AUTHOR'S NOTES: Another two weeks have come to pass, and once again it's time for me to post. Not a lot for me to say here, been sick for much of the last week, so I'm not feeling very chatty right now.
But, you people don't come here to listen to me talk, you come to read the story...so here it is. Chapter 11! Enjoy!
THANK YOU, KINDLY: As always, thanks to all my super-awesome reviewers for their 213 (at this time) reviews. And an even bigger thanks to CutewithAcapital-Q for being my beta. And thanks to my readers for being the wind beneath my wings.
DISCLAIMER: JKR's, not mine...cuz if it was, Ron would'a been the hero and Harry would'a been the selfish emo kid who...wait...that WAS Harry!
MIRROR, MIRROR
Chapter 11
"Reflected Aggression"
"Ah, Mr. Weasley…you're early. I must say, I underestimated you; I didn't think you could tell time."
Ron stood in Professor Snape's office at five-minutes-'til-seven, jaw firmly set as the greasy-haired Potions master insulted his intelligence with a perverse sense of glee. He knew that if he rose to Snape's bait and responded to the insult, the sadistic git would just add to his detention.
"I trust your essay on moonstones will be handed in on time…" Snape sneered from behind his desk.
"Sure it will; I started on it last night," Ron lied.
Snape glared at Ron without saying a word for more than a minute; neither did Ron. He just stood there, looking at the shelves along the wall behind Snape, lest he be drawn in by his goatee and get punished for staring again.
"Well? What are you waiting for, Weasley? Sit down!" Snape snapped, "I haven't got all night to dally with you."
Ron dropped down into the rickety old chair at the front of Snape's desk, causing it to creak dangerously. The Potions teacher immediately shoved a scroll of parchment, a quill, and an inkpot across the desk at him.
"You will be doing lines, Weasley," the professor said snidely, "You will write 'I must show my teachers the proper respect at all times'…"
Ron was elated; considering some of the detentions he'd had to serve during his time at Hogwarts, tonight he was getting off easy!
"…One thousand times," Snape finished, sneering at him.
So much for getting off easy; by the time he was finished writing his lines, his hand would be too sore for him to do any of his homework. Furthermore, going out to get any broom-time tonight would be out of the question; he'd never get out of detention before curfew went into effect.
Trying to locate Harry tonight would also, no doubt, be a bust. He had tried locating Harry on the Marauders' Map after dinner, but there were so many people at Hogwarts that it was very easy to overlook one name…which is what he must have done, because as Ron sat on his bed with the curtains drawn for privacy, he studied the map for over and hour and could find no sign of Harry Potter anywhere.
"What are you waiting for, Weasley, an engraved invitation? Begin!"
Ron was pulled from his thoughts by Snape yelling at him, and he immediately got to work on his lines. The quill Snape had given him was cut unevenly, so instead of gliding smoothly over the parchment, it dragged across the page, catching every once in a while and making the whole affair take even longer.
More than an hour had passed, and Ron was nowhere near done his thousand lines. To make matters worse, Snape had apparently decided to distract Ron by getting chatty.
"What do you know of the Dark Lord, Weasley?"
Ron looked up from his lines, wondering where this was heading.
"Same as most people, I reckon," Ron said, shrugging as he tried to concentrate on his lines and answer Snape's question at the same time, "Evilest dark wizard in history…began terrorizing the wizarding world thirty years ago…disappeared after his Killing Curse backfired against Harry Potter…found a way to live inside Professor Quirrell while he searched for the Philosopher's Stone…stopped again by Potter…found a way to come back in a new body this past June…and is currently plotting to take over the world while the Ministry pretends he's dead."
Ron finished telling Snape what he knew and the small office grew quiet, except for the scratching of Ron's quill across the parchment and the breathing of the two individuals occupying the room at the moment. After a minute or two, the silence grew unnerving and Ron looked up to find Snape gaping at him in surprise.
"What?" Ron asked, confused, "What'd I do now?"
