In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 26: Commitment
Professor Tonks yawned, drunk from her mug, yawned again, that Friday morning. Her eyes stared vagrantly over the students.
"Cleaning charm time," Parvati Patil said.
Giggling.
Ron, though, watched the bubblegum pink robes that complemented her hair, the shifting posture.
"Yeah, she is," Ron said.
"You'd be an expert!" Hermione snapped at Ron.
"Before you go," Professor Tonks said, groggily, "Please take time to consider your actions before you do something rash." She yawned. "Class dismissed."
"Consider it yourselves!" Lavender Brown snapped at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"And you!" Hermione snapped at Ron as they stood.
"Hermione!" Ron protested. His eyes on her knockers, his tongue licked his lips.
"Don't think—" Her eyes upon him, "That excuses you!"
They left the classroom.
"Like I could stop it if I wanted to!" Ron said, "You make me stiff."
"He's got low standards," Hermione said.
"It was a party," Harry said, "Things were supposed to get out of hand."
"Oh, you both had wonderful times," Hermione said, "Just because Gia let you off the hook!"
"She flirts and I skirt," Harry said, "We both had fun, so did Ron until—"
"Can you make that any more obvious?!" Hermione stammered.
Hermione glared.
"Psst!" came the soft noise.
Ron glanced, Fred was standing in the corner, tried to blend in, however, the colorful Hawaiian shirt with swaying palm trees against a sea of blue gave him away, the untucked hem bunched against the hands in the front pockets.
"Meet ya in the library," Ron said.
"Go and find another flirt!" Hermione snapped.
Ron stood there, watched her walk with Harry toward the stairs. George approached.
"This way," Fred said.
Together, they found an empty classroom, entered. Ron glanced at George's red Hawaiian shirt, birds flying above the sunset lit golden beach, with hands saddled into the back pockets.
"Bloody obvious, your spat," George said.
"Really?" Ron asked.
"After you banged their seeker?" Fred said, "Look, if Mum were alive, she'd be sending you—"
"A Howler," George said.
"Um…" Ron started.
"Even Dad was furious when he heard," George said.
"You don't get it…Amy…" Ron started.
"At least you remember her name," Fred said, "Look, we understand her, she's rather savage and even got us."
"We're not the ones you need to convince," George said.
"I know," Ron said, having seen Hermione's reaction already.
"You're mature enough to make it up to her," Fred said.
"Mum'd be disappointed if you gave up Hermione so easily," George said, "That's why we're here."
"Hex her? Love potion?" Ron asked.
"Nothing that dramatic, and Mum'd be sending you a Howler for that," Fred said.
"Your stiffy won't solve your troubles with Hermione," George said, "So you need to do a bit more, and that's where … Dad guilted us into helping."
"Oh," Ron said.
Fred pulled his right hand out of his pocket, handed over a box that came out with it, a small red box. Ron opened it, on red velvet, was a silver ring, raised his eyebrows.
"If you're serious, you'll give it to her," Fred said, "A token of your affection to her."
"Girls love jewelry," George said.
"She's not that cheap," Ron replied.
"Then make up a story," Fred said, "Say it was in Mum's treasure chest."
"Really?" Ron asked.
"Like Mum had much treasure, you dolt," George said, "No, the jewelry shop—business is doing good, though we figured gold would be too much."
"Cheap," Ron said.
"That too," Fred said, "Though it's got anti–theft and an anti–loss charm. It can even take a charm or two from you, for instance, imbue her with a permanent smile."
"That's not her," Ron said, "Not fake feelings."
"Make it something she'd appreciate," George said,
"Avoid the gawdy," Fred said, "I mean, yes, there are ones that'll let her always see your todger."
"But it's your todger that got you into this mess," George said.
"Yeah," Ron said, remembering the previous night.
"Avoid your todger too," Fred said, "Take her on a date, tonight."
"One where you dress up, not down," George said.
Ron, though, knew it meant the suit.
"By date, we don't mean overlooking the Shrieking Shack," Fred said, "A proper restaurant, we can help with the tab, if necessary."
"What did Dad blackmail you with?" Ron asked.
"Like we'll tell you," George said, "Want our help or not?"
"With the tab, yes," Ron said, "Think I can manage it from here."
"It's a package deal," Fred said, "Think London for the restaurant."
