Disclaimer: I don't own the characters/situations. Lots of the dialogue is J.K. Rowling's, and I feel kind of bad about that.
To a few of my readers:
Leaviel: I changed the wording of the "sunlight" thing.
Love that Elf: I kind of don't understand the long hair, but it does look nice on Ron, doesn't it? I went to the forums of and someone has this absolutely gorgeous icon of Rupert Grint with long hair. He looks extremely cute.
Author's Notes: Does anyone feel bad for Lavender? I kind of feel bad for Lavender...
Being Won-Won +
by Jen Ann Bradley
-----
Days passed into weeks and Hermione still refused to speak to Ron. Although, to be fair, Ron had not tried very hard to win her back. He was sorry about the way things had turned out, but remained mostly unrepentant. Things were they way they were, and Ron felt that Hermione had no right to complain about them. After all, he'd never promised her a thing. They hadn't been going out before he'd snogged Lavender. And it's not like Hermione hadn't ever snogged anyone else before.
Ron told as much to Harry one evening after Hermione had failed to surface for one of their prefects rounds. And when Hermione did not appear on the following evening, Ron repeated his argument again. Harry never said a word in reply, and Ron got the impression that his friend didn't quite buy his side of the matter. Only Lavender was willing to listen to his censure of Hermione.
"She's so cold all the time," he told Lavender as they were cuddling on the armchair closest to the common room's fireplace. They were in the middle of a heavy snog session.
"Who?" she asked.
"Hermione," he said. "You can't even tell a joke when she's around. And she's always bossing me around, telling me what to do. She thinks she's better than me."
Lavender nodded sympathetically, stroking his head with her manicured nails. "I sensed that from first year," she said. "I thought it would get very tiresome after a while."
"Yeah," said Ron, not feeling as convinced about Hermione's bad qualities when Lavender was enumerating them. "Yeah, it is."
Lavender leaned in for another kiss, but Ron had more to rant about. "I mean, she doesn't really think she's better than me, but she always has to talk like she is. She always has to tell me to do my homework or pay attention. Don't do this, don't do that. Harry never does that."
Lavender sighed, patiently. "Oh, I would never do that. Your life is your life, after all."
Ron's heart constricted just thinking about Hermione, even though he was imagining that she was bossing him around. He didn't want to admit it to himself that he missed her. He couldn't say convincingly anymore that he was angry with her about Krum. What he felt now was more like hurt that she wouldn't speak to him.
"Ron?" asked Lavender, poking him. "Ron?"
Lavender brought him out of his troubled thoughts. For this, Ron rewarded his girlfriend with a smile and kept right on talking. "Why can't she just admit she's wrong once in a while? A little tenderness is all I'm asking for. We're friends, aren't we? She never bosses Harry like she bosses me."
As the words were leaving his mouth, Ron realized they were false. He could think of a hundred instances where Hermione bossed Harry around just as much as she bossed Ron. Hermione bossed everybody, noted Ron bitterly; although, she could be kind as well. Ron was currently experiencing how horrific classes could be now that Hermione had withdrawn her tutelage.
A silence fell between Lavender and him, of which Lavender took advantage by trying to draw him into another public snog. As usually happened when Lavender tried this, Harry and Hermione chose that moment to walk in through the portrait. Immediately, Ron jerked his head away from Lavender.
Hermione didn't see them at first because she was telling Harry something about "asking someone," which meant she was talking about one of Slughorn's stupid parties. Feeling irritated, Ron burrowed tighter into Lavender's body and waited to be noticed. But when he was, it was without any satisfaction whatsoever that he watched Hermione flee to the safety of the girls' dormitory.
Harry said a few words before fleeing himself. Once Harry had gone, Ron felt Lavender kissing his neck. Eventually, he gave in and lowered his head so he could kiss her lips, but no matter how pleasant it felt, his heart wasn't in it. His heart had run up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.
"You're such a good kisser, Won-Won," purred Lavender when he broke away.
