A/N: I've got good news and bad news. The good news? I decided to add just one more chapter, so this isn't the last! The bad news? Chapter 5 might not be up for a few days, although the wait shouldn't be as long this time. When I went to finish the story I realized I needed an extra scene. I figured that after torturing Hermione, it was Ron's turn to suffer a bit. Cackles gleefully. But Chapter 5 is mostly already written, it just needs to be proofed. Give me till Monday. If I couldn't finish by Valentine's Day, at least I'll finish a week to the day later, for whatever that may mean.
Standard Disclaimers Apply: Harry Potter Co. belong solely to JK Rowling.
Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who reviewed! Please keep reviewing! Reader Review Responses are below.
Hermione's Valentine
"You can tell the world, you never was my girl.
You can burn my clothes when I am gone.
Or you can tell your friends,
Just what a fool I've been
And laugh and joke about me on the phone.
But don't tell my heart, my achey breaky heart
I just don't think he'd understand.
And if you tell my heart, my achey breaky heart,
He might blow up and kill this man."
- Billy Ray Cyrus, "Achey Breaky Heart."
Chapter 4
Wisely, the three boys didn't hang about to discover what revenge an enraged and cranberry sauce-soaked Pansy Parkinson might inflict upon them.
Before the spluttering Slytherin could recover herself, Harry grabbed Ron and Neville and dragged them away, shoving aside the Slytherin first years to reach the doors. Once outside, they raced through winding corridors and up crooked staircases until they reached the Fat Lady. Harry breathlessly shouted "Cheese whiz!", and they tumbled through the portait hole.
"Ugh," Neville panted once they were through. He shrugged his rumpled robes back into place, glared at Harry, and then turned to Ron. "Is Ginny like that at home?" he gasped in disbelief. "Wow, remind me never to get on her bad side. My relationship with condiments is bad enough as it is."
Ron muttered something Harry couldn't quite hear, but which sounded like: " . . . taking after Mum more and more . . . a terrible temper . . . quite nasty, really." Harry was just about to laugh and ask Ron about a certain incident involving Malfoy and a bowl of green pea soup, when he noticed that every face in the Gryffindor Common Room was turned toward them in dead silence.
He gulped, the laughter dying in his throat. He had forgotten that no matter how swiftly feet may travel, rumor can never be outraced.
Disgust stared out at him from every female face he saw. Girls were scattered about in groups, and Harry could tell from the accusatory silence what they must've been talking about when the three of them entered.
To make matters worse, Ron seemed to be noticeably short of allies. There were almost no boys present. Harry guessed they must've already retreated to their dormitories, where they were assured of shelter from the coming storm. The few brave - or dimwitted - ones who remained stared guiltily at their toes, obviously believing that Ron's crime indicted them all.
Hermione and Ginny were nowhere to be seen, but a few heads turned meaningfully toward the girls' staircase told Harry in what direction they must've gone.
At least it's Ron they're mad at for once, and not me, he thought with a slight twinge of guilt. Still, he didn't want his friend to suffer more than needed.
"Uh, Ron," he whispered, leaning forward and tugging on his friend's robes. "Do you want to go study in the library tonight?"
"You know," Neville agreed, backpedaling nervously toward the portrait door. "I think Harry's got a brilliant point there . . ."
"No, I want to stay here," Ron insisted. He hunched his shoulders and walked forward. Exchanging trepidated glances, Harry and Neville followed. Faces turned to stare as they passed. Lavender Brown gave a loud sniff.
"If I was Ginny," she said just loud enough so all could hear, "I certainly wouldn't have wasted that cranberry sauce on prissy Pansy Parkinson . . ."
There were angry feminine murmurs of assent throughout the room. Neville gulped and went pale.
"Rotten luck, Ron," Colin Creevey muttered sympathetically, low enough so that only they could hear. "I mean - women!"
Ron shot him a withering look.
They approached the armchairs positioned before the fire. Three first years were sitting there, curled up in blankets with parchment and quills. They watched wide-eyed as Ronald Weasley stormed toward them.
"Scat, brats," he growled menacingly.
With a flurry of parchment and muttered apologies, they gathered their things together and fled.
Ron collapsed in a now-empty - but still warm - armchair and stared moodily at the fire. Harry and Neville took the seats beside him.
Harry tried to find something helpful to say. He had never seen Ron look so miserable before. "You know," he said in what he hoped was a cheerful manner, "Lavender's right. It really could've been you with cranberry sauce down your shirt. Or even worse . . . liverwurst."
Ron gave him a sardonic glance. "That was not helpful, Harry," he said. "Try again."
"How about a nice, sympathetic silence?" Neville asked hopefully.
Ron nodded, his eyes fixed on the flames before him. "Fine."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Sounds good to me," he said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against a pillow. Valentine's Day! he thought with disgust. Apparently, even the wizarding world was not immune to its destruction and mayhem.
Slowly, conversation was building up around them as students started to mingle again in the normal fashion. Reassured by the lack of screams and shattering glass, several boys ventured forth from their dorms and made their way tentatively back downstairs.
