A/N Sorry for the delay, my netbook battery ran out and I lost some of what I wrote.

Thanks to Shocolate for the read through and this chapter is dedicated to Republic of Ireland supporters.

Being Ron Part 6

Sitting beneath a tree, watching Lupin wading through lupines, and students attempting to pen in something Ron assumed was the result of a Niffler mating with a Blast Ended Skrewt, they fell into silence until Hermione nudged him in the ribs and smiled.

"Penny for them?"

Ron blinked and looked at her.

"Huh?"

"Or a Knut maybe?" Her smile widened.

"Sorry?" Ron frowned, missing the point altogether.

"Nothing," she said with a sigh, looking back at the class as they fell over backwards as a Blast Ended Niffler propelled itself out of the ground on a jet of flame before diving head first back into the soil.

"You can't contain them with a fence or a simple boundary," Ron called out, "you need a spherical spell to hold them in one place."

"Anybody know of a spherical containment spell?" Lupin asked his students.

Ron drew his knees up and hugged them to his body with a bracing huff.

"Cold innit?"

"Small talk," Hermione said with a nod, "okay then, I'll play along. Yes, it is a bit chilly tonight."

Ron looked back at her, eyebrows crinkled together in the middle.

"Am I supposed to be saying sorry for something? Did I do something when I was drunk at the party?"

"No," Hermione said with a shake of the head and a laugh, "you just seem to be distracted and I was trying to get you to talk about it. Unfortunately you were so distracted you didn't pick up on that."

"Oh," Ron said as he pretended to scan their surroundings with his trained eye to make sure the class was safe.

Hermione could tell he was avoiding the subject. She was kind enough to let it go.

"So when did you last see your car?" She glanced around into the forest behind them too.

"It's been years now," Ron said, relaxing now they'd left what was on his mind as a topic of conversation, "I don't know if its still here. It might have rusted solid. Maybe it fell in love with a milk float and they ran off to Guernsey together."

"Why Guernsey?"

"Why not Guernsey?" Ron finally turned his head to meet her eye again. He gave a shrug and a small smile.

Hermione bit her lip and looked into his eyes for an uncomfortably long time. She finally puffed out her cheeks with a deep exhalation and glanced at the students to make sure they were still a good way away.

"Could I... Would we be able to confide in each other now, do you think?" She looked back at him and saw him raising his guard.

"I'm fine, really."

"Good," she said with a nod and an expression that made it clear she didn't believe that for a second, "that's good, but if I needed to talk to you would you mind?"

"No," he said, turning his whole body towards her and putting his hand on her shoulder, "what's the matter?"

"Nothing's the matter," she smiled, "I just wanted to know if we could be there for each other. We can call on one another or send an owl or something if we needed to talk. I know we argued a lot before you went away but we could always... I'm really glad to have you back in my life as a friend, Ron."

He squeezed her shoulder and then turned back towards the group of students sending spells all over the place.

"They hate me," he mumbled.

Hermione's eyes widened and she gasped as she looked at the busy students.

"They worship you!"

"Not them.," Ron shook his head and looked down at his feet.

She shuffled along and linked her arm with his, squeezing tightly.

"You don't need them to like you," she said, taking him by surprise as he was sure he'd get the 'they're just jealous' speech he was used to, "just like you didn't need the Slytherins to like you."

"I had you and Harry with me when they didn't like me, though."

"And you have us now."

He looked at her and smiled.

"That's not it, is it?" Hermione said, annoyingly scrupulous at reading his moods.

He shook his head.

"You can tell me if you want to."

"I can't," he admitted, reluctantly.

She looked disappointed but let it go.

Ron realised that he was pretty much admitting by omission that he needed to talk to somebody about Gabrielle. Gabrielle was the only thing he couldn't talk to Hermione about. He couldn't even bring it up as being the reason because he was scared of ruining everything between them. They'd re-built the bridge and he wasn't knocking it down for anything.

He bowed his head and sighed as he realised that things weren't really back the way they were between the two of them. There was a deep fracture that would split all the way through until they were broken again and all it would take would be a discussion about his sex life.

"Right," Hermione said as she slapped her hands against her thighs and grunted to her feet, "I can't stand it so I'm going over there to help. Maybe they'll have me."

Ron's head snapped up and he watched her go with his jaw flapping before he swore under his breath and drove the heel of his boot into the earth in frustration.

"Stupid fucking sod!"


