Author's Notes: Okay, well, I have been trying to post this damn chapter since 8:30 PM Friday, but the FanFiction site just didn't want to let me put it up (called it a "Processing Error"). I reckon they must be run by some pinko Commie bastards (and if you happen to be a pinko Commie bastard, no offense)! Well, if you're reading this, I must have eventually got the damn thing posted, yeah? So, I guess there's no harm done (unless some of you out there had some sort of "episode" because your bi-weekly dose of Mirror, Mirror didn't come along as scheduled – I've been watching too many British movies…as I typed the word "schedule", in my head I heard it pronounced "shedule").
Do any of you out there know what next Friday is? One year ago this coming Friday, I posted the very first chapter of Mirror, Mirror up here on the ol' FF site. February 5th, 2010 will be the One Year Anniversary of this story!
Now, I've never had a story take more than a year to post (be glad I don't take more than a year to UPDATE, like some authors out there); my very first multi-chapter story (Aftermath) was done in just under five months…of course, I posted something like the first 32 chapters of that story in one month, so that's why that one ended so (relatively) quick. So, since it's been (almost) an entire year, I wanted to do something special for the One Year Anniversary of Mirror, Mirror getting started. More on what I intend to do at the end of the story.
For now, however, I hope you enjoy this chapter, where Ron has probably the worst Hogsmeade visit he's ever had in his life. I guess you'll just have to read on to actually see what I mean. And stay tuned…Ron's descent into the Chamber of Secrets is coming! I'm not really sure which chapter it will happen, but I can say with confidence that it will happen in either Chapter 21 or Chapter 22 (probably the latter).
Thanks: As usual, I want to offer my gratitude to all those valiant souls out there who've taken the time and made the effort to post reviews for this story. The story surpassed the 400 review mark last chapter (people were very vocal about the whole Mirror of Ytissecen business), and is well on its way to 500. I can hardly wait.
Special Thanks: And, also as usual, I want to say a heartfelt "ta" to my beta, CutewithAcapital-Q who does an excellent job helping me to fine tune this story. Thanks, Cute stuff!
Disclaimer: And now the final bit of bluster before we actually get to the reason you all came; I don't own any of this rubbish…it's all J.K. Rowling's, the world's first Billionaire Writer.
One Final Thing: Out of frustrationg with the "Processing Error" on FF, I posted this chapter on my LiveJournal last night. Some of you may have read it there, and if you did, I hope you enjoyed it. I also hope that, if you read it there, you'll still swing by and give me a review here (for those of you who are inclined to review).
MIRROR, MIRROR
Chapter 19
"Reflected Anger"
Following the blow-up with Hermione, Ron and Neville waited to be cycled through the queue for Hogsmeade in uncomfortable silence. Ron kept glaring off in the direction that Hermione had gone and Neville just continued to look anywhere but at his friend. Soon enough, they were allowed through the gates by Mr. Filch and they proceeded down the road to Hogsmeade. The silence continued until they reached the village, when Neville finally spoke up.
"Nothing quite like a visit to Hogsmeade, eh Ron?" Neville asked with a smile as they made their way through the village square, "So what do you want to do first…Zonko's or Honeydukes?"
"Doesn't matter to me," Ron said, shrugging. If he were honest, he would have told Neville that he didn't even want to come to Hogsmeade in the first place. The only reason he agreed to come was because sitting in the castle was an even worse option.
"You're usually a bit more excited about the first Hogsmeade trip, Ron," Neville interrupted his thoughts and brought Ron back to the matter at hand, "I've never seen you brood so much. Do you want to tell me what's bothering you now, or do you want to keep pretending that something's not eating at you?"
"Are those my only two options?" Ron asked, snorting derisively and drawing a smirk from his companion.
"I know how you are, Ron," Neville said, his smirk blooming into a smile as he slapped Ron on the back, "When you don't want to talk about something, you become such a bastard that it's much easier from the start to just pretend nothing's wrong."
"In that case," Ron replied, looking off into the distance, "Let's drop it already."
A few moments of awkward silence passed between the two teenagers before Neville spoke up again. "So…Zonko's or Honeydukes?"
Ron looked down and sighed, shaking his head. "Honeydukes; I could use some chocolate."
The pair moved down the street to the crowded sweets shop. They had to struggle to get inside the building, as it seemed as though every Hogwarts student allowed to be in Hogsmeade was, at that moment, inside Honeydukes.
Despite the sweet-tooth paradise that was Honeydukes, Ron's heart just wasn't in it. Ordinarily, he'd be happy to wander around the shop for hours, taking in all the sights and smells of the Wizarding world's premiere confectionary shop, but today he just wanted to get in and get out. There were too many people around, and while he didn't fancy the idea of being stuck inside the castle with just his thoughts to drive him mental, he didn't like the idea of being surrounded by so many happy people while he was bloody miserable.
Deciding to forego ogling the sweets he could not afford, Ron grabbed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and a handful of Chocolate Frogs and made his way immediately to the counter in order to pay for his sweets and then leave, secure in the knowledge that Neville would catch him up at some point.
