Chapter 56
Unfortunately for Ron, the next day didn't exactly go as he'd expected. In fact, as far as he was concerned, the entire weekend was a tremendous let down. He'd been thrilled when he'd woken up just before dawn on Friday morning and discovered that his new wife was still nestled beside him using his arm as her pillow. She'd spent the entire night in his bed, just as she'd promised, and what a night it had been. They'd made love, not once, but twice before finally succumbing to exhaustion and allowed sleep to come. And once he was awake, Ron had been secretly hoping that Hermione would wake up as well so they could do it again. Unfortunately Hermione didn't seem to be so inclined.
Ron couldn't help but touch her as she slept. It started innocently enough. At first he just wanted to brush the hair away from her face so he could look at her, but somehow he wasn't able to stop there. His hand moved from her cheek to her neck, then down over her collarbone, and the next thing he knew, he was cupping her bare breast and caressing it gently.
But rather than responding as Ron would have liked, Hermione grunted at him and slapped his hand away, before rolling over on her side so her back was facing him. Sure, Ron had been a little disappointed, but he couldn't help but find it slightly amusing as well, if for no other reason than because it was such a Hermione-type move.
Obviously she wasn't a morning person, which he already knew, and he couldn't exactly blame her for being tired. And since he was still fairly knackered himself, rather than push it, Ron simply threw his arm over Hermione's side, pulled her back against him, and closed his eyes.
The day hasn't even really started yet,he reasoned as he allowed himself to drift off once more, and we'll have plenty of opportunities to be alone before it's through. Maybe not before breakfast, but definitely after lunch, and again after classes let out, and we'll have the rest of the night after dinner, and all day tomorrow, and on Sunday too.
That was Ron's plan anyway. He fully expected to spend the entire weekend making love to his wife, even after she put him off when Defense Against the Dark Arts let out and he suggested that they wolf down their lunch and slip off to the secret chamber behind the mirror on the fourth floor until it was time to go to Potions with Harry. But that had been nearly three days ago. He'd suffered through three days with hardly any physical contact whatsoever and it was about to drive him stark raving mad.
Ron understood that she was sore. At least he'd understood the principle somewhat when Hermione finally broke down and confessed her problem after she'd abruptly ended their late night snogging session on Friday. But in his head, Ron made the mistake of likening it to having sore muscles after a strenuous workout and he made the further mistake of treating it as such. Needless to say, when he suggested that she just needed to work through the pain, it didn't go over too well. In fact, she hissed something about him being an insensitive prat before she jumped off the sofa and stomped off in a huff.
The worst part was knowing for a fact that she wasn't pretending. She was genuinely hacked off at him and he didn't understand why. But Ron did recognized her rage for what it was when he felt it pulse into his body. Not only that, he'd somehow managed to both insult her and hurt her feelings at the same time. The pain that gripped his heart once she'd abandoned the common room was almost as intense as her anger. In fact, Ron was fairly certain that the reason she was focusing so hard on being annoyed with him was because she wanted to use her anger to mask the other things she was feeling.
He felt terrible, even though he had no idea what 'insensitive' thing he'd done. He certainly never meant to hurt her feelings. And even though he knew that Hermione could feel how sorry he was, her anger didn't abate all that much and in a way he was thankful for that. It was easier to deal with her fury than it was to handle the sorrow lurking behind it, especially when he knew that he was the cause. He tried not to think about it as he dragged himself up to bed, but he knew that she was on the verge of tears. He knew it because his own eyes were stinging, and that knowledge made him feel even worse. But all he could do was lie in his bed and think, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, over and over again until he fell asleep and hope that it would be enough.
He knew that it hadn't been the next morning when he followed Harry down to the common room and discovered Hermione sitting beside his sister on the same sofa the two of them had occupied the night before. She wouldn't even look at him. She simply said hello to Harry and informed them that she'd already eaten with Ginny, before hiding her face behind her Transfiguration book.
"What did you do?" Harry leaned forward and asked Ron, who had a pained expression on his own face.
"No idea," Ron sighed, shaking his head sadly as he allowed his best friend to guide him towards the portrait hole. "All I know for sure is that it has something to do with me being an insensitive prat."
"What else is new?" Harry tried to joke, having heard Hermione fling that particular insult at Ron so many times over the years that it had all but lost it's meaning. "Still, it's not like that should surprise her."
"Yeah, well," Ron replied miserably. "Maybe she'll tell you what's really bugging her."
"Doubt it," Harry said, as they ambled towards to the Great Hall. "I don't think she's really comfortable discussing the more personal side of your relationship with me. I think she might be worried about putting me in a position where I'll have to choose sides or something. But I can ask Ginny for you if you want. She obviously knows," he said with a slight smile.