Hagrid tried and failed to tiptoe past Ron as the cock crowed. Fang even appeared to be trying to tread softly. Unfortunately, their efforts were pointless as Ron was laying on his side with his eyes open, watching them.

"Agh bugger!" Hagrid said as he stopped creeping towards his front door. "I didn't want teh wake yer."

"Y'didn't," Ron said as he sat up, "I was already up."

Fang shuffled over and smeared his cool wet nose against Ron's warm skin. He smiled and ruffled the folds of wrinkled fur around the dog's face.

Hagrid frowned.

"Yeh got in late last night."

"Yeah, sorry," Ron scratched the back of his head, hair sticking out at gravity defying angles much like Harry's did, "I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Don't yeh worry about tha'. I was jus' tryin' to give you some sleep. Y're looking done in."

"No, I'm fine," he planted his large bare feet on the floor and stretched his arms with such conviction several joints cracked.

"What are ya gettin' up for?" Hagrid made a waving gesture to encourage Ron to lie back down. Fang misunderstood this and jumped up at Ron, knocking him flat and winding him with the weight of his huge body.

"Okay!" He wheezed. "God you're heavy!"

"Fang, get down now," Hagrid was pulling the dog back by the scruff of his neck, "you'll snap 'im in two! Stop it now."

Ron was freed from Fang's weight and lay, flattened and gasping, across his improvised bed.

"We'll be on our way, you get some sleep, and then we can all sit down and have breakfast. I'll check the 'ens and if they're still not laying I'll ring the cock's neck and we'll eat 'im."

"Cock for breakfast," Ron said, wearily, "yummy."

He rubbed his eyes and then stared up at the ceiling. Hagrid wrestled Fang through the door and outside before closing the door and turning to look back at Ron, fretfully.

Ron peered through his fingers at him and then frowned.

"You forgot something?"

Hagrid scratched his chin through his bushy beard and then shook his head with a chuckle.

"Have you even been to sleep yet, Ron?"

"Yeah," Ron said, defensively, "well...on and off."

Hagrid looked at him with an alarming degree of astute scrutiny.

"I'm a little bit restless," Ron admitted.

"Is it them lot in that tent?" Hagrid growled.

"No," Ron said as he shook his head, "I'm just...there's a lot... I'm excited actually!" He forced a smile onto his face. "Gabrielle's coming up and we're going to spend some time together."

Hagrid beamed.

"That'll be nice fore yeh. I bet she's been missin' all the attention."

"Yeah," Ron relaxed a little, "she's feeling neglected so we're gonna spend some time alone." He paused, bit his lip, and then looked away with a blush. "I er...won't be home tonight."

"No sleep for another night eh?" Hagrid said, far too enthusiastically. "You get some now then, she won't be impressed to see those bags under your eyes."

"I'll try," Ron said, unable to understand why everybody thought he was a veteran of many nights of passionate sex with his girlfriend.

Hagrid opened the door and whistled for Fang. The door slammed shut and Ron pulled the blanket over his head. He was supposed to get some sleep but his mind was buzzing. Ordinarily he'd relish the chance to have a lie in. Ordinarily he'd whine for a little longer before he had to get up. Ordinarily he'd be able to fall asleep mid conversation if he wanted to.

He fumbled under the covers and then sighed to himself.

Ordinarily, he'd have a morning glory.

Today, of all days, Ron's dick wasn't interested.


He stepped out of the bathroom and looked around at the room he'd just paid for. It didn't look as fancy as the rooms at the Delacour's place but he wouldn't be able to afford a night at a place like that.

Gabrielle wouldn't mind, she liked the Burrow, but Ron decided to attempt to disguise the naff wallpaper and clashing curtains with some 'mood lighting'. He swapped the lanterns for candles and pulled the garish chintzy bedspread off only to see that the white sheets were a little off white after having been washed and washed and washed again over at least a decade.

He saw that the other side of the bedspread was plain and uninviting but that was better than the floral rhubarb and custard catastrophe emblazoned across it. He remade the bed and then folded his arms across his chest.

He huffed and wandered back into the bathroom to look at his reflection in the mirror.

He'd combed his hair very neatly and felt ridiculous. His shook his head and then dishevelled his copper locks a little.

"What time is she getting here?" The mirror asked him.

"Half seven," Ron answered, un-tucking his shirt.

"Your body looks long no matter what you do, that way you'll flash your belly when you lift your arms."

"Yeah but... Why am I taking fashion advice from a mirror?" Ron snapped.

"Because it's a quarter to eight and she's not here yet?"

