Chapter 171: Heartbreak And Recovery
We had Herbology first thing the following morning. Harry filled us in about his lesson with Dumbledore as we walked across the vegetable patch toward the greenhouses. The weekend's brutal wind had died out at last; the weird mist had returned and it took us a little longer than usual to find the correct greenhouse.
"Wow, scary thought, the boy You-Know-Who," I said quietly, as we took our places around one of the gnarled Snargaluff stumps that formed this term's project, and began pulling on our protective gloves. "But I still don't get why Dumbledore's showing you all this. I mean, it's really interesting and everything, but what's the point?"
"Dunno," said Harry, inserting a gum shield. "But he says it's all important and it'll help me survive."
"I think it's fascinating," said Hermione. "It makes absolute sense to know as much about Voldemort as possible. How else will you find out his weaknesses?"
"So how was Slughorn's latest party?" Harry asked her thickly through the gum shield.
"Oh, it was quite fun, really," said Hermione, now putting on protective goggles. "I mean, he drones on about famous exploits a bit, and he absolutely fawns on McLaggen because he's so well connected, but he gave us some really nice food and he introduced us to Gwenog Jones."
"Gwenog Jones?" I said, my eyes widening. "The Gwenog Jones? Captain of the Holyhead Harpies?"
"That's right," said Hermione. "Personally, I thought she was a bit full of herself, but -"
"Quite enough chat over here!" said Professor Sprout briskly, bustling over and looking stern. "You're lagging behind, everybody else has started, and Neville's already got his first pod!"
We looked around; sure enough, there sat Neville with a bloody lip and several nasty scratches along the side of his face, but clutching an unpleasantly pulsating green object about the size of a grapefruit.
"Okay, Professor, we're starting now!" I said. I added in a whisper "Should've used Muffliato, Harry."
"No, we shouldn't!" said Hermione at once, looking, as she always did, intensely cross at the thought of the Half-Blood Prince and his spells. "Well, come on ... we'd better get going..."
She gave Harry and I an apprehensive look; we all took deep breaths and then dived at the gnarled stump between us.
It sprang to life at once; long, prickly, bramble-like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air. One tangled itself in Hermione's hair, and I beat it back with a pair of secateurs; Harry succeeded in trapping a couple of vines and knotting them together; a hole opened in the middle of all the tentacle-like branches; Hermione plunged her arm bravely into this hole, which closed like a trap around her elbow; Harry and I tugged and wrenched at the vines, forcing the hole to open again, and Hermione snatched her arm free, clutching in her fingers a pod just like Neville's. At once, the prickly vines shot back inside, and the gnarled stump sat there looking like an innocently dead lump of wood.
"You know, I don't think I'll be having any of these in my garden when I've got my own place," I breathed heavily, pushing my goggles up onto my forehead and wiping sweat from my face.
"Pass me a bowl," said Hermione, holding the pulsating pod at arm's length; Harry handed one over and she dropped the pod into it with a look of disgust on her face.
"Don't be squeamish, squeeze it out, they're best when they're fresh!" called Professor Sprout.
"Anyway," said Hermione, continuing our interrupted conversation as though a lump of wood had not just attacked us, "Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come."
Harry groaned. I was attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up, and squashing it as hard as I could.
"And this is another party just for Slughorn's favorites, is it?" I snapped.
"Just for the Slug Club, yes," said Hermione.
The pod flew out from under my fingers and hit the green house glass, rebounding onto the back of Professor Sprout's head and knocking off her old, patched hat. Harry went to retrieve the pod.
"Can't believe you have a name for that shit." I huffed.
"Look, I didn't make up the name 'Slug Club' -"
"'Slug Club,'" I sneered. "It's pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don't you try hooking up with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug!"
"We're allowed to bring guests," said Hermione, looking as if I had insulted her, "and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it's that stupid then I won't bother!"
I paused. My eyes once again grew big, and I could feel myself blushing everywhere.
"You were going to ask me?" I asked in a much calmer voice.
"Yes," said Hermione angrily. "But obviously if you'd rather I hooked up with McLaggen..."
"No, I wouldn't," I said quietly, still not believing my ears. Hermione grinned.
It was then that we heard a bowl shatter. Harry had missed hitting the pod, and had hit the bowl.
"Reparo," he said hastily, poking the pieces with his wand, and the bowl sprang back together again.