"Sneak out, you know," George said, "We'll bribe the Stationary shop to leave their fireplace unguarded while you and she—"
"Got my own way," Ron replied.
"Owl, whatever you need, owl," Fred said, "Dad made this rather clear."
"Ta," Ron said, putting the red box into his bookbag.
"Don't foul this up," George said, "Think Dad's after grandchildren."
"Um…" Ron stopped, he hadn't thought that far ahead, apart from not having any before he graduated.
Fred and George laughed. Fred and George left. Ron took the box back out, glanced at the ring, realized he had a bit of time until lunch. He grabbed his Portkey from his bookbag, wand, activated it.
"Ron?" Gia asked, she was shuffling through papers on her desk, "I left my homework—"
"Need Harry's book," Ron said as he grabbed The Romantic Wizard from the bookshelf, sat cross–legged on the bed as he perused it.
"What are you after?" Gia asked.
"Ideas," Ron said as he flipped the pages, "You know…"
"She's fragile," Gia said.
"I fucking know that," Ron said, his eyes flirted up to her in her short skirt and low–cut shirt, "Sure, a jelly legs jinx would make sure she never forgot, but that's definitely a wrong thing to do. I need a spell…" His eyes returned to the book full of advice, positions, and possibilities.
Gia grabbed the red box, opened it.
"You're proposing?" Gia asked, her eyes fixed on the silver ring.
"Not that far," Ron said, "Something like…like what Harry did for you."
Ron's eyes glanced at the gold ring on her finger, flipped the pages in the book to the page titled `Vincio Amor', glanced at the handful of charms.
"Knowing Harry…he did the first one," Ron said, "You're a muggle, so it had to be strong for you to see the wizarding world. Hermione—we don't need that."
"Strong?" Gia asked.
"Yeah," Ron said, "So long as the love is true, that ring will work between you two. Found it."
"What did you choose?" Gia said, "Don't make it creepy."
"Protection," Ron said, "About as good as any."
"You think a ring will smooth things over?" Gia asked.
"A start, not an end," Ron said.
"Where are you taking her for dinner?" Gia asked.
"Any ideas?" Ron said.
"A few," Gia said.
"Ta," Ron said, before his eyes glanced at the white tuxedo hanging from a pair of hangers, "For Harry?"
"I know how he is, so make it obvious," Gia said.
Ron laughed. Ron grabbed the ring, his wand, aimed.
"Vincio Protego Amor!" Ron commanded, watched the momentary orange glow over the ring.
"That's fast," Gia said.
"Should work," Ron said, "Well, back to her, see you tonight."
"Me and Harry'll take off as soon as he shows up," Gia said, "After yesterday—"
"Yeah, my focus is her, later," Ron said.
Ron put the silver ring into the box, put them back into his book bag, grabbed his Portkey, and activated it. A moment later, Ron landed on his four poster bed. Ron made for the library on the fifth floor, and he entered. He stopped as soon as he heard Hermione's voice, stayed behind the book stack, he glanced at her sitting next to Harry.
"—better of me," Hermione said, "Instead, he just—he cheated! With her!"
"A fling," Harry said.
"You—you're supposed to be his best friend yet you—" Hermione started.
"I wasn't going to stop it," Harry said.
"Of course not!" Hermione snapped.
"Amy and Gia—they flirt for sport," Harry said, "It's a game."
"And they won!" Hermione seethed.
"A win is having fun," Harry said, "A fling with them isn't serious."
"Fooled me," Hermione said.
"I don't own anybody, nor do I want to," Harry said, "I see Gia flirt all the time, I see the enjoyment she gets out of it, the smiles on the others. Gia's a kind, generous, soul, she loves everybody. She loves me deeper because I understand who she is; by embracing her flirts and flings, I care about her even more."
Hermione snorted.
"Of course," Hermione said, dismissively.
"You fell in love with Ron, right?" Harry asked.
"Obvious," Hermione said.
"Let him be Ron," Harry said, "Because, he is a bloke, and his eyes will wander, so, if you're mad, be yourself and ask him to write you an essay."
Hermione snorted.
"You're serious?" Hermione asked.
"Maybe," Harry replied, his grin as infectious as ever.
"Ahem," Ron said as he came out of the stacks, walked over to the table, to the other side.