Ron looked at his watch, eyes bulging, and swore. He was supposed to be down in the bar to meet her fifteen minutes ago. He bounded out of the room and descended the stairs like a stampede of male Hippogriffs on the scent of a female on heat.

He tripped at the foot of the stairs and then steadied himself in the doorway. He leaned into the bar and scanned over people's heads for Gabrielle's distinctive hair. His vision was blocked by a pair of soft, small hands.

"For fifteen minutes, you 'ave to kneel before me."

"Sorry I'm late," Ron said as he turned to face her, her hands falling away from his eyes as he moved, "though, to be fair, I'm not. I was here, just not here." He gestured around himself.

"You apologise on your knees," she said as she rose up onto her toes and draped her arms around his neck, "for making me wait for this."

She pulled him down until their lips met and she kissed him. They smiled against each other's lips and then became conscious that they were drawing attention to themselves and separated. Ron held her hand and cleared his throat.

"So, do you want to go to our room?"

Gabrielle looked up at him and arched an eyebrow.

"We can stay down here and talk for a while," Ron said, hurriedly, "if you...if you don't want to be anti-social."

"Maybe a drink to calm our nerves?" Gabrielle suggested with a smile.

"Yeah, great idea, I asked for a bottle of red wine to be kept for us. You like red don't you?"

"I love vin rouge."

"Yeah, I asked when I booked the room because they don't have much business for wine here but they can get something out of the cellar sometimes an-"

Gabrielle squeezed his arse and he stopped talking.

"Relax," she whispered as she moved her hand around to his waist and hugged him to her side, "you look very handsome and you arranged wine for me. I'll make sure you enjoy yourself on your knees."

Ron smiled at her and then nodded towards the stairs.

"The wine's upstairs but we can have a drink down here first if you like."

"I'd like to go up to our room now," Gabrielle said with a nudge of the hip against his thigh.

Ron nodded and then took her hand once more to lead her up the stairs.

Everybody knew what they were going to do. It was so obvious. They were so obvious. The thing was that it didn't really matter because everybody thought this was a drop in the ocean for them. Nobody knew it was their first time, nobody but Ginny, and he suddenly felt his face burning red at the thought of her teasing him about it.

He led Gabrielle up the stairs and tried not to think of Ginny and her brand new older sister routine. She never had more experience in things than he did. His missing five years had turned his whole world topsy-turvy. At least his relationship with his mum was still the same. Mother hen and baby boy, that hadn't changed.

They were walking along the landing towards the door to their room for the night now and Ron realised that now was not the time to be thinking about his mother.

Oh fuck, now there's nothing else but that!

If his mum knew what he was doing, what people in the pub downstairs all knew he was doing, she'd be... What would she be? Disappointed, angry, upset?

Was this ungentlemanly?

He opened the door and Gabrielle gasped at the candlelit setting he'd prepared.

"Oh! Oh Ron, this is why you were late? D'accord, we can both be on our knees, this is beautiful!"

Did his mum think he'd lost his virginity already too?

"It's a bit crap really but..." he mumbled and Gabrielle pulled him inside and then pushed him against the door with her embrace, closing the door behind them, and kissed him passionately.

Then again, she was always naive about her children, especially the younger ones, and she might think or at least hope that he was still pure. She'd kick the door down if she knew he was losing his virginity in an upstairs room at pub.

Stop thinking about your mother!

"What are you thinking about?" Gabrielle said as she gazed up at him.

"Uh... You look really pretty."

She hopped up and wrapped her legs around his body as she gave him so much tongue he wondered if there was magic at work, what she was doing didn't seem possible. He staggered with her in his arms and then dropped to his knees and set her down. Both on their knees, as Gabrielle had said they would be, they moved their hands all over each other's body.

"I'd worry that you've been practicing this but," Ron kissed her again, swallowing her tongue and then tilting his head to one side and slowly dragging back, "I know you wouldn't."

"Nobody can make me kiss zis good, nobody but you!" Gabrielle shuffled forward on her knees and nestled on his lap, hands weaving into his hair. "I've missed 'aving you with me every day. I've missed talking," she kissed him as he moaned into her mouth, "to you," she kissed again and then sighed as she felt his lips pressing against her neck, "and I've been waiting for this...Oh! Je t'aime!"

Ron stopped and looked into her eyes. He pressed his lips together and then took a deep breath in. Kissing her lightly on the lips and then stroking her hair he smiled.

"I do love you Gabs, I always love my best friends."

She smiled at him and kissed him on the lips, lightly.

"Best friends forever, whatever 'appens, yes?"

