Beware of the Slash

Chapter 6-Retaliation to Make Up For Seven Years

In the grand scheme of things, Harry being gay was a great thing. Hermione would forever be angry with him, right?

Ron sighed and let his head fall to his pillow. Harry had told him he was gay. It was no surprise, Ron had thought when Harry told him. He'd always been quite feminine in his ways. Ron didn't doubt that eventually he'd find some other fellow to be gay with... He didn't care that he was gay; it wasn't a revelation that would put their friendship to rest. In fact, it would make it stronger. Unless Harry got too gay for him.

Ron hadn't seen Hermione in quite a while. Harry told him she was brooding and wallowing in the fact that she was in love with a homosexual. She'd taken to locking herself in her dormitory and simply fending off her roommates, who had been sleeping in the common room in full school attire. Ron had heard Lavender and Parvati complaining and plotting to run Hermione out of the room. Harry had urged Ron to go for it, and tell Hermione he had feelings for her.

"Hey Ron," someone from the doorway said. Ron turned sharply, partly from shock, and found Harry leaning against it.

"Hey...what's wrong?"

Harry walked over to Ron's bed and sat on the edge, narrowly missing Ron's large feet. He sighed.

"Hermione hates me," he said.

Ron scoffed. "Well I could've told you that, mate."

"Stop being insensitive! My homosexuality is tearing our friendship apart!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. It took a lot to contain Ron's laughter. When he succeeded, he mumbled something he figured was incoherent.

"Hermione falling in love with you tore the friendship."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, and Ron cursed himself for bothering to mumble.

"Nothing-"

"No, I think I heard you quite clearly. How does Hermione's falling in love have to do with this?"

Ignoring him completely, Ron turned in his bed and waved Harry off miserably. "Never mind."

Harry grabbed Ron's wrist in the midst of him trying to ward him away and Ron looked at him. Never had Harry exuberated so much strength; except, perhaps, fighting and defeating Voldemort. His face was a mixture of anger and sadness, leaning more toward wrathful vengeance. Couldn't he figure it out himself?

"I get it. This has to do with your little crush. I told you to go for it, Ron! If you like her so much, why do you hide under your stupidity?" he asked, and Ron had the feeling that, for the first time, Harry was actually expressing something that might have been ruling his mind.

So that was it? Harry thought Ron was hiding behind a façade of stupidity and clumsiness?

He sat up.

"What?" he asked, but instead of succeeding with a tone of hate, his voice was small, almost unheard by Harry.

"You heard me! You hide under that mask of stupidity and act lke nobody notices! I've seen you secretly studying at night, writing out loads and loads of notes, catching up on reading...then you have Hermione end up doing the work for you, complaining it's hard and you weren't paying attention. Why, Ron? You could be so much better if you just acted like yourself? You parade around in your brother's shadows and act like you can't do anything for them or to meet their goals."

"Wait," Ron said, "I thought you wanted to know why I thought Hermione's falling in love was tearing our friendship apart."

Harry sighed and gritted his teeth before standing and pointing a finger at Ron. "I already know why! You let your crush for Hermione get the best of you. You never told her and she went and fell in love with me! You hid behind that mask and you just watched everything. You could have prevented this...maybe it's you that's completely demolishing this friendship!" Harry looked perplexed. He looked as if he had relieved a bit of stress that had been hanging over him for, say...seven years.

Ron wasn't confused, but he pretended to be, knowing he was proving Harry right.

"Hang on, the "mask of stupidity?" What rubbish are you on about?"

Harry thrust his hands up in the air for a second time. "There you go, proving me positive! Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!"

Harry was way off his rocker, but Ron was aware of where he was coming from.

"You're blaming this on me now?! A moment ago you were sure it was Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, letting go off his nonplussed emotion and replacing it with one of full understanding.

"A moment ago, Ron. A freakin' moment ago!" Harry shouted, walking out of the room.

"Well," Ron thought, sitting back on his bed, "that was pretty masculine of him."

*

"My, my Mr. Weasley, your grades are actually...improving." Professor Snape's voice wavered through the classroom and Ron felt it tickle his spine unpleasantly. He didn't want to admit that he had taken Harry's advice of attempting to prove himself, but obviously he had, or else Snape wouldn't have been...complimenting him.

And also on the plus side, Hermione had finally started going to classes again. She looked like she was on the warpath and shot daggers at Harry when he looked at her. Her hair was a lot messier than usual, her robes looked the equivalent to Ron's, and...