"You certainly took your time," Hermione said, "Banged Moaning Myrtle?"
Harry laughed as Ron shook his head. Ron sat.
"By the way, Quidditch practice will be canceled," Ron said.
"You've got a match tomorrow, against Slytherin," Hermione said.
"I know, but you're more important," Ron said, "Want to do something this evening?"
"Maybe," Hermione said.
Harry's bottle green eyes glanced at Ron's eyes.
"Do it," Harry said to Hermione.
"This is more interesting," Hermione said as she unfolded The Daily Prophet.
"Full of garbage," Harry said.
"Maybe," Hermione said.
Ron, though, grabbed the page with a picture of Mr. Arthur Weasley.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Weasley Wizarding Wheezes Awarded Best Halloween Decorations
Mr. Arthur Weasley accepted the award for the best Halloween decorations for Diagon Alley on behalf of his sons, the proprietors of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.
"Good for them," Hermione said, her eyes flickered at Ron.
Ron's eyes studied her knockers pressed against her shirt above the oak table, his arousal formed beneath it.
"You're horny," Harry said to Ron.
Hermione glared.
"You're beautiful inside and outside," Ron said, "Nothing wrong with that you know."
"Let's see what the Minister is up to," Harry said, reaching for the paper. Ron knew Harry wasn't interested, just thwarting Hermione's response.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Minster's Magical Halloween
Minister for Magic Victor Fallerschain started his Halloween celebration handing out chocolate frogs to young patients at St. Mungo's. Victor Fallerschain took time to help young Kevin Stanhoe, seven with a bad case of Thestral Bones, secure his chocolate frog for eating, and assured Kevin that helping is part of the fun the Minister had in what he hopes to become an annual tradition.
"Pandering for support," Hermione said.
"No, it's new," Ron said.
"Muggles politicians do that all the time," Hermione said.
"So, the Minister picked up a few tricks," Harry said, "Not surprising."
"You!" Hermione snapped, her eyes flashed at Ron.
"What?!" Ron stammered, took his eyes away from her, glanced at Harry. Harry's bottle green eyes fixed onto Ron's, the twitching betrayed Harry's irritation.
"The Minister visited Kent Quidditch Academy," Harry said, "Hear this."
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Minster Creating Audit Department in Ministry for Magic
Minister for Magic, Victor Fallerschain, while speaking at Kent Quidditch Academy's Halloween Feast, announced that he is creating a new department in the Ministry for Magic dedicated to rooting out waste, fraud, and abuse, which will save you money. Already they have uncovered an embezzlement scheme in the maintenance department, the culprits have been fired and charged, they will be prosecuted by the Wizengamot in the near future.
"So, they're hiring auditors? Like that's a big deal," Ron said.
"Ministry needs to be cleaned up," Hermione said.
"Not that again!" snapped Neville Longbottom, nearby. Ron glanced, Longbottom's eyes were on Luna Lovegood.
"Shh!" Lovegood hushed at him, "Bob is trying to sleep!"
Eyes went to her, with her floral skirt showing, with a bottle in front of her on the table, a bottle with chynky white spoiled milk with dark green bacteria growing in the neck.
"Bad place to sleep!" Seamus Finnigan said as he came into the library with Dean Thomas and Wayne Hopkins.
Ron stood, faced Finnigan. Ron's eyes were focused on Finnigan's.
"Good thing I'm not on the team," Seamus Finnigan said, "Canceled practice — why bother, we don't have a chance, do we? Though I suppose if I adopted the uniform—"
"Will it protect us from a beating?" Wayne Hopkins asked, "Maybe if Ernie and Justin—"
"At least they'll recover, this time," Seamus Finnigan said, "I was about to place a wager on your expulsion, but I realized, that's not going to happen, is it? You've got Bumbledick in your hands, right? Good Imperius curse, we wouldn't suspect that, right? Whatever your method, you're succeeding, because the esteemed Headmaster tried to extort a different story out of them, to excuse your misbehavior. Our lives, our safety, and our well being are in danger so long as you're here."
"Ron," Hermione said as she rose and quickly gathered their parchment, books, ink, quills.
"Excuse me as I have to go to take a dump on your bed," Ron said, politely, "Because you're full of it and wouldn't know the difference."
"You're reading that, again?" Neville Longbottom asked Luna Lovegood.
