What can I say? I am overcome by the festive spirit. That or the spirit of Mills and Boon. Either way, who am I to argue? So I've decided to post a chapter ahead of schedule.

Chapter 6 -Misunderstandings

While Ron was out of the room Gabrielle took the opportunity to indulge in an animated, but silent scream. She drummed her feet against the floor in agitation at the memory of what she had just done.

She was mortified. Totally and utterly mortified.

So much for Mel and her traditional methods! Gabrielle could not quite believe her own actions. Not that it had been the plan in any way, shape or form to get into a massive fight with her older, more sophisticated, beautiful sister or to stoke up a temper so vile it could have repelled the most hardened of Deatheaters.

She deserved to get thrown out of Ravenclaw for this, Gabrielle realised. What part of her patently sub-standard brain had thought that that was a good jumping off point for throwing herself at Ron?

Yes, very attractive!

And the worst part was that he had just ignored it and carried on as if nothing had happened. Her humiliation was now complete.

Gabrielle gave herself over to another soundless fit of frustration.

"You alright, Gabby?" a worried voice interrupted. She hadn't heard Ron come back in.

As gracefully as the situation allowed, she stilled her flailing limbs and rearranged her features into a less disturbing expression. She was aiming for a smile but the strained look on Ron's face told her she hadn't quite managed it.

"I'm fine," she replied wondering whether she could get away with telling him that, no, she wasn't a total psychopath.

"Hermione said that it might be an idea for you to hang out here tonight," Ron told her.

"Here?" Gabrielle said. With you, she thought hysterically.

"Yeah," said Ron, running his hand absently through his hair. "Just while things with your sister settle down a bit."

Gabrielle swallowed. It had come to this; she wasn't welcome in her sister's home any more. She slumped forward and hung her head in her hands.

"She hates me," Gabrielle said in a flat tone. She hadn't meant to be so stark about it but she couldn't help herself.

"Nah," Ron assured her with a wonky smile. "Brothers and sisters fight. Believe me, I know. She'll get over whatever it is." He paused and then said, "So, what is it?

Once she started talking Gabrielle found it hard to stop. She told Ron everything; every silly little grip and niggle that had contributed to the resulting blow up that afternoon. Every snide comment that Fleur had directed at Gabrielle recently got aired. Every scornful look and dismissive gesture was examined.

Even as she was saying it, she knew it sounded like a ridiculous reason for scrapping in the street.

But Ron didn't think so. He listened patiently and when she finally stopped talking he nodded. "I don't blame you for getting upset."

"You don't?" Gabrielle said surprised.

"You can't help it if everyone likes you better than Fleur, can you?"

"What?" Whatever Gabrielle had been thinking it wasn't that.

"Oh, come on," Ron smiled. "She never got on with Mum or Ginny. Or Hermione. And they all think you're the best thing since sliced bread. She's jealous."

Gabrielle just looked at Ron and did a passable impression of a goldfish.

"You really didn't know?" When she shook her head Ron laughed and said, "I though Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart."

"Not me, not recently," Gabrielle admitted. "I suppose it makes some sort of sense. I just thought she didn't like them much."

"Maybe she really doesn't," Ron said reasonably. "Plenty of people don't."

Gabrielle mulled that little bombshell over for a while. It was a little too much information to process. In the end she decided that no matter what the external factors, Fleur had been way out of line. They were sisters. They were supposed to be on the same side. Gabrielle had been jealous of Fleur on and off for years but she hadn't resorted to stalking her or accusing her of the things she had.

Then, for no apparent reason, Gabrielle remembered Mel. She must be wondering what had happened to her.

"Ron," she said, "Do you have an owl I can borrow?"

"Erm," Ron frowned uncomfortably, "Sort of."

"Zat is an owl?" Gabrielle said. "Really? It looks like those puff things your brothers sell in their shop."

"It's got wings," said Ron defensively. "And it's categorically not an evil Deatheater animagus living in hiding like my last pet."

Gabrielle stared dubiously at the tiny owl as it zoomed around the room, bouncing of the walls and twittering manically. How on earth could it deliver a letter if it couldn't even fly in a straight line?

But then she glanced at Ron and realised that if she refused to use the owl he would be quite hurt.

"Okay," she said handing the folded parchment to Ron.

Even though she hadn't quite got over her embarrassment Gabrielle had regained enough composure to eat a take away, play a game of chess and chat to Ron without breaking out in a cold sweat.

But she couldn't help sneaking the odd look at him as she tried to figure out just what he was thinking. Had he felt anything at all? At the time she had been sure he had kissed her back but as the hours passed doubt set in. Maybe she had imagined it.