Unfortunately for Ron, he wasn't the only one ready to pay for his purchases; a shopping basket stuffed full of sweets and a head full of platinum-blonde hair told Ron that he should have waited a bit before queuing up to check out. Before he could move out of line, however, that nearly-white head turned and Ron found himself glaring into the pointy-chinned face of Draco Malfoy.
"Why, hello, Weaselbee!" Malfoy said brightly with a wicked gleam in his cold, grey eyes, "Doing your family's food shopping for the month are you?"
"Sod off, Malfoy," Ron said through gritted teeth. He didn't want to rise to Malfoy's bait inside the crowded store, but he knew it would be nearly impossible to keep his temper in check for much longer; his emotions were too raw and close to the surface right now.
"That's not very friendly, Weasel," Malfoy quipped, grinning maliciously, "Didn't your fat lump-of-a-mother teach you to be nice…especially to your betters?"
A growl rose in his throat and Ron dropped the meager handful of candy he was going to buy as he reared back with his fist, ready to make Malfoy pay for that comment. Seeing what was coming his way, the Slytherin boy slipped his hand inside his robe pocket and brought out his wand, a painful and potentially fatal hex already forming on his lips.
"Oy! There'll be none of that nonsense in here!" Ambrosius Flume, the shop's proprietor yelled, "You want to duel, you take it outside!!"
"I'd watch my back if I were you, Weasel," Malfoy said with a laugh, "You won't always be in such a crowded place." Malfoy paid for his basket full of sweets and left the shop, leaving Ron standing at the counter, glaring hatefully at his retreating form, his handful of sweets lying at his feet. Neville came up and patted him on the shoulder, bringing Ron back to his senses.
"Come on, Ron," Neville said, crouching down to pick up Ron's candy and deposit it in his own basket piled high with sweets, "There are more shops for us to visit. No need to ruin a perfectly good Hogsmeade trip just because of a run-in with that jumped-up evil git."
Neville paid for their candy and they left Honeydukes. They walked the streets of Hogsmeade in silence for several minutes until Neville once again spoke up.
"My Gran says it doesn't matter how many galleons a person is worth," he said nervously, as the Weasleys' financial status was a well-known sore spot with Ron, "What really matters is the worthiness of their character. She says she'd rather be friends with people like your parents than with a thousand people like the Malfoys."
"Your Gran…" Ron began angrily, his head snapping up to glare fiercely at Neville. He was about to say something along the lines of, "Your Gran is a hag who needs to mind her own sodding business!", but seeing the look on Neville's face and the sincerity in his eyes, Ron stopped himself. "Your Gran's a nice lady, Nev. And she's got a pretty good bloke for a grandson."
Neville smiled brightly at this and Ron clapped him on the shoulder.
"Come on, mate," Ron said, sounding more cheerful than he felt, "Let's check out the Quidditch shop; they have some Keeper gloves I can't afford that I want to drool over."
Ron knew there was a chance that he'd run into Malfoy again in the Quidditch shop, but he couldn't let that albino little ferret ruin his day. Not when so many other things were conspiring to do just that. Unbeknownst to Ron, one of those things was currently inside the Quidditch shop.
The Hogsmeade Quidditch shop, Quaffle Stop, wasn't anywhere near as large as Quality Quidditch Supply in Diagon Alley, and it didn't carry nearly as much merchandise as the larger store; however, it was the only store of its kind in the village and with four school teams and countless other Quidditch aficionados amongst the student body, the store did a fair business. Even so, the Quidditch shop wasn't nearly as crowded as the sweets shop had been, and Ron could see almost right away that Malfoy was not inside. What surprised him, however, was that Hermione was.
She looked bored and unhappy and kept fidgeting with her hair and tugging up on the neckline of her robes. It was obvious she was uncomfortable in the uncharacteristic clothing she had on, and Ron was tempted to walk over and gloat.
"I think the gloves are over this way," Neville said, bringing Ron out of his thoughts as he walked down an aisle full of leather pads and protective gear.
Ron followed his friend, although he really didn't care; looking at Quidditch supplies…doing anything, really…had lost all interest for Ron, and all he really wanted to do was go somewhere private and brood in peace. This instinct became more pronounced when Ron heard a familiar, much-hated voice.
"I haff found vot I vos looking for, Herm-own-ninny. Ve can go now."
Ron's head snapped around so fast he nearly got a crick in his neck as he saw none other than Viktor Krum lumbering towards Hermione, a Barney Boom's Broom Booster – a high-end broom upgrading kit – tucked securely under his arm. Hermione smiled as the Bulgarian approached her, and that made Ron scowl hatefully.
"You really do look vunderful in those robes, Herm-own-ninny," Krum said, allowing his eyes to roam up and down Hermione's body as he put his arm around her, "You should vare more things that show off your figure."
"What the bloody Hell is he doing here?" Ron growled as Neville moved back to his side to see why the redhead hadn't followed him.
Neville followed Ron's gaze to see what exactly it was that he was growling about now.
"Viktor?" Neville replied, "He came to visit Hermione. You heard us talking about that up at the gates, Ron."
Ron's eyes narrowed as he watched Hermione and Viktor clasp hands and walk towards the checkout queue. "Doesn't make it any easier to stomach," Ron grumbled.