"It's high informative," Luna Lovegood said with an upside down Quibbler in her hands.
Ron, though, grabbed his bookbag. Him, Harry, and Hermione left the library.
"It was about lunchtime anyways," Ron said.
Ron got his Firebolt out of his bookbag, mounted it. Hermione got on behind. Harry mounted his, and they flew out the window. Slivers of blue sky allowed some sunshine through the clouds, Ron felt the buffeting of the wind picking up, steadied it. Hermione's fingers dug in as she held tighter. They flew into the dormitory, landed. Ron went over to Seamus Finnigan's four poster, pulled the covers back.
"No way," Hermione said, "He's already—"
"Shitty," Ron said.
Hermione shook her head.
"We'd do ourselves no favors by doing that," Harry said, "We've got to be better than them, period."
Hermione nodded.
"Oh," Ron said.
"I want to do that too," Harry said, "It'd just be fuel to the fire."
Lunch appeared on the table. Ron walked over, grabbed the chicken, ate.
"What was this brilliant plan of yours?" Hermione asked.
"A date," Ron said.
"You and Seamus?" Hermione stammered.
"You and me, tonight," Ron said.
"I'll leave you two be," Harry said as he went to sit on his four poster bed.
Ron and Hermione landed that afternoon in her bedroom, in Noigate.
"If you excuse me, I need to get changed," Hermione said.
"Mine's over at Harry's," Ron said, activating the Portkey.
"Hi," Gia said as Ron landed in Gia's bedroom.
"Your suit—" Harry said, pointed as he slipped into his white tuxedo.
Ron glanced at the velveted maroon red suit, hanging on the hanger, the red matched his hair.
"Um…" Ron said.
"Remember, you're trying to woo her," Gia said, as she handed him a bottle of cologne, "So long as she likes it, you're fine."
"Yeah," Ron said as he applied the cologne. He didn't particularly care for maroon, because it reminded him that he's a Weasley.
Ron glanced at Harry, now in his white tuxedo, and wearing a bottle green bow tie. Ron put the trousers on first. Maroon shirt, the matching bow tie, the suit jacket, the socks and shoes, Ron stood there.
"Looking good," Gia said, "Definitely good. Reservations and directions are in your pocket."
Ron felt the paper, put the small box into his suit jacket pocket, activated his Portkey. A moment later, Ron landed in the foyer to Hermione's house.
"Good evening," said Charles Granger, standing in his own gray suit, "You're here for Hermione, right?"
"Yeah," Ron said.
"Date?" Charles Granger asked.
"Yep," Ron said, "Got into a bit of a rough spot, need to work it out."
"Do so," Charles Granger said, "You're not the only one."
In a white dress with large blue flowers, Linda Granger entered the living room.
"You look lovely darling," Charles Granger said, "Care for a dance?"
"That'd be lovely," Linda Granger said, "You kids, behave yourselves."
"I'm not—" Hermione started as she came down the stairs.
"You're a generation younger than me," Linda Granger said, "To me, you'll always be a kid."
"My baby daughter," Charles Granger said, "Good luck Ron."
Charles took Linda's hand, she grabbed his elbow, and they left the house. Ron, however, glanced at Hermione, in a yellow dress, with yellow sandals beneath, the upper piece was strapless, shoulderless, brought emphasis to her bosom. Ron felt his arousal. Hermione glared.
"Your beauty does that to me," Ron said, "No shame in that, is there?"
"I saw you all day long," Hermione said.
"Lets go," Ron said.
"Surprise Harry's—" Hermione started.
"Tonight's about us, not him," Ron said as they left the house.
"Oh," Hermione muttered.
"I'm…I'm sorry I broke your trust," Ron said to Hermione.
"An apology?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," Ron said, as they walked along.
"Where are we headed?" Hermione asked.
"A place," Ron said, "Got reservation and a recommendation."
"You—you couldn't have planned it all out," Hermione said.
"You underestimate me, Hermione," Ron replied.
"There's no denying what's on your mind!" Hermione said.
"Of course that's on my mind!" Ron said, as they stopped, "You, a friend I've known for years, a good friend, beautiful inside and out, I've explored that beauty, I know what's there, and so of course I'm interested!"
They resumed walking.
"You had other ideas last night!" Hermione snapped.
