Ron sat on a stone bench, pushing a pebble back and forth with the toe of his shoe. He was sat in a large square of a room with a stairway at one end. Once again, Ron found himself at the bottom of a seemingly endless case of stairs, praying for Hermione to show herself.
Ron chuckled wryly, remembering the time in fifth year when he tried to climb the girls' staircase in Gryffindor Tower, only to go sliding back down. It had been only one instance on a growing list of times when Ron couldn't get near enough to Hermione.
He sighed and rested his head on the stone wall behind him. Something had to be done. This situation with Hermione was getting wildly out of hand. He'd been trying so hard to do what was best for her. Couldn't she see he always had her best interest at heart? Lately, though, it seemed everything he did was wrong.
Through a hallway to one side of the room, Ron could hear the sounds of a party in full swing. Apparently, this was just a small do made up of the friends and families of the candidates; tomorrow's ball was supposed to be the big deal. Ron snorted. The festivities going on in the next room certainly looked like a big deal to him.
Just then, Harry walked through the hallway toward Ron, carrying two butterbeers.
"Any sign of them?"
Ron shook his head no and gratefully accepted one of the bottles. He swigged down a cold gulp.
"Not that I know what to say once they get down here," Ron said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
"Yes," Harry said with a thin smile. "Perhaps you should plan ahead what you'll say. You don't have a great track record with apologies when you go off the cuff."
Ron scowled at his best mate.
"How am I supposed to apologize for something when I have no idea what I'm meant to be sorry about?"
"Perhaps it has something to do with Lavender?" Harry said gently.
"If anyone should be upset about that, it's me!" Ron shouted. "She practically set the thing up. She knows I can't stand being near Lav Lav!"
"Ron, maybe she doesn't know that…"
Ron's face scrunched up in confusion, but he was distracted from answering by the sound of footsteps on the stairway. Both men turned to see a group of ten women being led down the stairs by a petite older lady. All the girls wore long gowns with complicated hairdos. In the back, Ron could just make out Ginny and Hermione.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted, jumping up from the bench. A good pouring of butterbeer sloshed against the front of his shirt and the older woman on the stairs shushed him with a stern glare.
"Now, ladies," the old woman said, clapping her hands. "We are about to present you in the great hall. Ladies in waiting, you'll go in first and take your seats. Then, as is custom, each candidate will be led in by a male family member. Gerome?"
A small attendant appeared from thin air at the woman's call.
"Yes, m'lady?"
"Please bring in a male relative for each of the candidates."
Gerome disappeared immediately.
"Ladies in waiting, please line up to the left. Candidates, please stand to the right."
As the girls divided themselves into neat rows, Ron pushed his way up the stairs. Harry reluctantly followed, knowing in his heart no good would come of this.
"Young man, you can't be here right now," the persnickety lady said, positioning herself in front of Ron. Over the woman's shoulder, Ron could see Hermione standing just three steps away. She was staring at Ron as if he'd grown a second head.
"Hi Ron!"
Ron looked to his left to see Lavender standing beside him on the step.
"Um, hi," he said, turning his attention back to the older woman. "Listen, I just need a few moments, it's important…"
"I'm afraid I'm on a strict schedule," the woman replied. "Ah Gerome, there you are."
Ron looked over his shoulder to see that funny little man had returned with four other blokes behind him. Each of the men made to walk up the stairs, positioning themselves next to the various princess candidates.
"Perfect. Ladies in waiting, please enter the hall."
The woman watched as each of the five ladies in waiting, including Parvati and Ginny, marched into the next room. That done, the woman looked back at the princesses, a startled expression taking over her face as her gaze landed on Hermione.
"Miss Hermione! You're all alone."
Hermione stared at her shoes then looked at the woman, her voice quiet as she spoke.
"I don't have anyone here…"
"Don't you have a father or brother?" the woman asked in confusion. "Where's your family dear?"
"Hermione has family here!" Ron demanded loudly. The entire group on the staircase snapped their attention at Ron, surprised by the sudden outburst. Hermione's eyes were beginning to look suspiciously wet.
"Hermione," Harry said quietly. He took a few steps forward to the stair just below hers, holding out one hand. "May I?"
Hermione smiled gratefully at Harry and took his hand, mouthing a silent "Thank you" to her friend. Harry gave her a short nod before wrapping one of her arms through his own, positioning himself to stand tall beside her.
"Young man, you're going to have to move now."
Ron tore his gaze from Hermione and Harry to stare back at the old woman. She looked purposefully at him, motioning with her hands for him to exit.
"Right, sorry," he mumbled, walking backwards a few steps then turning to leave. He shoved his hands in his pockets and left the group, walking into the loud and vibrant party. The hall was decorated in banners of gold and purple and a large band sat at the front, playing a lively tune. In one corner of the room Ron saw the entire Weasley clan seated at a cluster of tables. He walked toward his family, falling into an empty chair beside George.
"Hiya Ronnikins," George said brightly. Ron looked at his brother, noticing a paper cocktail umbrella sticking out of the hole where George's ear had been severed. Over George's shoulder, Ron watched as the candidates were led in to the sounds of a trumpeter.
"What's the word, Ron?" George continued. He threw a peanut up in the air and caught it in his mouth. "Hermione still hacked off at you?"
"George, I know this will be difficult for you," Ron replied, not taking his eyes from Hermione. "But please, just for tonight, can you leave it?"
