Consequences

Once a Friend, now a Bastard!

"Best friend my fucking arsehole!"

Ron sat alone in his room at The Burrow, thankful to be back in a warm and loving environment. Despite his moving out and the additions to the family, meaning Bill's wife Fleur and their new baby daughter, Jacqueline (Merlin only knows where they got that name from), his mother had still kept his room for him. It was exactly as he had left it after the defeat of Voldemort at the end of his seventh year at Hogwarts … it was messy.

Some of his old clothes were still sprawled all over the floor, his school trunk in the corner was open revealing a mass of crumpled parchments, books and spilt ink pots and all along the window sill sweet wrappers, old socks and photographs from his years at Hogwarts.

One of those photographs lay ripped in half in the centre of the room surrounded by the shattered glass of its frame. The moving figures of Ron and Hermione lay on a half each of the torn photo, facing the opposite direction from each other. The miniature figure of Hermione kept stealing glances at Ron with an expression of remorse and regret on her face.

Ron glanced lazily at the clock on the wall. It read 2:31am. He had been unable to sleep properly for the past week since it had happened. Closing his eyes for too long only resulted in him reliving the horrible event all over again in his mind's eye.

How could they do this to me?

He felt completely disgusted. He almost fainted when he saw them. He did thankfully manage to hold back his tears until he got to The Burrow.

Ron fought to keep his eyelids up with great difficulty. Drinking caffeine only postponed sleep for so long. He had to get over this … he had to get over her.

God, it's only been a week! I'm allowed to mourn over losing her for a while longer, aren't I?

He sighed deeply and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. His feet hung over the bottom of the bed. He had sure grown a lot since last sleeping here. The last time he had slept in it was just before he moved out after his seventh year. He and Hermione had just had sex. Ron smiled slightly at the memory of almost being caught by his mother. She had come home early from shopping and was on her way up the stairs when Ron had heard her. In a moment of pure panic, he and Hermione had apparated into Fred and George's room, thinking that they were not there. Of course, Ron's luck was never that good and they were both greeted with the monstrous laughs of the troublesome twins. Ron had stood in front of a completely naked and embarrassed Hermione while trying to protect his own nakedness. Of course at the time, it had not at all been funny, in fact it at the time it had been as far from funny as Pluto was from the Sun, but thinking about it now, it did seem quite hilarious.

His hand instinctively moved down his trousers to his manhood at the memory of Hermione's beautiful naked body. He never could help masturbating whenever her body entered his mind's eye. The thought of her ravishing figure would send any man crazy. Her wonderfully tanned skin, her perfect breasts that Ron loved to suck on, that perfect triangular shaped mound of curly brown hair. Ron could still remember her moaning his name as he made love to her slowly.

"Oh, Hermione!" Ron sighed heavily, fighting back tears as he pulled his hands out of his trousers. How could he think about her that way any more, considering that she probably screamed Harry's name ten times louder!

Ron let his eyelids close as the memories of how he was betrayed came flooding back with a horrid vengeance.

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Ron knew he was staring at Harry oddly but he couldn't help it.

"What a weird thing to say, Harry," Ron said slowly. "Not 'I hope Ginny's ok', or 'poor Ginny', just 'I hope Hermione's ok.' I swear its Ginny your supposed to be getting married to!"

Shouldn't he be feeling sympathy for Ginny and planning ways to make up with her?

Ron had been best mates with Harry since his first year, but if Harry hurt his baby sister then Harry would definitely receive a punch in his jaw.

Ron had always been protective of Ginny, as had the rest of his brothers. They couldn't help it; they all just saw her as the sweet, innocent little girl that couldn't defend herself, surrounded by a mass of hormonal boys with only one thing on their minds. He knew this because he was one himself.

Well that wasn't exactly true. There was indeed one thing that he wanted when he was an extremely hormonal teenager, but there was only one person he had really wanted to share that with.