"I'm a bloke and she—sorry, I couldn't resist her," Ron said.
"Obviously not," Hermione said.
"I guess the question is…" Ron stopped, faced her, "Do we want to still be friends?"
"Are you—?" Hermione started.
"Asking the question, same as Harry's been having," Ron said, "Is this all worth it?"
"I…" Hermione stuttered.
"If it is, lets move forward, together," Ron said, "You know where I stand on this—" His right hand cupped her bosom. "But, the question, Hermione, is where do you stand? Think about it." Ron kept walking.
Hermione kept glancing at Ron as they walked, in the maroon suit. They came to Palace of the Imperial Garden Dragon, and Ron held the door open for Hermione.
"This is—" Hermione started.
"Don't worry," Ron said, fiddling with the credit card in his pocket. He didn't like taking money, especially from Fred or George, however, Ron did admit, this was an emergency. They entered.
"Table—" Hermione started to say to the elderly Chinese man in a black suit.
"Reservation for Weasley," Ron said, "With her."
"This way," the man said, carried two menus.
"Since when did you—?" Hermione started to ask.
"Lets go," Ron said, offered his elbow. Hermione grabbed it, they went to the back, into a private room with a low table. "I felt it ought to be authentic." Ron knelt, sat on his feet, waved Hermione to the other side of the table.
Hermione sat, cross–legged, across from Ron.
"Would the gentlemen and the lady like a drink?" the waiter asked.
"Firewhiskey," Ron said.
"Before you get arrested," Hermione said, "Tea would be fine for the both of us."
The waiter left.
"You know, I can plan ahead," Ron said.
"Just like you're planning—" Hermione started.
Ron said, "I do love you, that hasn't changed, even if I do stray from time to time, I … love … you."
Hermione stared at the cloth of the crotch to Ron's maroon suit trousers.
"You're acting nervous," Hermione said.
"I'm laying myself bare, wide open," Ron said, "Yeah, I'm nervous you'll reject me."
"That…" Hermione said, "I'm not planning on it."
"Good," Ron replied, "I don't want to lose you."
"You're trying, aren't you?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," Ron replied.
The waiter returned with a tea pot, tea cups, placed them onto the table.
"Can I have a fortune cookie, to start?" Ron asked.
The waiter nodded, returned a moment later.
"You can't wait?" Hermione asked Ron.
"Your order will be ready soon," the waiter said, before he left.
"We ordered?" Hermione asked.
"Arranged for," Ron said, knowing it was Gia who made the preparations, made the call.
"Who are you and what have you done with the real Ron Weasley?" Hermione asked.
"Need me to drop my trousers?" Ron asked.
She shook her head.
"You're starting the meal off with—" Hermione started.
"Luck," Ron said, as he held the fortune cookie in his left hand, slipped his right hand into the jacket pocket, and focused. "switcho" he muttered as quietly as he could.
"What are you—" Hermione started to ask, until Ron handed her the cookie.
"Just open it," Ron said.
Hermione broke the cookie open, the simple silver ring tumbled out. Her eyes glared for a moment, studied his.
"You aren't—" Hermione started.
"Something different," Ron said.
"I wasn't expecting this," Hermione said.
"A ring of friendship," Ron said, "I love you, I care for you, but we've had some tumbles, and I felt some assurance, to you, was appropriate."
Hermione tested the fit, the ring resized itself to fit snuggly. She raised her eyebrows, took it off.
"I used the Vincio Amor enchantment on it," Ron said, "It binds us together in a promise to each other. So long as you choose to wear it, it cannot be stolen, cannot be lost, protects your virtue, and alerts me if you're in danger. Not as strong as what Harry did."
"Just what did Harry do?" Hermione asked.
"He used the first one, the only one that would permit her to experience the Wizarding World as we do," Ron said, "It binds them together, either both stand or both fall.
Hermione rose rapidly.
"He likely ordered Sirius to stay away," Hermione said, "It's even more dangerous—"
"Think for a moment, please?!" Ron said, he tugged gently, and Hermione sat back down. "Until we see Death Eaters marching down the street, Harry can handle anything that might come up."