"Notice the death glare did you?" Ron groaned, referring to the cold look his sister had been giving him.
"Kind of hard to miss, mate," Harry said sympathetically.
"The worst thing about Ginny is, you never know when she's going to back it up or let it go," Ron said with a sigh.
"So you want me to find out for you?"
"Naw," Ron replied, after giving it some thought. "You know Hermione. Sooner to later she'll get over whatever it is long enough to lecture me about it. I don't reckon I need to hear it from Ginny too."
Unfortunately dressing-down Ron was exactly what Ginny had in mind, so when Hermione went down to the Library, to work on her Transfiguration essay, or more precisely to avoid Ron, Ginny stayed behind. She lay in wait in the common room and the instant the boys stepped through the portrait hole, she pounced on her brother.
"OW!" Ron yelped, when his sister slammed him in the shoulder, before fisting his shirt in her hand, and literally dragged him away from Harry and back into the hallway he'd just come from. "What the hell is the matter with you?" he asked, rubbing his shoulder after she let go.
"ME!" Ginny shrieked. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she shot back, placing both of her hands on Ron's chest and shoving him against the wall. "How could you do something so... so... Oh for Merlin sakes Ron, what IS the matter with you? She's your...your wife," Ginny said, dropping her voice to a dead whisper, because the Fat Lady was obviously trying to eavesdrop from her portrait, "not your personal play park."
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, his confusion giving way to irritation.
"She's a person with feelings and needs of her own. You can't just have a ride anytime you want one," Ginny snapped, the crassness of her statement causing her brother's mouth to fall open. "Work through the pain?" she said in an exasperated voice as Ron continued to gape at her in horror. "Honestly! I'll show you bloody pain you randy tosser. You better get your arse down to the library and apologize to her right now."
"For what?" Ron asked defensively.
"For making her feel like a piece of bloody meat."
"What?" Ron exclaimed in surprise, just before his stomach plummeted. Surely she doesn't think... I didn't...but... "But I never..."
"Oh yes, you did," Ginny hissed, glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "You totally disregarded what she told you. All you were thinking about was... you're such a pig," she snapped. "I don't think I like what this," she said, jabbing her finger into his chest just above the spot the Lànain talisman was resting, "is turning you into. I've got half a mind to tell Mum, despite the fact I promised Hermione that I wouldn't. But I can still tell Bill," she threatened. "And I will if you don't stop acting like some smarmy Slytherin bastard who thinks he can own someone else and use them anyway he wants."
"I do NOT treat Hermione like that," Ron retorted indignantly, despite the fact that deep down he was worried that maybe he had and he just hadn't realize it. But the more he played their last conversation over in his head, the more it didn't add up. They were snogging. She was fine. He was caressing her over her clothes. Still fine, and enjoying it as much as he was, he might add. It wasn't until he tried to touch her under her clothing that she became embarrassed and told him that she was sore as she pushed him away.
But what was the big deal? It wasn't like he'd ignored what she said. It wasn't as if he hadn't stopped when she'd asked him too. He did. Obviously telling Hermione to work through the pain hadn't been the response she'd wanted to hear, but it was what you did when you had sore muscles. You didn't just stop using them. It was the same thing he told her after she'd escaped from the Death Eaters and complained about the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse. Although in hindsight, he now realized that it hadn't gone over too well then either.
Still, it was no reason for her to flip out or for her to get her feelings all bent out of shape. But she had. Not only did he hurt her, he insulted her too. He'd felt it after she left. Did Hermione really think that he treated her like a piece of meat, or had his sister just taken something that Hermione had told her and blown it out of proportion? Ginny had been opposed to the whole Lànain idea from the start. Maybe she was just using this as an excuse to tattle on him and get her own way. Ron knew from experience that she wasn't beyond doing that. And she had the nerve to accuse him of acting like a Slytherin.
"Fine," he shouted at his sister. "I'll apologize. But not because you told me to," he added. "Or because you threatened me. But if she really thinks that, then she took what I said the wrong way, as did you," he said resentfully, before shoving his sister out of the way and marching back to the common room to look for Harry so he could tell him more or less what was going on.
BREAKBREAK
"You look pretty good," Harry said, when Ron stomped over the threshold and slammed the portrait closed behind him. "No bats attached to your face that I can see. I'll admit I was a little worried that might be the outcome when she dragged you off."
"Not worried enough to come help."
"You apparently did ok on your own," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, I figured you got yourself into that mess, it wouldn't be right if I shared your punishment."
"Coward," Ron said with a slight smile. "You'll take on dragons or an entire forest full of gigantic spiders, and yet you're afraid of a little girl."
"She's not so little anymore," Harry replied with a chuckle, "and you're afraid of her too."