"So Hermione is dating your Quidditch idol," Neville said, shrugging, "Big deal. Let's go look at those gloves. I still want to hit The Three Broomsticks for a warm Butterbeer before I go off on my date with Ginny."
"What can she possibly see in him?!" Ron asked, unable to understand Hermione's attraction to the Bulgarian.
"I don't know; he's rich, famous, older, and more mature…who knows what it could be?" Neville said, flashing Ron a knowing smile as he turned towards a nearby rack of Quidditch magazines and began flipping through them, "Why…are you jealous?"
"I'm not jealous," Ron snapped as he watched the couple leave the shop, "I just think she's too good for that pumpkin-headed git, that's all."
A sharp bark of laughter drew Ron's attention back to Neville who stood there with a bemused look on his face. "Are you ready to admit that you fancy her, yet?"
"No," Ron said flatly. He turned on his heel and made his way down the aisle away from Neville. He stopped when he reached the Keeper's gloves and feigned interest in the hopes that Neville would stop talking about Hermione.
"Come on, Ron, it's okay to like her," Neville said, catching up to Ron, "You don't have to pretend on my account…I'm not into Hermione anymore."
"See you back at the castle, Nev," Ron said as he walked past the dumbfounded boy and made his way out of the shop. The last thing he needed was to listen to Neville bang on and on about Hermione. Whether he fancied her or not…and Ron was not willing to admit to either one…nothing could develop between them; this was not Ron's world and he would, theoretically be going home eventually. The fact that the Hermione Grangers of both worlds preferred Viktor Krum to him was just too depressing for Ron to think about.
Ron was just reaching the outskirts of Hogsmeade when a noise in the woods off to the side of the road drew his attention. It was the sound of a twig snapping, as if stepped on by a heavy foot. Snapping twigs weren't unusual for the forest, and Ron probably wouldn't have even heard it or paid it any mind if all of the natural sounds one expects to hear in a woodsy setting – birds chirping, small animals chittering and scurrying through the brush and tree branches – weren't completely absent.
It was a really eerie feeling; unnerved by the unnatural silence and the sudden snapping twig, Ron whirled around to face the forest, his wand in his hand and already pointing towards the trees. He stood there for over a minute with the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and a nervous, anxious feeling crawling up-and-down his spine.
When he saw nothing and heard no other sounds of movement, Ron put his wand away…though the uncomfortable feeling of being watched remained. Ron had just turned his attention back to the road leading to Hogwarts when a chorus of voices called out at the same time.
"EXPELLIARMUS!!"
Ron managed to turn just in time to see three bolts of energy streak out of the woods a split second before all three slammed into his chest. The last thing Ron remembered before everything went black was the oddly thrilling sensation of flying through the air without the aid of a broom, and then having that sensation cut painfully short as the back of his head crashed at great speed into something that felt agonizingly tree-like.
"He really is lazy, isn't he?"
"You're telling me! Look at him just lying there, pretending to be injured. Slacker!"
Ron looked up to see two Hermione Grangers looking down at him disapprovingly. They were both obviously Hermione, but they weren't identical. The one on the left looked every bit the Hermione he remembered with her bushy hair and school robes, while the one on the right had her hair done up, wore makeup, and was dressed in clothing that complimented her body in a way that was obviously meant to attract male attention.
"Hermione…?"
"Well-spotted, Ronald," the one on the left scoffed.
"He really is thick, isn't he?" Right-side Hermione asked with disdain, "Lazy and stupid! No wonder he let himself be attacked."
"Well, he always was more of a sacrificial pawn than a heroic knight," Left-side Hermione said, talking about him like he wasn't even there.
"I suppose that's why his brother had to save me from the troll," the Right one said, sighing and shaking her head, her eyes full of scorn.
"Ooh, which brother?" cooed the Left one, "Oh, I don't suppose it matters, really…all of his brothers are so much better than him!"
"It was the one with glasses," Right Hermione replied, "It was Percy."
"Percy's the best of the whole lot!" Left Hermione exclaimed dreamily, "Prefect, then Head Boy, and now Junior Assistant to the Minister himself; Percy's got intelligence and ambition…unlike Ronald…and Percy has power. I've always been attracted to power."
"Fame is attractive, too," chimed in the Hermione-on-the-right, "Like our boyfriend, Viktor Krum; he's rich and famous and talented and he's an International Quidditch star. Ronald will never be any of those things."
"Do you know what isn't attractive?" Hermione-on-the-left asked. The question seemed to be aimed at her double, but her eyes – which seemed unusually cruel – were focused directly on him, "Stupid, lazy redheads who were only chosen to be prefect because their best friend had more important things to worry about."
"I agree; he's probably the most unattractive thing I've ever seen," Right-hand-Hermione laughed, her makeup-highlighted eyes shining with the same cruelty, "I wish he'd go away."
"At least your world's Ron Weasley had the courtesy to die; this one won't take the hint!" Left-hand-Hermione remarked, scowling wickedly, "He needs to snuff-it already so I can have Harry all to myself."
"Yeah, Ron…cark it, already!"
Two Harry Potters now came into view, their green eyes flashing evilly. The Harry-on-the-left had a head of shaggy hair and looked just as Ron remembered him. The Harry-on-the-right had slicked-back hair reminiscent of Draco Malfoy and his lips were drawn up in a vicious smirk.