Ron wasn't sure what to make of this odd nickname embedded into the nicest compliment anyone had ever given him, but he let it go unquestioned, all the while hoping this leniency would not be the biggest mistake of his young life.
-----
As it turned out, allowing Lavender to call him 'Won-Won' was not the biggest mistake of his young life. No, Ron realized as he sat at the dinner table the night of Slughorn's party; his biggest mistake was not telling Hermione what an imperious, bossy, self-righteous cow she was. Going out with Cormac McLaggen! Women really were as fickle as the misogynists said.
Ron shoveled his stew into his mouth and chewed like he was trying to squeeze it into water. Truly he had no appetite. After weeks of feeling semi-content with Lavender, he was right back where he started in Fourth Year when he'd first begun to have nightmares about Hermione kissing boys that were not him.
"I like really good Quidditch players," he mocked her in his head. "I can't have Ron, so I'll have Cormac McLaggen. He's not even on the team and he didn't save all those goals without the Felix Felicis, but I like him better because I'm trying to make Ron jealous. Look at me, I have twenty million O.W.L.S. And my eyes are really pretty, so there!"
"Won-Won, why the sour puss face?" asked Lavender beside him.
He shrugged her off with a sheepish grin, but when she'd gone back to gossiping with Parvati, Ron let the smile melt from his face. Hermione was going out with McLaggen. She was probably only doing it to make him jealous, but then again maybe she did like McLaggen. Or maybe she would force herself to like McLaggen. Ron ached with a tangible misery as he wondered whether he had missed his chance with Hermione entirely. He wanted to crawl into a ditch and never return, and all the Lavenders in the world could not help him now.
It was funny how the more he tried to hate Hermione, the more he found to love about her; whereas the more he tried to like Lavender, the less appealing she became. The perfume he had once found so appealing now made him want to run whenever he smelled it from around the corner. Her exotic eyes now appeared to him exactly as they were: peevish little ovals with layers and layers of thick black liner circling them and gooping into the corners.
Ron missed Hermione's gentle touch on his arm whenever she congratulated him on getting the right answer in class. It wasn't often that it happened, but he missed it.
Ron missed her smile first thing in the morning and their ritual of passing the pumpkin juice pitcher so he could pour it while she buttered her toast.
He missed her telling him to do his homework. He'd forgotten to finish his essay for Charms because he'd been up too late with Lavender.
He missed the way she complimented him and Harry in a conversation.
He missed how she came out to greet them after a Quidditch match, ecstatic that they'd won even though she didn't understand the sport and had no idea the strategy involved.
He missed her saying his name. He missed her saying hello. He missed her sitting beside him not saying anything. He missed her sitting beside him and talking till his ears dropped off…
As Ron pictured the days to come—in which Lavender called him Won-Won and Cormac McLaggen savaged Hermione behind tapestries (and Hermione would be savaged if any of the rumors about Cormac McLaggen were true)—Ron realized that in no plausible future, where all of this was true, were Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger friends. It suddenly hit him that Hermione wasn't going to apologize. Hermione was never going achieve some miraculous revelation and come running back to him. She wasn't even going to meet him half way. What Ron was beginning to understand was that it was he, who must act first if something were to change. If Ron wanted Hermione, he would have to go to her.
It was then that he knew he and Lavender were finished. Ron looked at her and Parvati, gossiping away about Hermione, and swore that he would never gossip about Hermione again. If only he could figure out a nice way to ditch Lavender, Ron Weasley would once again become a free agent. Determination seized him, and Ron abruptly stood from the table. "I'm going to go back to the Tower," he said, inspired by his newfound freedom. "I'm getting tired."
Just as he was about to depart, however, Lavender grabbed him by the arm and said, "Will you give me another minute, Sweetie? I haven't quite finished my pudding." Then she looked at him so sincerely that Ron thought her eyelids would fall off from batting too hard.
Ron recoiled, but for lack of knowing how to escape, gave her a pathetic, "Ok." Without knowing what had happened, he found him sitting down. He wasn't exactly sure why he had obeyed, but Ron had a nagging suspicion that if he left Lavender with Parvati they would start making up all sorts of gossip about him and spread it around the table like the pox.
