Chapter nine
"...and what am I supposed to wear to this thing? I have no idea how muggles dress for formal things. And how is she going to expect me to treat her, in case you haven't noticed over the last five years I'm not exactly a gentleman. And what-"
Harry nodded as he looked for a new quill while Ron babbled on about the ball.
"Hey, Ron, look." Harry cut him off, "Wow, that bloke's brilliant. Look."
Ron stopped babbling and looked where Harry was pointing. He nodded at his friend and they walked over to the stand set up on the main road of Hogsmeade. Harry was right, this man was brilliant, he had set up a stand of catalogs and magazines of muggle clothing for Hogwarts students to order for the ball. This guy was going to be rich by the end of the week. And buisness was already bustling around the small cart in the middle of the street. Harry and Ron each grabbed a catalog and paid the man two knuts each before they went to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer to decide on what they will order to wear to the ball.
By an hour later they both had decided on basic coat and tie suits and sent their owls to the wizarding company that sold all the muggle clothes.
When they were walking back to the Griffindor common room to do their homework for the week they ran into Hermione and Ginny. Ginny's cheeks were tear-stained and she covered her face when she saw the two boys.
Ron started to ask her what was wrong but Hermione shook her head and led Ginny down the corridor into the prefect's bathroom.
"Dean." Crys said from in between them, making them jump.
"What'd he do this time!" Ron nearly yelled at her.
"Nothing," she responded looking into his eyes, "She's just really upset. She thinks she isn't satisfying him."
The color drained out of Ron's face. He started towards the prefect's bathroom in long strides. He could hear Crys' quick footsteps behind him as she followed. Harry stood rooted to the spot he had been in when he first saw Ginny. Ron opened his mouth to say the bathroom's password when Crys stepped in front of him.
"Ron, I'm pregnant." she said quickly, "with your baby." she burst into tears and ran down the hallway.
Ron turned to look at Harry's stunned face.
"That's not possible," he said hurredly, taking backward steps after Crys, "We didn't go that far. She can't be." he turned around and ran after her.
"Crys," Ron said softy, slowly approaching her sobbing form in the corner, "Crys are you alright?"
She shook her head without looking up from her knees.
Ron sank down against the stone wall next to her and slid his arm around her shoulders.
"Ron," she said raising her head, there was no trace of a tear on her face, "You know you shouldn't have tried to follow Ginny and Hermione into that bathroom. Ginny's fine, she's just upset. Everyone has the right to get upset."
Ron's mouth gaped.
"Okay, I kow pregnancy was a big subject to fake on but I wanted to make an impact so I had to go big. I couldn't just let you walk in there. That poor girl has six older brothers who think it's their job to watch over her when she is perfectly capable of watching over herself."
He didn't close his mouth. Crys put her hand under his jaw and did it for him.
"I'm sorry I tricked you but I was just trying to protect Ginny." She stood up and started to walk away. After a few feet she turned back to him.
"You coming?"
Ron didn't move. "You scared me so much. More than spiders ever did. Even more than the thought of my mother angry had. You had me thoroughly frigthened, Crys, because I knew we hadn't gone that far and that meant that if you were pregnant, then it had to be someone else's. And I really don't want you to be with anyone else."
Crys' face now sported a frown as she walked back and sat next to him. She wrapped her arms around him as best she could.
"I'm sorry, Ron," she whispered only a centimeter away from his cheek, "I'm really sorry."
He buried his face in her warm, soft hair. He slowly inhaled, never ever wanting to move again. And they sat there just like that, Crys' arms wrapped around Ron, both of them sitting on the cold stone floor, breathing in the scent of each other, until the sun rose over the horizon on Sunday morning.
