A Time to Love

Chapter Six. Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titilandus

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,

Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."

_William Congreve, "The Mourning Bride"

Ginny had to say this about Hermione: she was very careful. She knew for a fact that she had to have taken showers, and such. However, Ginny never saw her - not even once - in the whole two weeks she'd been there. She knew that Ron had to have had a part in the secrecy but she would never admit that her brother could actually do something right without at least fumbling once.

She thought about this as she was getting dressed one morning. Over the two week time period, her anger had slowly lessened. She was still mad at them (who were they to leave her out?), but just not as angry as she had been.

Suddenly, a familiar owl flew through the window and Ginny's face lit up. Since she had come home for the summer, this was the third time that Daphne had come to call on her. Daphne was Dean's tawny owl that he named after his littlest sister. He had told her that he, too, had come from a large family. He had two sisters and three brothers. Unlike her, though, they were all his half brothers and sisters. She knew he didn't like to talk about his situation too much so she didn't push. Besides, family was family.

They had gotten together after the Quidditch final, when Michael had been a complete arse after his team had lost. Ginny had promptly dumped him; she had been getting tired of him anyway. And he was always whining, or something else equally annoying. Who wants a grumpy old bugger for a boyfriend, anyway?

She took the letter from Daphne's beak, gave her an affectionate pat on the head, and let her have a drink of water. Daphne was almost as beautiful as Hedwig, Harry's owl. But nothing really held a candle to her. Snowy owls were always beautiful and in Ginny's first year, she didn't need much provocation to like anything of Harry's. But now that she had given up on him and had forced herself to move on, she realised that she could like things for what they were and not because they belonged to Harry. She chuckled at her stupid crush as she opened the letter from Dean.

Dear Ginny,

What's up? Things are pretty much the same here. Fran is driving me crazy! She's just had her eleventh birthday and she is mad because she didn't get her Hogwarts letter. I don't really know what to say to her, though. Honestly, I hope none of my siblings get in, at least not while I'm still there. I've learned from you what it's like and I don't fancy having to go though it. All I have to is cross my fingers for next March when Joanne and Kathleen (the twins I told you about) turn eleven and then after that I'm in the clear.

I've been practising Quidditch and I think I'm going to try out for the team this year. I'd like to be a chaser and I know you said you want to do that too. Wouldn't it be great if we could be on the team together?

Maybe I could come over your house soon and we could practice? It's rather hard to practice Quidditch in a muggle area and I usually have to do it in the wee hours of the morning. Besides, I'd love to meet your family.

Whatever happens, be safe. And have a good summer!

Until we meet again,

Dean

Ginny reread the letter and then gathered her writing materials so she could send back a quick response. Just as she put her quill to parchment, she hesitated. What if her parents didn't agree to let him come over? She hadn't told them that she had a boyfriend and she had no idea how they would take it. She could tell them he was just a friend; after all, they always let Hermione come over and spend parts of the summer with them. Still, Ginny decided to hold off on sending the letter until she actually gained permission.

It would be really great to have Dean come and visit her. Ginny liked him much better than she had liked Michael. It wasn't that Michael was bad, exactly. He was just really commanding, not to mention annoying. She knew she was better off without him.

Dean was good as far as boyfriends went. He was a good person to talk to, and it didn't hurt that he was easy to look at. But if she going to be perfectly honest with herself, when she was kissing him, she always felt that there was much to be desired. Not to say that he was a bad kisser; he most definitely wasn't. But she couldn't really muster up any romantic feelings for him yet. But Ginny knew that would change. Their relationship was in its early stages and still had to develop. It had been the same with Michael, at first. Of course, that could have been because she was still new to kissing, and so it had been quite a strange experience. Hopefully, with Dean these feelings would go away faster than it had with Michael.

Ginny finished getting dressed and bounded down the stairs. Her stomach rumbled, as she smelled the pancakes, eggs, and bacon. To her surprise, Ron was already at the table, helping himself to a slice of buttered toast. He usually had to be forcibly dragged from his bed in the mornings.