"You obviously underestimate what 'most people' know about the Dark Lord, Weasley," Snape said, once he overcame his initial surprise, "He is a master of deception; convincing the wizarding world that he is no longer a threat is one of the Dark Lord's greatest victories. It allows him to operate from the shadows, biding his time until he is ready to strike. Most of the wizarding world's knowledge of the Dark Lord ends with his disappearance fourteen years ago. The fact that you know so much is positively astounding, as you've always struck me as quite the ignorant fool."
"Cheers," Ron said sarcastically, snorting at Snape's insult.
"Mind your cheek, Weasley," Snape hissed, "There are worse punishments I could devise than doing lines."
"Why are you asking me about You-Know-Who anyway?" Ron asked, scowling, "I'd think a bloke like you…former Death Eater and all…would know all there is to know about him." The way Ron emphasized the word "former" seemed to imply that, perhaps, he didn't think it was quite an accurate description of Snape's allegiance.
Snape jumped up out of his chair, black eyes looking furious, and leaned menacingly across the desk, "You're on dangerously thin ice, Weasley…I suggest you watch your step. Dumbledore may have asked me to keep an eye on you, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to abide you being 'funny'."
"Hold on…Dumbledore told you to keep an eye on me?" Ron looked up at the greasy-haired Potions master with an expression of complete consternation, "Why does Dumbledore want you watching out for me."
"You might be too stupid to understand your value, you insipient buffoon, but the headmaster is not. Your presence is necessary to fulfill the prophecy in order to defeat the Dark Lord, therefore the headmaster feels it is his job, and the job of all those loyal to him, to keep you alive."
"Wait a tick," Ron said, shaking his head, "Dumbledore told me to keep everything we discussed a secret. If it was so bloody important to keep it a secret, why'd he run off and blab it to you?"
"Perhaps Professor Dumbledore feared you would place your trust in the wrong people," Snape said with a leering sneer, "That blundering oaf Longbottom, perhaps. It is not your concern whom the headmaster has entrusted with the knowledge of your true identity; all you need concern yourself with is staying alive."
"Bollocks, it's not my concern! This is my neck we're talking about here!" Ron shouted, not caring that he was yelling at his Potions instructor, "You may be the Order's spy inside the Death Eaters, but that doesn't mean I trust you!"
Snape swooped down at Ron coming very close to him, hooked sallow nose nearly touching long freckled one. "Do not speak of that here, you imbecile! Hogwarts is not entirely safe…you never know who might be lurking about, trying to overhear your secrets. There may already be agents of the Dark Lord within these castle walls."
"Then maybe you should've Imperturbed the room," Ron bit back at him, "Even my mum knows to do that when she doesn't want anyone overhearing the stuff the Order discusses in private."
"How dare you…!" Snape snarled, his black eyes blazing, "I'll stomach no more of your impertinent swaggering tonight, Weasley…get out!"
"What about my detention?" Ron asked, pointing at the parchment on the desk.
"OUT!" Snape waved his wand and the parchment Ron had been scrawling his lines on ignited and vanished in a flash.
Ron jumped up out of his chair and made for the door before the enraged Potions master decided to set anything else on fire. He hurried up out of the dungeons and made his way back to the seventh floor and the safety of the Gryffindor common room.
It was still relatively early, only being about nine o'clock at night, so the common room was full-to-bursting with Gryffindors relaxing, doing their homework, or socializing in one manner or another. Ron decided to head upstairs to his dorm and once again check the Marauders' Map to see if he could spot Harry Potter.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Ron said as he touched his wand to the seemingly blank parchment in his hands. He was once again sitting on his bed up in the fifth-year boys' dormitory with the curtains drawn for privacy.
He began his search for Harry down in the Slytherin dungeons. He could see numerous familiar names like Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle, milling about the Slytherin common room, and Ron found himself fantasizing about being able to push his finger onto their names on the map and squish them like tiny ants.
Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini were in the Slytherins' fifth-year boys' dorms, but no sign of Harry Potter. There was no sign of him in any of the other dorms or anywhere else in the Slytherin dungeons.