At any rate, all those little glances served only to fluster her and puzzle Ron, if the bemused expression on his face was anything to go by.

What now? Should she confront him? Or would it just be better to let things lie? Damn that bloody bird! She needed a reply from Mel soon. She needed advice.

Gabrielle only noticed it was nearing midnight when she found herself stifling a yawn.

"Oops! Sorry Gabby," Ron said. "Should have guessed you'd be getting tired. I'll show you your room."

Gabrielle made a half-hearted protest. She didn't want to go to bed, not while things were so unresolved but Ron was already on his feet and heading out of the kitchen. Reluctantly she followed him into the dim hall.

"Wait," he whispered suddenly, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a halt.

Their eyes met and Gabrielle felt shivers roll down her spine. She couldn't pull her gaze out of those sea blue eyes and suddenly felt quite dizzy. Ron had always towered over her, but now in that narrow corridor he made her feel very small, and very young. Too young, perhaps, for him.

"Don't wake up Mrs Black," he warned her in the same low voice. "Come on."

Gabrielle wanted to ask who Mrs Black was but she obeyed Ron's instructions as they tiptoed to the foot of the stairs. The only problem was that as Ron stepped up onto the first tread he smacked his forehead against a low hanging light fitting.

"Bollocks!" he spat clutching his head.

A screech then filled the hall and curtains, which Gabrielle had naturally assumed were drawn across a window, flew open to reveal a life-size portrait of someone who bore a rather ironic resemblance to Fleur in full tantrum mode earlier that day.

"Filth! Shame! How the noble house of Black is desecrated by half-breeds and blood traitors!" the painting wailed.

"I beg your pardon!" Gabrielle said angrily.

"Gabby, there's no point," said Ron. "She's stark raving mad."

"I will not be insulted by a painting," Gabrielle told him and drew her wand. "Be silent, Mrs Black, or I will silence you."

The woman in the portrait merely continued her agonizing shrieks and made some rude gestures.

Gabrielle narrowed her eyes and, with a flick of her wand, magically painted a gag on Mrs Black. It didn't quite equal silence but the muffled shouts and the rattling of the frame as she tried to get it off were infinitely preferable to the usual commotion.

"Blimey," Ron said, "We've been trying to shut her up for years."

"I am sure she will find a way to remove it eventually, but perhaps she will think twice before she abuses your guests," Gabrielle said with a nonchalant shrug.

"We can only hope," Ron replied and guided Gabrielle back to the stairs.

Even if Ron hadn't told her, Gabrielle could have easily guessed that this was once Hermione's room. It wasn't girly and frilly but it was neat and clean and had a general air of efficiency: bed in the center of the room, two bedside tables crammed with books and a large wardrobe all laid out for easy use and to give maximum space. The photos of her with Ron, Harry and Ginny kind of gave it away too.

For some reason, knowing Hermione had once slept here put Gabrielle at ease. Hermione was a sensible person. Perhaps some of that sense would rub off on her.

"You got everything you need?" Ron said as he flung some towels on the bed.

"Yes, thank you." Gabrielle didn't want him to go. It was irrational but she felt that if he left then the day would really be over and in the morning it would be like ill advised kiss had never happened. In spite of the embarrassment and the fact that it was probably a mistake, it was a mistake she wanted to make again.

But Ron was already retreating out of the door.

"Goodnight then," she said in a small voice.

Ron stopped and drew along side her. With a concerned frown he said,"Really, are you okay?"

Okay, here was her chance to confront him. She sucked in a breath and...

Nothing.

Idiot girl, she told herself angrily. Perhaps Fleur had been right when she had called her a second-rate Delacour nerd.

"Gabby..." Ron said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Gabrielle said, "I'm fine. Goodnight."

There was a infinitesimal pause before Ron nodded. "Goodnight Gabrielle."

After Gabrielle closed the door Ron stood motionless for a long moment. He had been sure that she had been about to say something about what had happened. And he had made up his mind to say something to her. He didn't know what, though. Reassure her or... something. Actually it was probably just as well that she had cut him off because he had a track record in making a total fool of himself in this sort of situation.

He glanced at her door and wondered if he should knock and ask her just what she had meant by that kiss. But what did he think was going to happen? What did he want to happen? It was probably best not to think to much on that.

He was supposed to be taking care of Gabrielle and in the end he decided that it wouldn't be fair, so he wandered back downstairs and past Mrs Black's portrait.

Now that really was amazing. Some of the smartest witches and wizards of the day had passed by that painting but none had ever thought to try literally gagging the old crone.

"You do realise you just got bested by an eighteen year old," he told Mrs Black. Incensed, she turned an alarming shade of purple and shook her fist at Ron. "Maybe she'll think of a way to get you down for good. Then we can do what Sirius always wanted and burn you."