"The world must've spun off its axis," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen you up before me."

"I guess I just wanted to actually have breakfast for once instead of the scraps that you always leave me," he said cheekily.

Ginny smiled sheepishly. It was true; she ate a lot, especially in the mornings. "What can I say," she shrugged. "I'm a growing girl." She was naturally small and never had to watch her weight and she was very grateful for that because sometimes she could really put it away.

She sat down at the table and watched her Mum cook the eggs as she reached for a piece of toast.

"Morning, Mum," she called.

"Hello Ginny, dear," she said, cooking eggs with a few expert flips of her wand. Ginny buttered her toast while her Mum slipped on oven-mitts and carried the frying pan over to their sturdy wooden table. They held up their plates and she tipped the delicious, steaming-hot scrambled eggs onto them with a quick flick of her wrist.

There was no conversation as they all tucked into breakfast. Ginny knew from experience that her family took things better with full stomachs. Just hen, Mr. Weasley came downstairs, dressed for work.

"I'm off, Molly. The Ministry's a wreck these days with You-Know-Who's return."

"He's been back for a year - they're just now choosing to acknowledge it," said Ginny. Ron nodded his agreement with his mouth full of eggs, bacon, and toast. She was glad that he hadn't opened his mouth; he had a terrible habit of stuffing his mouth with all the contents on his plate and then spraying bits of food everywhere when he talked. It was quite a terrible display.

"Never you mind that. It's not for you to deal with," said Molly. "You both already have been too involved with this." They scowled at their mother but said nothing.

"Well, it seems like Fudge's ignorance has finally worked to our advantage. My prediction is that he'll be out of his chair by the end of this week."

"And about time, too," Ron muttered.

"Well, I'm off," declared Mr. Weasley.

"Without breakfast, Arthur?"

He grabbed a piece of toast and took a bite to satisfy his wife. "I really must be going. Look after your Mum, Ron."

"Will do." And with that assurance, he popped off to work. Here was Ginny's chance right here.

"Mum?" she asked casually.

"Hmm?" she answered absentmindedly, starting to clear the table off.

"Can I have a friend over?"

Ron looked up from his plate to her at hearing this. Molly, too, had stopped with a dish in mid-air. Really, was it that strange of a question?

"A friend?" Mrs. Weasley asked as if she had never heard of the word before.

Ginny sighed. "Yes, a friend. You know - someone that you are reasonably close to. Someone you enjoy spending time with and - gasp! - invite them over to your house." She couldn't help being a little sarcastic.

"I know what a friend is. I'm just surprised because you've never invited any of your school friends over."

She shrugged. "First time for everything."

"Hm," Molly said thoughtfully. "Well, I don't see why not."

"Yes!" Ginny said triumphantly. "Thanks, Mum."

As Mrs. Weasley gathered the various dishes from the table and whisked Ron's plate from under him, though he didn't seem to notice because he was watching Ginny intently, she asked, "Who is it, by the way? Would I happen to know them?"

"Um - well -" Ginny started but Ron interrupted, "It's Dean, isn't it?"

She sent a murderous glance his way but he ignored it. "Well, is it?"

"That's none of your business," she said acidly.

Molly frowned. "Dean? You didn't tell me you were inviting a boy over."

"I didn't think it mattered. He's just a friend," she lied.

"No he isn't," Ron interjected. "He's your boyfriend."

Ginny's Mum looked at her with a surprised glance. "Oh Ginny, I didn't know you had a boyfriend. Aren't you a little young?"

"No!" Ginny exclaimed angrily. "I'm almost fifteen - that's more than old enough to have a boyfriend."

"You have four months to go until you're fifteen. I'd hardly consider you a woman of the world. Besides, I won't even consider you dating until you're sixteen."

"Sixteen!" she shouted. "That's over a year to go! Most of the girls in my year all have boyfriends and their mums don't care!"

