The Lovers Scorned Kiss Curse

Chapter 2______ Timing Is Everything

Hermione had managed to hold herself together quite well the next couple of days, in her opinion, but it wasn't without taking precautions, and tremendous effort on her part. She threw herself into her class work with even more enthusiasm, making sure to study only in library, not the common room, to avoid seeing Lavender slobber all over Ron. She even did a silencing charm around her bed, so she didn't have to listen to Lavender gush about her Won Won. Still, the simple task of staying away from him was wearing on her; she needed to feel him close to her. Hermione's thoughts turned to him so often, in fact, that she didn't know she was even thinking about him till she starting thinking of him again, in a new thought. Then, she had to wonder how long he had truly been bouncing around in her head for; how many thoughts and reveries did she have involving him, until she was pulled back to reality? It was like waking up in the morning and only remembering part of a dream, when really there had been several dreams already forgotten. Even her bones seemed to ache, wanting to be near him: to hear his voice, to see him smile, to feel his warmth, to.....

It was a toss-up between missing him and craving his presence, or seeing him but feeling the sting that came with it. Hermione thought she was holding up well as far as appearances go, but she wasn't sure how long she could last. Harry always checked her over as if expecting the worst, but he rarely said anything to her. But she could tell he was always very aware of her and Ron when they were near each other, and it made her even more self conscious.

It was today's events totally shattered any hope Hermione had that this little problem would go away soon. All she did was laugh in potions class. She couldn't help it, seeing him there, with that silly little handlebar mustache. It was actually quite adorable, she thought to herself as a giggle escaped her; His reaction was anything but. Instantly, she felt her heart tighten and her knees weaken. The tone of his voice, the way he mimicked her so cruelly, and Lavender's joyful laughter in the background, had her eyes swimming with tears before she even reached the door. In the bathroom, she felt as though she couldn't breathe. Just like the tears drowning her eyes, she felt the rest of her drowning as well. It took her forever to get a hold of herself. She didn't want to look distraught in front of anyone and only emerged from the bathroom when she knew no one would be the wiser. Only Harry would recall her running out ahead of everyone.

After that, her heart seemed to break a little more each day. She felt angry and scared, and above all else, hurt. Why did he choose her? Why did he want Lavender? What did she have that I didn't? she wondered to herself on a constant repetition. She understood that it wasn't the same heartache she felt for Ron in the past. It ran much deeper and she had to constantly remind herself what was real and what was just in her head. If she wasn't such a logical person, she might not have been able to hold on so well. Though, it happened more than once, where Harry had to wrestle a sharp object out of her hand, when she got a funny look on her face, witnessing a nauseating moment between Ron and Lavender.

"I wish I was dead," came her bemoaning wail, one recent evening, her hand frantically reaching for her butter knife, as Lavender spoon-fed Ron her ice cream.

"Hermione--I'm sure you did great on the assignment." Harry reacted quickly with the lie, smiling uneasily. "She thinks she did miserable in potions today. She always worries and then gets the highest marks," he announced to the surrounding students at the table, while suddenly needing to butter his biscuit, using Hermione's butter knife. Hermione let go of it without putting up much of a struggle, and instead pouted into her soup. She knew she would never actually be able to go through with killing herself, because she wasn't willing to give up the chance to be near him, even if it made her miserable when he was around; no Ron was worse than death. She explained this to Harry after he brought up the butter knife incident, though that wasn't the last of her outbursts; once he had to pull her away from an open tower window when she threatened to jump out.

It was almost comical, Harry realized, the way she carried on like that, over the most absurd things. He sometimes had a hard time taking her seriously, the ridiculous way she acted; it wasn't like Hermione at all. He would have been more disturbed, except he noticed her impulsive actions were extremely lackadaisical, in that even as she said she was going to kill herself, he knew she was simply being overly-dramatic and had no intention of actually doing anything. He had more trouble trying to come up with ways to cover up her bizarre behavior, like when she took a swing at a fourth year who said Ron wouldn't be able to pull off the next Quidditch match. "Wrackspurts", he told him unconvincingly, waving away imaginary creatures with his hand. "They're all over the grounds this time of year." He then grabbed Hermione firmly by the arm and led her away before she could do anymore damage.