Hermione looked flustered and immediately started fussing about for her copy of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World to find out the correct way to juice Snargaluff pods, and I couldn't help but keep a small grin on my face..
"Hand that over, Harry," said Hermione hurriedly. "It says we're supposed to puncture them with something sharp."
Harry passed her the pod in the bowl; he and I both snapped our goggles back over our eyes and dived, once more, for the stump.
"Gotcha!" I yelled, pulling a second pod from the stump just as Hermione managed to burst the first one open, so that the bowl was full of tubers wriggling like pale green worms.
The rest of the lesson passed without further mention of Slughorn's party, though that was the only thing that was on my mind. Hermione actually wanted me to go with her to this party. While I still thought that the Slug Club meetings were idiotic, it felt good that one as invited to one, and even better that it was Hermione that had invited me.
However, I really didn't know what it meant. Was this just a friend thing, or was it a date. Were we to be a couple? Did this mean she fancied me and not Harry? What was I to do? Was I supposed to get her flowers? Bloody hell, were we going to kiss?!
The thoughts of the party continued to plague my mind as Hermione went off to her Arithmancy class. She was starting to act a bit more sweet to me, which was somewhat unusual, but very much appreciated.
I didn't know if I wanted to talk to Harry about how I felt. We had discussed girls before somewhat, but we had never really had a full blown in depth conversation about them, and never ever about Hermione. Besides he had more important things than my feelings for our best mate to deal with.
Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo's Hospital with no prospect of leaving, which meant that the promising Gryffindor team Harry had been training so carefully since September was one Chaser short. He kept putting off replacing Katie in the hope that she would return, but our opening match against Slytherin was looming, and he finally had to accept that she would not be back in time to play.
Harry said he didn't want another full-House tryout, so he asked Dean after Transfiguration one day. Apparently Seamus didn't like that at all, and he showed it by slamming a book. It was his own fault. He wasn't a good as a Chaser as Dean was, so Harry had made the right decision.
Unfortunately, Seamus was not the only person angry by the choice of Katie's substitute. There was much muttering in the common room about the fact that Harry had now chosen two of his classmates for the team, thinking that Harry was showing favoritism. Harry, though bothered by the whispers, did not regret his choice because Dean worked well with Ginny and Demelza. The Beaters, Peakes and Coote, were getting better all the time.
I seemed to be the only fucking problem, and no matter what Harry said otherwise, I knew that I sucked.
After letting in half a dozen goals, most of them scored by Ginny, I became more and more frustrated, and I ended up accidentally punching an oncoming Demelza in the mouth.
"It was an accident, I'm sorry, Demelza, really sorry!" I shouted after her as she zigzagged back to the ground, dripping blood everywhere. "I just -"
"Panicked," Ginny said angrily, landing next to Demelza and examining her fat lip. "You prat, Ron, look at the state of her!"
"I SAID I WAS FUCKING SORRY!'
"I can fix that," said Harry, landing beside the two girls, pointing his wand at Demelza's mouth, and saying "Episkey." "And Ginny, don't call Ron a prat, you're not the Captain of this team-"
"Well, you seemed too busy to call him a prat and I thought someone should-"
"In the air, everyone, let's go..." said Harry.
Overall it was one of the worst practices we had had all term, despite what Harry was saying.
"Good work, everyone, I think we'll flatten Slytherin," he said, and the Chasers and Beaters left the changing room looking reasonably happy with themselves.
"I played like a sack of dragon shit," I said in a hollow voice when the door had swung shut behind Ginny.
"No, you didn't," said Harry firmly. "You're the best Keeper I tried out, Ron. Your only problem is nerves."
"Harry, don't lie to me. I bombed. I'm terrible. I'm going to make the team look like shit come game day. It's not too late to get McLaggen on."
"Fuck McLaggen, I would never let him on the team, no matter how good he is." said Harry as we headed back into the school. "As I said, it's only nerves. You can manage that. You're way better than fucking McLaggen and you better not ever say otherwise."
I felt a bit better with that. "Thanks, Harry. " I said.
"Whatever. Just don't ever compare yourself to that wanker ever again."
When Harry pushed open the tapestry to take our usual shortcut up to Gryffindor Tower, however, we found ourselves looking at Dean and Ginny, who were locked in a close embrace and kissing fiercely as though glued together.