"Oh really?" Mrs. Weasley said, lifting an eyebrow. "Have you gone to each every girl and asked them?" At the look on Ginny's face and the reddening of her cheeks, she said, "I thought not. Even if you did I wouldn't care; you are my daughter and you will do as I say. And that is the end of the discussion." She strode into the kitchen without a backward glance, her arms full of the breakfast dishes and a determined look on her face.

Ginny rounded on Ron and felt a streak of anger start within her. "How could you do that to me?"

"I was only telling the truth. Dean's your boyfriend and I won't have Mum thinking otherwise," he responded in a calm voice that infuriated her.

She had the sudden urge to slap that maddeningly calm expression off his face. Who was he to talk about the truth when he was hiding his best female friend - and she knew he fancied her - in his room. The irony of it all made her blood curdle. Ginny could very well go in the kitchen, tell her Mum everything, and get a fierce feeling of satisfaction and vengeance all in one bite. Instead, she thought of an even better idea and it was something that Ron and Hermione would both deserve.

"Don't think I won't forget this, Ron," she said venomously.

"I wouldn't even dream of it," he muttered.

As she ran up the stairs, she heard her Mum come out of the kitchen. "Ron! Ginny! I'm off for awhile!"

Ginny knew this meant Order business and this suited her just fine. She sat on the steps until she heard her Mum Disapparate. She dashed to the second floor landing and waited for Ron to make his way up to the fifth floor and into his room.

Ginny smiled evilly as she made her way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

In the drawer over in the corner were all the materials she would need. She gathered everything and went to her room. As she went inside, she gasped. There was Daphne, still waiting for her. Apparently, Dean must've told her to wait until Ginny sent a message back. She grabbed the quill, ink, and parchment still on her desk and penned a quick note to him saying that he wouldn't be able to come over after all. She apologised to Daphne and sent her on her way. That done, Ginny started on her other project - getting even with Ron.

***

Ron sighed as he handed Hermione her breakfast, which was stuffed full of food that he had nicked from the table and put inside a napkin. She accepted it gratefully and started to eat.

"I heard the fight," she said in between a bite.

"Did you hear the whole thing?"

"Yes," she said stiffly, which took him back a little. "And I don't you should have told on her."

She made it sound like he was five years old again. "I think I did the right thing," he shrugged.

"You can hardly blame her for wanting to have a boyfriend," she said. It was with this that he heard her voice change. What's up with her?

"Yes I can. I'm her brother - it's my job to do that. And if some bloke was paying attention to you, I'd make sure to have him go through hell, too."

Obviously, that was the wrong thing to say. Instead of her eyes softening, they lit up with tears. And these were NOT happy tears.

"What did I say?"

Hermione wiped a stray tear that was falling down her face. "You don't know?" she asked in a hurt voice.

"How should I? I didn't think I said something bad!" he said throwing his arms about wildly.

"That's just it! You're so insensitive! Just forget about it!"

"I can't forget about it now! What kind of prat would I be if I just let you cry?"

"I'd say you were acting pretty normal."

Normally he would've retorted but he could see she was really going through distress right now and Ron knew it wasn't right to push her buttons.

"Come on, what is it really?"

These words brought her to tears. Never in a million years would he have the ability to figure out girls and Ron became more puzzled with each sob. He waited for her to let it out and he estimated that she cried for at least a good five minutes, if not more.

Finally, when she was done and the tears had dried on her face, she said, "I feel so foolish."

"Don't," he said. "Sometimes things just build up so much for so long, that we just explodes and it all comes out."

"Yes," she nodded. "But that doesn't make me feel any less like a prize idiot."

He didn't know of anything to say that would make her feel less idiotic, so he just asked, "What's wrong, anyway?"

Hermione sighed. "It's really hard to explain. I don't think you'll understand."

"Try me." It was a challenge. He knew she would never turn down a direct challenge. And she didn't disappoint.

"Fine," she said. "But you can't interrupt me."

"Fine then, I won't. Get on with it before next year."

"It's just that...Ginny's a year younger than me."

He waited for her to continue but she didn't appear to be preparing to open her mouth anytime soon. "And you're just now figuring that out?"