Though she had warned him that she would be irrational, especially in the beginning stages of the curse, he had not counted on the degree, and he eventually enlisted Luna to help watch her when he wasn't around. He knew, Luna being Luna, she wouldn't find his request odd or ask a lot of questions and that was important because there wasn't anything he could say. "Is it a Heliopath?" she asked assumingly, when he loosely explained to her how Hermione was acting oddly. Harry just nodded his head in agreement to make it easier. He had no idea what a Heliopath was, but was glad he had a friend like Luna around.

*** *** ***

Hermione knew, deep down, even at her worst, she was being totally absurd, but she couldn't stop the thoughts from entering her mind. She just did her best to resist them and tried to act normal. She thought that because she had done such extensive research and was prepared for what to expect, she was able to avoid the demise that many victims faced, but it was too early to tell. She was determined to take an offensive approach, knowing what she knew, to stop the curse in its tracks. The idea of moving on from Ron was impossible, Hermione had come to terms with that, and instead devised a plan to get his attention. She was going to make Ron jealous. She would make him notice her, and see what he was missing out on by not ditching Lavender. He belonged to her; she was certain.

This was why she found herself, alone in the girls' dormitory, carefully studying herself over, as she got ready for Slughorn's Christmas party, where she would be attending with Cormac McLaggen. It was the last night before break, two weeks without seeing Ron's face, and her last chance to get his attention. She figured if anyone could rile Ron up, and make him take notice, it would be the boy who almost took his seeker position. She wanted to make a big impression and was pleased with Ron's reaction at dinner, earlier that week, when he first heard the news straight from her lips. He had detached himself from Lavender instantly upon hearing the words spoken. Clearly, he had been listening to her conversation the whole time she realized with hope. The look he shot her was unmistakably one of jealousy she believed, but it could have just been simple outrage. She was determined to get a reaction out of him tonight and was very meticulous about her look. She wanted his eyes to open wide the minute he saw her, too awestruck to even speak, but the longer she waited to come down, the less sure she was of getting this reaction. She stared at her reflection so long that she could hardly recognize her face as her own. She shut her eyes and counted to one hundred, and then looked herself over once more.

She had selected her dress carefully. It was dark crimson with a high sash. The bottom was made of tulle, like a ballet tutu. It went down to her knees and poofed out, in a playful kind of way, and held snug against her chest. The top part, made of satin, let Hermione show off like she never quite had before. Her hair was in a messy updo, random curls hanging down. She looked quite stunning, but also slightly haunting. She was already skinnier, her expression too grave for the occasion. Her face looked like it held some kind of sad ancient grief. She smiled, trying to make it reach her eyes.

As she walked down the stairs to the common room, she took each step carefully, drawing out the moment. Immediately, her eyes locked on Ron's. He was staring at her from behind Lavender's head, while Lavender was busy trying to eat his lips off him. He didn't seem to be aware as Lavender began to kiss along his neck, his focus was elsewhere. She noticed, triumphantly, that his eyes looked both pained and hungry as he watched her enter.

"Hermione! You look amazing," Ginny exclaimed, rushing over to meet her.

"Thank you, Ginny..." She blushed--feeling a bit self conscious-- leaving the last step behind. "...so do you."

Lavender turned to see what everyone was gasping at and frowned when her eyes landed on Hermione.

"Cormac is going to flip when he sees you," Lavender told her enthusiastically, turning to her. Hermione had to force herself not to roll her eyes at how obvious Lavender was being. She noticed how Ron's eyes became darker with the mention of Cormac.

"You think he'll like it?" she asked innocently, playing the part, then dared a glance over at Ron and locked eyes with him.

"He won't be able to keep his hands off of you," said Lavender teasingly, while at the same time tightening her grip on Ron, whose jaw was clenched tightly.

"That's the idea," Hermione replied shamelessly, not removing her eyes from Ron's. His hands were now balled up into tense fists, his face reddening.