Ron expanded his search to the dungeon corridors; he found Professor Snape moving quickly away from his office, no doubt in a foul mood thanks to their earlier conversation.
"Manky git," Ron mumbled.
For the next two hours, Ron checked and rechecked the map looking for Harry's name, coming up with absolutely nothing. It was after eleven, and his three roommates had gone to bed, one-by-one. Ron was about to give up on the search for Harry and get himself some sleep as well, when he saw something odd moving down the second-floor corridor towards the stairs.
There was a name above the set of footprints moving down the hall, but the name seemed to be smudged or something. It seemed as though the name began with an "H" and ended with an "R" but the rest of the name was unreadable.
Ron had never seen this particular name before on the map, but as he watched, whoever it was made their way down the stairs to the ground floor and then eventually down into the dungeons and eventually the Slytherin common room.
"That's got to be Harry," Ron said, poking at the garbled name with his wand, as if that would clarify the name once and for all. He watched the mysterious name move into the fifth-year boys' dorm almost confirming Ron beliefs, "Why the bloody Hell is his name all squiffy, I wonder."
The other three boys in the dorm were apparently sound asleep now as loud snores coming from their curtained beds were making it hard for Ron to concentrate. The final nail in the coffin of his concentration, however, was the sound of his sister's name being muttered by Neville Longbottom in a manner that made Ron incredibly uncomfortable…and just a little bit angry.
"Cheers, Nev," Ron growled sarcastically as he made his way out of the dorm and down into the common room.
The common room had cleared out during Ron's time up in the dorm, and while schoolbags and piles of books and chessboards and cards and gobstones remained strewn about the room in a haphazard manner, none of the students remained. It was blissfully quiet.
Ron settled down into one of the good armchairs by the fire, and unfolded the Marauders' Map once again. He studied the map, watching as the presumed Harry Potter apparently settled in for the night. Ron watched for the next hour, and the name did not move.
"Guess the evil little twit went to bed," Ron said to himself, yawning, "If my eyes were red like that, I'd want to give 'em a rest m'self. Mischief managed."
Ron tapped the map with his wand again, and the diagram of the castle and all the names disappeared, returning it to the appearance of a harmless bit of blank parchment. He yawned again, stretching, as he felt the day catching up to him; Ron's mind began to wander.
He'd been gone from his own dimension…his own world…for the better part of the last four days. He had no idea how things were going back home; he expected that his mum would be having a fit following his disappearance, and she'd no doubt be taking it out on his dad for letting him wander off. He wished there was some way he could get a message to them, to let them know that he was relatively okay.
Harry and Hermione were another matter entirely. Both of his best friends were angry with him at the time of his disappearance, though for completely different reasons. Harry was angry at everybody, for keeping him in the dark all summer, and had begun the habit of taking it out on him and Hermione, screaming at them whether it was their fault or not. Hermione was angry at him for his continual dislike of Viktor Krum.
"At least back home, she has the decency to pretend he's not her boyfriend."
Ron's thoughts shifted to the bushy-haired brunette from this world; she was actually dating Krum openly and unapologetically. Ron forced himself to face facts: no matter the universe, Ron Weasley wasn't ever going to be good enough for Hermione Granger.
Ron sighed and closed his eyes. The warmth of the fire in front of him was serving to make him more tired, and although he knew he really out to go back upstairs to his dorm and go to bed, the comfortableness of the chair he was in and the soothing warmth of the fire were making him want nothing more than to drift off to sleep right where he was.
He was just starting to nod off when something heavy suddenly landed in his lap. He jumped slightly and his eyes flew open as he became alert once again. Ron looked down at his lap and was understandably surprised to see the large ginger form of Crookshanks curling up and making himself comfortable in his lap.
"Bloody Hell, Crookshanks," Ron almost laughed, "What do you think you're doing?"
The big orange cat looked up at Ron with large yellow eyes bulging out of his squished-in face and started purring contentedly.