"Bloody girls. They're all mental," Ron complained, as he flopped down in the chair opposite his best friend. "Mum, Ginny, Hermione. All mental and scary as hell. Have you noticed that?" he asked. "They don't make any sense. You never know what's going to set them off and once they wig out, there's no predicting what they'll do. We've got wands too, plus we're bigger than they are, so why is it that it's so easy for them to intimidate us?"
"Hormone imbalance?" Harry offered, causing Ron to burst out laughing.
"Oh yeah. I'd love to hear you say that with Ginny within earshot. She'd bloody well eviscerate you."
"Thus proving your point," Harry chuckled. "Girls are vicious. Sure they look all sweet and innocent, but they don't fight like blokes. What?" he asked, when Ron's expression unexpectedly became sober and he flopped against the back of his chair again with a sigh.
"I have to go down to the Library and apologize to Hermione for something I didn't even do," Ron said, having felt her respond to the agitation he was unwittingly broadcasting through their link, before remembering that she was angry with him, and pushing her concern for him aside.
"If you didn't do it why apologize for it?" Harry asked, not really needing to know what 'it' was to understand how unfair that was.
"Because it's like I said," Ron replied. "Girls are mental. And if I want her to talk to me again, I'm going to have to apologize."
"For something you didn't do?"
"Yup."
"That doesn't make sense," Harry said, his brow creasing ever so slightly.
"And girls do?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes.
"You've got a point there," Harry admitted as Ron took a deep breath and stood up. "Apparently you understand them better than I do," he added.
"What's to understand?" Ron sighed. "As long as they're always right and you admit to being wrong, even when you're not, they're happy."
"And you have to keep her happy if you want to have anymore nights like Thursday, eh?"
"Now you're catching on," Ron said. "Well, I best go get it over with."
"We have Quidditch practice at two," Harry reminded his friend as he started to walk away. "You might want to set the alarm on your watch," he added with a smirk. "You know, just in case you get distracted by all the making up and lose track of the time."
"Shut up," Ron groaned, his ears flooding with color as he ducked out of the room.
BREAKBREAK
As Ron expected, the Library was all but deserted when he entered it. No one in their right mind came down here first thing on a Saturday morning. Most of the student population wisely used Saturdays to lie in and recoup from a week of strenuous classes and tedious homework. Of course no one ever said that Hermione was in her right mind when it came to schoolwork. The Library was one of her favorite places and she preferred it in the morning, when she could have it all to herself. She usually chose one of the tables in the back, near the windows, so she could feel the warmth of the sun on her back as she thumbed through the ancient texts. And that was exactly where Ron found her.
Typical Hermione, he thought with a slight smile, noticing that she had books and random sheets of parchment spread over three-quarters of the table already. But the smile died on his lips when she glanced up, saw him standing there, rolled her eyes at him, then refocusing her attention on the book she was reading.
He knew that she wasn't happy to see him. His heart hadn't leapt into his throat when she looked at him the was it normally did when she saw him. If anything, he felt as if someone had reached into his chest and constricted it. That was how seeing him made her feel. It hurt. He made her heart ache, and that knowledge made his own ache in return.
"Hermione?" he said sorrowfully, walking over to the table she was working at and sitting down beside her, despite the fact he knew full well that she wanted to be left alone.
But rather than speak to him, she pulled the book she was pretending to read off the table, dropped it to her lap, and shifted in her chair so he'd have no choice but to talk to her back.
"Don't," he said, somewhat irritated by her reaction. He'd come all the way down to the Library, on a Saturday, to apologize to her, for something that he hadn't even really done, and she was still going to ignore him. But then he decided to change tactics.
If she didn't want to talk to him, that was fine. He didn't need her to listen to his apology.
He didn't even have to say anything. She might be able to tune out his words if she really set her mind to it, but she couldn't block his feelings. At least he didn't think she could, so rather than speak, Ron pushed down the irritation he'd been feeling and focused instead on how miserable and helpless she made him feel when she ignored him like this.
"That's not fair," Hermione said quietly, when Ron felt her resolve soften, threw his arms around her and hugged her from behind.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his chin now resting on her shoulder as he leaned into her and thought about how much he regretted hurting her.
"I know," Hermione admitted with a sigh.
"I didn't meant to upset you," he whispered, focusing all his energy on how much she meant to him.
"I know," she said again weakly, tears trickling down her cheeks when she felt the intensity of Ron's love surge into her. "I love you too," she said, transmitting her affection for him back in return.
"And I know that you aren't my personal play park."
"What?" she asked, momentarily puzzled by his bizarre statement.
I knew it, Ron thought when he felt her confusion. Damn you Ginny!
"Your what?" she asked again, further puzzled by the fact he now felt mislead.