"Ron, can I talk to you?" Harry asked interrupting, from the other side of the room. He both needed Ron's help and wanted to put a stop to their behavior before things got out of hand. Ron jumped up at the chance. He slowly slid past Hermione, his irritated glower inches from her face. There was intense electricity pulsing between them, that he still felt even after he met Harry by the door.

"I need to ask you a favor tonight. I was hoping you would watch Malfoy on the map. Make sure he isn't up to anything."

"Sure," he replied quickly, but Harry could tell Ron was in a sulky mood, being that he couldn't go to the party and that Hermione was now going with McLaggen, especially looking like that.

"Thanks. I..." But Ron was hardly paying attention as he continued. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

Had she ever looked so lovely; so tempting? Is she trying to drive me crazy? he wondered. His preoccupation was cut short when he saw Cormac McLaggen come down from the boys' dormitory, with a smug, repugnant look on his face. Cormac looked Hermione over like she was on the menu. Ron tasted blood in his mouth, from biting down on his tongue. He wanted to yell and scream at them to stop; to plead with her not to do this. He was ready to tell Lavender to shove off that instant, if it meant Hermione would be in his arms the next second, but he didn't do any of these things. She would just laugh at him, he thought, and kept quiet. McLaggen put his arm around Hermione and walked her to the portrait hole. They made their way toward Ron and he cringed at the way Hermione deliberately focused all her attention on Cormac.

"Allow me," said Ron, in his most despising tone. He was like a child, fighting for attention, good or bad. He opened the portrait door for them and made a sweeping gesture with his hand, as though waving them out. "Have a good time you two," he told them in a sarcastic tone, adding a mocking salute for good measure. Just before McLaggen disappeared entirely, Ron tugged on the back of his collar, holding him back. "Watch that one with the wand, McLaggen. One false move and I hate to see what she does to you," he leaned in and warned brashly.

"I'm not worried. In my experience they don't put up a fight for long," he whispered low, so that Hermione couldn't hear him; his smile was smarmy and his eyes looked depraved. Harry had to hold Ron back from attacking him.

"I'll watch her at the party, don't worry. You keep a look out for Malfoy and I'll keep an eye on her."

"Deal," Ron replied roughly, staring at the closed portrait door that Hermione had already disappeared behind.

*** *** ***

It was as though all the air was escaping her lungs, but she couldn't get any to go back in. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on calming thoughts, but all she could picture was Ron chastising her; all because Cormac's lips attacked hers. At first it wasn't so bad. It was almost kind of nice because when she closed her eyes and kissed him back, she could pretend she was kissing someone else. But the kiss didn't feel right. It felt artificial, like kissing someone in a dream. And then the pain kicked in. She had made the mistake of opening her eyes as Cormac went in again. It was all wrong; the illusion was broken and it was like knives cutting into her. She had to get away, but not back to the common room because Ron would see her, and he would know. She wanted him to think the worst. She wanted him to know what true regret felt like. So, instead, she ran. She ran until she couldn't run anymore. She wasn't sure what part of the school she was in, but it was very dark and eerily quiet. She came to a dead end and stopped, panting heavily. She leaned against the cool stone wall, embracing it with her palms, then, letting gravity do its work, she let herself slump down to the floor. It was hard to breathe after running so hard (and in heels), and she found after a few minutes her breathing wasn't returning to normal. In fact, it appeared to be getting harder to breathe. In her mind a cruel and spiteful Ron made terrible accusation about her and mocked her incessantly. She saw images of Ron and Lavender conoodling together. She imagined herself and Ron getting in another row and him telling her how little she compared to the love of his life, Lavender. She wanted to scream. This can't last forever, can it? This can't get any worse. But she already knew it could and that it was going to.

