The Seventh Year Soap Opera

RECAP OF CHAPTER TW0 - In the movies: Harry finds out that the baby's father is Ron. He punches Ron. Seamus faints. Ron tells Hermione to go after Harry. After arguing with Harry, Hermione falls asleep against a tree, due to exhaustion. (I know what you're thinking--- a tree? But what the hey!) Harry visits Dobby and talks about his feelings. Ron muses about his own feelings.

Chapter Three- Lavender, Neville, and Ginny Find Out

"Hey Ron," Lavender Brown said airily, coming through the portrait hole. Ron, one hand over his bruised eye, squinted at her. She raised her eyebrows when she spotted Seamus on the floor. She then looked curiously at Ron, noticing the dark purple outlining his eye. "Ron, what did you do to him?" she exclaimed, rushing to Seamus' side.

Ron, with a delayed reaction, grunted a greeting to his fellow Gryffindor, then realized what she had just insinuated. "Yeah, okay, blame the guy with the black eye," he muttered.

Lavender put her hands on her hips. "What happened?" she said menacingly. Ron blinked, a movement that hurt his eye so badly he clutched it. When Lavender took one step forward, Ron leaned back reflexively in the chair, as she glared at him. He never would have thought that the ditzy Gryffindor could be...well...threatening. "Well?" she snapped.

"He fainted," Ron said slowly, as though he was talking to a toddler. "What does it look like?"

"Why did he faint?" Lavender said, clearly agitated.

"Health issues?" he said, trying to appear casual. "He went totally bonkers when Harry punched me in the eye."

"Harry punched you in the eye?" she said, looking confused. I just told her that, Ron thought. Maybe she needs her hearing checked.

"Harry punched you in the eye?" she repeated. "You, Ron Weasley, his best friend, in the eye? Why?" Now her face was alight with curiousity, as it always was when she heard a piece of gossip, and she was leaning toward him, as though she didn't want to miss one word.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat as she repeated his words - his best friend had punched him - in the eye. Ron wasn't sure he'd ever get over the shock. He still hadn't gotten over Harry hitting him with a S.P.E.W. badge in the middle of his forehead in their fourth year. Ron narrowed his eyes at the blonde, and she wisely backed up. "Lavender, you are too nosy for your own good," he said. She didn't seem offended, just surprised, at this pronouncement.

The portrait hole burst open and Harry walked angrily past them, muttering things to himself. Ron felt a twisting in his stomach as his best friend stormed past, and opened his mouth to say something - though nothing he could say would change anything - but Harry didn't even look at him. Ron sighed when he heard the door to the boy's dormitories slammed.

"Hermione shouldn't be too far behind," Ron muttered. Obviously things gone hadn't gone well at their meeting.

"Why? What happened?"

"Lavender, stop being so damn nosy."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Bye Draco," Pansy Parkinson said to her boyfriend Draco Malfoy, kissing his cheek. "See you."

"Bye," Malfoy said dreamily. He snapped out of it. Malfoys didn't do anything dreamily. But you have to love her, he thought, as he watched her strut away from him, her long hair blowing in the breeze.

"Wait!" he said, running up to her and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

"Let's take a walk."

"I don't want to," she whined. Draco found this annoying and incredibly sexy at the same time. "I'm going to give Millicent a makeover."

Draco scrunched up his face. "Nothing you could do would do would help her," he said.

Pansy paused, considering this. "I guess you're right. She's uglier than that Granger cow and we all know nothing could ever help her." A glint of pure hatred for the Mudblood Gryffindor flashed in her eyes, giving her face a rather interesting look. "Okay, we can go for a walk," she said reluctantly, though Draco knew she was secretly pleased. And so they set off, Draco's arm casually around her waist, her head resting gingerly on his shoulder.

The two of them didn't speak, enjoying the silence. When Pansy opened her mouth to speak as they rounded a tree, Draco almost didn't want to answer her. "Draco, what do you think about being a Death Eater?" she asked.

He paused, as the question caught him off guard. When she continued to look up at her with her wide brown eyes, he shrugged. "It's definitely evil, but I don't like the idea of serving other people," he said thoughtfully. "They should serve me."

Pansy looked satisfied with his answer and nodded in agreement. "Well, if you don't want to be a Death Eater, what do you want to do?"

"Definitely become powerful. I want a wife to encourage me and a child to follow in my footsteps." The words came out so quickly that now Pansy was caught off guard - clearly he had thought about this before.

"You want children?" Her tone was incredulous.

"A boy," he answered matter of factly. "But I pray he's not ugly, because I'd probably go insane. He would disgrace the Malfoy family name." Pansy smiled; it was a typical Draco response. Sometimes, she thought he was more interested in his looks than he was in her.