"Once you're out of the way, Dumbledore can give me my prefect badge back," Left-hand Harry sneered, "And Hermione can give me all her attention; I hate having to share her with you."
"Everyone is better off without you, Weasel," Right-hand Harry added, "You had the good sense to die on our world and look: Granger's free to date Krum and I'm able to enjoy my wealth without feeling guilty."
Ron glared up at the two Harrys and then his eyes widened as all four of the people standing over him took out their wands and spoke in unison:
"Why don't you just die? Die! DIE!!"
Flashes of green light leapt forth from each of the wands and rocketed straight towards Ron.
Ron's eyes flew open and he found himself gasping for air. He tried to sit up, but the sudden explosion of pain that seemed to start in his head and quickly extend to the rest of his body followed by rapid-fire white flashes behind his eyes convinced Ron to lay back down. His head was swimming now and he felt dizzy and slightly nauseous.
"Try not to move, Mr. Weasley," came a voice from across the room. Having spent plenty of time in the school's hospital wing as either a patient or a visitor, Ron recognized the voice of the school matron, Madam Pomfrey, right away.
"Wuh happened?" Ron asked groggily.
He was having a hard time getting his eyes to focus, but Ron felt it was pretty obvious at this point that he was lying in one of the beds in the hospital wing. His whole body was sore and Ron felt as if an entire herd of hippogriffs had trampled him.
"I was hoping you could tell me," Madam Pomfrey said as she moved over to stand next to his bed, "You were found lying unconscious in a ditch on the side of the road leading to Hogsmeade."
"What?!" Ron tried to sit up and question the school nurse, but she placed a firm hand on his chest in order to keep him lying down.
"Don't move, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said, her voice stern, "You've suffered several broken bones and a good deal of head trauma, and sudden movements could exacerbate the injury."
"Zazzerbate, right," Ron mumbled, barely intelligibly as he sank his head back into the pillow, "'M dizzy…"
"To be expected," Madam Pomfrey replied, "Now, lie still while I fetch the potions you'll need to take."
Ron closed his eyes, hoping the dizziness would lessen in the process. It didn't work, however, and Ron found himself overcome with a powerful wave of nausea.
"Gonna…vomit…" Ron groaned as he felt his stomach coming undone. He started to roll over onto his side – not wanting to throw up on himself – when suddenly Madam Pomfrey was back at his side.
"Drink this quickly, Mr. Weasley," the nurse said, pushing a potion to his lips, "It will settle your stomach and reduce the dizziness."
Madam Pomfrey helped him to sit up, taking great care to make sure that his movements were slow and measured. He downed the potion rather shakily, but as soon as he did, the queasiness was gone.
"Thanks…" Ron muttered as he tried to lie on his back again.
"One moment, Mr. Weasley, there are other potions I need to administer," the nurse informed him, setting half-a-dozen potion bottles down on the bedside table. Ron groaned and rolled his eyes, wishing he hadn't regained consciousness.
When he had downed the various potions (one for blood replenishing, one to reduce pain and bruising, one to strengthen the bones that had been mended by the nurse's wand, one to reduce cranial swelling, one for over-all health and wellness while his body healed, and one a dreamless sleep draught so he could rest and allow his body to mend), Ron laid back and was just starting to doze off.
"Mr. Weasley, if you're so inclined, I thought you might like to have a visitor," Madam Pomfrey said, bringing him out of his near-slumber, "I wouldn't ordinarily allow visitors until you've had some rest…but he'll be leaving shortly, and he is rather famous in Quidditch circles – and I know how much Quidditch matters to young men – and he did save your life."
Ron slowly moved to a somewhat sitting position. The sleep draught he'd taken was well on its way to working. He cast a drowsy look towards the silhouette of the visitor walking around the curtained partition that gave him some privacy. His eyes went wide as the last person he'd ever expected came walking into view: Viktor Krum. At that point the Dreamless Sleep Draught kicked in and Ron fell into darkness.
Ron wasn't sure how long he had been out; that was the thing with Dreamless Sleep Draught – with no dreams to pass the time while you're unconscious, it seems as if you're only out for a moment before waking up feeling completely refreshed. Ron did notice that it was now light outside, and he was fairly certain it had been dark when he took the potion.
Ron thought, perhaps, he might have been hallucinating when he had come to in the hospital wing, prior to being given the various potions to help heal his injuries. He remembered Madam Pomfrey saying something about Viktor Krum saving his life, but that had to be some sort of delusional episode caused by his head trauma; after all, there's no way the universe was cruel enough to play a sick joke like that on him: owing his life to Viktor-sodding-Krum? No way!
"Ah, Mr. Weasley…you're up," Madam Pomfrey said as she bustled into view carrying a tray of potions, "The headmaster has been waiting to speak with you."
The matron administered the potions and presented Ron with porridge and toast for breakfast before she tottered off to retrieve Professor Dumbledore. Ron had already wolfed down his meager breakfast in the two minutes it took Dumbledore to arrive – not surprising, considering Ron hadn't eaten since breakfast the previous day.