When they retired to the Tower, Lavender latched onto Ron's arm. Ron carefully extricated himself from her grasp, and was shocked when this caused Lavender to cry.
"What's wrong, Won-Won?" she asked.
"Er…" he muttered, unsure whether to begin with "Won-Won" or her eye goop. He opted not to speak at all. From that moment on Ron began to worry that if Lavender ever sensed that he would rather be elsewhere than with her, she would break into tears. In order to break free, Ron would have to bide his time, pick the perfect moment. Then he would ditch Lavender.
-----
Ditching Lavender was no easier in the morning than it had been the night before. The 'perfect moment' Ron wanted so desperately never arrived. Worse, as the holiday loomed near, Lavender became clingier than ever, something Ron hadn't realized was possible. She insisted on savoring their every moment together so she could embed it in her memory and "dream about Won-Won every single night of the month until his Lavender can come back and snog him senseless in person."
"Oh," he'd said in reply to that particular comment. "That's very nice of you."
Then she'd grabbed his face in her hands and smothered it with kisses. Ron would be willing to admit that the attention wasn't always horrible, but he did feel it was getting to the breaking point. If he didn't break it off soon, Ron was sure he'd hear an ultimatum as Lavender forced him to choose between her and Harry.
Ron sensed that Harry too had grown wary of Lavender, avoiding Ron whenever she was nearby. However, he couldn't be certain. Lavender was very demanding, after all, and it might be that Harry wasn't avoiding him at all. It might be that Lavender was hogging Ron so much that he was the one actually avoiding his friend.
Ron's suspicions were confirmed the morning of his and Harry's departure from Hogwarts for the Christmas holiday. Ron had given Lavender a chaste peck on the check and promised to write before starting off toward Harry, who was talking to Hermione. He was anxious to leave without creating a scene in front of the teachers overseeing the holiday exodus, but most importantly he wanted to say something kind to Hermione. Maybe wish her a Happy Christmas before she left.
He didn't get within ten feet before Lavender caught up to him.
"Oh Ron!" she cried, burying her face in his shirt. All Ron could think was, at least she didn't say Won-Won. Lavender stood up on her toes to kiss him. She couldn't quite reach, and was just sort of balancing there like a poodle begging for food, so that Ron decided it would be too silly not to lean down like he was obviously supposed to do. It would be a really cruel thing to do before the holiday if he just stomped off and left her on her tip toes, flopping for something to support her.
One more kiss for old times' sake, he told himself, and then he would definitely ditch her after the holiday.
So he complied, reluctantly allowing Lavender to hold him down like a wrestler for several minutes. When Ron resurfaced, he saw Harry tapping his foot and pretending to look at the time. Hermione was no where to be seen.
Ron realized he'd missed his chance to patch things up with Hermione before the holidays. In fact, he had made matters worse by kissing Lavender right in front of her. Silently, he cursed, wondering why it was so much easier to be polite to the girl he snogged than it was to be polite to the girl he loved…er…fancied.
-----
The holidays proved uneventful. No one they knew died, Ginny didn't murder Fleur, and Lupin seemed well apart from his characteristic melancholy. Fred and George's business was still doing excellently, and best of all, Harry didn't receive any presents from the Dursleys.
The most distressing news came in the form of the usual Hogwarts intrigue. Before the holiday, Harry had apparently overheard a conversation between Snape and Malfoy about an Unbreakable Vow and a mysterious plot. This development worried Ron more than he let on; but he was worried less about Snape and more about Harry, whose hero complex had unfortunately outlived Sirius.
Ron thought that Harry had picked up a great deal more patience from the tragedy, but he knew that wouldn't stop Harry from running off the moment he spied a new crusade against the Dark Lord. And since Ron knew he would be joining Harry on whatever mission Harry undertook, he sincerely hoped his friend would not do anything dangerous this year. Ron preferred not to have another encounter with mortal peril if he could possibly help it. Then again, thinking about mortal peril was a refreshing change from moping about girls. Ron liked not thinking about girls so much that he decided he might make it a hobby.