"Why Miss. Granger, your grades seem to be...falling," Snape went on. Hermione had had her head resting on the desk and only looked up partially at Snape.

"How nice of you to notice, Professor," she said darkly, resting her head once again. Ron couldn't help but notice how drastically she'd changed. And neither could the Slytherins.

"Was that Granger being...sarcastic?" Pansy Parkinson retorted, chuckling with the girls around her. Hermione looked up at them. Ron gulped. Whatever she was about to say could land Gryffindor in last place for the House Cup. Not that he cared much anymore, but it could also land her detention. Hours less of Ron snuggling up to her...if you were allowed to snuggle around Hermione.

"Why, Parkinson, I could give you a few lessons if you'd like. Of course, being sarcastic has to require some sort of tone, and through all that barking, mutt, I don't think we can find yours."

Pansy stopped laughing immediately and stood up. Rather than deducting house points, Snape sat back in his seat amused. Slytherin versus Gryffindor, and not Harry and Draco either.

"What did you call me?" she asked threateningly, walking toward Hermione but stopping short at Ron, who knew he had to do something.

"A mutt, Parkinson. Get an ear fix...and a dictionary."

Defending Hermione wasn't what Ron had in mind.

Snape suddenly jerked forward.

"Mr. Weasley! Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting perhaps the most appetizing and interesting argument this classroom and Potions Master has yet to see. Speaking of which, ten more points from Gryffindor for Miss. Granger's apathy and unappealing sarcasm. Another five for that sarcasm being directed at me. Please take a seat Miss Parkinson."

Pansy only glared at Hermione, who wasn't looking at her.

Instead she was looking at Ron, her expression unreadable. Ron was looking back, unable to take his eyes off hers. Was Hermione actually realizing what reality was?

Snape's voice drifted off as Ron stared at his blank parchment, quill in hand. He was supposed to be writing down directions on concocting Veritaserum. Harry had silently been staring between the two, because Ron had caught his voice.

At the end of the lesson, when Snape dismissed them, Draco Malfoy's voice trampled over the gang as they walked down the corridor back to Gryffindor tower, feeling awkward to be together for the first time.

"That was some cat fight," he was telling Pansy, who was still looking disturbed by Hermione's sudden humor. "Who knew the Mudblood had it in her. Should've hexed her..."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, Ron stopping next to her, but Harry continuing to walk.

"Well, this is a sweet twosome," Draco cooed. Ron stepped up to him, filth lingering about his face.

Hermione put a hand out. "I can handle this."

Draco was unfazed. "Going to slap me again?" he asked. Ron looked at Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle who were all looking the same at Hermione. "Go ahead, Mudblood. Lay one on me. I could talk about that bastard Hagrid...that set you off the last time. I could talk about the Golden Boy...news travels fast, the faggot won't even know it. He walked off to snog Seamus, the Scottish gay. What are you waiting for?" Draco asked, because so far, Hermione had done nothing but glare. He looked at Ron, who was thinking and rethinking Smack him already, Hermione. "The idiot next to you has got a suicidal sister...I could taunt you with that...but wait, you don't care, Granger...you're too busy wallowing in your Mudblood-"

His commentary was cut short by Ron's fist, flying out of nowhere into Draco's face. He stumbled backward, and Ron flexed his fist in anger. Draco was speaking from the crack of his arse. He didn't know anything about Ginny. She would never think about...suicide. Hermione looked at Ron.

"Ron..." she said weakly.

"What?" he snapped, because he was too busy planning his next attack on Draco to listen this time. He was talking about his sister, than bringing Hermione in for no apparent reason. This was a two-in-one deal. Ron lifted his fist to hit him again.

Hermione grabbed it. "Ron!" she yelled.

"WHAT?!" he yelled back. "He's talking about you too, you know!"

"I know that, Ron! I'm not an idiot! But bloody bollocks Ron-" she was cursing now too- "You know he's talking complete rubbish! Don't waste your time!"

Ron seethed with anger as Draco steadied himself. Hermione was steadily getting back to her old self. "But a minute ago you were gonna go at him!"

"I was not! Well, verbally..."

"So what's a little physicality?" Ron asked, and he turned to look at Hermione. He was watching Draco from the corner of his eye but did not see the fist that went flying at him.

That was it; Ron had had enough of Malfoy for seven years.