I felt like I was going to throw up. Dean looked as if he was going to inhale my fucking sister!
"Oi!"I yelled.
Dean and Ginny broke apart and looked around.
"What?" said Ginny.
"I don't want to find my own sister snogging people in public!" I demanded.
"This was a deserted corridor till you came butting in!" said Ginny.
Dean was looking embarrassed. "Er... c'mon, Ginny, let's go back to the common room..."
"You go!" said Ginny. "I want a word with my dear brother!"
Dean left, looking as though he was not sorry to depart the scene.
"Right," said Ginny, tossing her long red hair out of her face and glaring at me, "let's get this straight once and for all. It is none of your business who I go out with or what I do with them, Ron!"
"Yeah, it is! D'you think I want people saying my sister's a -"
"A what?" shouted Ginny, drawing her wand. "A what, exactly?"
I didn't know how to say a Scarlet woman without making it seem like I was calling her that personally. Never would I think of her in that way, but I be damned if anyone called her that shit. I'd hex them.
"He doesn't mean anything, Ginny." said Harry, putting a hand in my chest.
"Oh yes he does!" she said, flaring up at Harry. "Just because he's never snogged anyone in his life, just because the best kiss he's ever had is from our Auntie Muriel -"
No this bitch didn't!
"Shut your fucking mouth!" I yelled, feeling myself growing more enraged by the second.
"No, I will not!" yelled Ginny, beside herself. "I've seen you with Phlegm, hoping she'll kiss you on the cheek every time you see her, it's pathetic! If you went out and got a bit of snogging done yourself, you wouldn't mind so much that everyone else does it!"
I pulled out my wand at the same time Ginny drew hers; Harry stepped swiftly between us.
"You don't know what you're talking about!" I roared, trying to get a clear shot at Ginny around Harry, who was now standing in front of her with his arms outstretched. "Just because I don't do it in public!"
Ginny screamed with maniacal laughter, trying to push Harry out of the way.
"Been kissing Pigwidgeon, have you? Or have you got a picture of Auntie Muriel stashed under your pillow?" You -
I couldn't believe my own fucking sister was talking to me as if I was some tosser who knew nothing! True, the only real kissing I had done was a peck from Hermione in fourth year, a fee kisses on the cheeks, and then that night at the Burrow, but it was a hell of a lot more than she had ever done, the stupid bint!
I let off a streak of orange light, and it flew under Harry's left arm and missed Ginny by inches; Harry pushed me up against the wall.
"Don't be stupid!"
"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"
And with that, she stormed away, and the record scratched in my head. I didn't even realize that Harry had let go of me. We both stood there, breathing heavily, until Mrs. Norris appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.
"C'mon," said Harry, as the sound of Filch's shuffling feet reached our ears.
We hurried up the stairs and along a seventh-floor corridor. "Oi, out of the way!" I barked at a small girl who jumped in fright and dropped a bottle of toad-spawn.
Hermione snogged Krum? She really snogged him? So she had lied to me when she said that the bitch only gave her a two second peck?!
I ripped open the tapestry curtain and stuck my wand violently back into my pocket. I was shocked I didn't break it.
"I can't believe she betrayed me." I mumbled to myself. "She's supposed to be my friend...and she fucking lied."
I couldn't tell if Harry had heard me or not. For some reason, he looked just as upset as I was.
"D'you think Hermione did snog Krum?" I asked abruptly, as we approached the Fat Lady.
"What?" he said confusedly. "Oh ... er ..."
Harry looked as if he wanted to say no, but yes was written pitifully on his face.
"Dilligrout," I said darkly to the Fat Lady, and we climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.
Neither of us mentioned Ginny or Hermione again; indeed, we barely spoke to each other that evening and got into bed in silence, each absorbed in our own thoughts.
She had lied to me. Hermione never lied to me, and she had lied on something that was huge. She could have told me the truth. Sure, I would have been pissed to no end, and I would have more than likely went to find the tosser and hex his lips off his face, but I wouldn't have been upset with her for very long.
I laid in bed and stared up at the wooden ceiling of my four poster. If Hermione lied about that fucking snog, what else had she lied about? Was her and Krum really a thing? Had she only said she was going to ask me to that stupid party because she didn't want me knowing she actually felt something for McLaggen?
My mind raced a mile a minute until I fell asleep. I didn't dream anything, and if I did, I was probably too angry to remember.
