Will this chapter be loaded with painfully awkward moments? Certainly. But awkwardness can be fun!
Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed (Ronhemie, I'm mentioning you by name so you can feel special again!). It means a lot. I hope you like this chapter!
Disclaimer: I own the characters no more than Ron owned his Divination O.W.L.
Part 4:
Harry woke up on the morning of his sixteenth birthday with a monstrous headache, and he had a feeling this one wasn't to be blamed on Voldemort. "Bloody hell," he groaned, forcing himself to sit up in bed and put on his glasses. According to the little round clock, it was already past eleven.
Sighing, he slid out of his bed and walked over to Ron's, prodding at the snoring lump under the duvet. "You'd better wake up, Ron. It's your bloody fault I've got a hangover, and I expect you to come up with some sort of… Hermione?"
Two cinnamon brown eyes peered out at him from under the covers. "Good morning, Harry," she said sleepily. "Happy birthday!"
"Thank you," he said, baffled. "Erm… if you don't mind my asking, Hermione, what are you doing in here? And where's Ron gone off to?"
"Ron's on the floor there," Hermione said, gesturing to the far side of Ron's bed. Harry stepped around it and, sure enough, there was Ron, sleeping soundly on the floor, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Okay," said Harry. "But that still doesn't explain what you're doing in here. And why aren't you hung over?"
"I don't know," Hermione shrugged. "I suppose I had less to drink than you did."
"You're evading my question," accused Harry. She looked at him guiltily.
"We were… up quite late… discussing… erm… the finer points of Quidditch."
He stared her down. Was she… blushing?
Harry's eyes widened incredulously. "Hermione, you and Ron didn't -,"
Suddenly, Ron emerged from behind the bed, grinning and stretching. "Good morning. Happy birthday, Harry!"
"Yeah, thanks," said Harry. "Tell me, Ron, why are you so cheery?"
"Do I look cheery?" Ron asked, smiling wider. "I reckon I do feel fantastic."
"What gives?" moaned Harry. "Why am I the only one with a hangover on my own bloody birthday?"
They wandered down for a late breakfast, and were surprised to find not only Arthur, Molly, and Ginny waiting for them, but also Fred and George (wearing matching tee-shirts that read "Harry Birthday, Happy!"). A pile of presents rested at one end of the table.
"Took you long enough!" crowed Fred. "Happy birthday, Harry." Ginny, who looked vastly more awake than she had yesterday, surprised him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and for a moment, he forgot all about his headache.
Five minutes later, they were all settled at the table while Mr. Weasley prepared a birthday fry-up. "Sixteen was a great year," George was saying. "Ah yes, I remember it well."
"I believe that was the year we bet on Ireland and Krum at the World Cup, but that wanker Ludo Bagman -,"
"Language, Fred," warned Molly.
"Sorry, Mum," said Fred, "But he really was a wanker. He paid us in bloody leprechaun gold! Anyway, Krum really came through for us," he added with a sly look at Ron.
Fred and George never thought they'd see the day when a mention of Viktor Krum would fail to get a rise out of their younger brother, but Ron simply smiled.
"Right good Quidditch player, Krum is," he said.
Before long, the boys were engrossed in a rousing conversation about Quidditch, and though Ginny loved Quidditch dearly, there was something even more intriguing she wanted to discuss. She kicked Hermione under the table, just hard enough to get her attention.
She raised one eyebrow. "And where were you last night?" she asked, without saying a word or even moving her lips.
Hermione blushed deeply and smiled.
Ginny's eyes widened. Slowly, she shifted them towards Ron, and back again towards Hermione.
Hermione nodded slightly.
"Wow," mouthed Ginny, grinning.
Hermione quickly stuffed her mouth full of eggs, and pointedly resisted eye contact with Ginny for the rest of the meal.
Thankfully, Harry's headache subsided once he'd managed to get some food down, and he spent the rest of the meal chatting with the twins, though truthfully his mind was elsewhere. For one thing, he was outrageously curious about what was going on between Ron and Hermione. Hermione staying up late to discuss "the finer points of Quidditch"? Not bloody likely. And not only were they both being exceptionally quiet this morning, but he'd caught them sneaking glances at each other all throughout the meal. Harry looked at Ginny and wondered what she had thought, waking up this morning and discovering Hermione's empty bed, still neatly made from the previous morning.
Ginny caught him staring and flashed him a mischievous smile, making him blush. She looked truly lovely this morning, with her hair tumbling loose past her shoulders. Unconsciously, he touched the spot on his cheek where she had kissed him, and felt a sweet shiver of excitement. He wondered if any of the presents on the table were from her.
"You'll be opening ours first," said George, after Mrs. Weasley had cleared the table with a flick of her wand. Fred slid a box in front of Harry that was so tiny, Harry couldn't imagine what it could be besides jewelry – which would be a rather intimate present, coming from the twins.
"Go on, Harry, open it," urged Fred. Harry unwrapped it neatly and slowly lifted the lid off the tiny black box that was inside.