…
Ron read the paper, the note in his pocket, the one with directions after he and Hermione left the restaurant. He deciphered Gia's handwriting, went along High Street, Commercial Street until Oxford, where Ron led Hermione up the stairs into Noigate's Victoria Ballroom. Her hand gripped Ron's elbow as they passed the threshold Of the double doors that gave way to the modestly vaulted ballroom within. Above were two ornate unlit chandlers, instead yielding their role to the many Fresnel lights hitting the disco ball suspended in between the two, the probing glimmers skipped and danced about the room.
"A dance?" Hermione asked.
"Noigate Youth—something a rather," Ron said, "Maybe Halloween a day late?"
They both saw the many costumed youth, some witches, some fairies, and some playboy bunnies.
"Well, think they'd mind if we became starkers?" Ron said, "I think we'd blend in."
"Because it's not civilized," Hermione said.
"Where's the fun in that?" Ron asked.
"Try it," Hermione said, "You'd—oh no!"
Ron caught her eyes, gazed across the room, and recognized the adult chaperons, her parents.
"We'll avoid them," Ron promised.
"You're mad," Hermione said.
"Well, suppose you could ask them to leave," Ron said, "Come, lets go in."
"In a moment," Hermione said, "Catch up to you."
Ron caught sight of her running toward the ladies room. He walked through the crowd.
"Hi Ron."
Ron caught sight of Gia, in an orange dress.
"Where's Hermione?" Gia asked.
"Ladies room," Ron said, "Mind talking with her?"
Gia went over to it. Ron, however, went for the bottle green eyes with his matching bowtie in a white tuxedo.
"Hi Ron!" Harry said, "Careful, Hermione's already pissed off."
"I know," Ron said, "I'm not pushing her."
"Hey," said Jen as she and Richard came over. She was in a dress, while he wore a blue sports jacket over the blue shirt and blue trousers.
"Hi," Harry replied.
"What the—" Richard stammered as the floor began to shake.
"Dudley!" Harry snapped, his eyes went wide, tracked to the other side of the ballroom.
Ron traced Harry's gaze, only enough to be sure that the dancing whale was indeed who Harry was referring to as Dudley. Overgrown and dressed up in his Smeltings uniform with a busted seam, Dudley rattled the windows as he wobbled on his feet.
"Disgusting," Richard said as tidal waves in the rolls of fat attracted the eyes in morbid curiosity.
"Who's that?" Ron asked, pointed at the pretzel stick wrapped in a white dress with a necklace of pearls.
"I…I think she's for hire," Jen said.
"Cut it out," Harry stated.
Harry walked through the crowd yielding to the panting, overweight, Dudley. Dudley's eyes latched onto Harry.
"Out of the way shrimp!" Dudley bellowed at Harry.
"You found a date," Harry remarked.
Ron understood Harry's point, Dudley was a cousin, for better or for worse, and Harry was trying to tell if Dudley would still follow in Uncle Vernon's footsteps.
"Catherine worships me," Dudley boasted as he stopped dancing.
"Good, for knowing her name," Harry said.
"Unlike some delinquent bastard signed over to an orphanage," Dudley said.
"That's not your problem," Harry said as he tucked his shirt underneath the broad belt, "Ta."
Harry returned to Ron. Shaking rattled the crystal cups on the punch table as Dudley returned to dancing.
"Well?" Ron asked Harry.
"It was worth a try," Harry said, "As a cousin, he deserved the chance that he promptly squandered."
They glanced back toward Dudley, who said a few words, quietly, to Catherine, and she promptly began to cry.
"And his friend, Piers," Harry said as another boy, in a matching Smeltings uniform, though taller than Dudley, began to freestyle dance with Dudley.
Some shattering as crystal cups began to drop from the table. Ron glanced at Charles Granger waving over two constables, the two who immediately marched over to Dudley and Piers.
"Hermione's parents to the rescue," Ron muttered.
"A place like this needs chaperones," Harry said, "What'd you think her parents did?"
"Volunteered," Ron said, "They said it was a date earlier."
"And it is, for them," Harry said, "You ought to focus on Hermione—I'm not sure she'll come out of the loo unless you get her."
"Gia went in," Ron said.
"Give her some time, but you go in after them," Harry said.
"No!" came the loud holler.
Harry and Ron glanced over, where Piers was glaring at the constable restraining him by the forearm. Dudley became tipsy, fell, brushed against the constable's belt, the pepper spray began to send out a misty cloud. Wheezing and coughing were heard as the ballroom quickly emptied. Handcuffs went around Dudley's and Piers' wrists as they were escorted outside by the constables.