The next morning I woke up feeling even worse about what had happened. Seeing Hermione's face first thing when I got to the common room didn't make it any better.
"Morning!" she said cheerfully to Harry and I. I completely ignored her and walked past, heading down to breakfast. I didn't talk to her at all for the entire day. I probably glanced at her about five times, and while she looked confused by my actions, she didn't even try to ask what was wrong, which made me feel like she truly didn't care.
My bad mood did not wear off over the next few days. In fact, it got even worse. It even interfered with my Keeping skills. During the final Quidditch practice before Saturday's match, I failed to save every single goal the Chasers aimed at me, but bellowed at everybody so much that I reduced Demelza to tears, which I didn't even care about
"You shut up and leave her alone!" shouted Peakes, who was about two-thirds my height, though admittedly carrying a heavy bat.
"ENOUGH!" bellowed Harry. "Peakes, go and pack up the Bludgers. Demelza, pull yourself together, you played really well today. Ron..." he waited until the rest of the team were out of earshot before saying it, "you're my best mate, but carry on treating the rest of them like this and I'm going to kick you off the team."
"I resign. I'm pathetic." I said, sagging on my broom, admitting defeat .
"You're not pathetic and you're not resigning!" said Harry fiercely, seizing me by the front of his robes. "You can save anything when you're on form, it's a mental problem you've got!"
"You calling me mental?"
"Yeah, maybe I am!"
We glared at each other for a moment, then I shook my head wearily.
"I know you haven't got any time to find another Keeper, so I'll play tomorrow, but if we lose, and we will, I'm taking myself off the team."
Nothing Harry said made any difference. He tried boosting my confidence all through dinner, but I was too absorbed with being angry Hermione to truly notice. Harry persisted in the common room that evening, but his assertion that the whole team would be devastated if I left was somewhat undermined by the fact that the rest of the team was sitting in a huddle in a distant corner, clearly muttering about me and casting me nasty looks. Finally Harry tried getting angry again in the hope of provoking me into a defiant, and hopefully goal-saving, attitude, but this strategy did not appear to work any better than encouragement. I simply didn't want to deal with it.
I laid in bed reflecting over the past few days. I really was acting like a fucking brute, and Hermione didn't know why, which was making it worse. She was probably scared that I would snap at her, which is why she didn't say anything to me. I made a mental note to at least try to talk to her after the game and tell her how I was feeling, so I could hear her side.
Breakfast was the usual excitable affair next morning; the Slytherins hissed and booed loudly as every member of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall.
The Gryffindor table, a solid mass of red and gold, cheered as Harry and I approached. Harry grinned and waved; I grimaced weakly and shook his head.
"Cheer up, Ron!" called Lavender. "I know you'll be brilliant!"
I ignored her. I didn't want to take my mood or on her.
"Tea?" Harry asked me. "Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"
"Anything," I said glumly, taking a moody bite of toast.
A few minutes later Hermione, paused on her way up the table.
"How are you both feeling?" I heard her ask.
"Fine," said Harry, handing me a glass of pumpkin juice. "There you go, Ron. Drink up."
I had just raised the glass to my lips when Hermione spoke sharply.
"Don't drink that, Ron!"
Both Harry and I looked up at her.
"Why not?" I said.
Hermione was now staring at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes.
"You just put something in that drink."
"Excuse me?" said Harry.
"You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron's drink. You've got the bottle in your hand right now!"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, stowing a little bottle hastily in his pocket.
"Ron, I warn you, don't drink it!" Hermione said again, alarmed, but I picked up the glass and drained it in one gulp.
"Stop bossing me around, Hermione." I said, thinking that Harry had put some of his Felix Felicis in my drink.
I felt as if everything was going to go right. I bet I could have won the Quidditch World Cup if we were playing for that. I had barely noticed that Hermione has stormed off.
"Nearly time," said Harry excitedly.
The frosty grass crunched underfoot as we strode down to the stadium.
"Pretty lucky the weather's this good, eh?" Harry asked me.
"Yeah," I said, feeling a bit better with each step I took.
Ginny and Demelza were already wearing their Quidditch robes and waiting in the changing room.
"Conditions look ideal," said Ginny, ignoring me. "And guess what? That Slytherin Chaser Vaisey - he took a Bludger in the head yesterday during their practice, and he's too sore to play! And even better than that-Malfoy's gone off sick too!"
