Another Ruddy Ball

Musings

Tensions were running high at Hogwarts. In ten days, it would be Valentine's Day, a bleak prospect at first with the war against Voldemort. But the teachers at Hogwarts had consented to hold a dance, to give the students a night of cheer in the continued terrors of the war. Unfortunately for Ron, this didn't make him feel better.

Ever since it had been announced at the start of the spring term, he'd been studiously avoiding every girl who came near him-except for one. He had no way of avoiding Hermione, to his utter displeasure. What with prefects' duties, classes, and the usual hanging around with Harry, he was hard-pressed not to spend time with Hermione, who seemed to have been caught up in the pre-ball fever with every other girl. He often grumbled to Harry about the injustice of always being paired with her (and of having to endure her talk of the ball and how 'lovely' it was going to be), but he noticed that Harry seemed to be turning a deaf ear to his plight more often than not lately. So, with his two best friends frustrating him to no end, Ron took more and more refuge in the weekly quidditch practices, often sneaking out at night to practice so as to get his mind off things he couldn't quite figure out.

Not that it mattered overly much, he reflected. Just mere minutes away was the announcement of which prefects would be paired up on security duty for the Hogsmeade trip the next day. He had hoped and prayed fervently over the last week to be paired with Ginny, who had been made a prefect this year. At least then I might have some fun, he thought, tossing a glance Hermione's way. He received a shock when he looked up, for when he did so, Hermione immediately turned her eyes away from him to the staff table.

He sat, eyes transfixed on Hermione's back as she chatted animatedly with Ginny, then suddenly realized that he was staring. He broke his stare, face heating up as he felt a peculiar fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. What was that about?! A voice screamed in his head as he shook himself. He looked around, hoping that no one else had caught his little... lapse of sanity. Ron realized immediately that he needn't have bothered, because no one else was paying the slightest attention to him.

This didn't cheer Ron up in the slightest; in fact, it only made him more irritable. He stabbed at his plate, unaware of people around him giving him looks, and absentmindedly scratched his arm. He had been cured of the scars he got from his trip to the Ministry of Magic last year, but the places where they had been sometimes flared with pain when he was particularly emotional. Must be a side effect of the fact that it was thought scarring, he thought to himself, still uneasy about what had happened. Just then, there was the sound of Professor McGonagall tapping her goblet to get everyone's attention.

Ron sat up straighter, crossing his fingers and glancing back to Hermione. She was, again, watching him with a strange look upon her face. He realized that she had been watching him this way earlier, he'd just not quite caught it because she turned away too quickly. She didn't seem to notice yet that he was looking at her until he grinned faintly. Then her eyes widened and she abruptly turned away again. Weird, she's been acting like this the whole year, he mused. Wonder what's going on. He felt the fluttering sensation again and shook his head, trying to focus on what Professor McGonagall was saying.

"...ley and Ernie MacMillan will be patrolling the Honeydukes area, and Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger will be..."

Ron sat there, face heating up again. He tried to think of something to say to McGonagall to get her to switch him, but he knew she wouldn't. He was miserable, and yet... he hesitated on this thought... I'm glad I'm going to be with Hermione all day. He shook himself out of his strange mood and pushed his plate away, hardly touched. Then he slipped out of the Great Hall and slowly headed for the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, thinking. He didn't hear the footsteps behind him until significantly smaller hands reached out and spun him around.

There was Hermione, breathing hard from running after him, face flushed and eyes sparkling with something he couldn't quite identify. He looked at her for a long moment, unsure of what to say and had just opened his mouth to speak when she cut him off.

"Ronald Weasley, next time you slip out of there without eating, you better go right up to the hospital wing immediately! You never miss lunch, and I don't want my best friend getting sick!" she said fiercely. "By the way, did you even catch where we are patrolling?"

Ron opened and closed his mouth, then frowned and shook his head. "Why, where are we patrolling?"

"The post office," she told him. She looked down and muttered, almost as if in thought, "Good thing too. I still have to send that letter to Viktor."

At the mention of Viktor Krum, Ron's eyes darkened and he turned and stomped up the stairs. He didn't stop when he heard her calling after him, just ran to his room. Throwing himself down on his bed, he twisted around to mutter "Colloportus!" at the door, just in case she decided to follow him. Sure enough, a minute later he heard footsteps pounding up the stairs and then Hermione was banging on the door and yelling at him to let her in. Ron ignored her, feeling slightly guilty.

Finally, she stopped banging on the door and it was quiet for a few moments. Then.. "Alohamora!" The door flew open and Hermione stood there triumphantly, wand raised. Ron started up and glared at her, flinging himself back down as she stalked toward his bed. She leant over as he tried to bury himself into the covers.

"Thought I wouldn't remember that little trick from our jaunt at the Ministry of Magic, did you? Sorry Ron," she said almost scornfully. She pulled the covers away from his head and sat down beside him, saying, "It's no use trying to suffocate yourself, just talk to me. What is wrong with you this year?"