Harry had been babbling about himself and Ginny when he stopped mid-sentence and began staring out of the window to his right. Ron guessed that someone was approaching and his assumption was confirmed when the doorbell rang.

He got up to answer it, as Harry seemed frozen. What was up with him lately? Ron stopped before the door. He knew who it was. He could faintly smell her delicious Vanilla perfume, the one she always brought from that muggle shop in London. What was it called again? 'The Booty Shop'? No wait, 'The Body Shop', that was it.

Ron recalled his first muggle shopping trip, which had been when Hermione had taken him to this exact shop. They had just come back from her parents' house, as she needed to get some muggle money so that they could go shopping. Ron had never been muggle shopping, but he found it just as annoying as normal shopping.

"Don't worry, Ronald," Hermione had said as she weaved her way through the crowds of Oxford Street, "it'll be exactly like normal shopping."

"I don't like normal shopping," He moaned as he tried to keep up with her.

"You like any activity, as long as I'm involved," Hemione laughed.

"True," he mused as she turned and smiled at him.

She led him into a shop with a dark green frame and a light peach interior. When he stepped into the shop he was overcome by a blast of an overpowering aroma. It smelt like vanilla, cinnamon, strawberry, orange, blueberry, mango, peach and a few other delicious-smelling fragrances. It was like smelling a homemade tropical drink. Although extremely strong, it was a very soothing smell.

Hermione lead him over to a corner, which was packed with about 6 shelves full of dark yellow items. Hermione picked up a perfume bottle. It was either a clear liquid within a dark yellow bottle, or a dark yellow substance within a transparent bottle, Ron couldn't quite tell. He saw Hermione's jaw drop when she checked the price of the perfume.

"Twelve pounds? Damnit, they've raised the price again," she moaned as she made her way to the cash till.

"How much is twelve pounds then?" Ron asked curiously as he followed her. He wasn't familiar with muggle currency and he found their coins extremely interesting. He did often wonder who the old woman on the gold coins was.

"Twelve pounds is probably the equivalent of two and a half galleons, or two galleons and a few sickles."

"Two and a half galleons for that tiny bottle?" Ron said rather loudly. When he realised that people were staring, he said in a quieter tone, "Why buy it if it's so expensive?"

Hermione stopped at the till and turned to face him. "I buy it because you love it," she said before flashing that beautiful smile, the one that always left his knees feeling weak.

Ron pulled himself back to the present as the doorbell rang a second time. He opened the door to admit entry to the beautiful angel on the other side.

"Good evening, Ronald," she said as she stepped over the threshold and removed her hat. Her hair was wild and loose. It framed her radiant face perfectly and that was the way Ron liked it.

"Hello love," he said embracing her in a longing hug, "I'm so glad to see you. Been feeling lonely."

Hermione tried to hide a faint smile. "Not tonight, Ronald, I'm here on business." She paused and seemed to hesitate at her next words. "Where's Harry?"

Harry seemed to have the weirdest look on his face, an expression of pain and desperation. Ron supposed he must have been thinking about Ginny. He looked up as they walked in and seemed to stare at Hermione. For what seemed like ages they were staring at each other. Looking back and forth at the expressions on their faces, Ron began to wonder what the hell they were both staring at. What's going on? Ron decided to try and wake them out of their weird trance. He shook Hermione gently, who instantly looked at him and blushed gently. He then turned to Harry. "Harry! Wake up! What's wrong with you? You've been out of it for ages," he said when Harry finally seemed to snap back to reality.

"Erm … sorry Ron, just have a lot on my mind … you know, me and Ginny," Harry said. Ron narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Harry greeted Hermione. Then she told Harry that she needed a word alone with him. Ron could feel his ears heating slightly at her words. He couldn't ever remember being left out of a conversation between Harry and Hermione. What could she possibly have to say to Harry that she couldn't say in front of him? He was her boyfriend for Merlin's sake! He wanted to say something about this. He should be involved in this conversation and he knew what it was about. He wasn't stupid! After witnessing the argument earlier on that evening between Harry and Ginny, Ron knew what the conversation was about, but what about it was so private that he had to be left out of it?