"It's just something Ginny said," Ron replied.
"You mean you only came down here because your sister told you too?" Hermione asked, feeling indignant once more.
"What?" Ron cried, pulling away from her when he felt her mood shift and he realized how close he was to losing the ground he just made up. "No. I mean she did practically assault me as soon as Harry and I came back from breakfast," he admitted, as Hermione spun around in her chair to face him, "but I would have come after you on my own." Eventually, he added in his mind. "She did tell me where you were though."
"And she told you why I was upset?"
"Um... She told me that I made you feel like a piece of meat," Ron finally confessed. "But that's not really true, is it?" he asked, his heart thumping against his chest far faster than it should have been. Please say it isn't, he thought miserably. "Hermione?" he asked, when she diverted her eyes. Bloody hell! "That's not true," he exclaimed, unable to keep himself from feeling somewhat insulted. "You know I don't think that," he continued, unsure if the shame he was experiencing was his or hers.
"I know," Hermione admitted, looking up when she realized Ron felt affronted by her lack of faith in him. "But it's still how you were acting," she snapped back. She was the one that had truly been insulted after all. "How dare you tell me to work through the pain just because you wanted a shag."
"That's not why I said it," Ron barked back indignantly. "I was trying to help."
"Yeah, help yourself," Hermione retorted scathingly, narrowing her eyes at him as she did so.
"No, I was trying to help you," he said, his voice now so loud, it would have drawn the attention of the librarian, had she been there. "Because that's what you do when you have sore muscles. You keep working them out. If I stopped playing Quidditch just because I was sore from practice, I'd never play in a real match. But I work through the pain, like you're supposed to do, and after I'm warmed up and I'm preoccupied with the game, I don't even notice it anymore."
"We're not talking about Quidditch," Hermione said crossly.
"The same bloody principle applies."
"Does it?" Hermione snapped. "Really? And you know this how? Let me guess, Bill told you. Well once again, he's wrong. It's more than sore muscles, you idiot. It's like... like when you have a really bad sunburn and your skins all raw and inflamed. You don't want people touching it, or poking at it, or rubbing up against it because it hurts. And it's not the kind of pain you can ignore or work though. It's the kind you avoid, just like you avoid the sun until you've healed, because if you don't, you'll only make it worse."
"Well why didn't you just say that?"
"You didn't give me a chance. I told you that I was sore. That should have been enough," she stated, too irritated with him to feel much embarrassment this time around. "I obviously stopped you for a reason. What was I supposed to do? Tell you that your finger felt like a knife poised to rip me open? That it was all I could do to keep myself from crying out when you touched me there? I didn't want to hurt your feelings."
"So you let me hurt you're instead? That makes a lot of sense."
"It's embarrassing," Hermione groaned, as she realized exactly how explicit she'd just been.
"Ok," Ron said, his ears taking on the same color as Hermione's face. "I can see where it would be a little embarrassing, but... well, at least I know what you're talking about now. So ... um... exactly how long do you think we'll be avoiding the sun?" he asked, hoping that it would sound like he was being supportive if he said we instead of you.
"Oh my god!" Hermione groaned, when she felt desire stir within him even as he prepared to count down the days. "Is that all you ever think about?"
"No," Ron replied matter-of-factly, going to great lengths to stomp his barely formed arousal down. "I think about Quidditch. I think about chess when Harry and I are playing. When I'm hungry, I think about what I want to eat."
"And when do you think about your schoolwork?" Hermione said, shaking her head sorrowfully.
"When you tell me to," Ron replied, with a lopsided smile, hoping that she'd appreciate his answer enough to give him a small smile of her own.
"In that case I think you ought to appreciate it for the next week or so."
"A WEEK!" Ron cried in horror, all thoughts of being supportive forgotten. "As in seven full days and night? Aww come on Hermione," he whined unhappily. "You can't seriously expect me to go that long without..." he started, barely catching himself before he said the words 'another shag' and landed himself in a whole lot of hot water, "...without touching you," he finished instead. "I understand that you need some time," he said, "but come on. Don't you think that's a little... extreme? he finished in his head, snapping his mouth shut when she glared at him and he felt her irritation start to give way to something closer to genuine anger. He was hugging the line and he now knew it, so he wisely shut up.
"I could make it two if you prefer," she stated.
"Now you're just being mean on purpose," he grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest and flopping against the back of his chair to pout about the injustice of it all. Besides, you can't," Ron said, suddenly feeling much better as a new thought occurred to him. "Because if we wait that long the potion will wear off."
HA! Take that, he thought, feeling both proud of himself for finding a loophole and a bit triumphant.
"Twelve days then," she amended, threatening to push it to the limit without so much as batting an eyelash.