"You're a great barmy beast, you know that?" Ron said with a smile, reaching down to scratch the cat behind the ears. He missed Hermione so much that he was even willing to be nice to her cat.
Crookshanks made a noise that seemed to object to being called both barmy and a beast, but the cat made no effort to get up off of Ron's lap…especially since the redheaded boy was scratching him in a pleasing manner. With Ron still scratching him absentmindedly, the big cat eventually faded off to sleep.
It was late, and as little as Ron had felt like getting up to make the climb all the way up to the fifth-year dormitory, the weight of the massive furry cat across his legs made him want to move even less. Figuring that Crookshanks had the right idea, Ron closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
Ron made his way into the Great Hall and saw his entire family as well as Harry and Hermione seated at the Gryffindor table. Every sound in the hall was drowned out by the loud, keening wails of his bereaved mother.
"How could you let him go, Arthur?" his mother cried, tears pouring down her wrinkled face, "He wandered off and now I'll never see my Ronnie again! My baby is gone, Arthur, and it's all your fault!"
"I wasn't the one who made him run off," his father countered, pointing an accusatory finger at the bushy-haired brunette sitting between Ginny and Harry, "If not for Hermione fighting with him and making him feel sorry for himself, Ron never would have left."
"You filthy Muggle!" his mother screeched, jumping to her feet and leveling a hateful gaze at Hermione, "You cost me my son! I took you in and treated you like one of my own, and this is how you repay me?!"
"It's not my fault Ronald is so worthless and stupid that he chose to run away," Hermione replied haughtily with her nose in the air obstinately, "I think we're all well-rid of him."
"She has a point, Molly dear," his father said calmly, leading his wife back to her seat, "Plus, we do have Harry."
"Harry, of course!" his mother exclaimed happily, jumping to her feet once again and sweeping Harry up in a great crushing hug, "You've always been my favorite son, Harry dear, and now that there's an opening in the family, we can make you an official Weasley!"
Harry's head of shaggy black hair began changing, until it was a shockingly red mop of hair and his face began sprouting freckles. The rest of the family, and Hermione, looked on and applauded as Harry transformed into a Weasley right before their eyes.
"What is all this?" Ron yelled, making his presence known to his family for the first time since he entered the Great Hall.
"Go away, Ron, we don't need you anymore," his mother said, waving a dismissive hand in his direction as she planted a loving motherly kiss on Harry's cheek. She waved her wand, and Harry was suddenly dressed in a maroon Weasley jumper…his Weasley jumper.
"You've been replaced, ickle Ronniekins," Fred said with an evil grin…more evil than any grin either of the twins had ever sported before.
"We've got a hero for a brother, now," George added, his face just as evil-looking as his twin.
"And he's rich, too," Ginny said, looking admiringly at her 'new' brother, "No more hand-me-downs for the youngest Weasley son anymore!"
"Thanks for running away, Ron," redheaded Harry said with a huge smile on his now-freckled face, "Now I'm a true Weasley…and I've even got my prefect's badge, too!" Harry pointed proudly at the gleaming scarlet-and-gold badge on his maroon-clad chest.
"That's mine!" Ron protested, reaching out as if to grab the badge, "That's my sweater, too!"
"Not anymore," Harry laughed, shaking his head, "It's all mine now! If you'll excuse us, we're all going home to the Burrow so we can paint my bedroom maroon."
The Great Hall was filled with nine loud cracks as the entire Weasley family, including the newly Weasleyed Harry Disapparated.
"Apparition doesn't work on Hogwarts grounds!" Ron yelled, "It says so in Hogwarts, A History!"
There was a snide laugh behind him, and Ron turned to see Hermione sneering at him. She was dressed as she had been at the Yule Ball, but instead of looking beautiful, she looked cruel and hateful.
"Obviously, you never bothered to read the book, you thick-headed idiot," she laughed viciously, "Otherwise, you'd know it works for Harry Potter…everything works for Harry Potter!"
There was another loud crack and Viktor Krum appeared next to Hermione.