Ron was quite annoyed about being left out, but he and Hermione had just made up after a three-week argument and he didn't want to make a scene. He decided to make up an excuse to leave them alone, even though he didn't want to.

"Oh alright! I'll go! I was going to Mum's anyway. She says Dad wants help painting the kitchen 'cause he wants to do it the muggle way. I might stay over, I'm only going to get drunk and splinch myself." Wow, what a lame excuse! They seemed to be buying it though because Hermione smiled and thanked him. He knew that was his sign to leave. Ron leaned in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. He had to leave with something. Kissing her was like heaven.

Ron wrapped his coat tighter around himself as he stepped into the cold October air. He didn't know where to go. Maybe he could go to the pub? The Three Broomsticks would be open, but … would anyone be there? Ron usually went to the pub with some of his old school mates and work colleges like Dean Thomas and Lee Jordan, but he wasn't sure that they would be there now, and he certainly didn't want to walk into the pub alone. As the cool air whipped past and stung his ears, Ron began to wish that he really did have to go to his mother's house. Ron made his decision and buttoned his shirt as he took a step forward and spun on the spot before disappearing with a sharp 'pop'.

As Ron appeared in front of The Three Broomsticks, he hoped that someone he knew would be inside. He would look like a complete loner if he went in and he couldn't see anyone that he knew. Plus he would have to order a drink and then sit down alone. Taking a deep breath, Ron stepped into the dimly lit pub.

As the door closed behind him he immediately and very quickly scanned the pub and sighed with relief as he saw a rather large group of old school friends and a few work colleges sitting by the window.

"Thank Merlin for that!" he thought as he walked over to the rather loud group. As he approached the table he could hear the greetings that were being shouted at him from across the room and couldn't help but smile.

"Eh! Its Ronny boy! 'Bout time you showed up!"

"Sup, Weasley! Come sit down and have a drink!"

"Hey, Ron! Where 'av you been?"

"Grab a drink, Ronny, you look like you need to get pissed!"

"Hey, guys!" Ron said jovially as he reached the table and took a seat next to Neville. Just as he removed his coat, Luna appeared on his other side with three bottles of Firewhisky. "Hello, Ronald," she said sweetly as she passed him one of the bottles of alcohol, "How have you been?"

"Good thanks, Luna" he replied politely as he accepted the drink. He took a sip of his drink as he observed everyone around the table. Fred, George, Lee Jordan and Seamus were sitting at the head of the table discussing new inventions for Fred and George's Joke Shop. Last year Seamus had requested to work with the twins and had only been accepted because he managed to come up with some ideas that the twins found to be 'pure genius in the making'. And voila, there he was now, in partnership with the twins and the creator of new school pranks such as 'Hall Shriekers': tiny devices that you could stick on a wall outside of a classroom and programme to 'shriek' and scream like someone in trouble at any time during a lesson. That way the teacher runs out to investigate the problem and children are left alone in the classroom to sabotage it, put a Super Glue Charm on the teacher's chair, or whatever evil little pranksters do these days.

Fred and George loved them, but Luna and Neville hated them. Luna and Neville had become teachers at Hogwarts, and had been teaching for the past 3 years now. When asked why they wanted to be teachers (which was very often!), Luna would say that she couldn't bear to part with the school, whereas Neville, whose grandmother died during the big battle, would say that it was the only family he had left. Neville became the Herbology teacher, which everyone predicted would happen, seeing as it was the only subject he could get higher than a 'D' in. Luna actually became the Transfiguration teacher, which was a bit of a shock to everyone at first. However, it seemed less shocking after she reminded everyone of how she made those wonderful hats during her years at Hogwarts for the different Quiddich games. (And she did eventually manage to perfect them by getting her roaring lion hat to chew on a snake when supporting Gryffindor against Slytherin and by getting her Eagle hat to claw savagely at a badger when supporting Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff.)