"I don't think you can go that long," Ron challenged, sensing that she wasn't really all that annoyed with him anymore, which meant she most likely didn't mean what she was saying.
"I can certainly go longer than you can," Hermione countered, unable to hide the fact that she was mildly amused and grudgingly impressed by the how quickly he'd figured out that she might be bluffing a bit. "You can count on that," she said, meeting his challenge with one of her own.
"Barely," Ron chuckled, not falling for it. This wasn't a contest of wills. There was more involved than simply seeing who could outlast the other. They were connected now and that changed everything. "Unless you're saying that you were wrong," he added with a smirk, "and we don't actually feed off each other once we get...worked up. Too bad we do," he said rather smugly, "because that means you can only hold out as long as I can."
"So you admit that you're the weak link?" she asked. "That you'll cave before I do and drag me down with you? That's not necessarily true though," Hermione stated before Ron could come up with an answer. "If your urges get too annoying I can simply stun you, because once you lose consciousness I don't have to put up with you're feelings anymore."
"Ok, you win," Ron laughed softly, knowing that she was bluffing again, but taking her point. "But can you slip me a sleeping draught instead?" he asked good-humoredly. "At least that way I'll be able to dream about you."
"As if you'd be thick enough to take anything I offered you in a situation like that," she joked back. "Then again..."
"Hey!" Ron whined. "So..." he said, testing the waters before Hermione could refocused her attention on her books. "I suppose you're planning on working on this," whatever it is, "all day long?"
"As opposed to..." she asked warily.
Ok, definitely not that receptive, Ron thought regretfully, realizing that it might not be such a good idea to bring up the secret chamber behind the mirror again just yet. Especially if he wanted to come across as being supportive of her newly imposed ban on shagging. Although snogging doesn't necessarily have to lead to... no, best just not even go there or you'll likely set her off again.
"Er...Harry and I have Quidditch practice this afternoon," Ron replied, "But I don't suppose you really want to come to that," he added, unable to hide the fact that he was almost as disheartened by that knowledge as he was by the knowledge that Hermione wouldn't be sneaking into his room again anytime soon.
"Maybe for a little while," she said, looking up from her book just in time to see him smile.
"Really?" Ron asked, feeling a flicker of excitement and twinge of nervousness.
"But if it's really cold, I coming back in," she informed him.
"That's ok," Ron said happily. He'd just have to make sure that he brought a blanket along when they went down to the pitch. The point was she said she'd go and since she hadn't gone to a single practice during all the years Harry was on the team by himself, everyone would know that she was there to watch him. "Ok, I'll get out of your hair then," he said, his heart far lighter than it had been when he first entered the Library. "Let you get some work done," he added as he smiled at her. "Practice is at two, so I'll meet you in the common room about 1:30? How's that sound?"
"Fine," Hermione said, smiling up at him because he was so pleased and because his good mood was infectious. "Now go," she said, waving him away, before he could distract her any more than he already had.
BREAKBREAK
"You two really need to buck down and practice every spare moment you can this week," Katie Bell said, as she followed Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke out of the Gryffindor changing room. "You think I'm joking?" she asked, paying no notice whatsoever to Hermione Granger or Terry Boot, both of whom were standing beside the doorway together, having cut off their conversation when the Quidditch captain emerged to lecture her beaters. "We have our first match against Slytherin next week and it's your responsibility to make sure that you're capable of protecting the rest of your teammates. It's not your heads they'll be trying to knock off, you know? It's Harry's."
"Yes, we know," Andrew reply, glancing around as if he were tempted to make a run for it now that he was out in the open. "You've only told us 15 times during the past two hours."
"Just make sure you're down here an hour early tomorrow," she insisted. "You too," she added, pointing at Jack. "In fact, I want you two down here an hour early every night this week. No, I'm not kidding," she said, when she saw the look on Andrew's face.
"So you're having another practice tomorrow?" Hermione asked, although she didn't really know why she should find that so surprising. Now that the Quidditch season had officially started, all of the teams would be scheduling weekly practices, but as the first match of the year was between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, they got top priority when it came to using the pitch this week. "And on Monday?" Hermione asked. "Because you know ..."
"Yes, yes," Katie said with a sigh, cutting Hermione off. "Ron and Ginny have a Prefect meeting at seven. Ron already told me. Not that he's getting out of practice, mind you," she added, turning away from her beaters, who took one look at each other and used the distraction Hermione had created to bolt. "They'll just have to be a bit late. I'm sure McGonagall will overlook it."
Professor McGonagall might, but she was a big fan of Quidditch. Hermione wasn't.
"How late?" she demanded, fully prepared to demand that Katie let her friends off early if her answer was unreasonable.