It was pleasant simply to enjoy the company of his family. One evening Harry, Ginny and Ron used Kreacher's maggots to go ice fishing by the pond. Fred and George joined them, which resulted in a maggot-throwing war. Afterwards, Ron watched Ginny pick the maggots off of Harry's clothes and wondered whether something might be going on between them. However, this was headed toward the world of romance, and Ron was determined to avoid that for the remainder of the holiday.
He didn't even extend his thoughts to Hermione more than twice or possibly ten times; although when he did remember her, his feelings were still keen and strong. Lavender, on the other hand, was all but forgotten apart from her hideous necklace. Ron had been about to chuck it in the rubbish bin when Harry reminded him that Lavender might require him to wear it. Ron had grimaced. However, after finding out that Hermione was not going out with McLaggen, Ron was in such a good mood that who was to say he wouldn't have worn a similar piece of jewelry if Hermione were the one to send it?
-----
The end of the holidays meant Ron would have to enact his plan to ditch Lavender in earnest. However, just as before the holiday, Ron still had difficultly finding "the perfect moment" in which to do it. Lavender often talked so much that he couldn't get a word in edgewise. When she was quiet, she usually looked so vulnerable that it would have been too brutal on her to break it off then. However, there were also times when the perfect moment might have arrived had Ron not been thinking that he could tolerate Lavender for a few more months. These times occurred once in a while when Lavender was being silent, but more often than not on days when Ron had seen and been ignored by Hermione.
However, Ron did manage to cut back on their snog sessions so that they only occurred whenever Lavender tackled him in a place where he couldn't escape from her. By mid January, however, it was becoming easier and easier to concoct excuses not to snog. By the end of the month, Ron had a stroke of genius and told Lavender he'd come down with a contagious disease, which got him out of kissing her for a full week.
Once in a while, Ron attempted to woo Hermione back into their former friendship, but with no success whatsoever. He seemed to be in limbo. His attempts to win her back were as half-hearted as his attempts to officially ditch Lavender. He badly wanted to reach both objectives, but they were inexorably bound together. In order to accomplish one, it seemed he would have to accomplish the other; and Ron didn't know where to begin.
First of all, whenever he tried to approach Hermione, Lavender popped out of nowhere like one of those Muggle jack-in-the-box thingums. For example, Lavender had jumped him when he'd first arrived back at Hogwarts, so he missed Hermione greeting Harry. She'd jumped him again before he'd signed up for Apparition lessons beside Hermione. She jumped him every night before he went down to dinner, which caused Hermione to sit as far from him as possible.
Second, if Ron tried to talk to Lavender about maybe not seeing each other anymore, Hermione would inevitably appear and stomp off, destroying his resolve.
Ron had thought about disappearing from Gryffindor until Lavender forgot about him, but he didn't think that Harry wouldn't allow him to borrow his Invisibility Cloak. Instead, Ron had to find his own ways of getting away from Lavender. He was getting quite deft at it. To his surprise, all he had to say was, "I'll catch you later," or "I'm going to go talk to Harry." Even so, Ron was certain Lavender was beginning to notice that he was avoiding her. She'd asked several times whether or not he was wearing her "My Sweetheart" necklace, and had once broken into tears when he answered "no."
His avoidance only made her more persistent, which led Ron to see that he might have to say something unpleasant to her in the near future. This made him uncomfortable. It wasn't that he didn't like Lavender; it was simply that he didn't like her enough.
Ron used his prefect duties as a frequent excuse to extricate himself from her clutches during the evenings, but this meant that he often ended up doing two rounds more than what was required so Lavender would give up on him and go to bed. Hermione never surfaced during these rounds, and Ron was unsure of whether she was shirking her duties (unlikely) or doing a spectacular job of avoiding him (almost certain).
