Chapter 17: Victories and Defeats
"Bjorn," Hermione rose quickly to her feet when the Bulgarian turned to walk angrily away. "Please wait." Her eyes pleaded with him when he turned back to look at her. "I didn't want to hurt you like this."
"Hermione," Bjorn shook his head with disbelief. "What did you think would happen when you told me you didn't have feelings for me anymore? Did you think I was going to be thrilled with the idea?"
"No. Of course not."
"Well…what is there left to say then?"
"I don't know." She shook her head despondently. "I just…I'm really, really sorry, Bjorn."
"Yes, but that doesn't really change anything does it." He snapped. Bjorn almost regretted his words when he saw the pained look on Hermione's face, but he pushed it aside. She was the one who broke up with him after all. "I have to go."
"Bjorn!" Hermione took hold of his arm to stop him from leaving the study room. "We have to talk about this."
Bjorn wrapped his fingers around hers and gently pried them free of his arm. "There's nothing left to talk about."
Hermione watched sadly as the blond haired boy walked from the room without looking back at her, head bowed, shoulders hunched up around his ears. She knew she had to do it but she couldn't help but feel immense guilt. It wasn't his fault after all, it was hers. She sank dejectedly onto the nearest chair. Everything was her fault.
Despite her immense guilt, however, she couldn't help but feel a sense of acute relief. She realized now that she had been wondering around completely lost for five months and the admittance of her feelings and the acceptance of her guilt in the matter acted as a grounder. She had direction now. She knew what she had to do it. And now it was time to decide on a course of action. She had to tell Ron how she felt and she had to do it as soon as possible.
It took Ester two hours after talking with Hermione to find Bjorn. He was sitting alone in one of the spare class rooms on the fourth floor, arms crossed on the desk, head buried in the crook of his arm. When she first arrived she thought he might be sleeping but when she took a step into the room one of the floor boards squeaked loudly underfoot causing him to jump with surprise.
He rubbed his eyes with his hands trying to relieve some of the soreness that lingered there. "What are you doing here?" He asked grumpily when he realized who it was.
"I thought you might need someone to talk to." Ester stepped further into the room.
"You thought wrong." He said numbly. "Just leave me alone."
Ester tilted her head to the side and her eyes scrunched slightly in concentration.
"Stop that." He growled through his clenched teeth. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "I hate it when you do that."
Ester's head snapped up with surprise. "What?"
"I hate it when you try and read me like that."
Ester took a seat on the bench beside him. "I'm only trying to help." She said meekly.
Bjorn's hand slapped down on the solid surface with a loud thud. "Like you tried to help last night?"
Ester sighed heavily. "I'm sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted, I really am. But she's not the one for you, Bjorn, and I couldn't consciously advocate for you when I knew in the end it would only cause more pain. It's my duty..."
"Gods," Bjorn shoved his chair back angrily, toppling it over behind him as he rose to his feet. "You think you know everything don't you?" He whirled around to face her, his hurt and resentment manifesting itself in the form of anger. "You're always handing out your pearls of wisdom. Telling us what you think we need to know. Helping guide us down our true paths. But do you want to know what you're problem is? You focus too much on the path and ignore all the finer points like emotions and feelings. Maybe Hermione and I aren't meant to be together. I don't know. What I do know is that I liked her and I asked you as a friend to help me."
"I don't know about emotions and feelings?" Ester's voice cracked with outraged tears. "You don't know what you're talking about. I am forced to push my feelings aside all the time because of my gift. It's not as easy as you seem to think it is."
"Well screw your gift then." He roared. "And screw what you think is your calling."
Ester bound to her feet. "I can't do that." She articulated every word heavily. "You know that."
"Yeah I know." He let his eyes wonder over her a brief moment before turning away, shaking his head. "You're calling always comes first."
"Bjorn," Ester reached out a hand and gently laid it on his arm only to have him pull angrily away. "I came here to talk to you. To make you feel better."
"You're doing a fantastic job of it, really. Keep going."
Ester's fists clenched at her side. "Fine. If you're going to be like this I'm going to leave. It's not my fault, you know." Ester turned to go but stopped and turned back with another thought. "And you shouldn't be angry at Hermione either. She's only doing what she thinks is right." She turned and marched towards the door, calling back over her shoulder. "When you've decided you've had enough with being a moody ass, come and find us. You know where we'll be."
Ron was watching the Huffelpuff chaser work her way steadily down the pitch, swerving to the right to dodge the bluddger Jack Sloper sent soaring her way. She recovered quickly and was once again speeding down the pitch towards the Gryffindor hoops. Ron watched eyes narrowed as she swerved to the left and sent the quaffle rapidly towards the far goal post. He practically dove of his broom lunging for it but thankfully caught it at the very tip of his fingers a split second before it passed through the hoop. Smirking to himself he tossed the scarlet ball to Ginny who tore off down the pitch at full speed as Ron righted himself.
When the qualffle was safely on the other end of the pitch Ron took a chance to glance at Harry who was soaring high overhead, the Hufflepuff chaser tailing him closely. The Gryffindor team had a commanding lead. Ron had only missed one save the entire game and that was due to the fact that he had been blindsided by a bluddger seconds before one of the Hufflepuff chasers had thrown the ball at the rings.
