Chapter 42
When Ron finally made it back up to Gryffindor Tower after his practice, he was hot, tired, and hungry enough to eat a Hippogriff. What he really needed however, was a shower. Unfortunately his sister had gotten to the Prefects' Bathroom first, so he had to settle for using the one located in his dorm instead.
Luckily Hermione wasn't in the Common Room when he showed up dripping with sweat and stinking to high heaven. It wasn't until he'd showered and was back in his dorm getting dressed that he realized her absence might not have been such a good thing. Especially when he considered the fact that his other best friend was missing as well.
Of course she went after him, Ron thought, as he hastily threw his school uniform back on. She was bound to do it eventually. It's amazing that she held off as long as she did. Oh well, he sighed to himself, as he sat down on the edge of his bed and retrieved a fresh pair of socks out of the bottom drawer of the small chest of drawers beside his bed. She can't say that you didn't warn her. Still, she's just going to make things worse.
Ron was just about to reach for his trainers, when he noticed that the small wooden box that he'd buried in his sock drawer was no longer hidden.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, as he stooped over and snatched the box out of the drawer. I need to find a better place to hide these, he thought, glancing at the door just to make sure it was still closed, before refocusing his attention on the object in his hand. I can't have anyone else finding them, especially Harry, he thought, as he ran his index finger over the words 'Toujours pur', which were carved in the decorative lid. Just knowing that they belonged to Sirius would set him off and then he'd want to know what they are and why I have them. What a pleasant conversation that would be.
I found them in Sirius' Mum's room when I was looking for a safe place to hide the dirty little sex book Bill gave me, he explained in his head. I knew that Mum wasn't liable to 'decontaminate' that room since Buckbeak is living in it, and I knew you'd never go in there, since he reminds you of Sirius, so it seemed fairly safe. It wasn't like I was rummaging around through the drawers or anything. I just opened the first one I saw and there they were.
Maybe I should have left them there, he reflected, as he opened the lid of the box and stared down at the pair of identical silver pendants pinned to the black velvet lining on the inside of the box, but I think Sirius would understand. In fact, he'd probably get a huge kick out of it, Ron thought, as he reached down and touched one of the intricately wrought Celtic knots. He'd definitely love the irony; one of the Black Family talismans being used to protect a Muggleborn. Even if it wasn't Hermione, he'd be all for it, if for no other reason than because it flies in the face of everything his family believed in.
The question is, can I really do it? I'll have to tell her something. She's not going to just sit there and let me cut our hands without some type of explanation first. Telling her that it is a protection charm wouldn't be a lie, because it will protect her, Ron reasoned. None of those bloody Death Eaters will be able to touch her once I perform the Lànain. I can just leave out the part about what being bonded really means, but if I do that I'm no better than they are. And she will find out eventually, he reminded himself, and when she does... he left off the thought with a shudder. At least Mum will kill me outright when she finds out. And Harry? He'd bloody dig me up and bring me back to life, just so he could kill me again. I have to tell her. Before we take the potion. If I don't, I'll make everything Harry said about me true.
....................
"She's not in there either," Ron muttered to himself, as he left the Library after a through search and made his way down the fourth floor corridor towards to mirror George had told him about in his letter.
He figured that it was a long shot, as Hermione was most likely with Harry and the last place she was going to take him was the secret passageway that she was going to use to brew her secret potion. Still, the hidden chamber was on the same floor as the Library, so he figured he might as well check it out before moving on to other locations. Although truth be told, he had no idea where to look next.
If she's not in there, he reasoned, looking over his shoulder to make sure he was alone, before pointing his wand at the mirror, there isn't much more I can do. Other than wait for her in the Common Room and tell her about it when we're on our Prefect rounds.
"You are in here," Ron said, sounding more than a little surprised when he pushed the mirrored door open and spotted Hermione sitting on the floor of the small chamber all by herself. "I thought you might be with Harry or something," he added, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him.
"In here?" Hermione questioned, looking up from the blanket on which she was sitting.