"Oh no," Harry groaned, as he and Ron emerged from the changing room, having showered and changed back into their regular clothes. "She sure didn't waste any time telling Hermione, did she?" he asked Ron, who was looking at Terry Boot, rather than the two girls who appeared to be about square off.
"Don't worry about it, love," Ron said, shifting his broom to his left hand as he swept forward, placed his right hand on Hermione's waist, and leaned forward to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "I'll be there," he whispered before he pulled back.
"Wow," Ginny said, emerging just in time to witness something she never thought she'd see, her brother initiating a public display of affection. Shocking? Yes, but at the same time it was rather sweet.
But apparently Hermione didn't agree, because she turned her scowl from Katie to Ron.
"Here, I'll take that for you," Ron said, snatching the blanket Hermione had been holding before she had a chance to object, tucking it under his arm, then reaching down and taking her hand in his.
"What's the matter with her?" Ginny whispered to Harry, when she saw Hermione's eyes narrow even further.
"I'm not sure," Harry replied, unconsciously stepping back a bit. "But I'd say it's more than the practice schedule."
"I'm surprised to see you down here, Boot."
Aw, Ginny and Harry thought at nearly the same time, realizing that the green-eyed monster had reared his ugly head
"Ron," Hermione all but growled out his name in warning, her smoldering brown eyes boring into him.
"What?" he asked, as if he didn't have the slightest idea what she was so irritated about. "It's not like I accused him of spying on the Gryffindor team or anything."
Then again, he just had, only he'd done it in a round about way.
"I can't believe you," she hissed, jerking her hand out of his and taking a step back.
How dare he? The instant he found her talking to another guy he got all possessive, stepped up, and claimed her as his like some dog marking his territory. And when the kiss and the hand holding hadn't been enough to dishearten his competition to the point that he slunk off with his tail between his legs, Ron began slinging around thinly veiled insults.
"What?" the redhead asked again, feeling her fury but not really caring.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, not to Ron, but to Terry. "Just ignore him."
"Excuse me!" Ron cried, his own anger surging through his veins now. NOT! BLOODY! LIKELY!
"Oh shut up already," Hermione snapped back, causing several eyebrows to raise.
"Er... maybe I ought to just go," Terry offered.
"Yeah, maybe you should," Ron fired back, causing Harry to actually groan out loud.
So much for a calm, peaceful weekend, he thought, glancing at Ginny, who was standing beside him shaking her head at her brother's stupidity.
"Er... ok," Terry said uncomfortably, as he backed away. "I'll...er... see you tomorrow then?" he said quickly to Hermione. "Right," he mumbled, slipping around the side of the changing room before anyone could say anything else to him.
"Well?" Ron demanded, dropping the blanket and thrusting his broom back at Harry, before folding his arms in front of his chest and glowering down at Hermione. "Are you planning on telling me what the hell that was all about?"
"What's the matter with you?" Hermione retorted.
"ME?" Ron barked. "I'm not the one making dates with other people."
"You are such a moron," Hermione cried, throwing her hands up into the air as she spun around and stomped off.
"Do you believe that?" Ron said, after several moments of strained silence in which everyone just stood there staring at him.
"That you're a moron?" his sister finally replied. "Absolutely," she said in disgust, pushing past him and chasing after Hermione.
"At least this time you get to apologize for something you actually did do."
"Shut up, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, as he retrieved his broom, picked the blanket up and the two of them followed the girls back to the castle at a much slower pace. "What the hell is she doing with Boot anyway?" he grumbled to himself.
"Ok, I'll admit it looked pretty bad," Harry said, "but I'm sure it's not an... actual date or anything like that. Maybe he just wanted some help on his homework or something," he ventured, despite the fact that Terry Boot had managed to get remarkably good marks all on his own up to this point. But at least it was a plausible excuse, and it was closer to the mark than either of them knew.
It wasn't until after dinner that Ginny finally gave in and told her brother's best friend that Professor Vector had given Hermione's class some rather complicated Arithmancy problems to work out by Thursday's lesson and that Terry was actually Hermione's assigned partner. Harry of course told Ron, as Ginny knew he would, and he urged her brother to apologize, yet again. But Hermione was far more reluctant to accept his apology this time around.
In fact, it wasn't until Ron reminded her about how she'd reacted to Lavender that she finally relented. It was rather hard to condemn him for being a jealous prat after that. Ron hadn't sent Terry soaring across the Quidditch Pitch, without the benefit of a broom, after all. She couldn't very well criticize him for being jealous when she was just as bad in her own way. Of course the difference was, Lavender really had been chasing after him, unlike Terry. Plus, she'd caught him staring down another girls shirt. A fact which Ron conveniently forgot to mention, nor did he enjoy being reminded of it if the guilt and embarrassment he experienced after Hermione brought it up was any indication. But to his credit, Ron didn't try and argue that point or explain it away.