SCREECH!
Motorists slammed on their brakes as the teenagers crowded onto Oxford Road.
"Biggest catch of the day," Jen muttered
"Meanest chap around—" Richard said.
"Good riddance," Harry said, "He's a wanker—"
"You know him?" Richard raised his eyebrows.
"His cousin," Ron replied.
"I fail to see the resemblance," Jen said.
"Thank you," Harry bowed to her.
Jen laughed until Richard's eyes moved to the intersection with Commercial, where police cruisers were parked to block it off. Standing in the middle of the intersection were Andy and Stephen Stewart.
"You treat—" Stephen shouted.
Harry worked his way around in the crowd forming about the feuding pair, Ron, Richard, and Jen were two steps behind.
"But I love—" Andy protested.
"After all—theft is how you repay—" Stephen said.
"I didn't—" Andy said.
"She's lying," Richard whispered into Harry's ear.
"Bollocks!" Stephen said, his fist and middle finger raised at her, "You stole from my wallet. You're cheating—"
"But—" Andy protested, tears were streaming down her face.
"And Henry Weber—" Stephen said.
"Nothing!" Andy replied
"More lies COW!" Stephen exclaimed, "Dennis caught you two on his bed on more than one—"
"He's lying!" Andy shouted, "It's way too small—"
"We're through," Stephen said, coldly.
"Stevie—" Andy pleaded.
"Goodbye." Stephen turned around.
"Maybe it'll teach her—" Richard whispered, his whisper drifted further than intended.
A glint of steel flickered as Andy's gaze landing upon Richard, her eyes fixated upon Richard.
"You bastard—" Andy screamed as she lunged, knife drawn, toward Richard.
Harry pushed, tackled Andy to the ground, and pinned her despite his cough from her liquor breath. Harry's bottle green eyes focused on the knife, she lost her grip, and it flew the few feet until a black boot stepped on it. Andy's eyes twitched, darted between Harry's eyes and the whites to the owner of the boot glaring back down at her.
"Thank you Harry," the owner of the boot said, "I'll will handle this from here."
"Mum!" Andy protested as Harry pulled her up to the boot owner.
"Andrea Fianna Osborn!" Kristen scolded, "Just what do you think…"
Harry grabbed Ron by the shoulder, they went back into the ballroom.
"Hermione," Harry said, "Less Mr. Granger think you're not treating her right."
"Yeah," Ron replied, "A little courage first."
Ron walked over to the food buffet.
…
Meanwhile, Hermione sat on the bench in the powder room of the ladies' suite. Gia sat. Hermione glanced at the knockers of Gia's low–cut blouse.
"You said he gave you something?" Gia asked.
"Yes," Hermione held the silver ring out.
"Pretty," Gia said.
Hermione glanced at the gold ring on Gia's right ring finger, she compared it to the one Ron gave her.
"It's not the metal, it's the passion behind it," Gia said, "You know Ron's situation."
"It's not that," Hermione said. She imagined Ron spent every Knut he owned on it, even if it weren't an expensive ring. Instead, her mind wrapped around that recurring nightmare, the dread of losing him in more ways than one made her hesitant, edgy.
"I flirt a lot," Gia said, "And you know what? Boys are boys, you can't expect them to change that. They may try, to appease you, but in the end, they are who they are. You know Ron, you know who he is, for good and for the bad, you know he'd go to the ends of the earth to protect you, to save you, to serve you; isn't that worth something?"
"I'm…" Hermione stopped, she was afraid he'd do just that.
"He definitely loves you," Gia said as her fingers closed to grip the ring between Hermione's fingers, "The question he's asked, the one only you can answer, do you still love him?"
Hermione sighed.
"I understand there's a lot of magic in love in … your world, right?" Gia asked.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"Harry rejects it, right?" Gia asked.
"Yes," Hermione said, "Ron's mentioned it, that Harry won't know its true if he did."
"Harry has his faults, I'm reminded of that every day as I change the sheets on the bed," Gia said, "But I'm not going to deny his nature to be who he is. He's taken to the flirt too, he practices on the others, uses it on me. What matters is his honesty, to me, that I can trust him even when he's under lust, that his heart is big, generous, and can handle many, many, loves, so I know he'll remain true to me."