Mrs Black stilled and gave him a wide eyed look as if to say, "You wouldn't dare."

Actually, Ron probably wouldn't. There were strict rules about the disposal of portraits and destroying them were only allowed in exceptional circumstances. Still, there were plenty of people who had suffered Mrs Black's wrath and would be happy to testify against this particular portrait.

"Yep," Ron said to himself as he went back to the kitchen, "She's pretty damn smart."

Ron cleaned up the remnants of their meal and put away the chess set. He had beat Gabrielle rather too easily. Neither of them had really been concentrating and the pieces had more or less taken over the game, lamenting at the sorry state of the players.

Ron had been aware of Gabrielle shooting him unnerving little glances but he was still in a state of confusion. He didn't know how to act or what to say to put her at ease. The only thing he could think of to do was to take Hermione's parting advice to "Be kind, Ron". It was a glaringly inadequate response but the best he could stretch too at such short notice.

With a sigh he put away the parchment and quill Gabrielle had used to scribble a quick letter to her friend. She was one of the few people he had ever met who didn't think Pig was the "cutest owl ever". He supposed that was okay. After all, even he thought Pig was a bit of a stupid creature a lot of the time.

At that thought, Ron stopped what he was doing. Hang on. It was okay that she wasn't Pig's biggest fan? It shouldn't matter what she thought of the flying fluff-ball. It wasn't like she had to live with Pig!

Ron's sense of coherent thought was unravelling. He needed to sit down.

Luckily he was distracted from the obsessive thoughts that were gathering momentum by a green flare from the kitchen fireplace.

A dark haired figure stepped out and brushed soot off his robes.

"Hi," he said and sat down opposite Ron.

"Hi," Ron said confused. "What are you doing here?"

"Just got off duty," Harry explained. "Heard about the interesting events of earlier today."

"Interesting just about sums it up," Ron agreed.

"She okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you?" Harry said shrewdly.

"I'm fine," Ron said. "Why?"

"You just look a bit..." Harry tilted his head speculatively, "You look a bit like you did when the Cannon's drew against the Hurricane's last season. Like you couldn't decide if you were happy they didn't loose or upset they didn't win."

"Ha," Ron said dryly, conjuring up some butterbeers, "Funny. You should really think about going into stand up."

"Cheers," Harry said taking a bottle. "This is about Gabrielle."

"She kissed me," Ron admitted.

"And?"

"And that's it," said Ron, "Apart from the fact that I can't get her out of my head now. I hate it when Hermione's right."

Harry laughed. "She always did say Gabrielle had a crush on you. So what are you going to do now?"

"Nothing," Ron said. "I'm supposed to be looking after her."

"I suppose you're right," Harry said, "Shouldn't be for too long though. Christmas Eve's tomorrow so they'll be plenty of people to watch out for her from then on. Maybe she could go to your mum's."

"Yeah, maybe," Ron said unenthusiastically. Whatever half formed, half-witted plans he had about how to handle Gabrielle they certainly weren't doable under his mother's nose.

A moment of silence passed before Ron realised that Harry was smirking at him knowingly.

"Oi," he said. "This isn't funny."

"It is a bit, mate," Harry said. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone of your suffering."

Gabrielle changed into a pair of pyjamas that were far too short in the leg, but otherwise quite comfortable. She laid down on the bed and switched out the light.

She starred up at the ceiling and fidgeted. Sleep was a million miles away which frustrated Gabrielle to the extreme. She tossed and turned for a few minutes before sitting up and turning the lights back on.

She was thirsty. That's probably what it was. She would just nip downstairs and get a drink

As quietly as she could she crept out into the hallway and slipped down the stairs. Mrs Black squealed and gave an extra rattle in Gabrielle's honour. Gabrielle just stuck her tongue out in a childish gesture of triumph.

Then she stopped. Voices were coming from the kitchen. Ron and someone else were talking. She caught the end of a sentence from Ron, "...hate it when Hermione's right."

Gabrielle stole a little closer and listening in horror as the rest of the conversation unfolded.

Then she stepped away from the door and her expression hardened. It seemed she had underestimated just how ridiculously she had been behaving. Everyone knew that she liked Ron, including him, and Ron bore it out of duty or something!

Right, well it was time to end this. Gabrielle stalked back up to her room, ignoring the ache in her chest and swearing that she wouldn't inconvenience him any further.

TBC.

P.S. Thank you very much to x-.Hollie.-x, The French Dark Lord and Tara-Yo for reading and reviewing as the chapters have come out. You make me want to write faster!