Nine Months in F Minor

Two months later.

    “Ron,” said Harry, looking at his friend across their dorm.

    “Mmmm?” said Ron through his wand, which he was holding with his teeth as he fixed his hair. This was admittedly something he rarely did, but today was - as Hermione was constantly reminding him - their 2 year anniversary, not to mention a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry knew Ron had some plans, but he didn’t have a clue what they were.

    “Your hair is sticking up in the back.”

    Ron’s mouth fell open and the wand clattered to the floor. “Are you serious? Where?”

    “Everywhere.” He laughed. “Here’s a mirror; you’re gonna need it.”

    Ron picked his wand back up and took the mirror Harry was holding out. He muttered under his breath for a moment before pointing his wand at his hair.

    It turned purple. True, it did go flat, but there was still the pointedly evident purple color.

    “Damn it.”

    Harry burst out laughing. “What spell did you use?”

    “I dunno. I just poked it at my head.”

    Ten minutes later, a red-haired Ron and a still doubled-up-with-laughter Harry tumbled down the boy’s staircase to wait for Hermione (and Ginny, but Harry didn’t mention that).

    “Oh look, there they - I mean - she is, Ron.” said Harry, pulling Ron towards the foot of the girls’ staircase.

    Hermione swept down first, clad - strangely for her - all in black, from her robes to her hose and heels.

    Harry glanced at Ron to see his reaction, but Ron didn’t look at all perturbed by her strange clothing, so Harry quickly turned his gaze to Ginny, who followed Hermione.

    She too was dressed oddly. Her robes, which did admittedly look new, seemed several sizes too big, and hung off of her in gentle folds. She had also donned a Weasley sweater - emerald green - but Harry could see that the letter stitched across hers was an “R”, not a “G”.

    Ron didn’t appear to notice. He took Hermione’s hand as she reached the foot of the steps and she gave him a faint smile. Then, apparently just remembering, she said, “Oh, happy anniversary, baby!”

    Ron grinned. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he said, and then he kissed her.

    She pulled away and Ron’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment. “Let’s go - I’m starving,” was her only explanation.

    After breakfast, Ron and Hermione (still all in black) headed off for Hogsmeade. Ginny and Harry grinned - a whole day to themselves.

    But after a few hours, the novelty of an empty castle had worn off, and they sneaked into Hogsmeade late.

    “Want to go for a drink in the Three Broomsticks?” asked Harry.

    Ginny grinned and gave him a long slow kiss. Harry was glad they were still under the Invisibility Cloak - word traveled like wildfire at Hogwarts, and if they were seen, it would only be a matter of time before Ron and Hermione found them out.

    “I’ll take that as a yes?”

    She nodded, and pulling the cloak off them, grabbed his arm and pulled him inside the Three Broomsticks.

    “Look - there’s Ron and Herm,” whispered Harry, nudging Ginny.

    She laughed softly. “Want to find out what they’re saying?” she asked slyly.

    “Ginny! We can’t eavesdrop on them on their anniversary.”

    She rolled her eyes. “Sure we can; he’s my brother.” And with that she whisked over to the booth behind Ron and Hermione’s.

    Harry considered for a moment, but then Ginny licked her lips and winked ever so slightly at him, and he was bounding off to her.

    “Listen,” whispered Ginny, moving closer to Harry, her chest pressed against his own. The very thought made him shiver with pleasure.

    “…I got something for you,” they heard Ron say. His voice was uncharacteristically soft and hesitant.

    Harry waited, expecting a reply from Hermione, but either it was too soft to be heard, or it didn’t come.

    Ron seemed to have lost his composure.

    “Well…r-right…well, h-here it is….”

    There was a rather long moment of silence before Hermione breathed, “What is it?”

    Ron seemed to regain a bit of his poise. Ginny forced Harry against the back of the booth, her breasts and belly warm against him, her lips almost touching his.

    “It’s a blood ring,” said Ron. Harry didn’t have a clue what that was, but Ginny adopted a dreamy smile that made Harry feel sure it was a very special gift.

    Hermione exhaled in her characteristic “this had better be better than it sounds” way. “Blood ring?”

    “Yes…” whispered Ron. “It’s a ring that contains a drop of blood from two people. It changes colors depending on the love the two share. When it turns into a diamond, it’s meant to be an engagement ring.”

