Out of the Cupboard

Out of the Cupboard: Part II

 

            Possibly the only reason that Ron had not told his brothers, sister and best friend about his relationship with Hermione for so long was that he rather enjoyed sneaking around. It was terribly sexy being so secretive, which added much fuel for his already burning desire for Hermione.

            Being a mischievous lad himself, Ron was always keen to have a bit of adventure now and then. And being the best friend of the famous Harry Potter gave him his fair share of adventure no doubt. But being that this romance of sorts was new territory to explore, and that he was exploring it with her, just made it that much more fun.

            Ron checked his watch again. It was well past six-thirty, and he couldn’t imagine what was holding Hermione up, and he wondered (chuckling to himself as he did so) if perhaps she didn’t have to stop a student from wandering about the castle themself, hypercritically keeping to her duties as a Prefect. As for his best friend, Snape had kept Harry after potions to help clean off the floors with Neville, after he had burned through another cauldron. Then he had Quidditch practice right after supper, so he wouldn’t be anywhere near the greenhouses to disrupt them, much less bother coming to look for them.

            Waiting all day just to be alone with her, Ron could hardly contain his own excitement at the thought of being with her again. Recalling the scent of her hair, the way apples of her cheeks became rosy when she laughed; even the way she crinkled her nose, and feign disgust when he would say something wicked–all these things he took great pleasure in, and his heart ached just a little when she wasn’t there with him.

            Then he suddenly remembered what George had said just a few days before in the library, giving his stomach a jolt.

            “Wonniekins in wuve.”

            Pacing back and forth now, he checked his watch again. His brother was right. It wasn’t just two months of secret rendevous and passionate kisses, giving into lust and need with one of his best friends. It was five years of ranting and bickering, teasing and taunting. Five years of uncomfortable silences and intimate moments, friendly adoration and loving devotion. It was then that he came to a sudden realization, that struck him like a Bludger to the head. He was in love with Hermione Granger.

            The only problem was, he didn’t know if she felt the same. She hadn’t said it. She hadn’t even made any mention of her feelings for him at all in the last two months. Not once. And as this occurred to him, it bothered him a great deal. Was this merely a physical relationship to her?

            Finally, a small figure strode across the lawn towards him. Her mane of thick hair bouncing off her shoulders as she nearly ran into his arms, kissing him firmly on the lips.

            Ron couldn’t help but smile at her warm greeting. “Good evening Miss Granger. Funny seeing you out here near the greenhouses so late in the evening. Tell me, do you have special permission to be out of the castle this time of night?”

            “I’m sorry, Ron. But I got held up,” Hermione said, avoiding his eyes.

            Picking up on her body language right away, as she shifted uncomfortably in his arms, Ron asked, “Is there something wrong?”

            “No, of course not,” she answered, looking suddenly flustered.

            “There is something wrong. Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

            “I–I can’t. I mean, it’s very odd. I’m not even sure that it happened,” Hermione said deliberating in her own mind. “Besides, I’m not entirely sure that you would like it, much less believe it.”

            Ron’s stomach did a somersault as he wondered what exactly he wouldn’t like. “Go ahead. I can take it,” he urged, putting up his most supportive smile.

            Hermione sighed. “All right. But like I said, you won’t believe it.” Twisting a strand of hair between her fingers in nervousness, she began. “It started after you left at supper, and I told Harry I was going to the library . . .”

 

            “She looked at me as though I were mad,” Harry said to George, Fred and Ginny before they entered the broomshed outside the Quidditch pitch. “I don’t think she believed me.”

            “What did you tell her?” Fred asked impatiently, trying to conceal a hearty laugh. “Come on, Potter. We need details. No holding back.”

            Harry looked hesitant. And George could tell that he was extremely uncomfortable talking about pretending to hit on one of his best friends in front of the girl he truly liked.

            “Well,” Harry began, “I suppose I started out by telling her she looked good today . . .”

 

            “He told you what?” Ron half-shouted. “He said you looked sexy?”

            Hermione clamped her hands over his mouth in order to hush him but, he only pushed them away. “Why the hell would he say something like that?”

            “I don’t know,” Hermione said, scratching her head in bewilderment. “It’s so unusual for Harry. I don’t know what came over him. It’s just so unlike him. I don’t understand it at all.”