Hermione was so good at avoiding him that Ron considered asking her for lessons on how to avoid Lavender, but unfortunately Hermione was too difficult to find. Thus it was a perfect surprise when one day after Potions Ron stepped outside of class to discover that he was alone in the hall with Hermione. She was not paying attention, which explained how he had ended up alone with her in the hall, but was mumbling something under her breath that sounded like, "Bezoar…any idiot…stupid book."
"Hi, Hermione," he said, interrupting her.
Startled, Hermione's head shot up. For half a second her eyes were void of malice, but once she processed who had addressed her, her mouth turned up into a smirk.
"Hey, Won-Won, lost your pet poodle?" she chortled, pretending to search the corridor for Lavender. The iciness of the encounter reminded Ron of his many skirmishes with Malfoy, but this time Ron let the abuse roll off his back with a shrug.
"Listen, Hermione, can't you come off it?" he said, extending the metaphorical olive branch.
Hermione took his branch and stomped on it. In fact, after witnessing the fury radiating off her entire being, Ron might have said she was trying to chop down the whole olive tree. Hermione shook her head and emitted a disbelieving scoff. "Come off it? Me?" she said. "Grow up, Ronald Weasley!"
Ron watched her storm down the corridor, crestfallen. He didn't know what he could say to make her like him again.
-----
February was a dreary affair, full of essay writing and endless assigned reading. Ron and Harry may not have needed to worry over their O.W.L.S this year, but Snape and McGonagall provided double the pressure. Both professors were twice as sadistic as before with the length of their assignments, which meant that their pupils spent much of their days in study. To Ron's chagrin, Harry had developed ambition over the summer and was beginning to pour over his books almost as much as Hermione. Ron saw less and less of his friend. In addition, Harry preferred to study in quiet, without the distraction of people snogging nearby, meaning he generally avoided Ron and Lavender in favor of studying with Hermione during the evenings.
Apparition lessons began, and none too soon. Ron was looking forward to a summer of freedom to go wherever he chose, without having to worry about dirty Floo Powder or broom maintenance. No one had any success during the first lesson. A few people wound up flat on their backs and Susan Bones temporarily lost her leg. Ron swore that he had felt the spell flowing through him at least once when his feet had started tingling. He was so certain of himself that even Hermione's suggestion that he'd put his trainers on wrong didn't bother him. And, he noted with some satisfaction, that despite Hermione's ridicule, she hadn't been successful Apparating either.
By the end of the month, Ron was feeling claustrophobic within the castle. He eagerly awaited the forthcoming trip to Hogsmeade, which fell on his birthday. However, before the event could take place, Ron learned that the trip had been cancelled. The news was met with shared antagonism from all four houses, but to Ron especially it was a kick in the pants. It seemed all that was left to look forward to on his birthday was quality time with Lavender and one more botched Apparition lesson.
Fortunately, he was not disappointed in his presents. On the morning of his birthday, Ron awoke to find that the house elves had piled his gifts at the foot of his bed. Most of it was candy, but there were also more substantial treasures. Among them were new Keeper gloves, courtesy of Harry, to replace his old ones from which the traction was rubbing off. Even nicer was a gold pocket watch from his parents, specially wrapped by his mother in sentimental, flowery paper that smelled so much like the Burrow that for a moment Ron felt homesick.
He showed the watch off to a preoccupied Harry, who was busy fiddling with the Mauraders' Map. Harry looked up to give his word of approval and then looked down again.
Not offended, Ron replaced the watch in its box and on the floor so he could reach for another present. In doing so, he saw that a box of unopened Chocolate Cauldrons had fallen from his bed. Ron swept it up in one hand, checking it for a card. He shrugged when he couldn't find one, figuring they were from Harry, or that perhaps Hermione had sent him an anonymous gift out of guilt. He opened the box hastily and shoved one of the candies into his mouth.
"Want one?" he held the box out to Harry, who barely looked up long enough to spare a, "No thanks."
Ron stuffed a second Cauldron into his mouth before getting out of bed and pulling his clothes on. He clucked his tongue at the sight of Harry pouring over that map in search of Malfoy. Obsessed, he was. "Come on," Ron urged Harry, "if you don't hurry up, you'll have to Apparate on an empty stomach…."
