High Dudgeon or the Love Affairs of Hermione Granger

High Dudgeon or the Love Affairs of Hermione Granger

Part II

Before and Including Fifth Year~

I was sitting on my front porch, holding a crumpled piece of parchment in my hand and sitting on my trunk when my summer before fifth year officially began. It was an early day in June, balmy and pleasant, and I could hear my mum's radio blaring from the kitchen inside.

"Did you pack enough floss, Hermione? I wouldn't want you running out, you know. And God knows when you'll be in a normal grocery store again to buy some..." my mother asked from the window.

"I think I've got enough, thanks Mum," I answered as my dad came around the house from the backyard, smelling of lawn clippings and looking warm.

"Mione, I was just thinking... have you packed enough floss?" I only sigh, and he walked away.

I got Ron's letter only a few days ago. It was short, to the point, and ridiculing. I unfolded the worn bit of parchment and read it again.

Hermione,

I hope I'm not interrupting your reading for next year's classes or disturbing your writing to tell Vicky that you're packed and ready for Bulgaria. I'm writing to ask you to come and stay with us for a few weeks (or possibly the entire summer?) I don't know. Mum and Dad think it's the best thing that you should come, considering recent events. If you can make it, we'll come get you on Monday at four. You'll have to pack some grubby clothes (more details later). Ginny says she's dying to see you. Send Pig back as soon as possible.

-Ron

I sighed at his letter. I can't believe I'm going to spend the summer with him instead of with Viktor. It's incredible. I was anticipating it all, nevertheless. Besides, Viktor was finished as far as I was concerned. I had told him I wouldn't be coming to visit him.

Cars silently rolled down the gravelly street, kicking up clouds of brown dust, forming a sort of haze, and blurring the neighbor's tulip patch across the street. I leaned my head on my hand as I waited for some sign of them. My watch said 4:21 and I wasn't terribly surprised they were late. Just as my eyelids were starting to droop, I heard a loud BANG that echoed across the suburbs and made me fall off my trunk.

When I recovered my footing, I saw a large purple triple-decker bus parked out in front of my driveway. A few moments later, and a tall, red-haired yet balding man stepped off of the bus followed by a younger woman with short purple hair and patched jeans.

"Hello Hermione," said a smiling, but somewhat subdued Mr. Weasley as he approached my front step and picked up my trunk. "This is Tonks, Hermione. Ron and Ginny obviously wanted to come with and fetch you, but well... Molly thought it best that they stayed home."

"So, we're going to the Burrow, then?" I asked without any serious doubt.

"Not exactly," said Tonks with a wink. Once we were all on the Knight bus, I started asking questions, only to be shushed by the pair of them.

"You'll find out soon enough," was their only reply, so I sat back in my armchair and attempted to enjoy the rather bumpy ride to I didn't know where. The grim expression on Mr. Weasley's face was worrying me. I had a strange sense of foreboding as the bus's many armchairs jostled around, and I was going to say something when Tonks interrupted me.

"Ginny will be glad to see you," Tonks said with a smile in my direction, "She's been talking about you for awhile... And Ron too, come to think of it."

Mr. Weasley smiled as though to say he had observed it too, and I felt a slight wriggling in the pit of my stomach after they'd mentioned Ron's name. Then I shook my head. It's only motion sickness... He's totally oblivious.

After the space of an hour or so, I began to recognize the familiar London backdrop, and was surprised and pleased to think I could get a little shopping done at last. The bus did not drop us off in front of any shops, unfortunately, but in a rather dingy part of town near some derelict flats. I was puzzled, but still I followed Mr. Weasley and Tonks into a small courtyard where a new flat suddenly opened up between two others. I stood and marveled at the magic for a moment before being summoned inside number twelve.

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I find myself installed in a small room, containing two beds and hardly any light at all. Ginny's things were scattered across one of the beds and most of the floor, and as I was taking the liberty of scooting some of her clothes onto her side of the room with my foot, the door behind me opened revealing the brother and sister.

"It's so good to see you, Hermione," Ginny said, embracing me and laughing as she looked over my shoulder. "I'm sorry I didn't pick up before you came, but they're planning the next meeting time down there, and Fred and George forced their Extendable Ears on me..."