"You're looking quite a bit better than you did yesterday," the old wizard said as he came to stand by Ron's bed, "I'm glad to see you're doing so well, Mr. Weasley."
"Reckon I was unconscious last time you saw me," Ron grumbled.
"Quite," Dumbledore agreed, "Do you remember what happened to you, Mr. Weasley?"
"Before or after I was attacked on my way back from Hogsmeade?" Ron asked bitterly.
"Did you see who attacked you?" Dumbledore asked, ignoring Ron's sarcasm.
"Their faces were hidden," Ron said, shaking his head as he thought back to the last few moments before everything went black, "There were three of them in black hooded robes; it seemed like they were hiding in the woods, waiting for me to pass by."
"This is most troubling," Dumbledore said, frowning gravely, "Students being attacked would be bad enough, but considering your importance --…"
Before Dumbledore could finish his statement, the doors to the hospital wing burst open and Professor Umbridge scurried in, her cheeks flush and an excited look in her bulging, beady eyes.
"Ah, Dumbledore; I've been looking for you," Umbridge said in a giddy squeak, "I understand that a student has been attacked. I do hope this is not a false-alarm like last time."
Ron had a pretty good idea that "last time" referred to him attacking Harry in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. With him being invisible and Harry escaping into the Chamber of Secrets, there was no proof that an attack had occurred…other than Myrtle, herself – who no one believed.
Umbridge seemed overjoyed that a student had been attacked and was now residing in the hospital wing to serve as proof that the attack did, in fact, occur. That, or she was just glad that he had been attacked. She looked at Ron with undisguised glee in her eyes as he sat in his bed looking very much the-worse-for-wear.
"As you can see, Dolores," Dumbledore said, motioning towards Ron, "Mr. Weasley is, most assuredly, not a 'false-alarm'."
"According to his school records, Dumbledore," Umbridge said with a sneer aimed at Ron, "Mr. Weasley has a history of mysterious injuries that have landed him in the hospital wing. How can we be sure this was not just another in his series of accidents, instead of an actual attack?"
"I was bloody well ambushed by three blokes in hoods!" Ron yelled, regretting it almost immediately as his head began pounding dizzyingly.
"You have no proof!" Umbridge shouted, pointing a stubby finger at him accusingly, "I've seen the way you skulk around this school, loitering in unused hallways and sneaking into girls' lavatories – you're an accident waiting to happen!"
"Actually, Dolores," Dumbledore said, drawing her attention away from Ron, "We do have two witnesses to Mr. Weasley's attack."
"Well, then, Dumbledore," Umbridge said haughtily, "Since I have been assigned by the Minister himself to investigate safety conditions here at Hogwarts, I insist on being allowed to speak with these witnesses."
"Of course, Dolores," the headmaster replied, bowing slightly, "Far be it from me to interfere with Cornelius' duly-appointed representatives. I shall summon the witnesses directly."
Dumbledore made his way out of the hospital wing, leaving Ron and Professor Umbridge alone to glare at each other.
"I know all about you and your family of blood traitors," Umbridge somehow managed to hiss in her falsely cheerful too-high voice, "Your father is a disgrace to pureblood wizards everywhere! Consorting with Muggles and Mudbloods…he should be ashamed; you should all be ashamed! If Cornelius…if the Minister had his way, he'd --…"
Before the pink-clad, toad-faced witch could reveal what would happen if Cornelius Fudge had his way, Dumbledore returned, entering the hospital wing with Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger on his heels.
Ron's hateful glare that was aimed at Umbridge was traded for a look of shocked incredulity when he saw Hermione and Krum following Dumbledore. They weren't the witnesses he had mentioned…were they? Suddenly, Madam Pomfrey's words about Viktor Krum saving his life flashed in his head, and Ron knew that, yes, these were the witnesses.
"Are these the witnesses?" Umbridge asked with undisguised disdain, "A Muggleborn and a foreigner?"
Dumbledore frowned at Umbridge's open-faced bigotry, "Miss Granger is not only a top student, but a prefect as well; and Mr. Krum, besides being internationally known for his Quidditch skills, was a Triwizard champion last year."
"Fine, very well," Umbridge said, relenting, "If these are the only witnesses available, then so be it. You…Bulgarian…what did you see?"
Viktor's thick black unibrow furrowed as he concentrated on remembering the previous day's events. "I vos valking Herm-own-ninny back to the castle…she vos cold and vonted something vormer to vare. Ve had been valking along the road ven ve spotted three people in robes standing over a body. It vos --…"
"Hem, hem" Umbridge interrupted, clearing her throat in that squeaky little girl voice she used, "I am sorry, Mr. Krum, but is that English you're speaking? I'm afraid I can't understand a word you're trying to say."
Ron almost laughed at the incredulous and embarrassed look on Krum's face. Had it not been Umbridge insulting the Bulgarian, he'd have enjoyed seeing it happen. However, since Umbridge had rapidly climbed to the top of his list of most-hated people, Ron couldn't help feel something akin to sympathy for Krum at the condescending way that Umbridge spoke to him.
If Ron felt sympathy for Viktor – though he'd never admit it – then Hermione, judging by the look on her face, felt outrage. It was odd, seeing her made up the way she was, with her hair done up in an attractive style once again, shooting daggers at Umbridge with her deep brown eyes.