"Well, I'm going to go into cosmetology."

"Good. While you're in it, you could get plastic surgery," Draco said teasingly. He knew perfectly well she didn't need it. She had chocolate eyes and long lashes. Her hair was long and dark and wavy. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips were pink and small. Whenever he kissed her, those lips always molded perfectly to his.

"Why don't I just turn you into a ferret?" she retorted, drawing her wand out of her alligator skin purse and pointing it at him.

"That hurts," Malfoy said, putting a hand over his heart. "Besides, you're horrible at Transfiguration."

"Is that so? Well, there's only one way to find out."

"You wouldn't." He looked at the wand in his face, smiling. He raised a hand to move it, but Pansy had already dropped it at her side, smirking at him.

"You know I would," she said, bursting into giggles. Draco certainly didn't see anything funny about this, but when Pansy indicated the reason for her laughter, he laughed as well.

"Mudblood alert," he said. "Goes to show you how stupid they really are. Sleeping against a tree. In the snow! Should I make it rain directly over her? Maybe she'd get hypothermia." His eyes were alight with glee - if he was any happier, Pansy mused, he'd be wetting himself.

"No, it's not good enough," she told him thoughtfully. "Besides, that spell would probably be too complicated for you."

"Pansy Parkinson!" Draco said.

She grabbed his hand. "I'm hungry," she whined. "Let's just leave her. I don't want to waste my time on that stupid, silly, know-it-all Mudblood." In truth, she would spend her time on the filthy Gryffindor, but if she was going to curse her, she'd do something more harmful and humiliating than a bit of rain.

"Okay," Draco said, starting to head in the opposite direction. Twenty steps later, the duo simultaneously turned around and headed back to the tree.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Yeah, Hermione's really far behind," Ron muttered. "Do you think something happened to her?"

"How would I know?" Lavender said, filled with annoyance. "You didn't even tell me what happened."

Ron shrugged and stood up. "I'm going to go look--" He was cut off as the portait hole opened.

"Ron--Lavender," Neville Longbottom panted, trying to catch his breath. "Hermione's outside in the snow, soaking wet. I think she's asleep. I'll show you."

"What?" said Ron, a mixture of shock and confusement and worry rising inside him.

It was Lavender who sprang him into action. "She might have hypothermia or frostbite!" she shrieked, grabbing her cloak. Ron did the same and the three of them raced outside.

Neville was right. She was fast asleep under a tree, sitting in the snow, drenched in water. Ron briefly wondered what the hell had happened, and then nudged her awake. "Hermione," he whispered, placing his large hands on her shoulders and shaking her a bit.

"What?" Hermione's eyes opened sleepily. She observed her surroundings, but didn't seem to actually see them. "I'm cold," she whispered, shivering. She was wearing only a thin set of black robes over a skirt and shirt. Only Hermione would wear the school uniform during the holidays, Ron thought.

Ron drew out his wand. "Accio towels," he said. With a swishing sound, two yellow towels came flying toward them. He began to carefully wrap one of the towels around Hermione's smaller frame. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks as he did so, as her eyes locked with his, slightly dazed and blurry.

"Bloke!" Lavender said, drawing out her own wand. She muttered two spells under her breath, which Ron recognized as a drying spell and a warming spell.

"Oh," he said stupidly, handing Neville the towels. Why didn't I think of that? he thought. "Are you okay?" he said, focusing his attention back on Hermione.

"I fell asleep," she said dreamily, still staring at him.

Ron nodded. "I know," he said softly. She looked so innocent, like a five-year-old, staring up at him with her teddy bear eyes, her curly, somewhat bushy brown hair sprawled across her face. Ron tucked a tendril of it behind her ear and stood up.

"Come on," he said awkwardly, extending his hand to her. She took it and tried to stand, but her knees gave way and she fell backwards into Neville's arms, who dropped the towels he had been holding.

"Ron, carry her," Lavender commanded, her teeth chattering.

Ron shook his head, picturing the look on Harry's face if he saw him carrying his girlfriend. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Well, Neville doesn't look like he can carry her weight!" Lavender said indignantly.

"Hey!" said Neville offensively, but Hermione slumped further to the ground in his arms.

Lavender raised her eyebrows at Ron. "Well, what are you waiting for? Take her from Neville and pick her up!"

Grumbling, he reached out to Hermione, sliding one arm under her legs and the other on her upper back. He lifted her up reluctantly, praying that they wouldn't run into Harry. He could see it now...

"Ron, what the hell did you do to her?" Harry's voice would say.

"Nothing Harry, she's not hurt, just tired," Ron would argue.