"I'm sorry, Extendable Ears?"

"They enable you to hear under doors and through keyholes and all that," she explained.

"Have they still been working on their joke shop?" I asked.

"Yep," said Ron from a corner, inspecting Ginny's mess. "They seem more devoted to it than ever, even though Mum said she wouldn't allow them to take their Apparition Tests next week if she saw any more of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes." After a short pause, my curiosity got the better of me.

"Now, what meetings are you talking about Ginny?"

"Do you mean to say Dad and Tonks didn't tell you?"

"No, it was really rather frustrating, suffering through their stony faces on the ride here."

"I can imagine," Ron said with a scoff, "This is the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. It's Sirius's old house." Being not a little flabbergasted to find myself in such a place, I let them finish their story without interruption. Ginny suggested we go down and say hello to everybody and so we all moved to the door.

"I'm glad you're here Hermione," Ron said, slapping me on the shoulder and smiling slightly. We were both standing in the narrow doorway, and our faces were only a couple of inches apart. Ron stared at me for a moment, and then walked through the door into the hall. My stomach got that fluttery feeling again, so I thought I could safely rule out motion sickness.

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As I laid in the musty darkness of our room in Grimmauld Place, I traced the faint glow of light through the doorframe. I could hear the cautious steps of someone coming upstairs. I held my breath for a few moments, trying to hear who it was. Ginny snorted in her sleep as the silent feet mounted the next flight of stairs. I clutched the covers closer to me and rolled over in agitation. I couldn't sleep. I glared over at Ginny with envy, her mouth was slightly open and her breathing steady.

On the nightstand there were several little boxes of mint floss, belonging to me, a hairbrush belonging to Ginny, and a picture of the Weasley family, minus Percy for understandable reasons. There was a sort of creaking comfort to number twelve that I hadn't anticipated when I first arrived. At first glance, the place seems nothing more than a dilapidated old building with nothing remotely comforting about it. But, after spending a few days here, it isn't so bad.

I didn't understand why I couldn't sleep. I was probably in the safest place a person could possibly be in - unplottable, hidden with the aid of a secret keeper, not to mention the swarms of Aurors that crept in and out. But despite all this, there was a sort of turmoil in my head that would admit no rest, and since any attempt to sleep would be fruitless, I resolved to do some reading. I quietly hopped out of bed, grabbed my wand and my book, and crept back into bed as softly as ever I could.

"Lumos," I muttered and a thin beam of light shot from my wand and onto my book. I glimpsed somewhat anxiously at Ginny - I didn't want to wake her up, and to my chagrin, I didn't.

I wasn't more than five pages along in my book when I heard a faint scuffling in the hall. As I prayed to God there wasn't a rat, or some other creature in our room, I was startled by a very faint knock at the door.

"Who's that?" I whispered, realizing my wand glow would have given me away.

"Hermione? I know you're awake... let me in." It was Ron's voice. I threw my robe about my shoulders and opened the door to see the tall, bleary-eyed and slightly ruffled Ron in the doorway also holding his wand alight.

"What's the matter?" I asked in some anxiety, "Did Kreacher come into your room again?"

"No, I just couldn't sleep. It's awfully lonely in that room... So when I saw a light from your room I thought since you're awake, that - Do you mind if I come in?"

"No, of course not," and I made way for him. He too glanced jealously at the sleeping Ginny and said, "Well, she's alright then, at least."

"What's the matter Ron?" I asked again.

"It's just this place is getting to me. And, well... I just wish we knew more about what was going on out there."

"You're thinking of telling Harry, aren't you? Ron, you know your parents said he isn't to know anything about this," I remonstrated.

"I know, but it seems unfair, doesn't it? That we get to stay here together while he's stuck with those Muggles..."

"Even Dumbledore told us-"

"I know what Dumbledore said, ok? It still doesn't feel right." After a short pause, in which I contemplated our situation, I said:

"Well, it's not that great being here is it? There's nothing exactly spectacular about a moldy decrepit building..."

"Sorry I wrote you," he said sounding slightly disappointed. "I just thought you'd want to be here at least since Harry can't. I'd bet he'd kill to be here right now."

"Well, I didn't mean it like that. I'd rather be here than at home. It's dreadfully dull."

