So I got some positive and some negative reviews from my last chapter. A lot of the people who reviewed said that they didn't like seeing Krum in this light, and you know what? I don't really like it either. But he was never one of my favourite characters, and I wrote this because I always thought he had a mean side and I wanted to explore it. But I will just let you know that this story is mainly about Hermione, Ron, Gabrielle and a bit of Krum as well. It's not all about Hermione and Krum. Sorry :(
But anyway, here is chapter 3. I hope you like it!
"So what you are saying est... your husband has, how you say... cheated on you?" Gabrielle asked. She was sitting next to Hermione on the creamy leather sofa in the living room, and was bouncing Katerina contentedly on her knee. She reached out a hand to pat Hermione's shoulder. As she did so, Hermione noticed that Gabrielle looked even more like her sister from this angle. Her hair was sleek and blonde; her hands were long-fingered and gentle as they patted her shoulder. She felt a sudden surge of jealousy towards her. She hated her for being young, for being happy, for being married to someone who loved her. Hermione let a single tear dribble slowly down her cheek.
"Oh, no, ma cherie, do not cry!" Gabrielle cried, her lilting French accent deepening. Hermione couldn't tell whether she was being genuinely nice or not.
Gabrielle turned to face her. "Hermione, we will fix this. I know that we have not spoken since the wedding of my sister, and we do not know eachother very well, but I will try and help. Everything will be bon. And Ron will too, will you not?"
She looked up at her husband with raised eyebrows. Ron looked reluctant, and he was obviously trying to avert his eyes from Hermione and her brood. He looked down at the floor.
"Uh, yeah. Sure."
He stood from the chair in which he was sitting and paced around the room a few times. Then he took a deep breath, and shook his red hair out of his eyes, as he had often done when he was a teenager, back when his life had been easier. Sighing, he raised his gaze from the floor and stared down at Hermione for the first time since she had arrived. Hermione quickly looked down at the floor, putting a hand out to stroke Katerina's hair from where she sat on Gabrielle's lap. Gabrielle looked up at her husband once more.
"Ron, bon-bon, would you please put on the kettle? I think Hermione needs some tea to drink." She gestured to where Hermione sat on the sofa. Ron shifted uncomfortably.
"Actually, Gabby, I was thinking that I could go out and, err, buy some, um, things if Hermione is gonna stay with us," he mumbled. His wife nodded.
"Okay – be back soon though. I will make the tea," she replied.
Ron was out the door with his jacket on before she had even finished the sentence.
Ron hurried down the road, his hands jammed into his jacket pockets. The sun was shining, but the day was cold.
Why. Why on earth was she here now? Right when his life seemed to be going so perfectly. She had already turned his world inside-out once, but now she was back to do it again? It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.
She had broken his heart, shattered it into a million tiny pieces.
She had turned away from him.
She had lost him.
And now she was back, begging for forgiveness and for shelter? What did she expect from him? For him to just smile and allow her back into his home without a second thought? They had lived together for almost a year after the defeat of Voldemort – they were engaged to be married. And suddenly, with no warning, she had torn away from him.
She said he was insensitive, that he was crude and irritating.
That they weren't meant to be together after all, all they had been through. She had been ruthless with her insults.
The next day she had packed her things and left. He had tried to contact her, to get her back, but she wouldn't allow it. The next thing he knew, she was dating that prat of a Quidditch player, Viktor Krum. She wasn't regretful or sad. In the magazines her face shone with happiness and new love. So Ron had turned away.
He didn't want to spoil her seemingly perfect life.
He had gone his own way – first Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, then the Chudley Cannons, then finally Gabby. His life had gone very well, and was slowly but surely becoming perfect. He had a gorgeous, funny, amazing wife, a brilliant best friend, a family who loved him and a baby on the way.
And she had to come and ruin it.
Hermione sat on the sofa, while Gabrielle hummed to herself while she poured the tea.
She heard the front door slam shut, and Ron came through the living room into the kitchen, his arms full of bulging carrier bags. He mumbled a greeting to Hermione as he passed, a frown deepening the lines on his forehead. He slammed the bags down on the top of the bar. Gabrielle frowned and pulled him into the recesses of the kitchen.
Andrei leaned over to talk to his mother from where he sat.
"Mummy, who's that grumpy man?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.
"Andrei, we don't say things like that in other people's houses," she chided him softly. She got a book out of her bag and motioned for her sons to join her.
"Come here, we can read this. It's your favourite book!" The boys hurried to sit in front of her. Katerina gurgled in her lap as she began to read.
"Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump. A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish king who decided that he alone should have the power of magic. He therefore commanded the head of his army to form a brigade of witch-hunters, and issued them with a pack of ferocious black hounds. At the same time, the king caused proclamations to be read in every village and town across the land: "Wanted by the king, an instructor in magic."
No true witch or wizard dared volunteer for the post, for they were all in hiding from the brigade of witch-hunters. However, a cunning sharp man with no magical powers saw a chance of enriching himself and arrived at the palace claiming to be a wizard of enormous skill.
The charlatan performed a few simple tricks, which convinced the foolish king of his magical powers, and was immediately appointed Grand Sorcerer in Chief, the king's private magic master. The charlatan bade the king give him a large sack of gold so that he might purchase wands and other magical necessities. He also requested several large rubies to be used in the casting of curative charms and a silver chalice or two for the storing and maturing of potions.
All these things the foolish king supplied.
The charlatan stowed the treasure safely in his own house and returned to the palace grounds. He did not know that he was being watched by an old woman who lived in a hovel on the edge of the grounds. Her name was Babbity, and she was the washerwoman who kept the palace linen soft, fragrant and white. Peeping from behind her drying sheets, Babbity saw the charlatan snap two twigs from one of the king's trees and disappear into the palace.
The charlatan gave one of the twigs to the king and assured him that it was a wand of tremendous power.
"It will only work, however," said the charlatan, "when you are worthy of it."
Every morning the charlatan and the foolish king walked out into the palace grounds, where they waved their wands and shouted nonsense at the sky.
The charlatan was careful to perform more tricks, so that the king remained convinced of the grand sorcerer's skill, and of the power of the wands that had cost so much gold. One morning, as the charlatan and the foolish king were twirling their twigs and hopping in circles and chanting meaningless rhymes, a loud cackling reached the king's ears. Babbity the washerwoman was watching the king and the charlatan from the window of her tiny cottage, and was laughing so hard that she soon sank out of sight, too weak to stand – " She stopped, hearing raised voices from the kitchen.
"Gabby, she can't stay here! I won't allow it!"
"But Ron, she is scared, she is alone, she is homeless – "
"She made herself homeless. Let her go back to her precious Krummy-Wummy if she wants to."
There was a crashing sound as a cupboard door was banged shut. Gabrielle sounded annoyed.
"Ron, what has she done to deserve this? Why are you so... so... so uncaring?"
"Look, Gabby, there are things that went on between us. Things I've tried hard to forget. And her back here... it brings them back. I'm sorry, but she can't stay. She – "
He was cut off by Hermione, who had crept into the kitchen soundlessly, Katerina in her arms.
"Look, Ron, I'll go. It was stupid to come here. I'll – I'll go to a hotel. Don't worry."
She turned away, her eyes tearing up. Gabby was on her in a second.
"Non, Hermione, non! Ron is just not feeling well today, he is a little grumpy. Stay, stay. We will take care of you." Ron sighed through his nose like a horse. He stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Gabrielle rolled her eyes.
"Ignore him. He is, how you say, stressed. We had to go to the hospital today, and he hates the hospitals."
Hermione looked up in surprise. "Hospital? Why?"
"I am expecting a baby in December. I am pregnant," Gabrielle said cheerfully, gesturing to her stomach. Hermione lurched backwards.
"Er, maybe I should go. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I – "
"No. Come this way, I shall take your bags, you take your children. The bedroom is up the stairs, on the right."
And Hermione followed helplessly as Gabrielle lifted her suitcases like they were no heavier than a couple of feathers, and began to carry them upstairs. She hadn't guessed that Gabrielle was that strong. But she didn't argue. She gathered her children and handbag, and followed her up the stairs.
A/N: Well, that was chapter 3. I really hope you liked it, I tried to update quickly and make the chapter as good as it could be. If you have any praise, constructive criticism or general comments, please review!
I copied the thing about Gabrielle's strength from the character of Petra in the book Jinx by Meg Cabot. I really like her character and I thought I would take a little trait from it
Oh, by the way, I made Gabrielle 2 years older than she really is. In the book she is 6 years younger than Ron and Harry and Hermione, but in DFRF she is only 4 years younger. I just thought that six years was a bit of a creepy age difference for Ron, as I always pictured him marrying someone around his own age. So I added two years to Gabby's age.
The "Babbity Rabbity and Her Cackling Stump" bit is from the actual Beedle the Bard book that my friend lent me for this chapter. So I take no credit for that.
And again: please review! Please! With a cherry on top and sprinkles! Unless you are allergic to cherries or sprinkles, in which case have the gluten/wheat/whatever-free substitute... Just please review! :D