd never excel on purpose."
"And we saw you got a D in Divination." Fred punched his arm heartily. "We're so proud."
"Er… thanks," said Ron.
"Don't mention it," the twins said simultaneously.
"Anyway," continued George, "We brought you something." Suddenly, each twin grabbed one of Ron's arms and yanked him into a private corridor.
"Why am I scared?" asked Ron.
"Relax," said Fred. "It's just our way of congratulating you-,"
"While simultaneously initiating you into the wonderful world of bacchanalic debauchery," finished George, handing Ron a brown paper bag. "Now, don't drink this all at once."
Ron peered past the twins to make sure no one was looking, and then slowly slid a long glass bottle out of the bag. "What is this stuff?" he asked.
"Essence of Applethorn," said Fred. "Think Butterbeer, only ten times stronger."
"Wicked," breathed Ron, scanning the bottle's label with approval.
"You're a man now, Ron Weasley," declared Fred, patting him on the back. "Do enjoy."
Ron quietly slipped away to stash the bottle under his bed, and returned just in time to see his brother Bill kiss Fleur Delacour on the cheek and stand to make a speech.
"Excuse me, everyone. Lend me your ears for a moment."
Two sets of Extendable Ears came flying at him from across the table.
"Thank you… Fred, George. Anyway, I'm so glad we're all gathered here today to celebrate the impressive academic achievements of my brother Ron and his girlfriend Hermione Granger."
"FRIEND!" Ron screeched, his face apple red. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Friend, then," corrected Bill, looking genuinely surprised. "Anyway, congratulations Ron and Hermione." Everyone clapped politely.
Bill waited for the applause to die down before continuing. "Now, Ron and Hermione, you'll have to forgive me for stealing your thunder. But since I don't know when we'll all be together like this again, Fleur and I have an announcement of our own."
Molly Weasley inhaled sharply and clasped her hands together, hoping, hoping…
"We're getting married!"
"Oh, Bill!" Molly exclaimed. She burst into joyful tears.
The room exploded into applause, and many of the women, plus Mundungus, were crying. Ginny jumped up and hugged Fleur, whispering, "Finally, a sister." Arthur Weasley looked from his son to his future daughter-in-law, beaming.
"This calls for a toast!" said Molly, smiling wetly. "To Bill and Fleur. May their love blossom and flourish. May they enjoy a lifetime of health and happiness together."
"To Bill and Fleur!"
"Hmph," said Ron under his breath, looking disgruntled. "Wasn't the toast supposed to be for me and Hermione?"
"So propose to her if you're that bothered," whispered Fred with a wink. Ron blushed and ignored him.
"Thank you," said Bill, holding Fleur's hand and grinning.
"Eetz so nice to be seeing you all on theez occasion," said Fleur. "I am looking forward to be seeing you again in three weekz for zee wedding."
Three weeks. Molly Weasley's face went white.
"We'll have to hold it here," sighed Mrs. Weasley over breakfast the next morning. "There simply isn't enough room at the Burrow. More juice, Ron?"
"Yes, please, thanks."
She refilled his glass, staring past him distractedly. "The ballroom upstairs will do… of course, it's an utter disaster now…"
"Got it covered, Mum," said Ginny. "We'll do it, no problem." Ron shot her a murderous look; Hermione bit back a smile.
"Would you, dear? Oh, that'd be such a help. There's still so much to be done with the Order – and I'm overjoyed about the wedding, of course, but it's all that much more to worry about."
"Couldn't I help out the Order, Mum?" ventured Ron hopefully. "I'd say my Outstanding Defense Against the Dark Arts skill would be wasted on cleaning –,"
"No, Ron," Molly sighed. "I'm sorry, but you know where your father and I stand on this one."
"But you're wrong!" Ron snapped, jumping out of his seat. "Oh, this is ridiculous. I'm NOT an infant, Mum." Bright red by now, he released a harsh breath through his nostrils and fled the kitchen.
Ginny caught up with him on the stairs. "Mum's all upset now," she said. "When will you just give it a rest?"
"Oh, aren't I such an awful person, then," spat Ron. "How dare I offer to help where it actually matters. How dare I -,"
"Deal with it, Ron. We're just too young -,"
"But we've been there, Ginny, right in the middle of all of it. Did they forget – did you? We've proven that we can handle this."
Ginny was quiet for a moment. Then, suddenly, she exploded. "Do you even remember that night? Do you!"
Ron laughed bitterly. "Yes, Ginny, I remember that –,"
"Then why on earth would you ever want to live through that again?" She closed her eyes momentarily and exhaled sharply. "God, I'm glad not to have to think about it for awhile."
"Yeah, well not thinking about it isn't an option for me, okay? Maybe you could care less about Harry, after Michael Corner and -,"
"How could you even say that?" Ginny looked like she'd been struck.
"Yeah, well," Ron muttered, his face flushed angrily.
Then, suddenly, he let out a long breath, and with that, his rage seemed to melt. His hand slid down the wall as he sat down slowly on the stairs.
Ginny sat down beside him. "You know I care about Harry, right?" You have no idea, she thought.