"What?" said Harry, wheeling around to stare at her. "He's ill? What's wrong with him?"
"No idea, but it's great for us," said Ginny brightly. "They're playing Harper instead; he's in my year and he's an idiot."
"Fishy, isn't it?" Harry said to me. "Malfoy not playing?"
"Lucky, I call it," I said, feeling even more better. "And Vaisey off too, he's their best goal scorer, I didn't fancy-hey!"
"What?"
"I... you...My drink ... my pumpkin juice ... you didn't...?"
Harry raised his eyebrows, but said nothing except, "We'll be starting in about five minutes, you'd better get your boots on."
I didn't know if I should have felt bad that he felt I needed lucky potion to win, or excited that Harry had thought to give me some of it. We walked out onto the pitch to tumultuous roars and boos. One end of the stadium was solid red and gold; the other, a sea of green and silver. Many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had taken sides too: amidst all the yelling and clapping, I could distinctly hear the roar of Luna Lovegood's famous lion-topped hat.
I flew into position at the hoops, my game face on.
I was ready. Today, Ron Weasley was going to keep like I had never kept before.
The whistle sounded, Harry and the others kicked off hard from the frozen ground, and they were away.
"Well, there they go, and I think we're all surprised to see the team that Potter's put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley's patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help..."
These words were greeted with jeers and applause from the Slytherin end of the pitch. I looked over and seen that the fucking tosser Zacharias Smith was commentating.
I blocked out his commentary and focused on the Slytherin heading towards me. He looked a bit shaky as he launched the quaffle towards the hoops. I flew towards it and-
"- Weasley saves it, well, he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose..."
"Fuck you, Smith." I said to myself as I heard cheers from all around.
With half an hour of the game gone, Gryffindor were leading sixty points to zero, I had made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of my gloves, and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor's six goals. This effectively stopped Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys were only there because Harry liked them, and he started on Peakes and Coote instead.
"Of course, Coote isn't really the usual build for a Beater," said Zacharias loftily, "they've generally got a bit more muscle -"
It seemed as though we could do no wrong. Again and again we scored, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, I saved goals with apparent ease. I was actually smiling now, and when the crowd greeted a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favorite "Weasley Is Our King," I pretended to conduct them from on high.
I looked over and seen Lavender almost falling from the stands as she cheered me on. Hermione however, was less than enthusiastic. However, she did clap a couple of times, though it seemed forced.
"And I think Harper of Slytherin's seen the Snitch!" I heard Zacharias say. "Yes, he's certainly seen something Potter hasn't!"
Smith really was an idiot. All of Slytherin seemed to have stopped playing and looked at Harry and Harper chase after the snitch.
Harry accelerated, but Harper was still ahead of him, and Gryffindor was only a hundred points up; if Harper got there first Gryffindor had lost... and now Harper was feet from it, his hand outstretched...
Harry looked as if he had yelled something at Harper, who did a double-take; he fumbled the Snitch, let it slip through his fingers, and shot right past it. Harry made a great swipe for the tiny, fluttering ball and caught it.
The crowd went wild and all of us cheered as Harry held out his hand, the Snitch fluttering obediently between his fingers. I watched as Ginny sped right past him until, with an almighty crash, she collided with the commentator's podium. As the crowd shrieked and laughed, the rest of us landed beside the wreckage of wood under which Zacharias was feebly stirring,
"Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry." said Ginny innocently to Professor McGonagall
The atmosphere in the changing room was jubilant. "Party up in the common room, Seamus said!" yelled Dean exuberantly. "C'mon, Ginny, Demelza!"
Harry and I were the last two in the changing room. We were just about to leave when Hermione entered. She was twisting her Gryffindor scarf in her hands and looked upset but determined.
"I want a word with you, Harry." She took a deep breath. "You shouldn't have done it. You heard Slughorn, it's illegal."
"What are you going to do, turn us in?" I snapped.
"What are you two talking about?" asked Harry, turning away to hang up his robes.
"You know perfectly well what we're talking about!" said Hermione shrilly. "You spiked Ron's juice with lucky potion at breakfast! Felix Felicis!"
"No, I didn't," said Harry, turning back to face us.
"Yes you did, Harry, and that's why everything went right, there were Slytherin players missing and Ron saved everything!"