"Well, neither of you were at dinner, so I thought I'd check the Library on my way back up to the Common Room," Ron explained, stepping up behind her and staring down at the book in her lap. "Only you weren't in there either and since this chamber is just down the hall, I figured I might as well check for you here before I went back up," he continued. "So," he said rather ineptly, "you're obviously not with Harry.
"And you were hoping that I was?" Hermione asked, as she reached into her rucksack and started pulling out the ingredients she was going to need when she started brewing the Coupling Potion.
"Sorta," Ron admitted, as he sat down beside her. "He's not in the Dorm, or the Common Room, or the Great Hall, or even the Library," he said, trying not to sound as concerned as he felt. "At least if you were with him I'd know that he didn't run off or do something stupid."
"The last time I checked Harry was still in the Astronomy Tower," Hermione replied, pulling the Marauder's Map out of her bag and depositing it in Ron's lap, before turning her attention back her book.
"I can't believe you," Ron said, sounding more than a little impressed as he snatched the map up, flipped it open and started searching for the dot labeled 'Harry Potter'. "You actually snuck into our dorm and nicked his map. Why didn't I think of that?" he asked, as he watched the representation of his best friend pace back and forth in the Astronomy Tower.
"I didn't ..." Hermione started to object and then caught herself. "Well, all right, I did," she amended, purposely keeping her eyes on the potion ingredients in front of her, hoping that he wouldn't notice her face flush in the dimly lit room. "But only because he was hiding from us and I wanted to find him. I gave it back as soon as I found him," she added, as if that made it all right. "Only I asked him if I could borrow it again so we could use it on our rounds tonight."
"So you could keep and eye on him, you mean?"
"That too," Hermione admitted. "And because I needed to get some things out of the Student Store cupboard and then get everything down here without being seen."
"So you went after Harry?"
"Yes."
"While I was out on the pitch?"
"Yes."
"And you're not the least bit sorry?"
"Why should I be?" Hermione asked frankly.
"You went behind my back," Ron replied.
"No, I didn't," she argued, her ingredients all but forgotten now. "You knew that I was going to go after him," she continued, as she shifted the book that had been resting in her lap to the ground. "I had to wait until I finished all of my classes and by then you just happened to be out on the pitch."
"Bollocks," he retorted. "Even if you hadn't had Arithmancy today, you still would have waited until I went down to the pitch."
"So," she shot back quickly. "You still knew that I was going to do it, so it wasn't behind your back. Besides," she added, "you're the one that just got done telling me that you hoped I was with him, so I know you aren't upset that I did it."
She's got you there, Ron thought to himself. You're just trying to pick a fight so she'll get angry and storm off, because that way you won't have to tell her about the Lànain.
"And?" he finally asked.
"And what?" Hermione replied.
"What happened?"
"I didn't try and lecture him if that's what you're worried about," she stated quickly. "Yelling at him obviously wasn't going to work and neither was trying to explain, so I just...sat there with him so he'd know that he wasn't alone."
"You just sat there?" Ron asked in disbelief. "And you didn't say anything? The entire time? No way. That's impossible," he teased. "You couldn't just sit there and not say anything. It would drive you mad."
"I've sat with you plenty of times and not said anything."
"Yeah," Ron laughed, "because we were snogging."
"There were other times."
"You mean like when you had your head shoved in a book?"
"Do you want me to give you the silent treatment?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes and giving him a contemptuous look even though she knew he was just playing around. "Is that it?" she asked, pretending to be more offended than she really was. "Keep it up and I'll be only too happy to oblige you."
"No, don't," Ron begged. "If you do that I won't have anyone to talk to."
"It would serve you right."
"You're not really mad at me are you, love?" he asked, as Hermione refocused her attention on her book. "No, you're not," he added with more confidence, when she clucked at him and started comparing the ingredients set out in front of her to the itemized list that proceeded the recipe for the Coupling Potion.
But you will be shortly, Ron thought, as he took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself for what was about to come. Just do it you coward. If you don't, she'll find out on her own and then you'll really be in trouble. Just tell her now and get it over with. You have to do it before she starts the potion, or she'll know that you were hiding it on purpose. DO IT!
"You haven't actually started on that yet, have you?" Ron asked, pointing down at her copy of Most Potente Potions.