"It also vorks if you are rich," Krum laughed, taking Hermione's hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing it and causing Hermione to giggle uncharacteristically, "Everything vorks ven you are rich."
"Too bad you're poor and just a nobody," Hermione said, her eyes dancing mockingly, "Nothing ever works if you're a poor nobody."
"Herm-own-ninny," Krum said in an even thicker Bulgarian accent than usual, "I haff come to take you avay to my castle in Bulgaria, vare you and I vill live together forever."
"Take me, Viktor, I'm yours!" Hermione exclaimed, swooning.
Viktor gathered Hermione up into her arms and they kissed passionately for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, when they were finished snogging, the couple Disapparated with two explosive cracks, bringing the ceiling of the Great Hall crashing down on Ron's head.
"Hermione, no! Come back!" Ron yelled, dodging the debris as it rained down on his head, "Hermione!"
Ron suddenly felt a great piercing pain in his thighs that made him cry out.
"OWWWWW!" Ron yelled, his eyes snapping open to find himself back in the common room. He'd been dreaming…but the pain was real.
"Crookshanks, let go!"
As Ron's vision came fully into focus, he found the object of his dream standing over him, trying to extract Crookshanks from his lap. The big orange cat obviously didn't want to move, for its claws were dug firmly into Ron's thighs.
"Let go, Crookshanks…you'll wake him!" Hermione pleaded with her cat in a frantic whisper.
"Bloody Hell, woman!" Ron yelled, startling the girl, "Mind the claws!"
Hermione stopped trying to pull Crookshanks away when she realized that the cat was attached to a rather sensitive portion of Ron's anatomy. She blushed and looked away, letting go of her cat.
"I didn't mean to wake you," she said embarrassedly.
"I think that broom has flown," he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked around the common room and saw that it was still empty, except for the two of them and the cat.
Hermione had crouched down on the floor in front of Ron's chair, affording him the chance to study her close-up for the first time since his arrival. Everything about her was so much like his Hermione, and yet there was something that seemed so completely different.
It wasn't just her teeth, which had never been magically shrunken like they had on his world. The difference between the two Hermione was her bearing. The Hermione Granger he knew had a sort of confidence about her that this girl lacked. Sure, he'd seen his Hermione look this way…stubborn pride masking a sense of fragility…but he usually only saw it during the brief periods of their friendship when some stupid argument had alienated them.
Ever since the troll incident way back in First Year, the Hermione he knew had a strength about her that only faltered when the two of them weren't speaking. If he didn't know better, Ron would say that the girl before him lacked that strength because she didn't have Ron Weasley as her best friend.
"That's mental," he scoffed inwardly, "How could being my friend possibly make Hermione a stronger person?"
"You're staring at me."
Ron was ripped from his thoughts by Hermione's voice. She sounded uncomfortable and when he focused his attention back on what was going on around him, he noticed that she was blushing and looking away.
"I didn't mean to stare," he said, sounding slightly nervous himself, "I guess I'm just not used to being this close to you."
Her head whipped around to face him, and her eyes seemed to be shifting from hurt to anger in a matter of seconds. The rapid change was startling, as Ron saw her go from the confused, unsure girl he'd seen over the last two days back to the angry, hateful girl he encountered on his first night here.
"Well, I certainly don't mean to be invading your personal space," she snapped, "As soon as I retrieve my cat, I shall leave you in peace!"
Hermione started to get to her feet, but Ron grabbed her wrist to stop her.
"Calm down, Hermione," he said, trying to understand her reaction, "You're not invading anything…don't go!"
She looked up at him suddenly and their eyes met; warm, earthy brown and cool, ocean blue locked together in a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. They were less than a foot apart and Ron could see the warring emotions dancing in Hermione's eyes. He could see that she didn't know what to think of him.
Four years of animosity had hardened her to him. She wanted to hate him; to be indifferent to him, at the very least. She wanted to see him as nothing and nobody, but Ron could see the confusion, the conflict in her eyes. He'd given her some strange signals over the last couple of days and it was obvious she didn't know what to think. Her instinct, though, seemed to be to fall back on hostility towards him when in doubt.