"Having sex with your boyfriend's best friend does that to you," Harry would reply

bitterly.

And there Ron would be, handing Hermione over to Harry, thinking how his life was so darn perfect and singing, "Happy Day, oh Happy Day!"

However, it did feel strangely right to have Hermione his arms. He had never carried her before, and it was an interesting feeling. Hermione wasn't exactly feather light, but he didn't expect anyone to weigh that much anyway, so he wasn't shocked. He was a bit surprised when Hermione buried her head into his chest, though.

Neville meanwhile, looked extremely worried as they headed into the castle. Why me? he was thinking.

Lavender was still glaring at Ron. He is supposed to be her friend. And I certainly wasn't going to pick her up!

One half of Ron was still fiercely hoping they would not run into Harry, but the other - the half that had gotten them into this whole mess - was reveling in the feel of Hermione. Hermione, herself, was oblivious to the tension in the group, owing to the fact that she had fallen back asleep.

"Password?" the Fat Lady said, looking at Hermione, who was very pale.

"Tailfeathers," Ron said hurriedly.

"What's wrong with her?" the Fat Lady asked, interested.

Did everyone have to be so nosy? "Sod off and open the door!" Ron said, just as Lavender spat, "PMS," and as Neville nervously repeated, "Tailfeathers."

"Okay," the Fat Lady said, looking slighly hurt. The portrait hole swung open.

"Oh great," Ron said loudly as they stepped into the common room. Harry was pacing back and forth anxiously. You know, today is just really a lucky day for me. First, I find out that I'm going to be a father, then my best friend punches me in the eye, then Hermione has to go and fall asleep under a bloody tree...and Harry's looking like he wants to hit me again.

For jealousy was flaring in Harry's green eyes as he spotted Hermione in Ron's arms. Following the jealousy came anger, then finally, concern. "Ron, what the hell did you do to her?" Harry said, walking up to Ron and taking Hermione from his arms. Harry set her down on the couch.

Ron rubbed his temples because his head was starting to ache harder now. "Nothing Harry, she's not hurt, just tired." Now all Harry has to do is say that sex line and I'll be like Professor Trelawney, predicting the future, he thought to himself bitterly.

"She looks more than tired to me," Harry said suspiciously.

"That's because she's pregnant, you prat!" Ron said, frustrated at Harry's stupidity. Of course she was going to be tired! But Harry wasn't exactly thinking logically, was he? And it's your fault.

"She's what?" said a confused Neville and Lavender. Ron's head turned to face them; he had forgotten they were there. He made a motion to silence Harry with his hands - he didn't want to discuss this in front of anyone - but Harry's attention was solely focused on Ron.

"I'm sorry, I've never dealt with a pregnant girlfriend before," Harry said coldly. Ron flinched a bit at the look on his friend's face. Was that the look Harry had given V-V-You-Know-Who before he had killed him?

"Hermione's what, excuse me?" interjected a new voice. Ron winced inwardly as his younger sister, walked into the common room looking strangely like a Bludger had hit her in the face.

Harry barely glanced at Ginny and continued looking at Ron as though no one else was there. "Well, now you do," Ron said tersely.

"What!?" said Neville and Lavender. Ginny's arms were crossed, looking at the pair of them intently.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Harry said angrily, his glasses slipping to the tip of his nose. Irritably, he made a swipe at them, knocking them off.

Ron's eyes focused on the glasses while he tried to come up with an explanation. Harry had every right to hear one, after all. It's just that the words pieced in his brain didn't sound like they would help the situation. "Well, er, Harry, you were in hiding and our emotions took over---"

"So that makes it right?" Harry said, cutting him off. "Ron, exactly how long was I gone before you two got together? A day? Two days? A week?"

"Harry, it wasn't like that!" Ron yelled, red as a tomato.

"Really? Tell me how it was!"

Lavender, Neville, and Ginny were holding onto every word. Harry and Ron were still bellowing at each other when Lavender noticed that Seamus was beginning to stir.

"Seamus is awake!" she said gleefully, kneeling down beside him.

"Did I miss something?" he said thickly, standing up.

Lavender glanced at Harry and Ron, who were glaring daggers at each other. "Nothing," she said.

Ron and Harry stood still facing one another, breathing heavily. Ron could very well understand Harry's anger, but damn it, he could at least shut up and allow him to talk. Didn't he want to know? Didn't he want to know why Hermione had run into Ron's arms? How Harry's absence had put such a strain on the both of them? He continued glaring down at Harry, who was shorter than he was, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Harry?" Hermione said from the couch. "Ron?" she said, noticing their angry stance.

"Yes Hermione?" Ron said.

"Shut up," Harry growled. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"What, I can't talk to her now?" Ron said furiously.