    “En-engagement?” she murmured.

    Their voices dropped so low that they couldn’t be heard, then Ron suggested that they perform the blood ritual.

    “Blood ritual?” asked Hermione. Judging by the tone of her voice, the idea was not as romantic as it was meant to be.

    “It’s just a spell, honey,” he said.

    Hermione sighed with quite audible relief. “Alright, then.”

    There was a shuffling noise as Ron shoved their plates, glasses, and silverware to one end of the table, followed by a small clink as he set the ring down in the center of the table.

    At this point, curiosity won Harry over, and he threw the cloak over himself and Ginny, and they snuck around the booth to watch.

    “Our wand tips have to touch for this part,” said Ron, as he and Hermione withdrew their wands and placed the tips together. “And now we both cast the Incendio charm at the same moment.”

    Wands touching, they breathed the words together. A small flame erupted at the place where the wands met. Ron grinned with relief - that had been the dangerous part, lighting a flame between to wooden sticks without burning either one.

    “Right. Now we read this poem together…” He placed a wrinkly page between them.

    As they read, the red flame faded into gold, then into yellow, until, with the last words of the poem, it was clear as glass.

    “Blood love,” whispered Ron to his wand. A small drop of Hermione’s blood settled in the clear flame, and then, as Hermione whispered the same words, a drop Ron’s blood.

    “Pick up the ring…” said Ron shakily, and together they lifted the band between them. “Hold it under…” They held the band underneath the flickering clear flame.

    For a moment it looked as though it would quiver out, but then it stopped flickering and settled onto the band, pure as glass, conforming to a more natural shape.

    With shaking hands, Ron slid the ring onto Hermione’s left ring finger. It turned a beautiful sapphire color, with streaks of amethyst running through it.

    Ron shrugged a bit but Hermione actually let a tear slide down her cheek.

    “How many shades until diamond?”

    “Er…well…” muttered Ron. He had been relying on the ring to turn pure diamond, or at least close, and he really had absolutely no answer.

    “Yes?”

    “Well…there’s really no exact “order”. It’s not like every shade means something…” He eyed Hermione, who looked rather crestfallen. “Maybe one…maybe ten…there’s really no way of knowing for sure.”

    “What if - what if - what if it never turns unto a diamond?” she asked, more tears slipping down her face.

    “It will eventually, sweetie,” he said. “For us.”

    She smiled slightly through her tears.

    “You know…sapphire, especially as light as this…it’s pretty close to white diamond. Although the amethyst may fuck it up a bit.”

    “Pardon?”

    He laughed. “Sorry, baby. I mean, the amethyst may take a while to go away.”

    She started laughing, rocking back and forth so hard she was shaking.

    And then she stopped. She looked at the ring, still sapphire/amethyst, and up at Ron.

    And then she burst into tears.

    Ron looked extremely frightened. In fact, it seemed to take all his courage to venture to her side of the booth, wrap his arms around her, and comfort her.

    Ginny glanced at Harry under the Invisibility Cloak.. He looked quite as petrified as Ron.

    Ginny laughed slightly at how bad boys were with emotional girls. I wonder what he’ll be like when I tell him-

    No. She must not think about that. Not now.

    She felt a gentle tugging sensation on her arm. Looking over, she saw Harry pulling her back over to their booth.

    She nodded.

Once they were situated in their own booth, Harry straightened the cloak over them.

    Ginny - as was a habit of hers - molded almost immediately to his body; in fact, there was hardly an inch between their upper bodies.

    Suddenly Harry was profoundly aware of Ginny. Of the heat of her light skin against his own; of the wisps of bright red hair falling across his face; of every contour of her body-

    “Ginny?” he asked, his voice betraying his curiosity and mild indignation.

    “Mmmm?”

    There was no good way to put this.

    “Have you…er…gained weight?”

    You fucking dumb ass, he thought. Really romantic. You, Mr. Potter, are an idiot wrapped in a moron.

    He distantly felt her warmth leave him.

    Blinking tremulously, he looked at her.

And received a very painful burning slap on the cheek.

    Ginny ran off.

    Wow, thought Harry. I wonder what the Hell’s the matter with her…

    Other than the fact that I just called her fat, of course.