Ron nodded. "I know. I'm sorry, Gin. It's just – I'm not like you and Mum. I'm no good at just worrying. I have to be doing something…"
"But I honestly don't think there's anything we can do right now, Ron, I don't," Ginny said. "He'll be fine for now – we all will. And he'll be here in less than a week."
They heard Hermione say something to their mum in the kitchen, push in her chair, and walk towards them.
Ginny patted her brother on the back quickly and stood up. "I'll leave you two to talk," she whispered, and continued upstairs.
Hermione appeared a moment later. "Is everything okay?" she asked hesitantly.
Ron forced a smile. "Sure," he said. "I was just a bit frustrated, was all."
"Want to talk about it?"
Ron shook his head. "Not really, sorry."
"No, it's fine," said Hermione, looking a bit hurt. "Guess I'll be in my room, then…" Stepping carefully past Ron, she climbed upstairs, sighing softly when she reached the top.
Ron rubbed his nose. Why did girls always want to talk about everything? He was all talked out.
But still…
"Hermione, wait!" he hollered, clambering up after her. Maybe he fancied a chat after all.
Ten minutes later, they were sitting next to each other on the floor, their backs against Ron's bed. Ron knew he was supposed to say something about his scene at the breakfast table, but now he was at a loss. Maybe he had gotten himself all worked up at the time, but strangely, he couldn't seem to focus on feeling angry when he was sitting here by Hermione.
What he could seem to focus on was the way her hair was tucked behind her ear, and the way it curled down past her shoulders. And, funny as it was, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the curve of her breasts under her soft white shirt.
Hermione caught him staring and cleared her throat, looking amused.
Ron blushed. "Right. Serious talk. Let's get on with it, then."
"We don't technically have to have a serious talk, Ron," Hermione pointed out. "We could talk more about our OWL results, or maybe get started on our reading for next term -,"
"Oy, shut up," Ron said, punching her lightly on the arm. She punched him back.
Neither one spoke for a moment.
Ron sighed. "Okay," he said. "I suppose you want to know why I was such a complete arse to my mum back there."
"You were frustrated," Hermione said diplomatically. "And understandably so."
"Yeah, well," Ron scratched his chin. "I guess there's a bit more to it."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, well – hey, can we shut the door?"
Hermione bit her lip. "I'd actually rather not, if you don't mind…"
Ron stared at her, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah, about that," he said. "What is it with you and the whole door thing?"
"Door thing?" Hermione asked weakly.
Ron rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Hermione. You get your knickers in a wad every time someone closes a door, and I'd like to know what's up."
"Oh, it's so dumb," Hermione moaned, shaking her head.
"No, tell me," said Ron. "I promise I won't think it's dumb."
"Don't worry. I won't hold you to that." Hermione sighed. "I don't know, Ron. It's just an anxiety thing, I guess. Whenever I notice that the door is closed, it's like I can't focus on anything else – all I can think of is how anything could be behind it, and I wouldn't even have a clue."
"And this has been going on for how long?" asked Ron.
"Since that night at the Department of Mysteries. I guess it has to do with all those -,"
"Ooh yeah," said Ron. "There were quite a lot of… erm… doors there."
"See!" said Hermione. "How's that for Gryffindor courage? Scared of doors."
Ron started to laugh, but quickly covered it up with a cough. "Ah well… that's not so bad, Hermione. It actually makes a lot of sense."
"Yeah?" said Hermione.
"Well, sort of…" said Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"Anyway, what was it you were going to say before, Ron?"
"Er…don't remember."
"Well," said Hermione, "Why did you get so mad at your mum back there?"
"I wasn't mad," Ron protested. "I just think that…oh, I don't know. You'll think it's ridiculous."
"Ron. I just admitted to being afraid of doors. What could be more ridiculous than that?"
"Fair enough," said Ron. Hermione swatted at him. "No, seriously, the door thing isn't ridiculous. It was a really scary night, and you were there for the whole thing."
"So were you."
"Not really," said Ron with a sigh. "I mean, yes, I was technically there, but I wasn't exactly at my best, now was I?"
"That was hardly your fault, Ron! You were hexed by a –,"
"Yeah, well, my fault or not, I certainly wasn't very helpful that night." His eyes flickered upward to meet hers.
"Oh, Ron," she said. "You can't let yourself feel guilty about that. There was nothing you could have done! Even the strongest wizard couldn't have -,"
"I know," said Ron. "But there I was, all the same. A burden, rather than a help." He closed his eyes momentarily and leaned back further against his bed. "I'm sure I'd feel so much better about it if I could do something to make up for it, help out somehow…"
"But no one will let you," murmured Hermione sympathetically.
"Nope," Ron said, looking defeated. "Bloody frustrating, it is."
Hermione took his hand ever so gently and gave it a squeeze. She glanced at him nervously, as if expecting him to jerk his hand away, but he didn't.
He squeezed it back. Hermione felt a rush of warmth coarse through her body – and though it wasn't quite appropriate, she couldn't help but smile.
Fin- Part 2.
Author's note: I hope Hermione's anxiety thing didn't seem too farfetched. I think she seems the type to develop obsessive compulsive symptoms, don't you? Anyway, stay tuned for Harry's arrival and the festivities that ensue. More twins in later chapters, I promise!