"No," Hermione replied, without looking up. "I wanted to make sure that I had everything that I'd need first. I wasn't going to start it until later tonight, when we were on our rounds."
"Um," Ron muttered uncomfortably, "there's something that I... uh... sorta need to tell you first." That certainly got her attention, he thought when Hermione's head snapped up and she locked her questioning eyes on his.
"You've changed your mind?" she said, setting her book aside again and studying him closely.
"No," he replied quickly. "I definitely want to do it. Only...um... you might not want to... once I tell you what I need to tell you."
"Well?" Hermione asked, when Ron didn't say anything else. "Are you going to tell me or not?"
"It's not that easy," he responded, as he stood up, averted his eyes, and began to fidget uncomfortably.
"Why not?" Hermione demanded.
"Because it isn't."
"You know that you can tell me anything," she said, standing up herself and crossing the small space until she was right in front of him. "I know it's going to be... strange being connected all the time. It's only natural you'd be concerned that I'll know everything you're feelings. There are some things we just naturally want to keep private. I understand that. I'll try not to get... jealous or anything when I sense that you're... attracted to other girls. It's a natural response and it doesn't really mean anything so..."
"Bloody Hell!" Ron swore loudly, cutting her off before she had a chance to finish. "I never even thought about that. You're not attracted to anyone else in our year, are you?" he asked in a booming voice. "Who is it?" he demanded, when she didn't reply to his question fast enough. "Seamus? No wait, it'd be someone smart. One of those posh Ravenclaw wankers. Boot? He's a bit of a pretty boy. Or Goldstein? He's a prefect."
"So are you," Hermione reminded him in a sardonic voice.
"Wait," he cried, ignoring her comment completely. "I know who it is. It's that swotty brown-noser, Macmillian. He's totally your type. The haughty head-boy wannabe."
"Ron."
"Just let him try and make a move. I'll bloody kill him. If he thinks he can just..."
"Oh for heaven sakes," Hermione cried, grabbing Ron's tie, yanking him forward, and cutting off the rest of his rant with a rather forceful kiss. "For some reason I don't quite understand at the moment," she whispered, once she had disengaged her lips from his, "I am attracted to very thick redheads with jealous streaks a mile long. The last time I checked, Ernie Macmillian didn't fall into that category," she added, releasing her hold on his tie. "Besides, if I had wanted a haughty head-boy wannabe, I could have set my sights on one of your brothers."
"HERMIONE!" Ron cried in horror. "Don't even joke about things like that. The thought of you and Percy..."
"I was talking about Bill," she replied, sounding somewhat sickened herself.
"BILL!" Ron shrieked. "He's way too old for you."
"Yes, he is," Hermione agreed, realizing she'd made a mistake and that she needed to change the subject before he had a chance to misconstrue what she'd said and convince himself that she was seriously comparing him to his brothers. "And he's not the Weasley I want," she added for good measure. "He just happens to be the one that reminds me the most of you." And I compare them to you, not the other way around, she thought.
"You're the one that I want, Ron," she said, pressing herself against him again and weaving her fingers into his thick red hair. "Not your brothers," she added, dropping her mouth to his neck and giving it a feather light kiss, "or Terry Boot, or Ernie Macmillian, or anyone else. Just you," she said, while looking straight into his deep blue eyes. "It's always been you," she insisted, just before she pulled his head down and reclaimed his lips.
In that split second Ron was lost and everything that he'd wanted to say was forgotten. All that mattered to him now was this. He wanted to loose himself in her kiss; surrender everything and offer himself up to her. She wanted him and in that instant he was hers, completely, and it felt wonderful. It felt right.
This is the way it's supposed to be, he thought, running one hand down her back, grabbing her arse, and pulling her closer as he plunged his tongue between her parted lips and flicked it against hers. This is what I want. This is all I need. As long as I have her, I have everything.
Hermione must have come to a similar conclusion because even as the words formed in Ron's head, she gave them voice.
"I love you," she sighed happily, but her declaration elicited unexpected results. Without warning, Ron abruptly abandoned her mouth, removed his hands from her body, and took a step away from her.
"What is it?" Hermione said, alarmed when she felt him withdraw. "What's wrong?"