"So really," Hermione said quietly, as the two of them sat side by side at one of the tables near the portrait hole 'calmly discussing' the matter so as not to traumatize the younger students who were littered around all over the common room. "I could spend all day tomorrow staring at Terry's bum and at best we'd be even. Of course you know I wouldn't do that," she said, when Ron's mouth fell open. "And even if I did, all it would prove is that I don't fancy him. Which you know full well," she added, "since you can sense my feelings."
"Yeah, yeah, all right," Ron said, already having been subjected to the portion of the lecture where she asked him if she was attracted to Boot and then basically forced him to admit that the only time he'd felt any type of arousal from her was when she was sitting in the stands watching him guard the rings. But just because she wasn't interested in Boot, didn't mean he wasn't interested in her. And up until this point, Ron had always thought of Terry Boot as a fairly decent bloke.
Then again, he silently reminded himself. He is friends with that tosser Michael Corner and I never did like him. Guilt by association and all that.
"You do trust me don't you?" Hermione asked.
"Of course I do," Ron replied without even needing to think about it. "It's him I don't trust."
"We'll be in the Library, surrounded by other students," she said, as if that made the slightest bit of difference.
"So?" Ron said obstinately. That wouldn't stop me.
"What am I going to do with you?" she said in exasperation.
"I can think of a couple things," Ron replied with a lopsided smile. "But you won't be able to do any of them until sometime next week," he said glumly.
"Ron!"
"What? It's the truth."
"You're pathetic."
"Yes, you've already told me that," he said blithely. "The difference is, this time you don't really mean it."
"Stop reading me," Hermione said softly.
"Stop broadcasting it then," Ron replied, with another smile.
"It's your fault."
"Nuh uh," Ron disagreed with a chuckle. "You're the one that responded to the idea of me having randy thoughts about you," he said, making sure to keep his voice down. "And then you called me pathetic because you were receptive to the idea. I'd say that's a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't you?"
"Shut up," Hermione moaned, her face flooding with color even as she picked up on how amused Ron was and tried not to smile herself. "And don't think about things like that right now," she said, forcing herself to put his suggestion and the images it lead to out of her mind. "All that's going to do is make it harder on both of us."
BREAKBREAK
How right she was. The more Ron tried not to think about it, the harder it became to put the forbidden thoughts out of his mind. It might not have been so bad if he could have convinced Hermione to slip out of the common room for an impromptu snog, but she would have none of that and went up to her room instead.
Playing chess with Harry helped Ron clear his mind for a while, but once they turned in themselves and he was alone, in his bed, with the curtains drawn, the thoughts returned. And the worst part was, he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't banish them from his mind, nor could he take the matter in hand and alleviate the tension without Hermione knowing precisely what he was doing. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he had to contend with the his concerns about what would happen if he gave in and did it anyway.
To begin with, it would be embarrassing. And there was the possibility that it might offend her, or even worse, hack her off again. Hermione hadn't expressly forbidden him from doing it, or even asked him not to, but her discomfort was his fault and as
such he felt obligated to suffer right along with her. If he gave in to temptation it would just prove that he was a slave to his hormones. And even that he might be able to live with. What really held him in check was the comments Hermione had made after the first time she'd felt him 'abusing himself' through their connection.
I considered doing it back, he heard her voice speak in his head. After you were finished. Just to see if you could feel me as well. But then I decided against it. It wasn't nearly as satisfying and it seemed rather cruel to get you all worked up and then leave you wanting.
"Cruel indeed," he mumbled to himself.
How was he supposed to enjoy it when he knew that he'd work her up and then leave her in a state where she had no means of finding relief. The release he'd experience apparently wasn't strong enough to trigger one of her own and she couldn't take care of herself right now because she was too tender. How guilty would he feel, waking up from a deep, restful sleep, knowing that Hermione spent the better part of the night tossing and turning in her own bed due to the unrelenting frustration he'd caused.
Looks like I'm going to have to get used to taking cold showers again, he moaned in his head, throwing the covers off himself and climbing out of bed.
BREAKBREAK
Unfortunately Sunday was even worse than Saturday, albeit for different reasons. To begin with Ron hadn't slept very well, which meant he started out the day cranky, and it didn't help that Hermione seemed to be on edge as well. They managed to bicker their way through most of breakfast, about what even Ron wasn't quite sure.