"Not unless you want another black eye." Harry's tone was cruel and harsh.

"Harry -" started Ginny, holding out his glasses.

"What?" he said coldly. Ginny's eyes pierced his defiantly.

"Calm down Harry," Hermione snapped. Harry focused his attention on her, but Ron did notice that he wasn't exactly looking at her - he was looking at some point over her shoulder. "All three of us need to go somewhere where we can talk. Then Ron and I will tell you what happened. No harsh words. No fights. Understand?"

Both boys, er, men nodded. With that, she grabbed their hands and led them out of the

common room.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Ginny stared after the three of them, not believing what she just heard. She wasn't even sure she had heard correctly. No, she hadn't. She was dreaming. It was all a dream.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ginny said suddenly. Lavender had gotten a familiar gleam in her eye - one of determination. Seamus was right behind her, running a hand through his hair and Neville was standing uncertainly next to them. At Ginny's words, the three of them turned around simultaneously, looking very much as though their hands had been caught in the Chocolate Frog jar. "That is personal," Ginny said.

"So?" Lavender said. Ginny gave her a dirty look. The blonde girl shrugged. "I want to be a reporter," she mumbled.

"Hermione will probably tell me anyway," Ginny said pointedly.

"Would you actually tell us if she did tell you?" Lavender said quickly. Ginny blinked - for someone seen as thick, Lavender was actually pretty fast.

"No," Ginny admitted.

"Then what choice do we have?"

"Choice number one is to stay here with me and choice number to is to attempt to leave but get hexed by me." Ginny straightened to her full height, which, to be honest, wasn't very tall, but she knew she could be intimidating.

Seamus winced.

"Fine," Lavender said sulkily, sitting down in a chair. "I have a magazine to read anyway." She looked up at Seamus, who withdrew a pink magazine from his robes and handed it to her. Witch Weekly.

Ginny gave a weak smile. That was her favorite magazine as well, but she seriously doubted it would take her mind off of what she had just heard. Sighing, she collapsed next to Seamus on the couch. If Hermione was pregnant, than why hadn't she come to her? Ginny rubbed her temples. It's nothing but a bad dream, remember? she told herself.

"I'll be in the dormitories. I think I'll retire early. Suddenly, I...er - don't feel so well," Ginny said. She was talking to Lavender, whose eyebrows were knitted together so tightly it was impossible that she was reading the magazine. Seamus looked sleepy and troubled, and Neville had the expression of one doused with cold water.

"Yeah, I feel the same way," Seamus said.

"Me too," said Lavender, a quiver noticable in her voice. She left her chair and went over to Seamus, sitting in his lap.

"I third that," Neville said quietly.

But none of them moved.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

"Sit," Hermione ordered, once they were out on the Quidditch pitch. Ron and Harry, after staring at her then glaring at one another, obeyed, and sat down on the bleachers.

Hermione cleared her throat and looked briefly over at Ron before turning to Harry. "Harry, before we start, I just want to assure you that what happened between Ron and I meant absolutely nothing," she said. It sounded as though she was reading a report.

Ron felt a tiny needle pierce his heart. He looked down at the ground, and could feel Hermione's eyes on him again. He lifted his head and saw her concerned expression, then forced a small smile, nodding weakly. If she believed that sleeping with him meant nothing, than it obviously hadn't.

"Now..." Hermione started. She told Harry the whole story from her point of view. Harry listened throughout her diatribe. He tried interrupting once or twice, but Hermione would simply speak more fluidly and quickly, so he wouldn't. Harry's eyes narrowed periodically, and his fists clenched at his sides.

In the middle of the explanation, he couldn't hold in his anger, and punched Ron again. This led to Ron hitting him back. For a while, the two of them simply rolled around in the grass, trying to hit every inch of the other. It was when Hermione tried to get in the middle, and wound up getting smacked across the face by one of them, that she yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" freezing both their bodies.

There were no more interruptions after that.

When the talk was over, the three of them left the Pitch seperately, Hermione with a nasty bruise on her cheek, which she healed herself. As she was in such an awful mood, she succeeded in making the wound worse, and irritably asked Lavender to perform the charm on her.

Harry, with some cuts on his face and a bloody nose, was patched up by Luna Lovegood, whom he had found in the Entrance Hall, chasing after his owl with a letter. When he went up to the boy's dormitories, however, he punched his hand directly into the wall, bloodying his knuckles. Those he did not get healed.

Ron, with a limp in the leg that he had once broken, his already bruised eye, and a newly twisted foot, went straight to Madam Pomfrey. She looked at him sadly and said, "It's always something with you three."

Ron felt inclined to agree.