"Promise."

"Good." She grinned widely and hugged him.

"No, I mean, you promise," Ron said, seriously, "promise me you mean it because I really do love you and I don't want to ruin things doing this and lose another best friend because of...stuff not working out."

She cupped his face in her hand and looked at him with pride.

"You didn't lose 'ermione and you will never lose me. We don't 'ave to get married just because we do this."

"I know," Ron nodded, face still set in a sincere frown, "but still..."

"I promise."

Ron let go of his tension and cradled her head as he kissed her with a firmness that felt as if he was handling something fragile, like catching an egg and not breaking it with his big manly hands.

"Let's uncork this wine then, eh?" He smiled at her.

He was about get up to get the bottle when Gabrielle grabbed him by the wrist and kept him with her.

"Accio vin rouge!"

She caught it and Ron chuckled before summoning the corkscrew. Gabrielle read the label and then looked at him as if he was insane.

"Corvina Veronese?"

Ron tilted his head to read.

"Uh, yeah, is it not good?"

"It's not French!"

Ron stared at her and blinked, then he smiled a lopsided smile at her while uncorking the bottle.

"I'm not French either and you like me."

Gabrielle looked at the bottle and shook her head, disapprovingly.

"You give a French girl Italian wine."

"Vive la difference!" Ron said as he poured the wine into two glasses.

"The French make the best wine, just like...the...Tornadoes play the best Qui-"

Ron froze. Even the wine seemed to stop pouring.

"That had better be a joke."

Gabrielle tipped the bottle up and took the glass with a smile.

"I should try it first I suppose."

Ron poured himself a glassful and watched her sip the wine like a connoisseur.

"I could put a beret on it if you like," Ron said as he sniffed his wine in an imitation of her, "maybe a string of tiny onions around the neck of the bottle."

Gabrielle laughed and shoved him.

"It isn't bad for an Italian wine...I suppose."

"And the Cannons are?"

"The Cannons are underrated and nurture home grown talent rather than throwing money at spoiled prima donnas who bribe the referees and cheat."

"French people cheat." Ron mumbled.

"Excusez-moi?"

"The French cheat at Quidditch."

Gabrielle gaped at him.

"Do you want to 'ave sex tonight or not?"

Ron drank some of his wine and gave a one shouldered shrug.

"The Cannons pride themselves on good sportsmanship and St Etienne...won the European cup by cheating. Everybody knows Glentoran should have won that match. The Irish got screwed by the ref."

"And you won't be screwed at all if you carry on like this," Gabrielle warned him, playfully.

"Drink some more wine," Ron said as he took another mouthful.

"Dutch courage is it?" She asked, noticing that he was being as unromantic as possible.

"Well that suggests that only the Dutch can be brave, surely the French invented bravery?"

He smirked at her and she shoved him in the chest. They both laughed. She drank a little more wine and then crawled forward to kiss him.

"I think Italian wine tastes better this way," she spoke into his open mouth before he lightly bit her lip.

"So," Ron said as he looked into her eyes and clutched his wine glass like shield, "I might be crap at this but if we both get drunk it won't matter."

She took the glass from his hand and set it down, then hers beside it, and ran her hands up his thighs as she tilted her head to one side and smiled.

"I don't want to be drunk, I want to be relaxed, and you to be relaxed," she kissed the corner of his mouth and then whispered in his ear, "we'll drink slowly and talk to each other and kiss some more. Stop worrying about where we'll end up and enjoy this."

"But it's up to me how long it lasts and I have to do the charm to stop you getting pregnant an-"

"I have a charm too," she said as she kissed him again, full on the mouth this time, "and you are a young man and Fleur said that the young men can go again and again and again in the same night. If the first one is fast the next will be longer and the one after that..."

"Three times?" Ron felt dizzy. "I haven't even done it once and I don't know what I'm doing and...three times!"

"I don't care if it's three seconds one time," Gabrielle huffed, "stop worrying about it and let's just..." she wrapped her arms around his narrow back and slid her tongue between his parted lips, lapping at the tip of his and then easing in a little deeper.

Ron made a low vibrating sound into her mouth and massaged his tongue against hers as he matched the movement of her hands upon his back.

What was wrong with him? She was a beautiful woman, way out of his league, and she wanted him. Why wouldn't he have sex? She'd just told him it didn't even matter if he was crap. Where else would he find a woman who didn't mind if he was crap?

The kiss broke and he reached for his glass of wine.

He knew of one other woman who wouldn't have minded.