The score was currently Gryffindor 190, Hufflepuff 10. Make that 200 as Ginny had just made a brilliant play flying full speed at the other keeper and pulling her broom to a sudden halt just short of colliding with him. Ginny took advantage of the keeper's stunned terror and chucked the ball through the hoop right over his shoulder.
There was an uproar of cheers from the scarlet clad section of the stands issuing so loudly it was almost defining. Ron let out his own whoop of praise as the quaffle was retrieved and play was resumed. So intent was he on following the bright ball that it took the sound of utter pandemonium from the crowd for him to notice that Harry had gone into a steep downward dive, the Hufflepuff following futilely behind, as his Cleansweep was no match for Harry's speed and agility on top his Firebolt.
The snitch was hovering just above the ground, fluttering back and forth in a random pattern. Harry took on a sudden burst of speed and before Ron realized was happening, he was closing his fist around the small golden ball. He pulled up with a sudden jerk and held his right hand up in the air, the Snitch's silver wings fluttering between his fingers, sunlight bouncing off them.
The stands burst into a riot of cheers as Gryffindor's supporters began flooding the field. Their victory today almost guaranteed Gryffindor the Quidditch Cup and Ron and Harry's housemates were ready to celebrate.
Lavender Brown had been one of the first fans on the field and had been at Ron's side almost as soon as he touched ground. Moving quickly she slipped her arm through his and tugged him off to Gryffindor Tower where some students, pre-empting a Gryffindor triumph, had already decorated it for a victory party.
Red and gold streamers hung from the ceiling and off the back of the furniture. Two tables in the corner were groaning with their load of sweets and butterbeer, ready for student consumption. Music blared from an enchanted stereo suspended high above the crowd and Colin Creevy was already flitting about snapping pictures of people as they came into the common room.
As soon as they reached Gryffindor Tower Lavender had forced Ron into a sofa in the corner where the light wasn't the best. Ron sighed as he felt Lavender's hand settle on his thigh. She was obviously feeling bold tonight.
When Harry reached the common room the party was well under way. He made a quick scan of the room and spotted Ginny sitting in front of the fire, surrounded by her fellow fifth years, and Ron tucked away in a dark corner with Lavender. He shook his head sadly. He didn't understand that at all. How Ron could stand Lavender's incessant prattle was beyond him. She was nice enough of course, but was rather frivolous and vain in his opinion. An opinion Ron had seemed to share until quite recently. If Harry knew his friend at all, which of course he did, his taste geared toward more sensible girls. If something was going on between Ron and Lavender, which Harry doubted there was, Ron would have told him otherwise, it wouldn't last very long.
Harry turned away from the sight of his friend and moved towards the boy's dormitory steps. He was feeling hot and sweaty and entirely uncomfortable in his Quidditch robes and decided that his first order of business was taking a hot shower, followed by a change into clean robes, and then joining the rest of his housemates in their revelry.
Twenty minutes later Harry was towelling his hair dry as he came back into his dorm. He chose a pair of grey trousers and a forest green jumper to wear to the party and was just pulling on his robes when he noticed a soft glow from his bedside table. It was the mirror.
Harry pulled on his robes before he settled on the mattress, taking the mirror in hand. He tapped it with his wand and the white glow melted into a view of Hermione's room. She was sitting at the foot of her bed a book open in her lap, a finger wrapping a curl around in lazy circles. She took the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and Harry had to smile at the familiar image of his friend.
"Hermione!" Harry called out gently, not wanting to startle her.
Hermione looked up and towards the mirror. "Finally." She exclaimed tossing the book carelessly aside. She threw her legs over the side of her bed and hurried towards her desk where her mirror was propped up. "I've been waiting over two hours for you."
"Sorry." He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "We had a match today, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff."
Hermione smiled cheekily. "Should I even ask how the game went?"
Harry grinned proudly back. "Slaughtered them. 350 to 10.
"350 to 10!" Hermione gasped unbelievingly. "But how?"
"Well, Ginny herself scored about half of our twenty goals. And I caught the snitch."
"But Ron only let one goal in?" Hermione prompted eagerly.
Harry's eyes widened with surprise. "Yeah. And he wouldn't even have let that one in if he hadn't been hit by a bluddger seconds before the chaser threw the quaffle."
"Wait! Ron got hit by a bluddger?" Hermione's eyes widened with concern. "Is he alright?"
Harry leaned back against the headboard. "That's the second time you've asked about Ron in under a minute." He stared at her disbelieving. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Harry." Hermione growled with ill humour. "Now tell me, is he alright?" She asked insistently.
"He's fine. He's downstairs at the party right now." Harry watched with curiosity as Hermione's face relaxed before his eyes.
"Harry," Hermione asked after several seconds with her head bowed. "I was wondering if I could possibly speak to Ron?"
Harry stiffened tensely, his eyes narrowing with apprehension. "What for?"
Hermione's cheeks tinted pink. "Please Harry. I need to talk to him now. I want… No, I need to make things right between us. Could I please talk to him?" She pleaded.