*

It was with a start that Hermione woke up. It was still very dark and she had no idea what time it was, though she knew it was late. She was still in that same far off corner of the castle she had run off to. Her neck hurt from the way she fell asleep, or passed out from lack of oxygen. She took off her shoes and began to run again, back to the common room. It was incredibly dark along the way, especially in certain places, and as she made her way down a flight of stairs she tripped over something she hadn't seen. She fell awkwardly, tumbling head first and rolling over a couple times. It was a miracle she didn't break her neck. "Oww," she moaned out loud, to no one but herself, her cheek kissing concrete. She pushed herself off the ground and examined the damage. Her neck had hit a step pretty hard and was throbbing. She also managed to snap one of her straps from her dress. "Damn," she sighed, sure she looked a mess. It was a good thing no one would see her. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget that night ever happened. It was dead quiet in the common room, everyone had long gone to bed. Even still, she began her ascension up the stairs very carefully, stepping softly, as though she was afraid of being caught out so late. But, by the second step she tripped again, and her shoes flew out of her hand. The clunking sound was startling in the stillness of the room.

"Just getting in?" A snide voice called out from behind her. Hermione froze and then slowly turned around. Ron was now sitting up on the sofa near the fireplace. Hermione looked at him anxiously, but also confused. She hadn't seen him when she first came in.

"What are you doing, waiting up for me? Spying?" she asked in an acerbic tone. Ron looked like she accused him of punching kittens.

"That's a laugh. Why would I do something like that? Harry asked me to watch out for Malfoy and I must have dozed off," he lied. The truth was he had been sitting there all night, waiting for her to come through the door.

"That's a delightful story Ronald, but if you don't mind, I have better things to do that waste my time listening to you yammer on."

"Better things to do, like McLaggen?" He knew it was a low blow, but at the same time he needed an answer. He looked at her callously, noticing the mark on her neck, the broken strap, and the late hour she was getting in at, putting two and two together in his mind. She suddenly had a flashback to her dream. She swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. As she stood there trying to think of something to say, her mind landed on a very powerful thought that caused her to fill up with a terrible fever.

Where does he get off, being upset? If it wasn't for Ronald Weasley, I wouldn't have this curse on me in the first place. If he never got with Lavender, I wouldn't have been out there that day, alone. If he hadn't been throwing his relationship in my face, I wouldn't have been running away from them. If he had just loved me back...it's his fault. I hate Ronald Weasley.

"What's it to you, what me and Cormac do?" she asked now, overcoming her nerves and replacing them with anger. His eyes looked like they might fall out of his skull as she said it. He was standing up now facing her, a scowl etched on his face.

"Couldn't care less," he replied, gritting his teeth. She wasn't denying it.

"There's a surprise, Ron Weasley, not caring," she replied, feigning shock.

"What's that suppose to mean?" he asked, taking a step closer to her. She also moved toward him, descending the stairs, her arms flaying now as she spoke.

"It means you, Ronald Weasley, are a complete arse."

"Oh. I'm the arse!? I'm not the one who's been walking around here lately like some sort of ice queen. But it looks like Cormac thawed you out," he exclaimed, gesturing to her appearance. "I shouldn't be surprised, though, I knew you and Krum weren't discussing the deep inner-workings of the human mind."

"You haven't a clue to what you're talking about. And I am not the one who goes around snogging some tart, so the whole school can see." They were yelling now, only a couple feet apart.

"No, apparently you prefer to do your snogging in private...So, where is McLaggen? Did I just miss him?"

"I have no idea. I left him at the party ages ago. The last time I saw him, he was being dragged away by Snape," she admitted, though her voice was still furious. She didn't know why she was being so honest with him.

"What's that now?" he asked confused. His face instantly began to soften in his confusion.

"I wasn't off snogging Cormac. I fell asleep..." She couldn't look at him. She was trying to fight the rising anger.

Ron's expression was now full of concern. "What happened to you, then?"

"Nothing. I fell. It was dark. There was something on the stairs," she mumbled.

"Are you alright?" Hermione just nodded her head.

"So, you weren't with McLaggen?" Hermione thought his voice sounded hopeful, but she wasn't sure why or how she should respond to his question. He seemed happy that she hadn't been off with Cormac, but what did that mean, she wondered, her mind traveling to the worst conclusion. He was probably thrilled because it meant no one wanted her; he won. She lost. He had Lavender and she was alone. He wanted to gloat, she thought irrationally. Or, maybe he was mad because she had been fraternizing with the enemy again and was now happy because it didn't work out.