Near the bottom of the table, Lavender Brown looked like she was trying to chat up Eric Rosethorn, a guy that Ron worked with. He was actually a really nice, good-looking guy and didn't deserve to be subjected to the constant, annoying giggles of Lavender. He was tall and had strawberry-blonde hair that came just above his shoulders and fell across his face, covering one eye. The eye that was visible was blue, but when crossed with sunlight, it actually looked violet. He had a strong jaw and was quite well built (Ron had been asking him about his work out programme for weeks now!). He was wearing a royal blue top and black trousers, which Lavender's leg now seemed to be rubbing against. Ron suppressed a smirk when Eric shot her what looked like a disgusted glance and shook his head vigorously. The sudden deflation of Lavender's aggravating smile should have been enough to brighten Ron's day … yet it wasn't.

Even though he was surrounded by friends, jokes, smiles, laughter and alcohol, he just couldn't stop thinking about his Hermione. He sighed gently and took a gulp of his Firewhiskey.

"Have you two properly broken up yet?"

Ron jumped at the sudden voice in his ear and nearly choked on his drink. After a minute of coughing and spluttering, he turned to Luna with a look of pure confusion on his face. He was sure he had misheard her. Ignoring everyone, who had suddenly stopped his or her conversation to watch his coughing fit, he faced Luna. "What did you say?"

"I said, have you two properly broken up yet? You and Hermione I mean."

Ron's mouth opened and closed suddenly. He didn't know what to say. What a weird question. It had completely caught him off guard. After a few seconds he replied, "What do you mean 'properly' broken up?" What exactly was she trying to imply?

"I mean you two are constantly breaking up and making up again. I was just curious to know if both of you had taken the hint and ended it for good yet … have you?"

For a minute, Ron thought Luna was joking, but the look on her face told him otherwise. Were they really that bad a couple? Sure they had their differences, and sure they argued a few times, sometimes … over tiny things … but doesn't every couple argue once in a while? The last argument had been because of Ron's nights at the pub. He used to come to the pub with his work mates everyday after work and Hermione got extremely sick of it. Although even now Ron just couldn't see what the big deal was. He never came home too drunk and he always returned every night before midnight, which is a good time, isn't it? And when he got home he would always make love to Hermione before falling asleep next to her beautiful body. Girls liked that didn't they? Well, not Hermione. She thought that he didn't treat her right, and she thought that it was meaningless sex, which it so wasn't! It meant the world to Ron, which is why he had to have it every night. He just didn't understand what that argument was about. But, it was an argument nevertheless and Ron had stood his ground. He had done nothing wrong, but due to the stubbornness of that bloody girl, they had stopped talking for three weeks! Three whole weeks without seeing Hemione's hypnotic body was like torture, which is why Ron had apologised and brought her a dozen blue roses (they were her favourite) and a box of Belgian chocolates.

Ron bought himself back to the present and found Luna staring at him. Reminding himself of her ludicrous question he answered, "No, we haven't 'properly' broken up and we won't! Our relationship is strong and can overcome any argument we have." Luna gave him a dreamy look as she rested her head on her hand, then lifted the other and ran a finger down Ron's right arm. What was she doing? "Do you really believe all that crap you just came out with, Ronald? Can you honestly say you aren't getting bored with your 'part-time' relationship?"

Ron's mouth dropped open. Part-time! How dare she! Of course their relationship wasn't part-time! And he definitely wasn't bored of it … was he? He had wanted to shout a response at Luna, he had wanted to shake her and push her away and make her understand … yet something had stopped him. Was their relationship only half? Did the constant stream of break ups make it so? Was he getting bored with arguing with Hermione about tiny things and hearing her nag and yell at him over nothing? Did he want a change? Ron was staring at Luna's face, which had now homed an 'I-knew-it' kind of grin.

"You are bored, aren't you," she said as her finger continued to run up and down Ron's arm. No, she had to be wrong! Ron pushed her arm away and replied, "No, our relationship is fine, thank you."