"We... um... still need to talk," Ron replied dolefully.
"You want to talk now?" she asked, not only shocked by his unexpected response, but also highly concerned. "We have rounds soon, can't it wait until then?"
"No."
This is not good, Hermione thought, as she unconsciously bit her bottom lip and tried to figure out what to do. She could feel her heart hammering against her chest and it had nothing to do with their heated kiss. Ron needed to tell her something and it was obvious from his behavior that he didn't want to say whatever it was, which scared her. "All right," she agreed, almost before she realized she'd even spoken. The chamber they were standing in suddenly seemed very tight and stuffy. She had an overwhelming feeling that the walls were about to come tumbling down and all she wanted to do was bolt before it could happen, but somehow she forced herself to stand her ground. "What is it?" she asked, as she took a deep breath and tried not to let her concern show.
"Well...er.... you see..."
"Just say it," Hermione said, with the air of someone who wanted to get the worst over with.
"I... I don't know how."
"Just say it," she repeated, her head bent and her eyes locked on the ground.
Ron had always worn his heart on his sleeves. Most of the time his emotions were right out there for everyone to see. She didn't need a Coupling Potion to know what he was feeling; she'd seen the guilt etched across his face. She just didn't understand why it was there. Why would he feel guilty about snogging her unless he was about to end things between them. But that didn't make any sense. He still wanted to take to potion. He'd said so and not five minutes ago and he'd been shouting about Ernie Macmillian. Maybe he just thought they should cool things off a bit until Harry was more comfortable with the idea. Whatever it was, Hermione was now certain that she didn't want to be looking at him when he said it."
"Um... here," Ron said, shoving his hand into one of the inside pockets of his robes, producing an intricately carved wooden box, and shoving it into her hands."What's this?" Hermione asked, glancing at the box briefly before snapping her head up and giving him a questioningly look. "My birthday isn't until next week."
"I know that," he said, reaching down and flipping the lid open to reveal a pair of intricately wrought silver charms.
"They're beautiful," Hermione said softly, as she stared at the pair of Celtic knots, "but you shouldn't have. You can't aff..."
"I didn't buy them," Ron interjected quickly. "I took them from Grimmauld Place."
"You stole my birthday present?" she asked, looking at him reproachfully.
"Those aren't your birthday present," he said somewhat defensively, "but I did nick them. It's not like there are any Blacks left to use them," he added, when she pursed her lips together in disapproval. "If I'd left them there, sooner or later Mum would have found them and when she did, she would have tossed them in the bin just like she did everything else.
"You can't keep these," Hermione said, closing the box and handing it back to Ron. "They aren't yours. You should give them to Tonks. She's related to Sirius. These belong to her."
"Tonks wouldn't touch those things with a ten-foot pole," Ron said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and refusing to reclaim the box.
"Why not?" Hermione asked. "They're just Celtic Shield Knots; a symbol of protection."
"No Hermione, they're not."
"All right," she conceded, after popping the lid open and taking a closer look. "They've been inverted, but other than that, they're the same. Protection charms don't really work you know? It doesn't matter how intricate the knot is, or how many times the lines cross, they're not going to ward off evil."
"These will work," he insisted. "Once we perform the ritual."
"What ritual?" Hermione asked, wrinkling her brow up in confusion. "I've never heard of a protection ritual."
"You see the hearts?" Ron asked, tracing a pattern in the center of one of the knots with his index finger. "Conjoined here in the center? That's the symbol for the Lànain," he said, withdrawing his hand. "These are Lànain talismans."
"The what? Wait a minute. You've mentioned that to me once before. What's the Lànain and why haven't I ever heard of it?"
"It's... um... not exactly something that decent people talk about," Ron admitted, his face and ears flushing significantly. "If Mum knew I was having this discussion with you she'd bloody kill me. I'm only doing it because...well... the Lànain is a bonding ritual and it's similar to what you want to do with that potion."
"Similar how?" Hermione asked, staring at the charms suspiciously. "Are you telling me that those things will bind our souls together?"
"Not our souls, no."
"Then what?" she demanded, her eyes focusing on the intersecting hearts in the center. "Our hearts?"
