QLFC - Round 3 - Captain: write about a duel or fight, (lyric) 'I bring freedom to my people/If I'm given the chance' (inspiration only) - Yorktown (Hamitlon)
Summary: This time, Ron asks Hermione to a ball. Like last time, it doesn't end so well.
WC. 2088 (excluding a/n and title)
Next Time There's A Ball
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"
It was something that had plagued Ron for five years now. He hadn't realised it at the time, nor had he realised it even a year later, but Hermione's words to him that night had been spot on. The reason he'd felt so miserable was because he'd been jealous. And annoyed at himself that he'd not considered her as a date until it was too late.
So, when the opportunity came for another ball — a Ministry ball to welcome all the new recruits to their respective departments — Ron didn't feel the need to waste any time. He asked her, and she laughed.
"I'm serious," he said, feeling slightly put out that she hadn't seemed to take the question seriously. "Will you go with me?"
"Ron," Hermione said, taking his hands in hers and leaning forward to kiss him. "Of course I'll go with you, but you really didn't have to ask me. I just assumed we'd be going together."
It was true that the pair had been in a fairly solid relationship for almost a year now, but he had wanted to ask her, and he'd wanted to hear her say yes. Strangely, the nerves weren't as bad when he knew what her answer was going to be.
"It will be fun, don't you think?" Hermione then said. "A ball? I'm looking forward to it."
As was Ron. The last year had been extremely tough on many, but this brought some kind of normalcy to the chaotic lives of people who'd been affected by the war. After funerals, rebuilding the school, more funerals, Hermione going to Australia to find her parents, Hermione and Ginny returning to school, it felt as if things were finally beginning to sort themselves out.
Now, Harry, Ron and Neville were about to commence training as Aurors, and Hermione would begin a career in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They were happy; with each other, but also with where they were in life. It was strange to think that the previous year had been plagued with so much devastation.
Training began on Monday, but for now, they had the ball to look forward to.
"You just look… beautiful," Ron said, smiling as Hermione revealed herself after spending some time in the bathroom of her parents' home. He'd come by to pick her up — determined to treat it like a date — but had been forced to wait a little bit longer. It was rare that Hermione dressed up, or put in effort, but on occasions like these, she seemed to enjoy it. Ron suspected she liked to feel pretty at times, but quite frankly, Ron thought she was pretty all the time.
Hermione went faintly pink at the compliment, but returned his smile and said, "So do you."
Ron offered his hand to her, and from her bedroom, they Disapparated to an Apparition point near the Ministry. Ron immediately spotted Harry with his sister, the two waiting by some escalators that would lead to the Ministry entrance. It had taken Ron some time to accept that they were a very fitting pair, especially when they became too affectionate in front of him, but he was sort of used to it by now.
Ron and Hermione headed over to them, and they entered the Ministry together.
It was a beautiful sight. Ron's memories of it were not that great, only having been there in dire circumstances, such as finding prophecies in the Department of Mysteries or entering under Polyjuice Potion to get a Horcrux. Now, he would have to get used to this place being his work. But for tonight, it was a place to enjoy himself with the people he loved the most.
They followed signs directing them into a large room. It was stunning. The tables were decorated in cream and red; goblets floated across the room, stopping in front of people who may need a drink, and there was soft music playing in the background to enhance the calm atmosphere. Some people were already there, but based on the number of tables, a lot more were expected.
"Oh, look," Hermione said, tugging on his hand and taking him to a table, "we have our own place to sit."
Sure enough, they all had name plaques embossed with gold lettering.
Hermione smiled. "I guess we had no choice but to come together since we're sitting next to each other."
More people began to arrive, and Ron found himself at a table with Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Neville, and his date Hannah — who Ron vaguely remembered from school — as well as some other people he didn't know. It was difficult to retain all their names, but there was one particular person that stood out.
A burly man, not much older than Ron. He introduced himself as Elijah Blackthorne and made the point to mention that he was a pureblood and would be working closely with the Minister. Ron immediately disliked him, but as the night wore on, that dislike turned to near hatred.
"It's okay," Hermione whispered, squeezing his arms tightly. They were dancing together, but Blackthorne was nearby, rattling off — once again — his complete arseholish views on who should be working at the Ministry and who shouldn't be. What should have been an enjoyable evening was setting Ron's teeth on edge.
"He means you, you know?" Ron said. "We didn't go through everything we went through — my brother didn't die — just so people like him can continue spouting their stupid pureblood nonsense wherever we go. You've done a million more things for our world than he ever has, Hermione. I hate having to listen to it."
"I know," Hermione said gently, but she silenced any further discussion by kissing him, and for a brief moment, Ron was swept up in her, forgetting about everything else around them.
Until of course, they returned to their table. The prat was now giving Neville a long lecture on how Muggleborns simply just didn't get how things worked. They just couldn't, because they hadn't learnt since birth.
Neville's face was red, his fists clenched on his lap, while Harry was being held back by Ginny. But neither of them happened to have a girlfriend who fit the bill for Blackthorne's insults.
"Keep talking," Ron muttered under his breath. "I dare you…"
"Let's go and get a drink," Hermione whispered, dragging him away.
The bar was quiet, many people preferring the refilling goblets that kept appearing whenever the thought of another drink popped into their head.