"Wow…um…great, guys. A wee elephant." Harry was thoroughly confused. "I reckon I do like elephants."
The twins rolled their eyes. "Harry," said Fred, "You have to put it in your ear."
Harry studied the small metal elephant, no bigger than a knut. "In my ear?" he asked suspiciously. "Which ear?"
"Either one!" George said impatiently. "Come on now, Harry, we don't have all day."
Harry looked from one twin's grinning face to the other's. If this ear elephant was dangerous, they wouldn't give it to him in front of their mother, would they? Hoping he was right, Harry took a deep breath and positioned the small piece of metal awkwardly in his right ear. The twins' smiles widened expectantly.
"Hey!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm hearing a Quidditch game – the Montrose Magpies. Can you hear that, Ron?"
"Can't hear a thing," said Ron, looking baffled.
"Of course you can't," said Fred proudly. "It's one of our newest inventions – doesn't even have a name yet. You just stick it in your ear, and it's tuned into every Quidditch game in Europe. You can program it in advance to play your favorite teams."
"Perfect for boring classes," George added.
"Excellent!" exclaimed Harry and Ron simultaneously.
"Are you out of your minds?" Hermione asked, horrified. "They've got their NEWTs to worry about! They can't be listening to Quidditch in class!"
"But Hermione," Ron said with a suspiciously sweet smile. "I thought you loooooved Quidditch." Hermione blushed and looked down at the table with an expression none of them could decipher.
"Well, I'm sure they know better than to use the little elephant in class, right boys?" said Mrs. Weasley, without missing a beat.
"Right," they chorused, exchanging guilty smiles. It wasn't as if they were planning on bringing it to their important classes, anyway.
Fred winked at Harry. "So you like?" he asked, smiling smugly.
"Yes, thank you!" Harry smiled back.
"Out of curiosity," interjected Ginny. "Why an elephant?"
"Easy," said George. "Didn't mum always tell you never to stick anything smaller than an elephant inside your ear?"
This is what I call a birthday, thought Harry, smiling to himself as he opened the rest of his presents. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley has bought him a pair of green pajamas, identical to Ron's maroon pair, apart from the color. "Great," Ron had said, rolling his eyes. "We'll look like twins. The other guys will be so impressed."
"What've you got against twins?" George had replied.
Hermione had managed to find a book on Hogwarts Quidditch legends that mentioned Harry's dad. Ron had bought him a poster of a hippogriff that looked remarkably like Buckbeak, with wings that flapped and flashing eyes. Ginny had saved her present for last. "Here," she said, handing him a box not much bigger than the one from Fred and George.
Harry opened it slowly, feeling excited and inexplicably nervous. He removed a layer of tissue paper from the box, revealing a tiny red and gold figurine.
"A phoenix!" said Hermione. "How lovely."
Harry gently lifted it to eye level and examined it closely. "It looks just like Fawkes," he marveled. It was so detailed and lifelike, he half expected it to jump out of his hands.
"Do you like it?" Ginny asked uncertainly.
"Yes!" he said. He looked at her and smiled. Though everyone else surely believed the gift to be a reference to the Order of the Phoenix, Harry knew Ginny had meant it as a reminder of how Fawkes had saved them his second year, in the Chamber of Secrets.
A very personal gift, he realized with a thrill. But then, Dean Thomas had just celebrated a birthday in June. He wondered what Ginny had gotten for him.
In honor of Harry's birthday, the Weasley kids and Hermione took another day off from cleaning and wedding preparations. Thus, the early afternoon was declared by Fred and George to be "prime Quidditch time", and the six of them headed out back with brooms and balls.
Hermione sighed. "Do I really have to play again? I'm rubbish at Quidditch."
"Of course you have to," said Fred. "You wouldn't be able to bear the guilt of making the teams uneven."
"Strangely enough, I do believe I could bear it," replied Hermione, but nevertheless she remained outside, gazing at the sky with obvious reluctance.
"Actually," said Ron a moment later, "I'm feeling a bit worn out myself. You four play, and I'm sure Hermione and I will find some way to entertain ourselves inside."
Fred grinned. "Oh, I'm sure you two will manage, won't you?" Both Ron and Hermione turned beet red. "Well don't let us keep you. Run along!"
"Back so soon?" asked Mr. Weasley, looking up from a copy of the Daily Prophet as Ron and Hermione walked past the table.
"We…er…left something upstairs, Dad," Ron called over his shoulder. Hermione followed him up the stairs and into the room he shared with Harry, shutting the door behind her.
"Not so squeamish about the door anymore, are you?"
"Nope," said Hermione, smiling. "It's funny, but after I talked to you about it, I really felt much better. I guess I just needed to get it off my chest."
"I guess so," said Ron, plopping down on his bed. "Erm… speaking of getting things off your chest…"
Hermione sat down beside him. "Right. We should talk."
Ron blushed. "Well, actually," he said, "I meant your shirt. I was wondering if maybe you could…erm…get your shirt… off your chest."