"What Viktor said, Professor," Hermione snapped, "Is that three hooded individuals were standing over Ron's body off to the side of the road when we came along. The two larger individuals didn't speak, but the third one seemed to be taunting Ron. They all had their wands out and looked to be about ready to hex him, and as soon as they heard us coming up the road they ran off into the woods."
"What I'm hearing is that neither one of you actually saw Weasley being attacked," Umbridge stated, looking back-and-forth between Hermione and Viktor, "He could have simply fallen down and those three individuals in hood could have been trying to help him until you arrived and scared them away."
"Or, they could have been bloody Death Eaters trying to kill me!" Ron shouted from his bed.
"Death Eaters?" Umbridge giggled condescendingly in her disturbing little girl voice, "All the Death Eaters were arrested or killed fourteen years ago; there are no Death Eaters anymore, you foolish boy! And if there were still Death Eaters around these days, why would they want you dead, of all people?"
"Why, indeed?" Dumbledore asked, shooting Ron a significant look that told the redhead that he was dangerously close to revealing too much information.
"Err…well…you know," Ron shrugged, trying to cover yet another gaffe, "I come from a family of blood traitors; Death Eaters…and other bigots…hate us as much as they do Muggleborns." Ron glared directly at Umbridge when he said "other bigots", letting her know without a shadow of a doubt that he was talking about her.
"It's understandable, then, isn't it?" Umbridge said with a malicious smile and a disturbing squeak in her voice, "That proper wizards would want to attack you for the disgraceful manner in which your father has betrayed his pureblood status. Completely understandable."
"I hardly think the attack on Mr. Weasley can be termed 'completely understandable', Dolores," Dumbledore said sternly, "Any attack on a student is entirely unacceptable; I would hope that Cornelius would think so, as well."
"I believe that I'm a much better judge of what the Minister thinks than you are, Dumbledore," Umbridge said, her squeaky voice wavering with undisguised contempt, "However, if you're concerned that other students might be in danger, then I believe the prudent move would be to cancel all future Hogsmeade visits until further notice."
"What?!" Ron exclaimed, nearly jumping up out of bed, "That's mental!"
"You can't do that," Hermione gasped eyes wide in shock.
"I think you'll find, Miss Granger," Umbridge sneered, "As Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic and duly-appointed safety inspector for Hogwarts, there are many things I can do."
"I do not think canceling all future Hogsmeade visits is quite necessary, Dolores," Dumbledore said, "However, additional security during visits to the village may be in order."
"And I suppose you'll expect the Ministry to provide this 'additional security'?" Umbridge squeaked haughtily.
"If the Minister cannot be troubled to find a way to make the children of Wizarding Britain safe, Dolores," Dumbledore said pointedly, "I'm sure that I could recruit some associates of mine to do so…voluntarily, of course."
Umbridge's eyes widened before narrowing into an icy glare, "Are you threatening the Minister, Dumbledore?"
"Not at all, Dolores," Dumbledore said with a wry smile, "I'm merely stating the fact that, while preferred, the Minister's assistance in this matter is not entirely necessary."
"I don't know what you're playing at Dumbledore," Umbridge said, her voice low and threatening, "But you would do well to remember that you are not as untouchable as you might think; you are not beyond the reach of the Ministry…no one is."
Without another word, Dolores Umbridge turned on her heel and stormed out of the hospital wing, the staccato click-clacking of her pink heels echoing off the stone walls as she disappeared into the distance.
"Toad-faced old crone," Ron grumbled once Umbridge was gone.
"Ronald!" Hermione gasped in exasperation, "She may be completely horrible, but she is still a teacher; you should show her some respect...especially in front of the headmaster!"
"Now, now, Miss Granger...I didn't hear a thing," Dumbledore said with a wink and a smile, "Ravages of age, you understand. I've gone temporarily deaf."
Ron grinned cheekily at Dumbledore before sighing and rolling his eyes at Hermione. "Come off it, 'Mione, even you don't want to show that puffed-up pink hag any respect."
"Be that as it may, Ronald," Hermione said in a voice Ron recognized from the many times his Hermione nagged him about getting his homework done on time, "I still show Professor Umbridge respect…even if she doesn't deserve it."
"Herm-own-ninny…"
The sound of Viktor Krum calling Hermione's name broke into the familiar – to Ron, at least – back-and-forth bantering they'd once again fallen into, and drew their attention to the brooding Bulgarian.
"Oh, yes…of course, Viktor," Hermione said, blushing as though she had completely forgotten that he was there, "You have to be leaving soon."
"Yes," Krum nodded, "Vunce I am having a new Portkey."
"Of course, Mr. Krum," Dumbledore said brightly, placing a hand on Krum's shoulder, "If you will just follow me to my office, I shall arrange a new Portkey for you directly; it's the least I can do since you were good enough to miss your Portkey in order to remain at Hogwarts long enough for us to get something of a grasp on what occurred yesterday."
Dumbledore and Krum started to leave the hospital wing when Viktor turned back to face Hermione. "Herm-own-ninny, are you coming?" he asked, arching his unibrow at her.