"Get off me!" Hermione snapped, trying to pull free of his grasp, "How dare you put your hands on me?!" Crookshanks took this opportunity to abandon Ron's lap and watch the impending conflict from under one of the work tables across the room.
"I'm just trying to keep you from running off," Ron tried to explain, still holding tight to her wrist, "Merlin's beard, Hermione, you treat me like I'm Draco Malfoy or something!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and when she spoke, her voice was icy cold, "Maybe that's because, in my opinion, the only thing that separates you from Draco Malfoy is the house you were sorted into."
Ron's eyes widened; he couldn't believe she just said that. Her comment stung, but more than just hurting him, it angered him. His eyes narrowed just as hers had done and he gritted his teeth as he snapped at her.
"So I'm no better than Malfoy in your eyes?!"
It was a rhetorical question, she knew, but Hermione decided to answer anyway. "That's right," she said, jutting her chin out at him defiantly. She continued to struggle to get free, but his grip on her wrist was too strong. "You're both cut from the same cloth; you're just a pair of hateful little boys who care about nothing and no one but yourselves! It's surprising, really, that you're not best friends!"
"All I care about is myself?!" he yelled, inadvertently tightening his grip on her wrist and pulling her closer to him, "Whose cat did I pull out of a bloody toilet? Who did I stand up for in Care of Magical Creatures?"
"And I'm sure you've got an ulterior motive for that," she said haughtily, "No doubt, with OWLs coming up this year, you're trying to get on my good side so I'll help you with your studying."
"Help me with my --…?! You're delusional, Hermione; I don't give a damn about the OWLs! I did those things because I care about you!"
"Care about me?!" Hermione scoffed, laughing derisively, "Oh, please…you've spent the last four years making me wish I'd never received a letter from Hogwarts in the first place!"
"I…really?" Ron was so stunned to hear that, he let go of her wrist and felt all the fight and anger go out of him. It didn't matter that this wasn't his Hermione who felt that way, or that it wasn't really him she was talking about; the effect was the same. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I had no idea."
"Don't bother apologizing to me, Ronald Weasley, because I don't want to hear it," she replied, rubbing at her wrist where he'd gripped it too tight, "You've been horrible to me for four years and I'm supposed to believe that, all of a sudden, and for no reason whatsoever, you've started to care about my feelings?"
"I…" Ron didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't very well tell her the truth, that the Ron Weasley who'd hurt her is dead and he was a replacement Ron Weasley from another dimension. It sounded completely mental in his head.
"I've seen the way you treat the people you supposedly care about!" Hermione continued, her tone as cold as ever, "Neville's afraid to talk to you, and your own sister can't even stand to be in the same room with you…God only knows what you did to her."
"That's not my fault," Ron said lamely, "Hermione, please…"
"That's another thing," she snapped, "Since when are we on a first name basis, Ron? You've always just called me 'Granger' before."
"I…" he tried to think of an explanation that wasn't a lie, but at the same time didn't give away the truth about himself and his mission, "Things change, Hermione…people change. You have to believe me…I'm not the same Ron Weasley you've known all these years; I'm a completely different bloke entirely."
She laughed in his face as he said that. "The only thing I have to believe is that you either think I'm very gullible or very stupid to fall for that rubbish!"
"Hermione…"
"Stop!" she yelled, "Just stop it! All I want to do is get my cat and go to bed. Kindly leave me to it."
Hermione got up from her spot on the floor at Ron's feet and made her way across the room to the work table, trying to coax Crookshanks out from under it. The cat, stubborn as he was, however, refused to come out.
"Hermione, please don't go yet," he pleaded, getting up and moving after her, "We need to resolve this."
"There's nothing to resolve," Hermione said over her shoulder as she got down on her hands and knees and tried to fish her huge ginger cat out from under the table; he still refused to cooperate, "Now, please leave me alone so I can get my cat."