Hermione burst out laughing. "You want me to take off my shirt?"
Ron nodded solemnly.
"Wow, Ron," she said, laughing harder. "Right to the point. I'm guessing that means you don't regret what happened last night."
Ron's eyes widened. "I don't… do you?"
Hermione reached over and gently turned his face toward hers. She kissed him deeply, cupping his cheeks in both hands. "Nope, no regrets," she said, eyes twinkling.
"Wow," Ron breathed, opening his eyes slowly. "I… erm…think I could get used to that."
"Hermione smiled warmly. "I think I could, too." They sat there grinning at each other for a moment. Hermione took both of Ron's hands in her own.
"You know, I've wanted this since we were thirteen," Hermione said softly.
"But I was such a prat then!"
"Oh, make no mistake, you still are one," Hermione assured him. "But I've always had very low standards."
"Why, thank you," Ron said, kissing her on the nose. "That makes me feel so warm and fuzzy inside."
"That's what I'm going for," said Hermione, leaning in to kiss him again.
They managed to entertain each other quite successfully for hours.
By the end of a Quidditch-filled afternoon, Ginny and George had emerged victorious. "I hate to have pummeled you on your birthday, mate," George said, looking as if he didn't hate it one bit. "But I guess you're just no match for the G-team!"
"Oh, there they go again with the sassy nickname," moaned Fred. "Remind me never to let them play on the same team again."
"Don't hate us because of our name," George protested. "Hate us because we DOMINATE!" He and Ginny absorbed themselves in a bizarre sort of victory dance, which involved much hooting, hollering, shimmying, and hip bumping.
"C'mon, Harry, we don't have to put up with this rubbish," said Fred. "We'd have won anyway if we were playing properly, with a snitch." With one last disdainful sniff at George and Ginny, they retreated.
When Harry returned to his room, he wasn't entirely shocked to hear quiet music coming through the closed door, punctuated by the occasional soft giggle. He briefly considered knocking, but in the end, he decided to let them be. If Ron and Hermione had finally gotten around to snogging, he wasn't going to be the one to interfere.
He wandered back down the hallway, running his hand along velvety curtains and nodding hello to the friendlier portraits as he passed. "This place…" he thought. "I know you hated it, Sirius, but it reminds me of you all the same." It was easy to imagine his godfather walking down the hallways on lonely nights, just as Harry was doing now.
He hated to think of Sirius as lonely. "I should have figured out a way to spend more time with him," he thought, a lump beginning to form in his throat. "Or maybe I just shouldn't have gotten him killed." He closed his eyes quickly, willing the thought away.
Of course, he came across the tapestry. His eyes were drawn directly to the spot where Sirius' name would have been, had his mother deemed him worthy of the Black family name. Harry felt thankful that Sirius had been excluded – he wasn't sure he could bear the finality of seeing Sirius' name next to his brother Regulus', listed as dead.
Absorbed as he was, Harry didn't hear the soft footsteps coming towards him. "Harry?" said a voice. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumped.
"Ginny! You surprised me."
"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, "I wasn't trying to sneak up on you -,"
"No, I know." Harry attempted a lighthearted smile. "I guess I was just…"
"Just looking at that awful tapestry," Ginny said, shaking her head. "And feeling glum and guilty about Sirius, no doubt. You know he wouldn't want that, Harry, especially not on your birthday."
"I know," he sighed. "I've been trying not to think of it all, but then there it is staring you in the face."
Ginny nodded. "I think I know what you mean," she murmured, remembering that awful, sleepless night before Harry arrived.
Both were silent for a moment.
"Well," said Harry, smiling suddenly. "At least Ron and Hermione seem to be having a good day."
Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh! Oh, wow, are they – wait, you didn't walk in on anything, did you?"
Harry laughed. "No, I just kind of heard it through the door…"
"Still, how traumatic!" she moaned. "I mean, clearly it was bound to happen, but the thought of Ron kissing…" she trailed off, looking horrified.
"Traumatic for you," Harry said. "Just plain weird for me. Yeah, sure, I was urging Ron on all summer by owl post, but… I dunno… I reckon things will be a bit different with the three of us from now on."
"Oh, Harry, I hadn't thought of that," Ginny said sympathetically. "You poor thing – promise me you'll come find me whenever you need a refuge."
Harry smiled. "Definitely," he said.
"Good," Ginny replied. "Well, you stay cheery, okay? No more looking at that tapestry, especially not on your birthday." She gave him a stern look and set of towards her room.
Harry watched her go, smiling to himself. Then, suddenly, he remembered –
"Wait!" he called after her, running to catch up. She turned and looked at him quizzically.
"I think I need a refuge!"
Fin- Part 4
Author's note: Now seriously, don't go sticking teeny things in your ears. The elephant rule applies. My dad got the end of a Q-tip jammed down there once, and it wasn't pretty.
Oh, and happy almost half-birthday, Harry!