 

            “And then what?” Ginny begged him in excitement. “What did she say?”

            Turning quite red in the face, Harry said, “Well, nothing at first. Like I said, she was sort of taken aback by the compliment. Then I told her that I noticed she had grown up nicely the past year . . .”

 

            “Well I told Harry he was just being silly,” Hermione continued. “But then he kept on flirting with me. Flirting! Telling me how great I looked this summer when he came to visit at the Burrow.

            “Harry wouldn’t say that,” Ron tried to justify, running long fingers through his hair in confusion. “He likes Ginny! He has never seen you as more than a friend.”

            “I swear to you, Ron. He was coming on to me,” Hermione said, a bitter tone in her voice. “I wouldn’t lie about this. He said how strange it was to know someone for so long, and think of them a certain way, but then suddenly see them in a whole new way . . .”

 

            George tried to control his laughter. “You winked at her?”

            Blushing furiously, Harry bowed his head. “Yeah. And then I walked off.” Ginny patted Harry’s back, trying to comfort him.

            “Can you imagine what she could have been thinking when you did that?” Fred replied in a similar chuckle. “You’re right, she does probably think you’re mad!”

            “I wonder what she’ll tell Ron?” Harry said worriedly. “He’ll be awful upset.”

 

            Though he had momentarily gone off on a mental tangent, thinking of how he had felt the same way that summer, when suddenly something close to rage washed over Ron. “Harry wouldn’t say that!” he bellowed, clenching his fists in anger. “He can’t like Hermione,” he thought. “Not like that! She’s my girl!”

            “I’m going to kill him.”

            “What? Now Ron, be reasonable!” Hermione said, holding up her hands in protest.

            “Honestly Hermione! What do you want me to do? Just stand there as he makes passes at you?” Ron said through gritted teeth. “All this time, pretending to chase after my sister, and then he goes and–“

            Ron stepped back from Hermione for a moment, who herself has a desperate look on her face, prepared to stop him at whatever harm he might want to inflict on their best friend. He turned back to her, feeling as though he could have hexed himself for being so bloody stupid.

            “Bugger!” he said. “He knows.”

            “What?”

            “Hermione, he knows about us.”

            “That’s impossible! How could he–“

            Ron cut her off, talking fast. “I know I haven’t told you, and I’m sorry about that, but he’s been questioning it for a while now. Somehow he’s figured it out and now he’s playing with us!”

            Looking completely shocked by his words, Hermione began tapping her fingers on her teeth (a new habit she picked up after shrinking them last year), murmuring to herself as she thought out loud. “But how could he know for sure? Besides, who would put him up to such a thing? He wouldn’t have done this all on his own.”

            Looking at her as though she were mad herself, Ron said without hesitation, “Fred.”

            “Fred?” Hermione paused to think. “Oh . . .George! How could he?!”

            Lowering his eyes in disgust, Ron began pacing irritably again. “I knew he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I bet Ginny is in on it too. They are trying to get us to come out about our relationship!”

            “That’s not fair!”

            Ron continued pacing back and forth, while Hermione stood there completely flabbergasted. “We have to beat them at their own game, Hermione. They don’t know that we know, you know.”

            Hermione’s eyes became wide and bright with understanding. “Yes! They think they are so clever messing with us.”

            “We will beat them at their own game,” Ron said, grinning from ear to ear. “We will just have to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

            “What do you have in mind?” Hermione asked, walking back over to him a seductive look in her eyes.

            Ron smiled back at her, returning to the original reason of their meeting. “All in good time, dear,” he said, brushing the hair away from her face, and running a finger along her jaw line. “But for now, I believe we have some business of our own to take care of.”

 

            *          *          *

 

            The next morning in the dormitory was rather tense as Ron and Harry hardly said a word to each other. Harry was obviously apprehensive, not quite looking Ron in the eye. Ron could only assume that Harry had felt slightly guilty for hitting on his girl, (“He’d better feel guilty!” Ron thought) and was waiting for some sort of backlash knowing fully well that Ron probably already knew about it. But Ron said nothing as they dressed for breakfast, pretending that he knew nothing of Harry’s advances on Hermione.