"Don't you mean, what's wrong with you?" he muttered acidly, a little ticked off that she would scold him for something he didn't want to talk about. He rolled over and stared up at her, uncomfortably aware of how close she was to him. "You're the one who still ruddy rags on me about my homework. Or who gets all mad when they lose a chess game to me, not that you've deigned to stop studying, or writing to that bloody duck-footed git, long enough this year to bother." With that, he turned away from her and glared at the wall, determined not to say anything more.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Hermione whispered, "Is that it? Ron, you know I just want you to do well in school, and I have too deigned to play chess with you on occasion. And, for your information, I never liked Viktor that way, not that you deserve to know with the way you're behaving. Besides... " at this, she paused and sniffled, voice suddenly heavy, "I didn't think you even wanted me around very much, what with your quidditch and everything."

He sat up and looked at her, surprised at her tone. She sounded almost... hurt. She looked him in the eye for a moment then looked down and got up. Ron watched her numbly as she left the room and closed the door quietly. Shaking his head, he thought, Blimey, she really is going nutters.

He heard the door open again a minute later and immediately turned to tell Hermione off, but to his surprise, Harry was standing in the doorway. Not only that, he was giving Ron a distinctly disapproving look. He walked over to sit on his bed, pointedly looking away from Ron.

"What's wrong with you, mate?" Ron asked, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

"Why is it always you who makes Hermione cry, Ron?" Harry said angrily.

"She was crying?" Ron replied uneasily. He squirmed and looked away when Harry shot him a glare.

"Yes, she was crying. Would you like to tell me what's going on before I hex you?"

"No, Harry, I don't. Especially not if your going to abuse what we learned in the D.A. last year," Ron retorted, sounding remarkably like Percy. He immediately flopped back down on his bed and fumed up at the ceiling, deliberately ignoring Harry until he left.

"Why in bloody hell is everyone going off at me today? I didn't bloody do anything!" Ron muttered to himself. He rolled over onto his stomach and stared down at his hands. But then... maybe I did. I was rude to Hermione, he thought uneasily. And I suppose Harry has a right to be concerned about her, she is one of his best friends, after all. But... why are they doing this to a poor bloke? Oh, why am I thinking about this? It doesn't bloody... Nothing's going... ARRGH! Why can't she just bloody leave me alone!

He got up and grabbed his broom, tearing down the stairs on his way to the quidditch pitch. Maybe some flying or practising will take my mind off of this rubbish, he thought angrily, and mounted his broom, taking off into the cool afternoon air. He didn't come back down until later that night.

~*~*~*~

Ron walked into the castle and headed towards the Great Hall for supper, but immediately veered off towards the kitchen instead. He didn't feel like facing anyone right now. He chatted with the house elves for a few minutes while waiting for his food. Dobby seemed particularly insistent that Ron try to get Harry to go down and visit him. Ron promised to try and then left with his heaping plate of food. He managed to get up to the Tower without being seen, but when he stepped into the Gryffindor common room, he knew he would be in for another row.

Ron just had time to wish for the power to become invisible when Hermione bounded up from the couch, hair flying behind her and eyes blazing furiously.

"Ronald Weasley, I'm not letting you go upstairs until you tell me why you've been so short with me this year!" she said loudly, wand coming up to point at him. He swallowed nervously; Hermione in a fury was a force to be reckoned with, especially if she had her wand out like it was now.

"Now, Hermione, just calm down.." he said, trying to think of a way to run.

"I will not calm down! I am sick of this Ron!" She gestured to the table behind her and said, "Put the food and the broomstick down now."

Ron hastily obliged, ears turning red with the embarrassment. How this wisp of a girl could reduce him to terrified obedience was beyond him. She reminded him of his mother in that instant.

"Sit."

He sat. He didn't know how he would face the terrifying reality that was being forced upon him, how he would cope with finally coming to terms with all the thoughts and feelings he had pushed aside for so long... Unable to shake this train of thought, Ron began to shake.

"Hermione, can we not do this now?" He was appalled at how scared and young he sounded.

"No Ron, this is going to be done tonight, so help me, even if I have to hex the truth out of you!"

"Hermione.."

"What is it?" she asked angrily.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Her eyes widened and he got up and ran for the bathroom. Just in time, too, because the next thing he knew, he was throwing up everything he'd eaten that day. When he was finished, he sat there, head down, ashamed of having her witness this indignity.

"Ron.." Her soft voice floated over him from the doorway, a striking contrast from her anger of before. She sounded truly concerned.

"Go away, Hermione," he muttered miserably, wiping his mouth and trying to stand on weak knees. He failed and leaned against the bathroom stall, head hanging.

"Oh, Ron. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" She rushed over and helped him up, guiding him out into the common room. "Do you need to go to Madame Pomfrey?"

"No, I just want to go to bed," he said quietly.

"Alright." She picked up his broomstick from the table and then helped him upstairs to his room. She helped him pull off his dirty robes and tucked him into bed.

"I'm sorry if I caused this Ron. You just made me so-"

"Hush Hermione," Ron said weakly. "I know, I was a prat to you today. I'm sorry. Let's just... forget it, okay?"

Hermione sighed and nodded, reaching out to brush his hair back from his face. "Alright. Forgotten." She hesitated and gave him a small smile. "Get some sleep. Wouldn't want you getting sick on our patrol."

G'night, Hermione," Ron mumbled, sleep already taking hold of him.

"Night Ron." In his darkening mind, he thought he felt a soft pressure touch his cheek just before he dropped off the edge of consciousness.