"Sort of," she said sheepishly. "I guess you could say... you could say that I..." she took a deep breath then continued. "You could say that I got jealous."

Ron stared at her. He didn't know exactly what she would say, but it certainly hadn't been this. He had never before seen her jealous and he would not have guessed it would be because Ginny was a year younger than she was.

"But why?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" she asked in an aggravated tone. She rubbed her eyes and he imagined they must be itchy after crying for so long.

"Yes!" he said insistently.

"I was jealous because Ginny's had two boyfriends since she was thirteen and I haven't even had one. I mean, Viktor was just a friend and I never felt anything for him. But I guess it's mostly that..." she was playing with the bottom of her shirt and wouldn't meet his eyes. He also suspected a little pink tinge in her cheeks and couldn't help but think how sexy it made her. All right, Weasley. Just because you fancy her doesn't mean you should start thinking about her sexiness. You do still have to sleep with her, remember? Don't want a repeat of that other night, do you? He thought, even though almost every other night the same thing had happened. It was a hard life to live when you fancied your best friend.

"That...?" Ron prodded.

"That I've never been kissed," she said quietly.

"Oh."

In a weird, twisted sort of way, that made sense. Hadn't he himself been just slightly jealous after Cho had kissed Harry? It was natural that Hermione felt this way, especially considering that Ginny was a year younger than she was and had much more experience than she. Yes, Ron could see where she was coming from. He just hadn't expected it - the jealousy, that is - to hit her so hard.

"Yeah," she said softly.

Hermione looked up at him in such a vulnerable way that it nearly broke his heart. And so that's how Ron came up with his first truly brilliant plan.

"I have an idea!" he announced.

"What?" she asked sceptically.

"You can kiss me," he said so simply, yet he had no idea how it had actually come out of his mouth.

"What!" she said, her jaw dropping.

"Wait, hear me out first. This'll be good, I promise."

"All right," she said very hesitantly.

"If you don't kiss anybody by - oh, Halloween, I guess - then you'll kiss me. It won't be a real kiss," he assured her in spite of his wildly beating heart that was strongly protesting otherwise. "But it'll be just to say you did it. And it'll also be practice, for, you know...when you get your real kiss."

He waited for a couple of moments before finally chancing a look at her face, and what he saw on there greatly surprised him. Hermione was actually warming to the idea; she was slightly smiling and nodding her head. She even had a...glow about her that wasn't there before.

"You know, it just might work."

"Well, I am brilliant, after all."

"Don't push it, Ron."

"Yes ma'am," he said in mock humility.

"Yes...yes," she was muttering to herself.

"And it's not like we have to worry about...you know...feelings, and stuff, because we're both best friends.

"Right," she said slowly. Was it just him or did she seem slightly disappointed?"

"So what do you say, are we agreed? Are we going to kiss each other on Halloween?" It sounded weird coming from his mouth. Ron couldn't believe she had agreed and he had actually been the one to suggest it in the first place.

"We most certainly have an agreement," she said and held out her hand. He looked at it as if she was holding out a piece of liver.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Well, it's an agreement, so we have to shake on it, don't we?"

"Yes, I suppose we do."

He clasped his hand into hers he felt the electricity surge through him and it shocked them both. They quickly sprung apart. There was no doubt about it; they had made a spark.

"Friction," she quickly explained and he just nodded. Better and prettier than the truth that he and his best friend had merely touched and made a spark.

What had he just gotten himself into?

***

With Mrs. Weasley still on her errand and Ginny no where to be found, Ron and Hermione had the house to themselves. Hermione felt it would have been nice if she could have had free roam of the place but knew it wasn't worth the risk of being caught.

She would have loved to spend just ten minutes away from Ron. All day long, she had been filled with the most annoying urge to gather him up in her arms and snog him until they were both out of their senses. This was why that even though she had already finished all her summer homework, she was pretending to work on a tiring Arithmancy essay that required complete concentration. 'Pretending' was the key word. Her thoughts were as far away from numbers and equations as was possible; all her head was filled with was Ron.