He drained the rest of his no warm drink and stood up to leave. No one noticed him walk off. No one, except Luna who still wore the same unnerving grin. He had to get home. Looking at his watch he saw that it was nearly midnight. Hermione would still be at the flat. She never went home if it was past 11pm. She always slept in the spare bedroom, which was furthest from Harry's room. Thank Merlin! Ron loved it when she slept over because they would always make love and then snuggle and Harry wouldn't be able to hear or even walk past the room. Ron, having never had any intention of staying at his mother's tonight, wrapped his coat tighter around himself and prepared to Apparate home.

That talk with Luna had unnerved him and he wanted some reassurance. He was sure a good shag from his favourite girl would let him know that their relationship was sound. With a smile on his face at the thought of the sex goddess that awaited him, he took a step forward, turned on the spot and disappeared with a 'pop'.

The house was quiet, which was to be expected. Harry and Hermione were bound to be asleep at this time of the night. Ron removed his coat and placed it on the stand in the hall. He couldn't wait to get to his Hermione. He was sure she wouldn't mind being woken up for a quickie. He walked quietly to the far bedroom and opened it gently. With a smile on his face he tiptoed to the bed and whispered "Love? Are you awake? Your lion needs some lovin'."

When his question went unanswered Ron groped the bed in the dark. It was empty. Could she have gone home? Well, Ron had been out for three and a half hours, there was a chance that she had finished her little talk with Harry and left before eleven. Damnit! His reassuring shag would have to wait until tomorrow evening then.

Feeling deflated, Ron walked to his room. He opened the door, switched on the light and got the shock of his life. There in his bed were Hermione and Harry. Naked. Asleep. Hugging. No, not hugging, tangled in each other's bodies! Surely this was some kind of sick dream!

Harry and Hermione?

Hermione and Harry?

The fact that they were naked meant something must have happened. They couldn't have just decided to strip naked and sleep next to each other. Ron felt sick. He held on to the doorframe to stop himself from fainting. The thought of Hermione beneath Harry kept slapping him upside the head. His imagination ran horribly wild as he stared at the two lying peacefully in the bed. It was the feeling of betrayal that hit him first. How could Harry do this to him? His best friend! Then it was anger and rage that crept up on him with a vengeance. Ron found himself being taken over by an unstoppable rage. Without a second thought he walked up to the bed and punched the sleeping Harry clear in his jaw.

Harry and Hermione woke up on cue and Ron watched their eyes widen in disbelief as his wand appeared and faced Harry's chest threateningly. Hermione screamed and stared cautiously from the wand to Ron's face.

"Get up" Ron whispered with pure venomous rage. Harry, clutching his jaw, stood up with a look of pure terror in his eyes. Ron let his eyes bore into Harry, never moving from his traitorous frame, yet he noticed Hermione out of the corner of his eye and saw her slide out of the bed and wrap herself in the sheets. Harry backed into a wall and Ron closed in on him. Twelve years of friendly thoughts about Harry seemed to be oozing out of Ron's every pore. He could hear Hermione sobbing gently beside him. She would be next. How dare she do this to him? All he ever gave her was pure love!

"Ronny … please, we can … we can explain," she sobbed. That didn't seem to waver Ron's rage. Then he spoke … the traitor. "Look … mate I'm so so sorry … please just … hear me out." Sorry? Sorry! How dare he even try to apologise! Ron's lip curled in disgust. He was sure the look he was giving was worthy of Snape. "I'll give you sorry!" Ron shouted as he lifted his wand to curse Harry.

"Cruci…" Ron hadn't had the chance to finish his unforgivable curse because he had been knocked to the floor. As he looked up, he found Hermione straddling him and pointing her own wand to his face. The look that he seemed to be giving off was pure confusion, and the look that he received from the girl he thought he would always love was obviously regret.

She shook her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Ronald. I never meant for you to find out this way." Her hand was trembling, and so was Ron's heart.