"Having fun?"
Kingsley appeared beside them, grinning, just as Ron and Hermione got their drinks. He himself was carrying around one of the goblets and, by the look of him, he was enjoying a few too many refills.
"It's lovely, Kingsley," Hermione said. "We're having a great time." She smiled at Ron.
And it was true, he was having a good time. He got to dance with Hermione, he got to enjoy time with his friends, but the experience had been kind of soured by Blackthorne.
Speaking of…
Blackthorne was marching towards them, a look of determination in his eyes. They flashed dangerously at Hermione, and then he put on a fake smile as he approached Kingsley. "Minister," he said brightly, stepping past Ron and Hermione, and offering his hand to Kingsley. "What a pleasure it is to see you again."
"Ah, Blackthorne, isn't it?" Kingsley said, accepting the man's hand. "I was just speaking to Ron and Hermione here. Lovely evening, isn't it?"
Blackthorne's expression darkened as he shot a glare Ron and Hermione's way, but specifically at Hermione.
Ron gave a smug grin. That's right, you bastard. You're just a last name to the Minister for Magic. Suddenly, his mood lifted. "Such a pleasant evening, eh, Kingsley?"
"Splendid," Kingsley responded, taking another sip from his goblet. And he'd turned completely away from Blackthorne to engage in further discussion with his two friends.
Blackthorne was so red in the face he would have given any Weasley a run for their money. In an attempt to save his ego, he cleared his throat and said, "K-Kingsley, I was wondering if I could have a word with you about our start on Monday? As I will be working in your office, I would like to —"
Kingsley waved him away. "Another time, Blackthorne. This is a party, not work. Go and enjoy yourself. And, it's Minister to you." He beamed at Ron and Hermione. "I'll see you two around, yes?" He paused, looking them up and down, and added, "A wonderful couple, by the way. I always saw the spark between the two of you. Glad it worked out." And he left to go and talk to some others close by, stumbling ever so slightly.
"I guess you'll have to earn the trust of the Minister," Ron said. "I suppose blood status simply isn't enough, is it, Blackthorne?"
Hermione nudged him in the ribs, a warning.
"What are you on about, Weasley?" Blackthorne snapped, more purple than red now.
"Your idiotic rambling," Ron said. "I guess it's all for nothing. After all, Minister Shacklebolt didn't think much of you, did he?"
"Ron…"
"He was distracted," Blackthorne snarled.
"Not very interesting, then, are you?" Ron continued, despite Hermione's much harder nudge.
Blackthorne's eyes moved from Ron, to Hermione, then back to Ron. "I'm sure I'll impress more than your Mudblood —"
"Ron!"
SMACK.
It was a sound that drew the celebrations to a halt. The music stopped, and people looked around to find Elijah Blackthorne, the pompous idiot who'd been boring them with his incessant rambling all evening, fallen on the ground clutching a bloody nose.
Standing over him was Ron Weasley, nursing a broken hand, and a shocked, but mildly pleased, Hermione Granger, feebly attempting to hold him back.
…
"You really shouldn't have hit him, Ron," Hermione said fifteen minutes later. They had been taken into a separate room, where Ron's hand was being tended to by a Healer who'd been in attendance with his wife.
"If Ron hadn't, I would have," Harry said.
"I was this close to doing it myself," Neville added, holding up his thumb and finger.
"A good Bat-Bogey Hex might have set him straight," Ginny commented.
"I don't regret it," Ron told her, wincing as the Healer placed Dittany over the broken skin. "He was insulting you. Besides, I did everyone a favour. Bloke was an idiot."
"That's… not the point," Hermione said, though there was still a smile on her lips as the Healer now fixed the fractured bones with his wand.
They left the room and returned to the hall, where the party had resumed. In a corner was Blackthorne looking furiously up at Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"You were right there, Minister!" he was saying, a cloth to his nose where blood was still dripping. Apparently no one had bothered to offer their help in fixing his injury. "How could you not have seen Weasley's fist slam into my face?"
"Hm, must have turned away at the wrong time, Blackthorne," Kingsley said mildly. "I just cannot recall seeing anyone hit you in the face."
Blackthorne was simply furious by the Minister's obvious lie. He stood up, the cloth still drawn to his nose and stalked away. When his eyes caught those of Ron, Hermione, and the others, he stopped, glowered and then stormed from the room all together.
"And, how are you, Ron?" Kingsley asked, coming over to them, looking rather amused.
Ron held out his hand. "Good as new. It's like it never happened."
"Like what never happened?" Kingsley asked, smiling. "Enjoy the rest of the party."
And enjoy it they did. The mood lifted once it became obvious Blackthorne wasn't going to be returning. It got very late into the night, and after exhausting themselves with dancing, Ron and Hermione sat in a corner of the room, fingers entwined, smiling as they watched the remaining guests.
"Thank you for before, Ron," Hermione said, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Anytime," Ron replied. "He deserved it. We haven't been through what we have just for blokes like him to ruin it all over again."
Hermione squeezed his hand, but said nothing more. "It was certainly eventful."
Ron snorted. "Yeah. Sure was. You know what?"
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Next time there's a ball, we're not going."
Thank you to be lovely team for beta-ing! And thank you to some lovely fellow QLFC members for suggesting Blackthorne's name for me!