"Hermione, please…what can I do to make you believe that I want us to be friends?" his voice was full of sincerity, but as yet it appeared to be falling on deaf ears.
"What makes you think I want to be your friend?" she snapped nastily, "You made it very clear to me during our First Year that you didn't want my friendship. You called me a 'nightmare', remember?"
"Of course I remember," he said shamefully, looking away from her, "How can I ever forget that night? I nearly got you killed."
"What?" she looked up at the sound of remorse in his voice. He had his back turned, unable to look her in the eye.
"The troll," he said simply, "It nearly killed you because you were in that bathroom crying…all because of what I said to you."
"Yes, well, luckily your brother came looking for me," she replied, sitting back on her haunches and looking off into the fire, "Percy saved my life."
It took Ron a second to realize he was thinking about the way the events had played out on his world, and not how they had happened here for this Hermione. He recalled the memories of this world's Ron Weasley and how that night had happened for him.
"That's not what happened," Ron said, looking over at her briefly, but looking away before she could catch him, "I mean, Percy did save you, yeah, but he was only down there because he was chasing…err…me. Percy wanted to leave it to the head boy and head girl to go looking for you; if he hadn't seen me sneaking out of the common room, he never would've been anywhere near that troll."
"You expect me to believe that?" she snapped, jumping to her feet.
"You tell me," he snapped back unintentionally. She was lionizing his brother Percy…the brother who had abandoned his family, who wished he had never been born a Weasley. How could she sound like she admired him, of all people? "Which sounds more like that prat Percy? Doing things by-the-book when a problem comes along, or running off to play hero and risk his life for a first-year he barely knew?"
"Is that funny to you?" Hermione asked bitterly, "Trying to make me feel insignificant? The only reason I'm alive is because Percy happened to stumble upon me while he was chasing after you?"
"What? No!" Ron exclaimed, shaking his head. He'd hurt her feelings, he could tell, and he absolutely hated doing that, "Hermione, you're just about the furthest thing from insignificant that I can think of. Bloody Hell, 'Mione, if you were insignificant, would I have bothered coming to find you that night?"
"Why should I believe that you came after me?" she asked. She was obviously fighting back tears, "You've been so cruel to me over the years."
"The way I saw it, you…err…we were cruel to each other," he replied, thinking back on the memories he'd viewed the other night.
"Only because you started it," Hermione said, sounding a bit childish.
"Actually," Ron said with a half-smile, "If you want to know the truth…you did."
"What?!" she exclaimed, obviously put out by such an accusation, "I did not!"
Ron sighed; she could be so stubborn. "Do you remember when we met on the train?"
"Yes," Hermione nodded, "You tried to do a spell that didn't work. I think you were trying to turn your rat yellow."
"Yeah," Ron nodded, chuckling sardonically at the memory everyone could remember, no matter what dimension they originated from, "The twins gave me that spell…should've known it was rubbish. The point is, though, when you came into the compartment, you were really condescending and acted like you were better than me. Then, of course, you started going on and on about Harry Potter and all the books he's been in…you sort of treated me like an afterthought; talk about feeling insignificant."
"I didn't mean to act that way," Hermione replied defensively, her voice still possessing a slight edge, "I was nervous and desperate for people to like me."
"It kinda had the opposite effect," he sighed, "At least on me."
"So that's why you were so mean?" she asked as if the answer to one of the great mysteries of the universe had been presented to her.
"That's how it started, yeah," he said shamefacedly, "It all just sort of snowballed from there…until four years later, you think I hate you, and you 'nothing' me."
Hermione flushed with embarrassment when he said that to her, throwing her own words back in her face. "I shouldn't have said that; I'm sorry, Ron. I just…"
"You thought I did something to your cat," Ron said, as if explaining her actions away, "You were upset. I reckon I understand…though it's probably one of the worse things you've ever said to me."
"I really hurt you by saying that, didn't I?" she said, surprised at the sound of pain in his voice.
"It's fine, Hermione," he said, waving her off, "Just forget about it." It was obvious, though, that it wasn't fine. Truth be told, when Hermione had said that, Ron felt as though his heart had broken…though he wasn't about to confess that to her.