As he pulled on his trousers, Ron's stomach gurgled oddly. "Might make it easier, I suppose…" he trailed off. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, but that was probably from hunger. Ron decided he needed a third Cauldron so he could make it to the breakfast table.
When his stomach growled again, Ron was suddenly overwhelmed by the strangest sensation. It was like he was lying under an oppressive weight that could never be removed. He felt hopeless and depressed. Ron was certain the world was going to end for him that very day unless he spoke to…Romilda Vane.
Wasn't it odd how people could pass each other daily in the hall and never notice one another, and then suddenly see them one day when they weren't even in the room? Ron knew that was exactly what had happened as he thought of Romilda. He had never noticed her until now, but after eating that Cauldron, it dawned on him at last how beautiful her eyes were. Ron was almost fairly certain that her eyes were exactly the same shade as the Chocolate Cauldrons. It was possible he was mistaken, but even so, it wasn't as if he didn't know what she looked like. Ron knew that the white part of her eye was exactly the same shade as vanilla flavored Bertie Bott's Bean.
He had waited his whole life to meet a girl who reminded him of candy, and Romilda Vane was the sweetest thing he'd ever not really noticed. He could stare out the window for eternity, just pondering what she looked like from close up.
"Ron?" called Harry from the world of reality. "Breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry," said Ron as he tried to figure out which part of Romilda looked like a Fizzing Whizbee. He wondered if Harry would know. Ron thought about asking him, but doubted that Harry would understand. Harry hadn't ever been in love. The closest he'd ever come was Cho Chang, and Ron was sure that Cho Chang didn't remind anybody of Chocolate.
"I thought you just said — ?"
Ron reconsidered when he realized that Romilda would probably be at breakfast.
"Well, all right, I'll come down with you, but I don't want to eat."
"You've just eaten half a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, haven't you?"
Yes, he had eaten three beautiful Chocolate Cauldrons, and each and every one reminded him of Romilda. Romilda... Romilda. It rhymed with Vroomhilda and Matilda, all beautiful names that rolled off the tongue like Canary Creams only without the unpleasant aviary aftereffect. Ron never wanted to eat real food again, only sweets.
"It's not that," Ron sighed. "You…you wouldn't understand."
"Fair enough."
Ron watched Harry open the door and panicked. Someone had to know about these feelings he was having, these precious, terrible feelings! "Harry!"
"What?" asked Harry, seeming impatient.
"Harry, I can't stand it!" Ron cried, letting it all go in a rush. He didn't stop to hear Harry's reply. "I can't stop thinking about her!"
"Why does that stop you having breakfast?"
Ron dreaded approaching any table where Romilda was surrounded by all her friends. What if they made fun of him? Would he ever be able to eat chocolate again? What if Lavender showed up and harassed her? Oh, he couldn't bear it if Lavender spread nasty rumors about Romilda. Or what if Romilda heard the rumors about how she was going out with Ron Weasley and realized she hadn't the faintest idea who Ron Weasley was?
"I don't think she knows I exist."
Harry started talking about Lavender, and Ron almost vomited. All he wanted to think about was… "Romilda Vane. I think…Harry, I think I love her."
"okay…Say that again with a straight face," said Harry.
Ron complied without delay, "I love her. Have you seen her hair, it's all black and shiny and silky…" Just like licorice, thought Ron. "…and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her —" Just like chocolate. Her whole body smelled like chocolate…
"This is really funny and everything," said Harry, "but the joke's over, all right? Drop it."
Harry's insensitivity shocked him. Ron had just opened up his heart to him only to have Harry mock his dearest desire. Flying on instinct, Ron darted forward and struck Harry on the ear. Harry recoiled in outrage, pulling out his wand and shouting, "Levicorpus!"
Ron found himself dangling in the air as Harry glared at him, wand at the ready. Ron thrashed around, still trying to reach Harry.
"You insulted her, Harry! You said it was a joke!"
"This is insane!" Harry cried. Ron kept struggling.