Harry seemed to contemplate the idea for several minutes before nodding his head, albeit reluctantly. "I guess. But don't be surprised if he doesn't want to talk to you."
Hermione nodded that she understood before Harry rose to his feet letting his hand holding the mirror drop down to his side, not bothering to tap it and remove the image while he walked, even though Hermione had scolded him on several occasions for doing just that.
Feeling slightly nauseated from having watched Harry's decent from his dorm to the common room, the image in the mirror turned upside down and bouncing from side to side as he walked, Hermione had to cover her eyes until she heard the muffled sound of the joyful festivities. The noise was so immense that when it came through the mirror it filled her room with deafening force.
Harry turned in a slow circle as he tried to remember where he had last seen his red headed friend. There, he spotted him, sitting in the corner with Lavender Brown. Harry began nudging his way though the crowd towards them using his hands to wedge his way through the masses.
Through the mirror Hermione saw a flash of bright copper hair as Harry moved the mirror to make a pathway for himself and her heart leapt to her throat, a strange mixture of joy and dread chocking her of her breath. The mirror shifted again and she had a clear view of him.
For a painful moment her heart stilled in her chest as she watched Lavender Brown inch her hand up his thigh. Ron snatched it up quickly, taking a firm hold of it in his. Hermione couldn't hear what was being said but Lavender seemed extremely happy and seemed to cry out, "Oh Ron!" as she threw her arms around his neck. Hermione watched, heart twisting painfully in her chest as Lavender leaned into Ron's tall fit body and kissed him passionately on the lips.
The mirror shifted again and she lost sight of them and so did not see the way that after a moment of shock Ron dug his fingers under Lavender's arms and pried them from around his neck, and flung them away.
"What do you think you're doing?" He bound to his feet, glaring angrily down at her as he rubbed viciously at his mouth. "What are you? A a…scarlet woman? You don't just jump on a bloke like that."
Lavender started up at him in startled surprise.
"Um… Ron?" Hermione broke out of her despaired daze as she heard Harry call tentatively to his friend over the sound of the crowd. Ron spun away from Lavender and towards Harry, eyes still blazing. "What? I'm busy?"
Harry held up the mirror awkwardly. "Hermione wants to talk to you."
Ron snatched the pane of glass quickly from his friend's hands "What?" He asked moodily.
Hermione gapped at him uselessly as tears leaked noiselessly from her eyes.
"What do you want?" He roared, whirling around when Lavender placed a hand on the small of his back.
"Nothing." Hermione squeaked before fumbling to tap the mirror with the tip of her wand ending their connection.
Ron who had been looking daggers at Lavender turned back to the mirror at the sound of Hermione's voice only to see her image fade from the glass. "Hermione?" He called shaking the pane as if her image would reappear if he did so. "Hermione!" He bellowed but the glass stayed stubbornly blank and bright. "Harry?" Ron turned back to his friend "What was that about?"
Harry took the mirror back and tapped it with his wand. "That was Hermione calling because she wanted to talk and mend things between you two."
Ron stared stunned at Harry for a minute before he spun around on his heal to glare at Lavender, his eyes blazing a fierce shade of blue. Lavender stumbled back in initial surprise. "Thank you so much, Lavender. You've been an immense help."
"What did I do?" she cried defensively, finding her wits finally and planting her hands on her hips in what she thought was a commanding pose.
"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Did it ever occur to you that I may not be interested in you like that?"
Lavender jutted out her chin in defiance. "Then exactly who are you interested in like that then?" She demanded.
"That's really none of your business is it?" He said scowling at her.
Lavender's nose scrunched tight as she stared at him. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. A look of pure comprehension took over her face a split second before she whistled low. "She really did a number on you didn't she?"
"I don't know what you mean." Ron objected stubbornly.
"Granger!" Lavender cried shrilly.
"What has Hermione to do with you being a scarlet woman?"
"A scarlet woman?" Lavender asked incredulously.
Ron rolled his eyes with annoyance as he crossed his arms stubbornly across his broad chest. "Just answer the question."
Lavender shook her head with disbelief and disappointment. "She's ruined you for the rest of us." she said angrily, jabbing him in the chest.
Ron's eyes narrowed to slivers. "What do you mean?"
"What do I mean? Look at you." She cried, flinging out a hand. "She's all the way in Bulgaria having a good time with a bloody other bloke and here you are still completely devoted to her. I mean it's almost as if…" she stopped. Her hazel eyes widened with sudden understanding "…you're in love with her. You are, aren't you?" Her face softened as she saw the look of pain that came over his features for a spare moment before disappearing again behind the mask he had been wearing for weeks. "I always knew you fancied her…but…"
"But what?"
"But nothing. What happened?"
Ron straightened to his full height, his body as stiff as a board. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Ron," She placed a coaxing hand on his arm. "You can tell me."
"Lavender." He snapped, wrenching his arm away. "Drop it. I don't want to talk about her, especially not with you." And with that he stomped up to his dormitory, slamming the door behind him, ignoring the sound of merriment going on several floors below as his team celebrated on without him.