            As they left the common room for breakfast in the Great Hall, they found Hermione waiting outside the Charms classroom. She was standing up against the wall, head in a book of course, with one of her knees hiked up against the wall, exposing a good portion of her thigh. Her hair was pulled back as well, revealing the milky white skin of her long neck. Ron thought she looked absolutely ravishing, and had to hold back running over to kiss her ferociously himself.

            “Good morning, Hermione,” Ron said cheerfully.

            “Morning,” she answered back, nose still in her book.

            “How come you’re out here?” Harry asked.

            She paused a moment, looking up from her book and looked the boys over. “Actually, I need to talk to you for a moment, Harry,” nodding to Ron. “Sorry Ron, but it’s rather private.”

            Putting on his most hurt face, Ron said, “Well! If you two don’t mind, I will be going to breakfast alone then. I’m rather hungry.”

            “So am I,” Hermione mumbled softly, staring directly at Harry as Ron walked by.

            Pretending to storm off , Ron couldn’t help but grin to himself as he dashed around the next corner to listen in on the conversation.

            “So,” Ron heard Harry begin, lowering his voice slightly to sound more charming. “What’s up Hermione?”

            He heard Hermione utter a small, but low laugh. “That’s up to you, Potter,” she said in her most sultry voice.

            Ron couldn’t help himself. He peeked around the corner to watch what was happening.

            “You see, I was up all night, considering what you had said to me,” Hermione continued. “I must admit, that I was rather put off at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it bothered me. You’re right, Harry, it does seem such a waste to have all this pent up physical energy, and no way to release it. After all, you have Quiddtich, and what do I have–just books.” She looked away slightly, sighing deeply.

            “ Damn! I bet she would have made a bloody fine Muggle actress if given the chance,” Ron thought wildly.

            Hermione looked up back at Harry and said with come-hither look, “Then again, some of the books I read are very informational . . .”

            Harry looked almost taken aback himself by her counter-advances at first. But Ron watched as took a nibble at the bait, walking closer to her (too close, in Ron’s opinion) and leaning against the wall with his hand, hovering only inches above her. “That’s an excellent way to look at it, Hermione,” he said, smirking.

            Not breaking eye contact, Hermione continued. “And since you don’t have Quiddtich practice tonight, I was wondering if you might like to meet me somewhere–say, the Prefect’s bathroom–and, well, get better acquainted.”

            Ron noticed his best friend’s grin grow wider as he said thoughtfully, loosening his tie, “Well, I am in need of a good bath, you know.”

            “And I would be delighted to scrub your back for you,” Hermione said, playfully running her finger down the sleeve of his robe that wasn’t holding himself against the wall.

            Harry cocked an eyebrow, “Will swimtrunks be required?”

            “I’ll leave that up to you. Though I doubt you’ll need it long regardless,” she said low and seductively, arching her back in order close the distance between them even more.

            “She is good,” Ron thought again. “Very convincing indeed.”

            Almost too convincing.

            “You’re right, Hermione,” Harry said. “They can be such a hindrance.”

            “Eight o’clock?”

            “I’ll be there with bells on.”

            “Good,” she said, “But you won’t need bells tonight.” With her free hand, still on his robes, Ron watched Hermione squeeze Harry’s bum slightly before she pushed herself away from the wall, and walked away from him, leaving a look of utter shock on Harry’s face.

            And before Harry could come to his senses, Ron was well on his way to the Great Hall to help himself to some breakfast and wait for them both to arrive.

 

            *          *          *

 

            Sitting at the table for lunch, George sat down between Ginny and Fred, who were already discussing the next step in their plan.

            “And whenever they need to go to the ‘library’, we’ll ask them to look up something ridiculously difficult to remember off hand, such as the properties of some exotic plant or something to that effect,” Fred said to his siblings with glee.

            “That’s perfect!” Ginny exclaimed before she bit into her sandwich.

            Just then, Harry came over and slumped down on the table across from them.

            Mouth still full, Ginny asked from the corner of her mouth, “What happened?”

            “Yeah,” George said, considering Harry’s grim state as well, “You were hardly here for long at breakfast for long either.”

            “Better question is, where are Ron and Hermione?” Fred asked, grinning.