"You two…" Hermione muttered.
"Harry loves you too," Gia said.
"I know," Hermione said.
"He'd love to see you and Ron make up," Gia said.
"This—it was tough watching Ron bang…" Hermione started.
"If I were you, I'd learn to trust Ron too," Gia said, "He's still a boy, in many ways, they never grow up, not really."
Hermione sighed, stood up, left the ladies room. She glanced, spotted Ron at the buffet, grabbing an stick of chicken. Ron grabbed a cup of the punch, took a sip as he ate.
"Hi Hermione," Harry said as he walked past, toward Gia coming out.
"Hi," Hermione said.
Hermione decided to play a tad harder, rather than walking right up to Ron, she glanced around, moved to the side, where Richard was leaning back with his blue shirt against the wall.
"How goes it?" Richard asked.
"I…um…" Hermione started, until she saw Harry running.
Harry ran fast toward Ron, whispered into Ron's ear. Ron surveyed the room, walked directly toward Hermione, his blue eyes fixated on her and approached.
"Care to…dance?" Ron asked.
"Um…yes," Hermione replied.
Ron held her hand, escorted her onto the dance floor, began the waltz he had learned back for the Yule ball a couple of years earlier. She watched his eyes remain on hers, the smile, the infectious grin he's picked up from Harry.
"Well," Ron said, "You know the answer, do you know the question?"
Ron remained patient, kept dancing, taking her along, and stumbling as he did so. She saw both the man Ron was becoming, and the boy that he was, the same boy who quickly mastered the swish and flick to help save her from the mountain troll five years earlier. The same boy who ate slugs because of the insults laid at her. The same boy who warned about Sirius in the Shrieking shack before they knew the truth. The same boy who cared deeply about her, very deep, and she didn't doubt that.
She heard the music encouraging her to turn around, examine herself, as they spun. Ron held on, pulled them a bit closer. His fingers felt hers, the ring finger missing the ring.
"I can wait," Ron whispered.
"I know," Hermione breathed in reply, softly.
Hermione let his chest sync up with hers, his breath across her face, she smelled the cologne, reminded her of the Burrow, the innocence that the name of Weasley tried to preserve, whether it stood or not, of that clock that Mrs. Weasley had, a clock that captured the essence of what mattered. Her insecurity about losing them, Ron, mattered, however, she realized that if she slipped wrong, she'd lose him right now, even with a crowd that had parted to give her and Ron the center of the dance floor.
"Well?" Ron asked as the spotlights trained on them.
Hermione took the ring out of her pocket, his fingers felt her slip it on. Ron kissed her as the music changed, a bit faster, when she felt his jacket vanish. She raised her eyebrows.
"Dunno," Ron muttered.
Hermione knew Ron well enough to know that he wouldn't lie, however, for them to read every detail—they typically left that to her. His bow tie vanished as her dress began to disintegrate.
"Seriously, not me," Ron said.
"I know," Hermione said, her eyes flickered over to Harry, grinning, "He…"
"Does it matter?" Ron asked as his shirt vanished.
Her bosom against his bare chest, his trousers vanished. Their socks, their shoes also disappeared. Last, their knickers gave up, dropped, leaving them starkers, in the middle of the dance floor, as the crowd watched them continue to dance. Catcalls came as Ron's arousal began to show. Hermione felt it press against her and felt at home. Unmasked, she smelled a bit of the drift from his armpits, light on the deodorant.
"You are worth the penalty," Ron whispered.
She felt him push inward, the confidence. All that mattered, in that moment, was that she was with Ron, together, that he did, indeed, love her. Despite his other shortcomings, Ron's love is what mattered most to her.
"I do love you," Ron said, his lips pushed onto hers, his tongue began to explore.
Ron did not rush as they both tuned out the crowd jeering and still catcalling, the audience that watched them bang under the spotlight, in the middle of the dance room. Another song, encouraged her to save the best for last, and she admitted to herself, as Ron explored her, that he was the best, for her. They reached bliss by the end of the song.
"No shame in loving you," Ron said, before he kissed her, again.
Hermione saw Linda Granger approach fast, scolding look in her eyes, before she whispered softly.
"That was magic!" Linda Granger scolded.
"I know," Hermione replied, "In every sense of the word."