"I lost him when he went with Snape. I left to find him, but obviously I didn't. I'm not worried though, I'll get to say goodbye to him before we leave tomorrow," she lied.

"Well then, crisis averted," he responded just as coolly as she had.

"Yep."

They stood there for a long moment, not saying anything and then Ron turned to leave, hesitantly. "You forgot this." Hermione called to him, needing any excuse to keep him there with her. She held out his potions book he left on the table, and, as she did so, a piece of parchment fell to the floor. They both bent down to pick it up, but she got to it first.

Lavender + Ron forever

Lavender loves Ron....

Hermione stared at the girlish scribbling, her blood boiling. She began to feel faint and her hand was shaking.

"Don't forget this," she told him icily, but her voice was trembling. He looked guilty as he scanned it over. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

"It must be devastating, to know you'll be so far from her for the entire break." Her voice was not welcoming. "How will you get on without her? Perhaps she could come for a visit. You can show her off to your family. Introduce her..."

"Are you visiting anyone? I heard that maybe ...that Krum had invited you..."

"Oh yes..." replied Hermione at once, her voice perking up, "...he was very persistent about getting me to come see him." Her mouth twisted into a devious smile. "I still haven't decided yet. I know my parents would like me home, but I bet it looks beautiful there with the snow right now."

"What about Cormac?"

"Cormac isn't going anywhere," she replied, not really sure, herself, where that answer had come from. All she knew was she wanted to hurt Ron; hurt him like he was hurting her.

"You just enjoy stringing them along, don't you? You like the attention, but don't care how they feel, is that it?" he asked, his temper flaring again. He wasn't really talking about Krum or McLaggen.

"You're judging me?! You're only with Lavender because she goes around worshiping the ground you walk on; Clinging herself to you like a squid. It's pathetic. How can you even call that a relationship, when all you do is snog each other's brains out?!"

"Jealous, Hermione?"

"Oh, please. Don't make me laugh."

"Lavender is a lovely girl. Why is it so unbelievable for you to image that someone could think I'm great? Just because you can't see it. Maybe I'm not Harry or Vicky, but I'm not completely worthless."

"I never said you were worthless. I don't think that."

"I'm done worrying what you think. You can think whatever you want as long as you think it away from me."

"Because you have Lavender now. She's your whole world?" she asked sarcastically.

"At least she doesn't prefer me to be miserable. She actually considers my happiness."

"Does she consider anything else in that tiny brain of hers?"

"We can't all be geniuses like you. And some of us try to have a little thing called fun. I don't know who in their right mind would waste their time on you--"

"Fun?" she asked, cutting off his ruthless jab. "All you two do is stick your tongues down each other's throats."

"You know, for a girl who claims to not be jealous, you sure like to talk about me kissing a lot."

"I was hoping you'd get the hint that it sickens me and maybe refrain from doing it in public."

"I don't know, Hermione, you could pick up some helpful tips watching us, and you know, use them on your new boyfriend. Help keep this one around a bit."

"Ha. Now, you're truly trying to make me laugh. Cormac doesn't need any tips. He does quite well on his own."

"Better than Vicky, even?" he stuttered, bothered by the fact that she didn't correct him when he said boyfriend.

"Viktor was good, but Cormac has really perfected the art." Hermione turned away so that she was perpendicular to Ron. His jaw was set as he listened to her merciless retort. She could feel his breathe on her neck. Just then, as though on cue, Cormac walked straight into the common room, his dazed look turning into one of shock, upon seeing them there. The two jumped apart, instantly. Ron eyed McLaggen, and then Hermione for a very tense moment, before turning away, and without uttering a single syllable to either, stalked off to the boys' dormitory. When he was gone Hermione turned sharply to Cormac, who still looked confused and asked, "Where are you coming from at this time of the night?"

He didn't understand why she was so furious with him, but replied, "Snape made me clean out some old storage closet as punishment for accidently ruining his shoes... Anyways, I got locked inside. Thought I'd be in there all night. If Filch hadn't heard me..." He dropped his thought and asked suspiciously, "What were you two talking about, anyways?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter," she told him in a tired voice. She walked up to the girl's dormitory too weak to even cry.