"What, the seventeenth reading of Hogwarts, A History wasn't thrilling enough to keep you at home?" he asked with a grin and shoved me. I couldn't help smiling although he was making fun of me.

"It's not fair," he continued, "Harry should be here." Ron stood up and paced our room with a scowl. He stopped in front of a dresser where I had stacked all of my summer reading.

"I'm here, at least," I said, hoping maybe that would comfort him.

"Yeah, you are," he said with a smile, coming over to sit on the bed again. "Thanks Hermione."

"Not a problem," I said shrugging it off, smiling inside. He stood up once more, and made for the door. Ginny turned and snorted in her sleep. Ron laughed and opened the door, returning to his room.

Once the door closed on him, I lay back on my pillows and thought that maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad summer after all.

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A few days later, I discovered what the grubby clothes were for. I agreed to help clean up the house, not having any other choice from the look on Mrs. Weasley's face. At any rate, I thought, it might help out Kreacher although he is something... odd. I entered the moldy drawing room that day with a feeling of apprehension. I hung back a few moments, surveying the others. Ron was staring at something in a glass cabinet, and Mrs. Weasley was employed scraping a sticky substance off of one of the walls. Fred and George were looking mischievous as usual near the curtained windows.

George bent down to scrape something black and disgusting off the carpet. He scraped it onto a handkerchief and put it in his pocket.

"George Weasley - What in Merlin's name are you doing with that Doxy dung?" demanded Mrs. Weasley.

"I fancied some on my toast tomorrow morning. You don't mind, do you Mum?" he replied dryly.

"Hand it over, George."

"I wasn't actually going to eat it..." I laughed slightly as their argument developed. Ron heard me and turned around.

"Come on," he said, leading me out of the room, "Let's go play some chess or something." I had to follow; my feet led me along without a second thought.

As soon as we were seated in Ron's room, he heaved a sigh.

"I don't know what to do about these," he said gesturing to a stack of letters on a table. I approached them and recognized that they were from Harry.

"Well, we have to respond, obviously... But what do we say?" I looked at him anxiously.

"That's the problem isn't it? I don't think we should let him know we're together. He'd be flaming mad if he knew and couldn't come here."

"Yes - and its better in case any letters are intercepted. That way nothing will seem unusual. No need to give him any extra anxiety."

"Right. Let's sort through them then, and try answering. I don't know what we're going to say."

I stared at my piece of parchment blankly. I wasn't thinking about Harry so much as what Ron had just said. There was something about the two of us being together that did seem underhanded and traitorous, when I came to think about it. The way we looked at each other when one or other of us made a joke, or the way Ron was always leading me off to play chess, got me to wondering about what our relationship was all about. I had my hopes, certainly, but my experience with Viktor the past year made it seem like I was ahead of Ron in some respects. Some moments, black and disgusting as they were, I knew that Ron was never going to think of me other than as one of his 'mates', and then there were other times when hope got the better of me as I caught and returned his smiling glance or understood him when others didn't. We were pretending - saying Harry would be mad just at the thought of us being here at Sirius's house, not at the thought of us being together and having a good time without him. I, for one, wasn't sure which would make Harry angrier, but I could imagine him being pretty mad at both. I looked up from my parchment which was still unusually blank, and caught Ron's gaze. My stomach flipped over, and I tried to cover my embarrassment.

"I- I don't know what to write. There doesn't seem to be anything we can say, does there?"

"No," he said shaking his head a little as though trying to clear it. "Let's just leave it for tomorrow. Then maybe Lupin will be back and he can help us."

"Good idea," I said putting my quill down. We sat in silence until Ron broke it.

"Hermione I -" he began, and I looked up hopefully. He was gazing at our hands on the table. They were both reached out towards the other's but nearly a foot apart. An image flashed through my head, of our two hands connected, and Ron smiling, but when the image faded, twelve inches of wooden table still lay between them, and Ron was frowning, trying to say something intangible and failing. "Let's go find Ginny," he finished lamely, and looking disappointed. I tried hard to shake that image off all day, but it wouldn't leave.