Then, for some odd reason, Harry began to question him about the Cauldrons.
"They were a birthday present!" shouted Ron. "I offered you one, didn't I?"
"You just picked them up off the floor, didn't you?"
The blood was beginning to rush to Ron's head, making him sick. "They'd fallen off my bed, all right? Let me go!" he demanded, renewing his attempts to escape. He ignored Harry as he flopped about mid-air, until he heard the name Romilda.
"Romilda? Did you say Romilda? Harry — do you know her? Can you introduce me?"
Ron heartily forgave Harry for his earlier transgression when five minutes later they were marching out the Tower on their quest to find Romilda. To Ron's great joy, Harry had agreed to play matchmaker, which meant Ron was certain to win Romilda's heart. Ron had observed in the past that girls generally were willing to do whatever Harry wanted them to do, which meant Romilda would go out with Ron if Harry made her!
On the way out, they ran into Lavender, but Ron no longer had anything to say to her. He and Harry both left the Tower, barely sparing an explanation for their departure. Ron and Harry continued on without her, but not in the direction of The Great Hall. It appeared that Romilda was not at breakfast, but was studying in Slughorn's office. Upon hearing this, Ron loved her more. He had always admired studious women.
After they reached Slughorn's office, Ron was dismayed to be told that Romilda had not yet arrived. He looked for her anyway, standing on tip toe to see past Slughorn's massive frame. He looked to each side of Slughorn's thick head, but saw no one. Ron wondered if this was another one of those Slug parties to which he was not invited. Judging from Slughorn's state of undress, it looked like a slumber party. Horrified at the idea of Romilda sleeping anywhere near Slughorn, Ron burst through the door and into the study. Unfortunately, he tripped on his way in.
Ron wondered if Romilda would laugh at him like Hermione usually did when he did something stupid. The idea of Romilda mocking him like Hermione was extremely unpleasant. "She didn't see that, did she?"
"She's not here yet," said Harry.
Ron sighed with relief. "That's good. How do I look?"
"Very handsome," said Slughorn, offering him a glass of water. Ron was told it was a nerve tonic to make him more debonair.
"Brilliant!" he exclaimed, drinking it in three gulps. It tasted a bit salty, but was otherwise palatable. Ron waited for it to take effect.
Ron gagged when it did.
Within seconds, the obsessive euphoria of being in love with Romilda Vane dissipated, leaving the reality of being in love with Hermione, which was an experience similar to being awakened from a dream only to be dropped into the ocean, chained to a bag of gold.
Ron was horrified by his own behavior. Had he really punched Harry? What else would he have done had Harry not brought him to Slughorn? Images of him, begging Romilda to speak to him, kissing the floor where her feet had tread came to mind. And as if this were not punishment enough, Ron also felt nauseous from the after effects of the love potion.
Ron didn't even want to think of what Lavender would say when this got around to her. Then, with a groan, Ron remembered that he had already run into Lavender. He had managed to avoid her successfully for days, but now he would have to find her and explain the situation so she wouldn't spread it around Gryffindor Tower that he was in love with Romilda Vane. Ron couldn't let Hermione hear that. Not ever. Because he loved her…
At the moment when Ron was picturing himself worshipping his shrine to Romilda—full of Chocolate Cauldrons and stolen articles of her clothing—as Hermione gave up on him and married McLaggen, Slughorn slapped a glass of meade in front of him and wished him Happy Birthday. Ron took the glass before Slughorn had quite finished his salutations, feeling more grateful to his teacher than he could have ever thought possible. He guzzled it down without thinking, only wishing it might cut his confusion and embarrassment in half.
Instead, he felt like the meade was cutting him from the inside out. What felt like shards of ice stabbed him in his gut. Ron tried to wretch, but he couldn't control his muscles. His legs jerked like they were being yanked by strings. His lungs burned from the inside out, and the air tasted like acid.
It was too swift to be torture. Soon, the room had retreated from Ron, leaving him in a white world of splotches and green lines, where Harry's voice seemed very far away.