"Oh…err…I thought…maybe someone should keep Ron company," she said, blushing, "At least until someone else comes up to visit."
"Vy?" Krum asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, "Vot is going on?"
"Viktor! Nothing is going on," Hermione laughed nervously, "Now, go get your Portkey; you're already twelve hours late returning home, and if you're much later you might miss practice."
Krum grunted and nodded curtly in her direction. Before he turned and left, he shot Ron an odd look that the redhead was still trying to interpret several moments later as he and Hermione lapsed into silence.
"I don't think your boyfriend likes you spending time with me," Ron said nearly a minute later, shattering the deafening silence in the hospital wing.
"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked, though she did not disagree with Ron's statement.
"Well, there's that look he gave me before he left, for one," Ron said, doing his best to imitate the expression on Viktor's face before he left the hospital wing with Dumbledore. His efforts only served to break Hermione out in laughter.
"I don't think he looked quite like that," she said, smiling.
"Well, I reckon it's impossible to get the full effect when I've got two eyebrows," he said, waggling his eyebrows to show of their separate nature.
"That's not very nice," Hermione said, failing to hold back her laughter, "Viktor comes from a very hirsute family."
Ron snorted out a laugh. He didn't exactly know what "hirsute" meant, but it sounded enough like "hair suit" that he found himself picturing Viktor and his parents walking around, duck-footed, in hairy suits reminiscent of something that Hagrid would be seen wearing when trying to look "dressed up".
"Actually, I think the look Viktor gave you," Hermione said, getting serious now, "Was partly due to the fact that he remembers how dreadfully you've treated me in the past, and partly due to the fact that you just called me ''Mione' in front of him."
"I did?!" Ron gasped, eyes widening in shock, "Bloody Hell, 'Mi--…err…Hermione…I didn't mean to; it just sort of slipped out."
"I've noticed that with you," Hermione replied sternly, "You tend to speak without thinking, and things 'slip out' that you don't mean to talk about."
"I said I was sorry," Ron said, feeling properly chastised.
"I know," Hermione said, nodding, "I accept your apology."
Despite the apology, things grew awkward between Ron and Hermione, and they soon fell back into an uncomfortable silence; they each kept glancing over towards the hospital wing doors, as if waiting…or wishing…for Dumbledore and Viktor to return.
"I reckon I should thank Krum for buying you those robes you had on yesterday," Ron said, breaking the silence. He was looking down at his folded hands in his lap, unable to bring himself to look at Hermione.
"What? Why do you say that?" Hermione asked, sounding nervous.
"If you hadn't gotten cold, you wouldn't have been on the way back to the castle when I got attacked," he explained, "Who knows what those wankers would've done to me."
"Oh, that," she replied, blushing, "I told Viktor I was cold, but the truth is I was just uncomfortable. Remember how I told you Seamus and Dean whistled at me in those robes? Well, a lot of other boys – and some rather questionable men – did, as well, and what started out as flattering quickly became embarrassing and insulting…especially when the comments became more and more suggestive. And then there was what Malfoy called me."
"What did that little ferret say?!" Ron growled, his blue eyes flashing with undisguised hatred of Malfoy.
Hermione blushed heavily and looked down at her lap where she was wringing her hands anxiously. "He called me a…a 'Mudslut'."
"That effing little bastard! I'll kill him!!" Ron shouted, feeling like jumping out of bed again, but this time to rush down to the Slytherin dungeons, then rip Malfoy's arm off and beat him to death with it.
"The worst part was when Viktor didn't understand what Malfoy meant," Hermione said meekly, now clasping her hands tightly together as if they contained tears Ron could hear her holding back, "Viktor actually had to ask him what a 'Mudslut' was…and of course, Malfoy was only too happy to explain."
"I bet Krum hexed Malfoy into next week for that," Ron said, smiling as he imagined the pale blonde Slytherin finally getting his comeuppance.
"Actually, no," Hermione said, as a tear escaped and traveled down her cheek, "Viktor has a rather slender grasp on English, you see, and he wasn't familiar with the term 'Mudblood' or 'slut'. Malfoy walked off, laughing madly, and I had to explain what those words meant."
"Now I really will kill him," Ron said hotly. He could only imagine how mortified Hermione had been, explaining in detail those insults to her boyfriend, "I swear to you, 'Mione, I won't let Malfoy get away with this."
"Don't!" she exclaimed, putting a hand on his wrist as if to restrain him and then pulling away immediately as if burned by the skin-to-skin contact, "You're a prefect…you'll lose your badge if you're caught fighting…especially with another prefect. Besides, if anyone should defend my honor against the things Draco Malfoy said, it probably ought to be my boyfriend."
"Considering it's his fault Malfoy called you a slut in the first place," Ron said, gritting his teeth. Whether Hermione had a boyfriend or not, Ron really wanted to make Malfoy pay, and even as she was telling him not to, Ron was imagining different scenarios in which Malfoy got his just desserts.
"What do you mean by that?!" Hermione snapped, bringing Ron out of his thoughts, "How is it Viktor's fault?"
"He made you dress that way, didn't he?" Ron said, accusingly, "You don't normally wear makeup and do your hair up all fancy or put on skintight robes that have everybody and his brother gawking at you!"
