After his 'rendez-vous' with Malfoy he had felt like a maddened bull, his conflicting thoughts and emotions only serving as a red rag to further enrage and confuse him. However, as time had passed he had gradually returned to reality, and he became more sensible of his surroundings.
He was aware that he was cold, and that his jaw was stinging rather unpleasantly. Touching it tentatively he was not surprised to find that it was bruised. 'Shit' he thought. 'I'll have to get Madame Pomfrey to sort that for me. And what will Harry think? And Hermione...' Casting his gaze around the room, Ron's eyes alighted upon a little compact case of foundation lying on the floor, probably discarded by some careless 8th Year girl. For one moment he considered using it to cover up the bruise, before being suddenly repelled at the thought. 'First, having a snog with Malfoy, now getting myself dolled up! What in the bloody hell is wrong with me?'
However disturbing this thought had been, it did afford him a moment of mental clarity, as he dwelled upon that last phrase. 'What IS wrong with me?' The events of the past couple of days simply did not make sense. He had had it off with a boy. Not just any boy, either, but Malfoy. His arch-nemesis, his foil, the bane of his life... he could go on. Why, when they had met on the 3rd floor, had he been unable to act on his impulses? It had been as though he was not in control of his own behaviour. There was absolutely no way in Hell he would ever have tried to kiss Malfoy if he had been in possession of all his faculties. Unless he wasn't. But what could have happened then? Was he just making excuses for the fact that he had fancied Malfoy all along? No, no, it simply wasn't possible. Malfoy had denied drugging him, but who else could be the culprit? Unless...
'HAAAAAAARY!' bellowed Ron, as he bowled into the Gryffindor Common Room, ignoring the withering look he received from the Fat Lady. Making his way past tables of nonplussed looking Gryffindors, Ron strode over to a small pair of armchairs in the corner of the room, where Harry and Hermione had been previously chatting animatedly, but were now staring at him in a shocked silence. He hissed at them predatorially. 'You two. Outside. NOW.'
Ron ignored their bleats of confusion and disgruntled mumbling as he bustled and shoved them out of the main building and into the grounds, where a gentle breeze played across the grass as dusk began to blot out the Sun's last diluted rays. Hermione folded her arms in consternation, evidently annoyed about having her studies disturbed. 'Look, what is this about, Ron? And was there any need to bring us out here? And where have you been all evening?'
'Ohoho. That is RICH Hermione. YOU are moaning at ME, after what the pair of you have done?'
Harry and Hermione exchanged a nervous glance. How could he have found out?
'I'm sure I don't know what you mean Ron.' Replied Hermione, smiling somewhat strainedly. She did not want to confess so readily, especially as Ron was looking less than mentally stable at the present time.
'Oh, you know what I mean, Herm. You're the smartest girl in the year!'
Ron's behaviour was becoming increasingly erratic and Harry grasped his wand in his pocket, the coarse texture of the wood having a calming effect on him. 'Look Ron, shall we just sit down and have a chat about this? If you're talking about that Chudley Cannons book I borrowed off you, I WAS going to give it ba-'
'Well, there is the Chudley Cannons book, but I must confess I was thinking more about the way you two decided to DRUG ME.'
Harry coughed.
Seeing that he wasn't prepared to volunteer an explanation, Hermione decided to bite the bullet, and placed her hand on Ron's arm, in a placating gesture. 'Look, Ron. You have to believe me when I say we only had your best interests at heart. We used a harmless potion from a book in the library... we just wanted to prevent any unnecessary friction between you and Malfoy.'
Ron winced at Hermione's use of the term 'friction', but at least he finally had the confirmation that he wasn't actually mad, which heartened him somewhat.
'When does it wear off?' he asked, arms resolutely folded.
'Well it should have done already' answered Harry, finding his voice once more.
'Excellent.' nodded Ron. 'Great, fabulous, marvellous, fantastic, wonderful.'
Hermione and Harry at this point didn't know whether to be pleased or very, very afraid.
Unfolding his arms, Ron's face returned back to it's natural openness, and he even mustered a grin, placing his hands on both their shoulders and leading them back to the Common Room.
'I was just wondering why I couldn't kick his arse, that's all.'