"The Lànain isn't about love," Ron replied, averting his eyes and picking at one of the buttons on his shirt so he wouldn't have to see her face when he said it. "It's about... er.... well, it's not exactly...um... Oh hell, it's about ownership."
"EXCUSE ME!" Hermione shouted angrily. "Ownership of what?"
"Not what," Ron said uncomfortably. "Who."
"You mean those things... that ritual... it's used to create slaves?" she shrieked, looking down at the box in her hands with disgust before dropping it on the ground.
"No wait," Ron cried, realizing that he'd just made a huge mistake. "This isn't going right."
"Is it or is it not about slavery?" Hermione hissed.
"Not the way you mean. You're getting me all twisted up. Just stop screeching at me for a minute and let me explain, will ya?"
"You've got exactly one minute," she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest, leaning back against the hard stone wall, and glowering at him.
"It's not like I created the ritual, you know?" Ron cried defensively. "You don't see the name Weasley carved on the top of that box, so stop looking at me like that. I'm not trying to turn you into my bloody slave or anything. Besides, this whole bond thing was your idea. I'm just trying to explain what it means."
"What what means?"
"In the Wizarding World when two people create a lasting magical bond, like you're trying to do with that potion," he said, pointing down at her copy of Most Potente Potions, "you ...um...you're sorta... well... mried," he finished, forcing the last word out so quickly that it was all but impossible for her to understand him.
"You're what?"
"Married," Ron repeated with a loud sigh.
"That's absurd," Hermione exclaimed, rolling her eyes at the ceiling.
"I'm dead serious," he cried resentfully. Not only had she dismiss what he'd told her, she had the gall to roll her eyes at him as if he were the one that was the idiot. "As far as anyone in the Wizarding World is concerned, if we drink that potion we will be married."
"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione scoffed. "We're not old enough to get married."
"Yes we are," Ron insisted. "The Lànain is an ancient ritual. It was created by pure-blood fanatics hundreds of years ago to maintain the purity of their bloodline. Girls got married when they were younger back then. As long as you're old enough to produce an heir, it's legal."
"But... no it's not," she said dismissively. "You need witnesses for a marriage to be legal for one thing."
"In the Muggle World maybe."
"Are you telling me that you don't have witnesses at a magical wedding?"
"I'm not talking about a wedding," he snapped. "I'm talking about a binding ceremony. It's not the same thing, Hermione. It's... different. People come to your wedding to help you celebrate your love. They're not there to make it legal. It's the vows that are important; the commitment you make when you promise to share your life with someone else. It doesn't matter if anyone else hears that promise or not. It's the intent behind the vows that matters. But that's not what I'm talking about. The Lànain is different. It has nothing to do with love. It's about maintaining the purity of your bloodline. The Wizards that created it were pure-blood fanatics. They weren't looking for life partners; they were looking for brood mares."
"EXCUSE ME!" Hermione cried resentfully.
"Our kind would have died out if we hadn't started marrying Muggles. Only families like the Malfoys and the Blacks, with their pure-blood mania, didn't see it that way. They view Muggles as a different race; an inferior race, and anyone that didn't believe what they believed was labeled a 'blood-traitor'. But with more and more Wizards marrying Muggles, the ancient bloodlines became 'tainted.' That's their word by the way, not mine. And it got harder and harder for them to find suitable pure-blood wives."
"A lot of pure-blood families had arranged marriages back then, so most of the desirable girls were spoken for almost as soon as they were born. And those that weren't, had families that you had to deal with. What with suitable girls being so hard to come by, you could bet that there were other blokes negotiating with those girls' fathers at the same time you were, so there were no guarantees. In the end, the bloke with the most money was usually the one that got the girl."
"Rather than go through all that hassle and come away with nothing, so sick sod came up with the Lànain instead. Mostly it was used on 'blood-traitor', who were technically suitable, but didn't care about 'maintaining their purity'. Those girls were targeted first, because it was easier for them to justify it. They could claim that they were saving her from and unsuitable marriage and that they were saving the Wizarding Race by keeping the bloodlines pure."