"I didn't put it in!" said Harry, grinning broadly. He slipped his hand inside his jacket pocket and drew out the tiny bottle. It was full of golden potion and the cork was still tightly sealed with wax. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it, so I faked it when I knew you were looking." He looked at me. "You saved everything because you felt lucky. You did it all yourself."
He pocketed the potion again.
"There really wasn't anything in my pumpkin juice?" I said, astounded. "But the weather's good... and Vaisey couldn't play... I honestly haven't been given lucky potion?"
Harry shook his head. I gaped at him for a moment, positively shell shocked. I had done it. I had done it all on my own. I was actually good!
The happy feeling quickly disappeared when I seen Hermione's dumbfounded face .
"You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything!" I said, mimicking her voice.
Hermione looked as if she was searching for a valid excuse.
"See! I can save goals without help, Hermione!" I yelled, feeling hurt that she actually didn't have the faith in me as she had said she did. Great. She had lied about that too.
"I never said you couldn't - Ron, you thought you'd been given it too!"
But I had already strode past her out of the door with my broomstick over my shoulder, heading towards the common room.
Fucking great. Hermione had not only lies about snogging that tosser Krum, but she had also lied every time she said I was good and every time she said that she had faith in me. Was our whole friendship a lie? Did she lie about how she felt about my family? My home?
I was done with her. I didn't want to have another thought of her in my head. I decided to hell with my feelings since she clearly lied about everything. I didn't even know if I even wanted to be her friend.
As soon as I walked into the portrait hole, the common room burst into cheers.
"WEASLEY IS OUR KING! WEASLEY IS OUR KING!" the room chanted as I stood in the middle of it.
It felt great, having everyone focus on me for once. Yes Harry had caught the snitch, but I had kept a flawless game, and I had won it for us as well.
Suddenly I felt a body crash into me. I looked down and seen Lavender clutching onto me tightly. Then she let me go, and her smile almost left her face.
"You were so brilliant, Ron! I knew you could do it!" she said, jumping up and down.
I couldn't help but feel grateful to her. Here I was concentrating on Hermione, and she didn't give a damn about me as she lied, and Lavender was right here all along, cheering for me.
"Well thanks, Lav. Thanks for-"
And I was immediately cut off my Lavender's lips colliding into mine.
It took me a couple seconds to realize what was happening, but as soon as I did, I began to kiss her back. This felt way different from the tiny peck that Hermione had given me fourth year. I could actually taste Lavender's cherry lip gloss. What's more, her tongue was entering my mouth. We were snogging, actually fucking snogging!
It was like all the cheers had disappeared, and we were the only people in the room. My tongue caught the rhythm of hers, and I began to snog her back. This felt unbelievable! How the bloody hell had I missed out on doing this?!
"Get a room!" I finally hears my sister shout. I broke the kiss and looked over at her. She was smirking, but it was comical, so I guess it meant that she and I would be okay. I reminded myself to apologize to her sometime. I could see why she felt she could snog wherever she wanted.
"Come on Ron, let's go somewhere a bit less crowded." I hears Lavender whisper cheerfully in my ear. I had no reason to object, so I let her grab my hand and pull me out of the common room.
We ran, laughing as we went, searching for an empty broom closet or classroom. Finally, we ran into a classroom, where inside sat Harry and Hermione.
"Oh," I said, drawing up short at the sight of Harry and Hermione. What was going on here? Were they snogging too?
"Oops!" said Lavender, and she backed out of the room, giggling. The door swung shut behind her.
Hermione was staring at me, but I had looked away when I seen that she actually looked hurt.
"Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!" I said awkwardly, trying my best to ignore Hermione.
Hermione slid off the desk. She had a small flock of canaries twittering and flying around her head like a halo. She looked like a hurt angel, and I couldn't help but feel a slight pull at her.
"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," she said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone."
For some reason, her saying those words cut deep. I didn't want to feel a thing. I had conversed with myself to not feel anything. But everything in me wanted to reach out and touch her as she passed by me.
"Oppugno!" she shrieked, turning towards Mr and pointing her wand at my face, her expression wild.
The little flock of birds was speeding like those muggle things called rockets toward me. I covered my face with my hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach.
"Gerremoffme!" I yelled, fighting at the birds, but they continued to scratch and in the midst of the violent chirping, I could have sworn I heard Hermione let out a sob as she slammed the door.