Fred and George were among these. Harry saw their twin heads peer around the edge of the spiral staircase, scan the room quickly, and then locate their youngest brother sitting next to the fire.
"Look, George! There he is!"
Ron groaned and shut his eyes.
Fred and George sprinted forward, launching themselves over chairs and ducking under tables like secret agents. Angry protests and projectiles of wadded-up parchment followed in their wake.
"Ronniekins!"
"You're alive!"
"And not maimed!"
"And definitely not covered with flobberworms - "
"Haha. Very funny, dear twin of mine. I wouldn't dare sleep tonight if I were you . . ."
Breathless with anticipation, the twins perched themselves on Ron's armrests and leaned in upon their brother.
"C'mon, Ron," Fred prodded, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Spill the beans. Everyone already knows everything anyway . . . You should've heard the language our dear, innocent Ginny used."
"Scary. Bloody scary."
"But we want details."
"Explicit details. For example, did Hermione really do a strip tease to Achey Breaky Heart?"
"Hey, guys," Harry asked desperately, seeing the sick look on Ron's face. "Maybe another time?"
Fred looked at him with one eyebrow raised. "I don't think you quite understand, Harry," he said solemnly. "The first time a Weasley man makes an arse out of himself over a women is a momentous occasion. We need to know all the juicy details so we can chronicle it appropriately."
"Don't worry. We already have pictures of Percy in the underwear Penelope bought for him. You'd be surprised how good he looks in pink ruffles."
"I didn't make an arse out of myself," Ron snarled, pulling an open book toward him and fixing his eyes upon it. "Hermione just - just . . . kissed me, all right! I don't know why she did it! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Of course you didn't, Ickle Ronniekins." George rolled his eyes. "You acted in a true gentlemanly manner, the 'parfit gentile knight.' That's why every women in this room is swooning at your feet."
Those of the fairer sex who were within earshot glanced disdainfully in their direction. Snorts of disgust were distinctly audible.
"See what I mean?"
Fred draped a chummy arm about his younger brother's shoulders. "Look here, Ron," he advised. "When you're in love with a classy lady like Hermione, you can't just -"
"I'm NOT in love with Hermione!" Ron roared.
Heads whirled in their direction.
Fred and George exchanged knowing grins over their brother's head. "He that doth protest too much . . ." George said wisely, laying a finger knowingly along his nose.
"Oh, shove off!" Ron snapped, hunching over his book.
Harry, Ron, and Neville remained by the fire for hours pretending to study. Neither Hermione nor Ginny made an appearance downstairs, which Harry could only assume was good news for the future symmetry of Ron's nose. Still, he was worried about Hermione. Almost he considered getting his invisibility cloak and sneaking up the girls' staircase to see if she was alright. He hadn't liked that look on her face as she escaped the Hall.
Still, that would mean leaving Ron to the tender mercies of Alicia and Angelina, who looked like they were just waiting for the perfect moment to pounce . . .
Harry couldn't do that to a friend.
The night went on, and the Common Room slowly drained of students as their yawning housemates tumbled their way sleepily upstairs. When the grandfather clock struck midnight, Harry, Ron, and Neville were the only ones left.
Harry's mind was numb with exhaustion. He had meant to stay in the Common Room until Ron felt like going upstairs. But glancing at his friend, he saw that Ron's long nose was buried in a book, which he appeared to be reading ferociously. There was no hint of tiredness in his face. Harry then looked at Neville. The other boy's eyelids were drifting shut, and his head was lolling to one side. He kicked him swiftly in the shins. Neville started and looked at Harry in befuddlement. Harry raised his eyebrows and jerked his head toward the spiral staircase. Neville sighed and nodded in grateful agreement.
Together they yawned, stretched, and rose to their feet. "Hey, Ron," Harry mumbled, linking his hands behind his head and arching his back. "I think Neville and I are heading upstairs. You coming?"
"Not yet," Ron replied, rubbing a fisted hand against his eyes. "I want to finish this assignment before I sleep."
Harry and Neville looked worriedly at each other. Ron Weasley staying up late in order to finish homework was a phenomenon never heard of before. But considering everything, Harry supposed his friend might have good reasons for wanting to be alone tonight. He shrugged his shoulders at Neville helplessly. "All right, then," he said. "See you in the morning, mate."
Ron waved one hand absently in response. "G'night."
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Reader Review Responses
darkwickedwitch: Thanks! Let me know how you feel about Ron after this chapter! Don't feel sad for Hermione, she'll get plenty of happiness to make up for it : ).
GiGiFanFic: Ah, it's those who are ill-suited who make the greatest couples. I sincerely believe that! And I'm always rooting for Ginny.
Zyber Elthone: Thanks!
sincerelywithhopeforthefuture: I'm working on updates as fast as I can! Honest!
jaimie-louise: Thanks!
: Thanks!AJ Lovegood: Of course I'll finish! I couldn't leave a story this good hanging : ). They only thing I have to worry about is getting too attached to it . . .
: Of course I'll finish! I couldn't leave a story this good hanging : ). They only thing I have to worry about is getting attached to it . . .