"So someone came up with this nasty little spell and if you saw a girl with the right pedigree, who was unspoken for or about to be given to someone you viewed as inferior, you could just take her; against her will; without her parents permission, and use the Lànain to bind her to you magically. Once the ritual was performed, there wasn't a lot the girl's family could do about it. I mean, they could protest and force the smarmy bugger to release her, but by then the damage was already done. Even if the creep released her from the bond, her reputation was ruined. No one wanted a girl that had been married and divorced back then, even if it had been against her will."
"That was hundreds of years ago," Hermione said, her voice dripping with disgust. "Women aren't viewed as property anymore. We have rights. They can't possibly do something like that now. It can't be legal."
"What do you think Sirius' Mum had these for?" Ron asked, as he bent over and snatched the discarded box up off the ground. "They're not just pretty antique relics. Some of the ancient families still use them. I'd wager that Malfoy's got himself one. His mates too, not that they'll ever find anyone to use them on. The practice has evolved a bit since it was created. I mean, Crabbe and Goyle can't exactly go out and steal girls away from their families anymore. Like you said, women have rights now and the pure-blood maniacs aren't in control of the Ministry. They'd never be able to get away with something like that unless...."
"Unless what?" Hermione asked, despite the fact she knew exactly what he was talking about. Unless Voldemort were in control, she finished in her mind. "That's why you're so protective of Ginny," she said, her eyes going wide as the pieces started to come together in her mind.
"You're damn right it is," Ron growled. "If anyone tries to do something like that to my baby sister, I'll bloody kill him. And I'll have five VERY angry brothers backing me up. I don't care who's in power. Anyone stupid enough to try that is dead. Although knowing Ginny, she's likely to finish the bugger off herself before the rest of us even have a go. She definitely wouldn't go down without a fight, but that's the thing. Not all girls fight it. From what I've heard, some of the old families still perform the Lànain in front of other people as part of a more traditional wedding ceremony."
"No woman in her right mind would willingly submit herself to something so... barbaric?"
"I never said that they were in her right minds," Ron retorted. "I'm talking about girls that have had this rubbish ingrained into them from birth. They've been taught to accept this; to want it. They believe that it's their duty to maintain the purity of their bloodlines. The Lànain is one way to make sure that happens. Once the ritual is performed and the woman is bound to her husband she...er... uh... well, it's basically impossible for her to cheat on him."
"When you perform the ritual, you tie a portion of yourself; a portion of your own magic into your partner," Ron explained. "Once that's been done, it is virtually impossible for her to sleep around. If she were with another man you'd know. Not only that, you'd be able to prevent it. I'm not exactly sure how it works. I think it's sorta like wandless magic. But it does work. If you don't want another bloke to touch your wife, he can't. It's as simple as that."
"Are you telling me that no man will EVER be able to touch her again?"
"No. No, it's not like that. She doesn't have permanent shield that repels men or anything. Other blokes can touch her unless her husband prevents it. It's has to be a conscious decision on his part. He has to use his magic, which is embedded in the charm, to repel them."
"Then a smart woman would take the charm off before she met with her lover."
"She can't. The talisman is charmed. Only the person that put it on can take it off. It's the magic in the talisman that maintains the link between them. If you take it off, the bond is broken and the woman is free. So they went to great lengths to make sure that she couldn't get it off by herself. There are only two ways to get the talisman off once the ritual has been preformed. Her husband can take it off himself," Ron said, holding up one finger, "or you can kill the smarmy bastard, in which case it falls off all on its own," he added, holding up another finger. "Option number two is actually the preferred method used by 'blood traitors' of old. Go figure. It would most definitely be the option I'd choose."
"That's appalling," Hermione snapped, horrified that such a tyrannical and demeaning practice was not only allowed, but still used in the modern world. "Why on earth did you take those things and why are you telling me all this?" she asked, narrowing her eyes and glaring at him warily.
"Well...um.... no wait," Ron said, holding his hands out in front of himself the instant he saw her bristle. "Hear me out first."
"ARE YOU INSANE!!!?"
"We're going to be married anyway," Ron said, unconsciously taking a step away from her. "Just think of it as a protection charm."