"What … do you mean, Hermy?" He didn't know why he asked that. He didn't want to hear her answer. The look on her face told him that it would not be something that he wanted to hear. It wouldn't be a story of how Harry slipped her love potion, or how Harry raped her and gave her a sleeping drought after. It would be something that indicated that they had had great sex while he had been out wondering if their relationship was really as strong as he hoped it would be.

Hermione gulped and stole a glance at Harry before returning her moist, puffy eyes to Ron. "I love Harry," she said quietly. Then the rest came out in a rush. "I'm so sorry Ronald, but I can't deny my feelings. I've liked Harry since our fourth year; it's just that I've only just taken notice of it. I'm truly sorry, Ron, I never intended to hurt you."

She never intended to hurt me? Bullshit! She wouldn't have fucked that idiotic, attention-seeking bastard behind my back if she hadn't intended to hurt me!

Ron could feel his anger surfacing again and it seemed that Hermione could too. She bit down on her bottom lip and gulped again. "I'm so sorry, Ron," she whispered before she raised her wand and hit Ron with a Stupefy spell.

Ron sat up five minutes later to find the room empty, his wand broken and his heart completely shredded.

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Ron opened his eyes to find himself staring at the white patterned ceiling of his bedroom at The Burrow. He turned his head slowly to the right to observe the clock sitting high on the wall. It was 2:46 am. Why was time going so slowly? As he slowly clenched and unclenched his now sweaty hands, he began to wonder again, as he had done for the past week, why Hermione had chosen Harry. What did Harry have that he didn't?

Deciding once again to slam a door shut on noticing the truth or trying to observe the situation from Hermione's point of view, he began to think that maybe he had misjudged her. Maybe she wasn't the special and unique angel he had thought she was, maybe she was like every other annoying woman: shallow and vain. Perhaps she was intelligent enough to put on an act and seem like the type of woman not to be interested in just looks, fame and riches in men, when really that was exactly what she was and exactly why she had chosen Harry. Yeah, that's the reason … it had to be! She chose Harry because of the same reason every girl does: his fame. A poor, plain, redheaded boy covered in freckles must not have suited her female tastes.

Ron had a hard time convincing himself that what he thought was true. He knew, deep down that the reason Hermione had chosen Harry was because he was probably a better match.

Lets face it … I don't know a single couple who argued as much as Hermione and I throughout our whole relationship.

Ron began to feel chilly. He drew the covers up to his chin and sighed heavily. The candle by the side of his bed extinguished, leaving him in complete darkness. It surrounded him like the truth of his now ex-girlfriend surrounded his heart. He knew why Hermione had chosen Harry; it was just that until now, he had chosen to cling to denial rather than acceptance. He had been a terrible boyfriend. Looking back on how he had actually treated Hermione, he raised his hands to his face to capture the shameful tears that fell from his eyes.

He had always moaned at her for the most inadequate reasons; like if she got up too early on a Saturday morning to cook breakfast, he would moan that she was too much of a busy body and demand she come back to bed. If she tried to straighten her hair to impress him, he would always tell her she cared too much about her looks but never followed this statement with a compliment, making it sound like he called her vain. There were many more, but above all, he always demanded sex every night. Of course to him, it was a necessity, a physical need. He needed to make love to her every night, or he thought he would die … but looking on it now, it would not have seemed that way to her. It may have looked like he only wanted her for sex and that was all he cared about.

Ron looked up and stared out of the window before him. The sky was cloudy and deserted. There was no sign of any creatures prowling the night. He wondered if Hermione was awake and staring out at the same gloomy sky.

I doubt it; she will most likely be snuggling up with Harry besides a lovely warm fire.

He bit his lip as more warm tears invaded his cheeks at the thought of Harry snuggling next to his angel. He sniffed quietly and wiped his face with the back of his hand, and decided that he could not blame Harry for what happened. It was no one's fault but his own and he would have to deal with the consequences.