"I can't believe you'd be upset by something I said," she said, shaking her head, "I mean, since when does anything I say to you matter?"
"Like I said," he replied, looking off into the dying embers of the fire, "I'm not the same Ron Weasley you've known for the last four years; everything you say matters to me."
"You…you have changed," she admitted, "I can see that."
"You just don't know if it's a change for the better, yeah?" he said, putting words in her mouth, "You don't know if you can trust me."
"I didn't say that!" she exclaimed, sounding a bit frantic, "I just…you've been acting odd, and Neville's worried about you, and your own sister doesn't even want to hear your name mentioned. I mean, I don't know Ginny very well, but obviously you've done something…"
"It's a family matter," Ron said cryptically, hoping that would be the end of it, "I plan to take care of it soon."
"And Neville…?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"That was a misunderstanding," Ron said lamely.
"So you didn't attack him outside of Herbology?" she asked condescendingly.
Ron sighed in frustration, roughly running his fingers through his hair, "I'd just found out he wanted to date my sister; I overreacted."
"He's liked her since last year, you know," Hermione said as if talking to a small child, "It's why he asked her to the Yule Ball."
"It came as a shock, is all," he replied, feeling bad that he had attacked Neville, "He never said anything to me about it…dating her, I mean."
"Why should he have to?" she asked, her voice taking on the uppity tone that usually led to them arguing loudly, "Their relationship doesn't involve you; it's about them."
"You don't understand how things are in my family," he said, wishing they could talk about anything else besides his little sister and her love-life, "Ginny is the first girl born into the Weasley line in several generations; as a result, we…her brothers…have all been conditioned to protect her because she's the girl and the baby. I feel a bit overprotective now, because I feel like I let her down back during Second Year."
"What…you mean when you were petrified?" Hermione asked, "It wasn't your fault that you couldn't look out for her during that time."
Ron gave her a quizzical look. That hadn't been what he meant at all. He felt guilty for not paying more attention to his sister that year; he felt that his neglect of her led directly to her falling under the sway of Tom Riddle's diary. Of course, it didn't happen that way here, and once again, Ron had to force himself to stop thinking like himself and to start thinking like this world's Ron Weasley.
"Err…yeah. Yeah, that's what I mean. I was out for six months, and I feel like I abandoned her."
"Well, your other brothers could have looked after her," Hermione said, matter-of-factly, since she didn't know the truth, "Percy and the twins were perfectly capable of keeping an eye on her."
"Still…that's why I feel overly protective of Ginny," Ron said, shrugging. He didn't expect her to understand. He didn't expect anyone to understand.
"Well it's silly, isn't it?" Hermione scoffed, "I mean, I understand being protective, but you attacked your best friend because he had the gall to want to date your sister."
"Look, I'm sorry, okay?!" Ron snapped.
"Don't tell me, tell Neville!" she snapped back, "He's the one who's afraid of you now."
He sighed sadly. "I didn't mean to make him afraid of me…Hell, I don't know what I mean to do. There's just so much going on…"
"Well, sure the OWLs --…" she began, but he cut across her.
"Not the OWLs! I don't care about the bloody OWLs! I'll be lucky to be alive to take the bloody OWLs!"
"What? What do you mean?" she asked, looking concerned and confused.
"Nothing," he said, realizing that in his anger, he'd very nearly let the truth slip out, "I'm tired. Good night, Hermione."
Before Hermione could say another word, Ron ran up the stairs to the boys' dorm, mentally kicking himself for being so stupid as to nearly reveal everything to the bushy-haired brunette downstairs. The problem was, he'd always had a problem holding his tongue around Hermione…it was something he was going to have to work on from now on, lest he endanger his chances of making it back to his own dimension.
AUTHOR'S END NOTES: There you have it...a little Ron/Hermione time for all those people who've been desperately waiting for it. Does this solve all their problems? Look who yer askin'!
See you in two weeks!