Hermione could probably count the number of times that Ron had rendered her speechless on one hand and still have fingers left over, but this was definitely one of those times. Her mind actually went blank for a moment and all she could do was stand there and stare at him, her mouth open in stunned disbelief. The first word to actually pop into her staggered mind was 'what.' It just kept playing over and over and over again in a vicious loop. Finally she realized that it wasn't going to do any good if she kept asking herself that question, so she turned it on Ron. "WHAT!"
"Well we will be," he shot back, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "once we take that potion."
"Ron," she whispered, "your really starting to scare me now. You can't seriously believe that."
"I'm telling you Hermione, as far as anyone in the Wizarding World is concerned, if we drink that potion we WILL be married."
"No. We. Won't."
"Yes, we will."
"We're not old enough."
"In the Muggle World but in the Wizarding World, technically we are. I already told you that. None of that other stuff matters. All that will matters is that we've bound ourselves together magically, by blood, and intent, and er... you know, the uh... sex part."
"Is that so?" she snapped, unwilling to accept what he was telling her. "You show me where it says we'll be married if we drink this potion," she demanded, snatching her copy of Most Potente Potions up of the ground and shoving it under his nose.
"You're not going to find that in your bloody book," Ron shot back. "If it were just this potion," he said, pointing down at the open page, "without the other stuff you're going to add, it wouldn't count. I read your notes remember and we're not talking about a basic Coupling Potion, are we? You'll change the nature of the spell when you add your blood and my... er... well you know what I'm talking about. I'm telling you, that changes everything. This," he said, pointing at her book again, "is a temporary bond. What you are suggesting is more permanent. Not only that, we'll be maintaining it by being... er... you know... intimate. Love... lasting magical bond...intimacy. It might not be legal in the Muggle World, but I am telling you that in ours that is considered a legally binding marriage."
"YOU'VE KNOWN ABOUT THIS FOR A MONTH AND YOU'RE JUST TELLING ME ABOUT IT NOW!"
"When I first read your notes I assumed that you knew," he tried to explain. "I mean you know everything. And when I figured out that you didn't, I realized that I'd have to tell you, but before I could work out how to go about doing it, Mum came bursting in, and we found out about the attacks, and then Harry showed up, and well, you know the rest. The point is, I did tell you."
"Right before I'm about to brew the potion," she reminded him.
"So?" Ron shot back quickly. "There's no reason you can't still brew it. It's only the basic potion, after all. I mean you don't have to add all the other stuff unless you want to. It's not like I'm going to force you or anything," he added, sounding more than a little offended. "I know you need to think about it from like a million different angles before you actually make a decision. I didn't expect you to agree to it right away or anything. And if you decide that you don't want to, that's fine too. We'll just save the basic potion and use it when we need it. It'll wear off, but it's better than nothing right?" he said, dropping his head a bit and staring down at his feet so she wouldn't be able to see the disappointment he was feeling.
"You're serious about this aren't you?" she asked, still taken aback by the entire conversation. "You're actually ok with this? You still want to do it, even if it means we'll be... married."
"Well, yeah," he replied, while shuffling his feet uncomfortably.
"How can you possibly be ok with it?" Hermione demanded.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, managing to sound both irritated and defensive. "Why shouldn't I be?"
"Oh gee, I don't know," Hermione retorted. "How about the fact that we've only been together for a couple months."
"We've been together for six years, Hermione."
"WHAT!" she cried in shock. There's that word again. Can't you think of anything better to say? "No we haven't."
"All right," he conceded, "I suppose first year doesn't really count, but it's still been five. That's way longer than most couples."
"You're mad."
"Mad am I?" Ron asked, hurt by her flippant response. "You're the one that told me that it's always been me, or was that a lie?"
"Of course it wasn't," she assured him. "How can you even ask me that?"
"So when did you... first realize it?"
"I don't know," Hermione answered with a sigh.
"Second year," Ron shot back, "when you were attacked by the Basilisk."
"What?" she asked, looking up at him in surprise.
"I didn't really recognize it for what it was then, but that was when I first knew. Only I didn't know that I knew. Back then I just knew that I'd almost lost you and it hurt. A lot. But when I look back on it now and remember how I felt... it was the same way I felt last year when they lifted that spell off of me in the Department of Mysteries, and saw you, and I thought that you were.... gone. It was the same feeling, only it was worse this time. It was so much worse."