I even dreamt about it that night and pictured the beautiful room in which Viktor had kissed me, but Ron was there in his stead. I dreamt wonderful things, things which I would never tell another living soul, where I was comfortable and loved instead of frightened and just admired.

To my very great surprise, I woke up in Ron's room, in the spare bed. Ron was sitting on the edge of his bed with his pajama t-shirt on that clung attractively tight to his skin. He stood up and was wearing only boxers. He walked to the chest of drawers and then turned around, jumping to find me looking at him.

"I didn't know you were awake," he said rummaging in the drawers now, and pulling on some cotton pants.

"Only just," I said. "How did I end up in here?" I asked half-frightened at what the answer would be.

"You came in here at about three o'clock in the morning. I figured you were just sleep-walking, so I steered you over to the bed and you calmed right down."

"Oh," I said blushing consciously at what I had done, "Thanks for that."

"No problem. You'd better get back in your room before someone sees," he told me, and I agreed wholeheartedly. I went up to him gratefully and kissed him on the cheek out of impulse. He looked at me and smiled a little bewildered. I ran out of the room.

That was the day Harry finally came, and the day that changed things between Ron and me. He was being wonderful all morning and afternoon, then when Harry showed up he was talking to me as though I were his, saying, "Let him breathe, Hermione," in a way that signified a confidence between us which made me glow. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't in the right humor to encourage such behavior. His anger made Ron and me distant. There was to be no more creeping into each others rooms at all hours. Things had changed, and I felt like my heart had been broken without anything having happened at all.

Everything after that tasted like anticlimax, and I wrote wistfully to Viktor, trying to tell myself that I really was desirable once to someone at least, and attempting to console my longings with that.

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That whole year, Ron would seek out my company more often than I had been accustomed to. There were times when it was just the two of us, and Harry would be off somewhere being important. Ron and I would do our prefect duties together, and take walks to and from places. It was a comfortable existence, and at least I felt that I was valued somewhat.

I thought about telling him how I felt practically every time we ended up alone together. But somehow, we always ended in bickering which frustrated me and Ron, unfortunately increasing this sexual tension I had been sensing ever since that first night in Grimmauld Place. I tried to think about somebody else who would be good for me, but nobody came to mind other than Ron. I realized I was sunk, just as the ship was going under.

The night that we all went to the Department of Mysteries leaves me feeling blank inside, as though part of my spirit had fled from me when that Death Eater took a swipe at me. I tried to think about what it was that made me feel so empty, and couldn't place it. However, what with Sirius dying, and all of the injuries we had sustained during the battle, I couldn't focus long enough on anything to have it make much sense.

I laid there in the dark hospital wing one night, listening to Umbridge's uneasy breathing and twisted in my covers, wincing as I did so. Ron heard me in the next bed. He sat up, and got out of bed and came to sit on the end of mine.

"Are you alright Mione?" he asked with a touch of his old former concern.

"Fine Ron, just a little sore, you know." He looked at me rather pained, I thought. Before I knew it, he was stroking my hand affectionately and my heart jumped in my throat. It had happened, just like that - my vision came true.

"You're coming to stay with us and Harry this summer," he told me.

"Yes," I said, acknowledging the fact, as if there had never been any doubt that I would come spend the summer with him. He let go of my hand and returned to his own bed, sighing as he did so. I had this strange sensation that everything was going to be okay... at least for the time being, so I put my head down on my pillow, facing Ron's bed, and watched his sleeping face. It was at that moment that I realized truly how much I felt for him, as he was sleeping innocently there next to me. He was the reason I couldn't focus on my homework some nights, due to all of his bickering with me using arguments that somehow seemed to be true. I sighed once at the hopelessness of it all, and again at the hope I was cherishing.

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On the train ride home I noticed Ron's attempt to hint to Ginny that she should like Harry again and smiled. At least he wasn't totally devoid of tact in that department. The dead look I noticed in Harry's eyes was still there, but I hoped that in time he would accept the fact that Sirius couldn't come back, and move on. I covertly glanced up at Ron from time to time, hoping he would begin talking about plans for us to visit the Burrow soon, but he didn't bring it up.

Less than a fortnight after we all said goodbye at King's Cross, my first owl of the summer arrived, cheering me up considerably. There was at least one more trip to the Burrow in stall for me.

To be continued...