"He's my boyfriend!" she retorted in exasperation, "He likes it when I dress up for him!"
"And what about you? Do you like dressing up for him?" he snapped, "I'd have thought you'd prefer dressing like yourself."
"Viktor thinks I'm pretty this way," she said, cheeks flushed in frustration, "He says it reminds him of the Yule Ball!"
"The effing Yule Ball," Ron grumbled. Was that stupid ball going to keep coming back to haunt him? It was like he couldn't escape it; even now, almost a year later, and in a completely different dimension no less.
"If you had a girlfriend, wouldn't you want her to look nice for you?" she asked, "To dress up in clothes that make her look pretty?"
"Shouldn't I think she's pretty no matter what she's wearing?" he asked, refusing to give an inch.
"I…well…that's rather sweet, actually," she said with a bemused smile, "There you go again."
Ron smiled smugly and then got a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Since you've gone to all the trouble to dress up for him, do you reckon your boyfriend would dress up special for you?"
"What…like in a smart Muggle suit or something?" she asked. The look in her eye said that the doubted it.
"Actually, I was thinking you could get him to dress up like that muppet Lockhart," Ron said with a laugh, "Then you could have the best of both worlds."
"Oh my God!" Hermione laughed, "I can't believe you remember that!"
Ron snorted. "If Lockhart had his way, I wouldn't remember anything."
"What do you mean by that?" Hermione asked, looking confused.
"Err…nothing," Ron said, groaning inwardly as he once again slipped into a familiarity not meant for this Hermione. He quickly tried changing the subject. "You know, if Krum's not willing to dress up for you, do you really think you ought to get all tarted-up for him?"
"What is your problem?!" Hermione snapped, "We were having a nice conversation and you had to ruin it! What difference does it make to you how I look?"
"Because, you don't look like you," Ron said, raising his voice more than he had intended, "And I happen to like the way you normally look!"
Hermione's mouth gaped open and she sat, looking completely shocked at Ron. "You…you do?"
Ron looked away, blushing. He'd said too much…again…and had very nearly confessed certain feelings he had developed for Hermione…either Hermione – damn, he was confused. He knew she was waiting for a response, but he didn't know what to say. Fortunately…or not…Viktor chose that moment to return.
"Vot is going on here?" Krum said, looking expectantly from Hermione to Ron and back again, "Vot is all the yelling?"
"It's nothing, Viktor," Hermione said, standing up and placing a hand on his arm, "Did Dumbledore get you a new Portkey?"
"Yes, he did," Viktor replied, "But I vont to know vy he vos just yelling at you, Herm-own-ninny. You said he vos your friend…vy does he yell at you then?"
"He is my friend," Hermione said, blushing at that and causing Ron to arch an eyebrow at her which made her blush even harder, "It was just a misunderstanding."
"Vait a moment," the Bulgarian said, narrowing his eyes at Ron, "This is the vun from the ball…the vun from your letters, vare you say he is cruel to you and threatens Krushnik!"
"That's all in the past now, Viktor," Hermione said desperately, "He saved Crookshanks when some other students tried to hurt him; Crookshanks is actually somewhat fond of him now."
"I vill not stand for anyvun being cruel to you, Herm-own-ninny!" Viktor said, glaring menacingly at Ron.
Ron snorted derisively, "You stood by and let Malfoy call her a Mudblood and a slut, though, didn't you?"
"How dare you!" Viktor roared, looking as if he wanted to do Ron an injury.
The redhead and the Bulgarian were glaring daggers at each other, and Hermione was trying to pull her boyfriend away before they came to blows…but she was failing miserably.
"Don't get in a strop at me, you git," Ron snapped, moving as if to get out of bed despite the lingering pain from his injuries, "You're the one who wanted her done up like a scarlet woman trolling Knockturn Alley for an easy shag!"
"Stop it!" Hermione shouted at Ron, her brown eyes pleading with him, "Come on, Viktor…let's just go."
"Yes, I haff had enough of this," Viktor said angrily, taking her hand and turning to leave the hospital wing in his usual duck-footed gait.
Hermione turned and shot Ron a look before her Bulgarian boyfriend dragged her through the double doors and out of Ron's line of sight. The odd thing was, Ron couldn't tell if the look was apologetic or angry; just one more thing for Ron Weasley to be confused about where Hermione Granger was concerned.
Author's End Notes: Okay, well, there you have it. Some Ron/Hermione/Krum action (okay…that sounds dirty…and so very, very wrong…*shudder*). Hope you all enjoyed that.
And now, for why you're really reading down this far: what I intend to do for the one year anniversary of this story! I could have chosen to push back the posting of this chapter until next weekend, so it would fall on the actual anniversary…but that is a total dick move (which, in all fairness, is why it appealed to me); instead, I have decided to do post next weekend as well…and the weekend after that (thus maintaining my schedule). So, for the next three weeks (this week, next week, the week after), you'll be getting a chapter a week instead of having to wait. Even though it's my story's anniversary, you get the gift! How's that for a slice of fried gold?
Chapter 20 is up on February 5th, so mark your calendars. And if you feel like it, give me a review to let me know what you thought of this chapter.
~Hawk~