"It was first year," Hermione said in a near whisper, brushing away the tears that had formed in her eyes. "The chess game," she continued, "when you sacrifice yourself. That was the first time I felt it," she admitted. "And when Sirius pulled you into the Shrieking Shack, only I didn't know what it was either. This is crazy, Ron. You know that it is."
"And trying to block the Killing Curse isn't?"
"That's different."
"It doesn't have to be real," Ron sighed, purposely avoiding her eyes, but unable to keep the pain out of his voice. "Not if you don't want it to be. It's not like things will suddenly change between us or anything," he continued, trying to rationalize it to himself as well as her. "We'll just go on as we are now and no one else will ever know. We can just pretend that were not until the war is over and when the threat is gone, we'll just let the bond dissolve, and..."
"And what?" she asked sorrowfully. Why does the thought of doing it and then pretending that we didn't hurt so much? she wondered.
"We'll just take it from there, I guess."
"In other words, we'll end our secret marriage and but continue to date?"
"If it's what you want," Ron said, looking down at his feet again. "It's not like you have to decide now or anything. It'll take a month to brew the potion and if you are still undecided after that, we'll just save it in its basic form. So um...," he said, picking at his robes as he tried to change the subject. "It's almost time for our rounds and I told you that I'd do them by myself, that is if you're still planning on getting started on it tonight. You don't have to, of course. So uh... do you know what you want to do?" he asked. "I mean are you coming with me or staying here?"
"Here," Hermione replied, retrieving the Marauder's Map off the floor and handing it to Ron. "You better take this? That way you can keep an eye out and avoid Filch," she explained when he gave her a puzzled look. "If he sees that I'm not with you it could lead to some awkward questions."
"What about you?" Ron asked, taking the map from her outstretched hand.
"I'll be in here working on the potion," she replied, as if it ought to be obvious.
"No, I mean how are you going to know when it's safe to leave if I have the map?"
"Oh," Hermione said. "Just come back for me in about an hour or so," she replied, settling back down on the blanket in front of her cauldron. "I should be done adding the initial ingredients by then."
"All right," Ron agreed, shoving the box containing the Lànain talismans back into his pocket, before turning around, and moving towards the back of the mirrored door he'd entered through. "Hey," he said in surprise, as he stared down at the map in his hand and did a quick scan of the fourth floor corridors just to make sure no one was outside the chamber he was about to exit. "There are words here," he added, as he watched a minute figure labeled 'Ronald Weasley' tap the backside of the mirror with his wand just before a tiny speech bubble appeared.
"Perlucidulum Specularis," Ron said, pulling out his wand and reading the spell off the map as he mimicked the sketch. "Wicked," he cried, when the backside of the mirror suddenly became transparent and he realized that he could see into the deserted hallway. "That's convenient, isn't it?"
"As long as it's still mirrored on the other side and you didn't turn it into a basic window," Hermione replied, peering at the doorway over her shoulder and scanning the corridor herself.
"What would be the point of that?" Ron asked, glancing down at the map again just to make sure no one was about to walk around the corner or anything, then shoving the mirrored door open, and checking the other side. "Yeah it's still mirrored on this side," he said, as he slipped out into the hallway. "You can see me though, right?"
"Yes," Hermione called back just loud enough for him to hear.
"Good," Ron replied, as he stuck his head back inside the small room she was hiding in. "This way you'll be able to see me when I come back and you can unlock the door. You are going to imperturb the mirror once I'm gone, right?"
"Yes."
"Good," Ron replied. "So I'll see you in about an hour then," he said, pulling his head back before she had a chance to reply and pushing the mirrored door closed.
....................
Author's Notes:
Anyone that wants to see what the actual Lanain talisman looks like can find a pic of it
It's basically a symbol of protection that the ancient Celts used to decorate their warrior's shields with, hence the term... "sheild knot". This symbol was also used on children's clothing to protect them from evil and to protect those who were sick. All I've done is flip it upside down so that the single point is at the top instead of the bottom.