By the time she went to the Library to work on her Arithmancy homework with 'her partner', Ron was in a foul mood. Sulking in the common room wasn't exactly the way he wanted to spend his afternoon, nor did he want to actually work on his own homework and sneaking down to the library to check up on Hermione was out of the question. In the end, Ron and Harry went up to the Astronomy tower and spied on the Slytherin teams practice until Madam Hooch came out on the pitch with Katie Bell and forced them to leave so the Gryffindor captain could get to work with her beaters. Assuming that was their cue to get their own behinds down to the Pitch, the boys mounted their brooms, having had the foresight to bring them along, and flew down to the field.
By the time their own practice let out, Ron's stomach wasn't the only thing growling. He was itching for a fight and couldn't resist snapping at everyone he came in contact with hoping that someone would take the bait. Unfortunately Ginny didn't come back up to the common room after practice and Harry didn't enjoy a good row, so he had no choice but to sit there and wait for Hermione to come back from the Library.
The longer he sat there waiting, the more steamed he became. Not just because she was still gone, but because it gave him time to reflect on his abysmal performance at today's practice. He'd played like shite because he was distracted and no matter how hard he tried to put everything else out of his mind and pull himself back into the game he just couldn't seem to do it. If anything he got progressively worse, which only added to his frustration.
The day just flat out sucked and he wanted it to be over.
"Where the hell is she?" Ron said to no one in particular as he glanced down at his watch to check the time yet again. "Surely she must be hungry by now," he grumbled, having refused to go down to dinner himself until Hermione showed up.
She's probably already eaten and gone back to the Library, Harry thought, but given his best mates current mood, he decided to keep the comment to himself. Maybe I should just go down on my own and eat with Ginny. Or I can go down to the Library and tell Hermione to get back up here so Ron can get something to eat and stop biting the head off of anyone that says two words to him.
"Well, I'm going down," Harry said as he rose up out of his chair. "You sure you don't want to come?"
"No," Ron barked, his arms now crossed in front of his chest as he tried to bore a hole in the back of the Fat Lady's portrait with his eyes.
"Suit yourself," Harry replied, making a mental note to bring some food back up for Ron just in case, as he shrugged his shoulders and marched out of the room, leaving his best mate alone to brood in silence.
BREAKBREAK
Author's Notes:
I'm sure this chapter was not at all what some of you were expecting it to be, but no one ever said that being connected to someone else full time was going to be a walk in the park. In fact, Moste Potente Potions clearly stated that the experience could be "overwhelming" and "disruptive to ordinary life events." (See chapter 21) From your reviews and the comments in the PoL thread on the forum I gather that a lot of people seemed to have overlooked the warning (Just like Ron and Hermione did) and focused primarily on the positive, fun aspects of the bond, as opposed to the potential problems it might create. Sorry to disappoint those of you that wanted more fluffy goodness, but there is definitely going to have to be a period of adjustment. And it's not as if our favorite couple needs an excuse to break into a fight, although I did give them a couple. But mostly their arguments were the result of the bond in one way or another. You just have to look at them closely to figure out how it all ties together.
Special thanks to MissBrooke06 for pointing out the growing/ growling typo. I never would have caught that. And thanks to spikescrypt, who is 100 right in pointing out that Ron and Ginny might not know what an amusement park is. I don't know if Wizards have their own version. I suppose it's possible, (anything is possible with magic) but I changed it to 'play park' instead, because Muggle or not, I'm sure they've been to or seen those.
I should also add a note about the Ginny issue. Some of you have left reviews stating that you don't like how she reacted in this chapter (for various reasons). Please keep in mind that she is only 15 and teenagers (especially girls) quite often act as go betweens for one another when they have a problem with someone else. It is also VERY important to remember where Ginny's head is with the whole Lanain (marriage) thing. Remember, this is a truly vile practice in which teenage girls (Such as herself, being that she is a pureblood) were/ can be taken against their will and forced into a marriage they can't get out of. A marriage that is often consummated/ sealed through an act of rape soon after. That IS NOT what Ron and Hermione did in any way, shape, or form, but the sordid history of the ritual and Ginny's preconceived notions about it are MOST DEFINITELY skewing her perception of her brother a bit at the moment. She knows (in her heart) that Ron is a decent guy and would never purposely do something to harm someone else (especially Hermione) but when she saw him get possessive (as Ron does) and become insensitive about sexual matters, she jumped to the worst possible conclusion (i.e. that her fears about her brother might have some basis) and confronted him of the issue. Not just for Hermione's sake, although she was looking out for her friend's best interest, as well as her brother's, but for her own peace of mind as well.
That being said, I've started my pesky jury duty. BOOOO! So I'm afraid this may be the last chapter for a while. They're still picking the jury actually. It's going to take several days to do that, as it is a Grand Jury case, but it's not looking good for me (or you). The estimated length of the trial is 7 weeks. EEEEKKKK! Cross your fingers and hope I get booted off. (Unfortunately they tend to love teachers for some reason.)