George studied his younger brother. Ron was slouched low in his chair, hands still shoved firmly in his pockets. Ron's tie had come loose and there was what appeared to be a butterbeer stain across his shirt.
"It seems to me, little brother, a lot of your anger comes from not having something you want desperately." George waved his wand over Ron's stomach as he spoke, removing the butterbeer stain. "But it has to be said, Ronnie…you can't be mad about not having something if you never pluck up the courage to ask for it in the first place."
George gave Ron a pointed look, tightening Ron's tie as he finished speaking. He then gave his brother a firm pat on the shoulder as he rose from his seat.
"Now if you'll excuse me, that Olivia princess looks like she's just begging to be introduced to me."
Ron watched George bounce away, the paper umbrella still sticking defiantly from one side of his head. He saw George greet the group of princesses, and Ron reflected on his words. George wanted him to ask for Hermione? That would be beside the point, now wouldn't it? Ron had already determined Hermione was better off without him. Why couldn't anyone see that he was doing the best thing for Hermione, by staying far away from her?
Ron sighed. The least he could do was stop making her so angry. He'd go over there and let her know he wanted to make up. They could still have their friendship, couldn't they? Ron stood up, his posture straight, and walked determinedly toward Hermione. Reaching the large group of people she stood within, he wasted no time in blurting out: "Can I talk to you?"
"We were in the middle of a conversation here."
Ron turned his attention to a young guy beside him, who was clearly put out by the interruption.
"Please?' Ron asked, turning back to Hermione. She nodded slowly at him and he grabbed her elbow gently, tugging her away from the crowd. Ron continued to walk, finding an empty corridor slightly hidden by a hanging tapestry. He pulled Hermione with him, concealing both of them from the overcrowded party.
Ron turned his attention to Hermione, who was giving him an exasperated expression that clearly said get on with it already.
"Listen, I want to apologize."
"For what, exactly?"
"Well, I'm not really sure."
Hermione's face settled into a look that told Ron he had clearly answered incorrectly.
"I mean, all of it I guess," Ron said quickly. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "It seems every time I'm in a room with you I say the wrong thing. And it's very confusing for me because I have no idea what the right thing to say is, but I want you to know I'm not trying to upset you."
"I find that hard to believe," Hermione answered angrily. "You're very good at it."
Unbelievable, Ron thought to himself. Here I am apologizing and even that's got her up in arms.
"Believe it or not, Hermione, I do not wake up every morning with the sole purpose of pissing you off."
Hermione glared at him for a moment, clearly deciding what the best response would be.
"Why did you tell me to leave the burrow?" she asked forcefully.
"Wh-what?"
"You heard me," Hermione replied. "Yesterday, in your bedroom, you told me I needed to leave."
Did I say that? Ron remembered something about her going, but he hadn't meant it like that. He wanted her to find her parents, to go to Hogwarts, to start her life. Not because he wanted her gone, but because he cared enough to want a better life for her.
"You said the burrow wasn't my home," Hermione continued. Her voice wavered for a second on the last word. "A-and I know it isn't, really, but I don't even have a home now, do I? And that is such a scary thought, Ron! And at least at the burrow…when I'm there…I feel…"
Hermione trailed off, covering her face with her hands. Ron got the terrible feeling she was crying behind her fingers.
"Hermione, I just meant you should be someplace better," Ron said softly. "Look around you. You're in an actual castle. This is what you deserve, not some dingy old house where the floors creak and a person can't get a moment's peace."
Hermione lowered her hands at that, looking Ron in the eyes. There were indeed a few rogue tear tracks on her cheeks. When she spoke finally, her words were slow, as if explaining something very obvious.
"From everything you've learned about me over the last seven years, what on Earth would make you think I wanted to live in a castle?" she asked forcefully. "Ron, in the whole world, there isn't any place better than the burrow. How could you not know that?"
Ron took a deep breath at Hermione's admission. Hermione struggled to not say more, wanting so badly to explain to him that the sole reason she loved the burrow, why it felt more like home to her than anywhere else, was because he was there.
Ron took a step toward her and reached out a hand in her direction, opening his mouth as if to speak. His hand stilled, though, at the sound of a voice behind them.
"Her-my-own, I haf found you."
Ron turned to protest but froze in his tracks, recognizing the unmistakable figure of Viktor Krum standing before him.
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" Ron shouted. He whipped his head toward Hermione, who looked just as stunned.
"Viktor, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked dazedly.
"I haf come for you," Viktor replied in his thick accent. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
"Honestly?" Ron protested. "Aren't we done with you yet?"
No one seemed to be listening to Ron's outburst. "Un-bloody-believable," he muttered to himself.
"We were in the middle of something here," Ron said angrily at Krum
"I am sorry, Her-my-own," Viktor replied, ignoring Ron. "But one of the attendants needs you, they are about to begin a ceremony."
Hermione looked questioningly back at Ron. For his part, Ron gave a gesture of go on then. He watched as Viktor stepped forward, touched Hermione lightly on the arm, and yet again walked her away from Ron.
Okay, I know I made a lot of people angry with this chapter. Sorry! Please, just a bit more patience! Also, I know Viktor usually says "Hermy-own-ninny" but there is one point in GOF when he says "Her-my-own." I always thought that would have made Ron the most annoyed, hearing Viktor call her "my own."