            “They’re coming,” Harry nodded at the pair just now entering the Great Hall themselves. “I can’t explain now, but you will probably all understand in a few moments anyway,” he said wearily.

            “Afternoon all,” Ron said brightly, as he and Hermione sat on either sides of Harry.

            After a couple of sandwiches, Harry spoke up again. “Say, does anyone know what Hagrid has for us in Care of Magical Creatures today?”

            “Crups, I think. I heard them barking yesterday when we left Herbology,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

            “Oh that’s all I need today,” Ron complained. “Being licked to death by a little dog.”

            “That might prove to be an interesting endeavor,” Hermione said quietly, but just loud enough for everyone to hear her–and staring at Harry as if there was no one else there at the table.

            George was thankful he had nothing in his mouth, as he would have surely choked at what he had heard and seen. However, Ginny’s eyes became wide, and George had to discretely tap her on the leg beneath the table as a reminder to release the tight grip she had on her napkin, as she twisted it fiercely beneath the table. And Fred said nothing, continuing to eat his lunch as if nothing had ever been said.

            But George couldn’t help but notice the slight smirk that crept onto his little brother’s face as he also looked down at the table finishing his own sandwich, looking highly entertained.

 

            *          *          *

 

            “Can you believe what she said? In front of everyone!” Ginny said, throwing a rock into the lake, as she, the twins and Harry sat on the bank discussing that days activities.

            “She’s been going on like that all day,” Harry explained delicately, trying not to upset Ginny even further. “Since this morning, every chance she gets, she says something suggestive.”            Harry told them about the proposition Hermione had made earlier that morning, and though she said nothing, George noticed, like his little brother, Ginny was probably experiencing a fit of jealousy over her best friend hitting on her boyfriend.

            “Maybe, we just call it off, and tell them that we know. This is getting out of hand,” Harry suggested.

            Fred couldn’t help but laugh. “Honestly, I can’t believe that you are all that thick!”

            The three of them looked at him in bewilderment.

            “They’re on to us!”

            Looking back and forth at each other, the confusion on their faces slowly reached realization of their stupidity.

            “Bugger!” Ginny screamed.

            “They can’t do that, can they? Only we can do that?” Harry said.

            “Well,” George began, trying to reason, “Harry did say yesterday that she did seem taken aback by his advances. She didn’t seem to believe you, remember? And now she turns around and throws it back at you twofold. Definitely dodgy if you ask me. They are trying to mess with us right back”

            “And I fell for it! I can’t believe this!” Ginny fell back onto the grass, her hands covering her face in embarrassment. “I’m such a git!”

            “Right!” Fred said with a sudden gleam in his eyes. “So, they don’t know, that we know that they know, right?”

            Everyone nodded regardless if they understood the complicated comment or not.

            “So all we have to do is call their bluff, right?”

            Ginny sat up again. “Harry you have to meet her tonight!”

            “What?” Harry said in confusion. “I don’t think I can–or should for that matter.”

            “Sure you can,” Ginny said. “I trust you.”

            “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

            Fred slapped Harry on the back. “That’s the brilliant part, Harry. You won’t have to. Hermione will crack long before you do.”

            Harry just stared at the ground, picking single strands of grass, contemplating the situation. “I just don’t know.”

            “Look at it this way, Harry,” George said, trying to convince him. “If we do this, then everyone will know, and it won’t be a secret anymore. Ginny and Fred are right, Hermione might be a terrific little actress, but she will buckle under the pressure–I’m sure of it.”

            Harry smiled a bit at the thought. “Okay, I’ll do it–if only just so I could tell them to get a room whenever I wanted.”

            “There’s just one other thing,” Fred said, laughing. “George and I still have our bet. We still need proof when this all finally comes down.”

            George agreed. “Fred’s right, we know how to get in well enough, but once we’re in, there aren’t many places to hide.”

            Looking at them with curious amusement, Ginny asked, “How do you two know what the Prefect’s bathroom looks like?”

            “Ginny please,” Fred said, raising an eyebrow. “As if you had to ask.”

            Harry stood up from the grass, looking quite pleased with himself for having thought of something useful. “I know a way you can all see what happens, without anyone knowing . . .”