Hermione couldn't believe how weak she had been earlier. She rarely ever cried and did it even less frequently in front of Ron. But she couldn't help herself as the dam of tears had burst forth. Hermione usually prided herself at not being the type of girl who burst in tears at the drop of a hat, or the kind of girl who was so insecure. But today she had become exactly what she despised. And it was all because of Ron.

She was ashamed at her jealousy of Ginny. She had never been anything but nice to her, but Hermione in turn had let the green-eyed monster overcome her. It was just that she couldn't help it - she desperately wanted to be kissed, and by Ron. Hermione had been so surprised when Ron had made his proposition - but not so surprised that she had refused. If she had even dared speculate over this, she might have discovered that he fancied her just as much as she fancied him. But she didn't dare. When it came to Ron, Hermione almost never dared.

A sudden noise by the window startled her out of her musings. She looked up and saw Hedwig. It wasn't Hedwig's appearance that was so surprising - Ron and Harry frequently wrote each other short letters that always avoided serious topics - but the envelope that was clutched to her beak. Instead of the usual colour of parchment, it was red - the very same red that Howlers were.

"Ron!" she said, pointing towards Hedwig. He looked up from the book he was reading. A comic book slid from the pages and it was clear that he had been reading that instead of his schoolbooks. She would have told him off if it weren't for the fact that the Howler had started smoking around the edges.

"But -" Ron sputtered.

Hermione bravely took the singed edge of the envelope and slowly opened it while looking away. Why had Harry sent Ron a Howler?

"I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING LOADS OF FUN, HERMIONE!"

Hermione gasped. How had he known?

"BET YOU'RE SURPRISED TO HEAR FROM ME, AREN'T YOU? THOUGHT YOUR PLAN WAS WELL THOUGHT OUT DIDN'T YOU? AND WHAT ABOUT YOU, RON? HOW ARE YOU FARING? CAN'T BE TOO BAD HAVING YOUR BEST FRIEND HIDE IN YOUR ROOM, I EXPECT. THANKS A LOT FOR LETTING ME IN! VERY THOUGHTFUL AND CONSIDERATE OF YOU! IT'S GOOD TO KNOW MY FRIENDS CARE ABOUT ME SO MUCH. MUST BE MY GOOD LUCK AND ALL THAT!"

Hermione could hear the sarcasm and pure venom drip from every word that was spat at them. She bowed her head in shame. How could they have not told Harry? At the time she thought she was doing the right thing by keeping it from him because she didn't want him to feel lonely, like last year. But he found out anyway.

Hermione frowned. If he knew, then somebody must have told him. But who? Surely, Fred and George valued their business reputation more than that.

"SO JUST HOW BLOODY LONG WERE YOU PLANNING ON KEEPING IT FROM ME? WERE YOU PLANNING ON TELLING ME AT ALL? LUCKY THAT I HAVE GINNY TO DEPEND ON. AT LEAST I HAVE ONE PERSON WHOSE MAIN PURPOSE IN LIFE ISN'T TO KEEP ME IN THE DARK!"

Ginny? But how did she know? And why would she tell?

"BY THE TIME I TALK TO YOU TWO AGAIN, YOU'LL HAVE FORGOTTEN WHAT MY VOICE SOUNDS LIKE!"

True to his word, he abruptly stopped talking. The Howler burst into flames and then burned to ash. To Hermione's surprise, Ron stood up and threw open the door. "GINNY!" he bellowed. She obviously had been listening at the door because she walked right in with a very self-satisfied grin on her face. Hermione felt her heart sink.

"What did you do that for?" he asked in a low and angry voice.

"I was only telling him the truth. You're hiding Hermione here and I'm not going to keep him in the dark," she said and Hermione recognised that she had his earlier words back at him. "And don't you dare try to blame this on me. If you two had told me and him the truth in the beginning, none of this would have happened."

Ginny was right, of course. Obviously, Harry wasn't the only one who felt left out. Hermione suddenly felt sickened with shame. How could she have been so stupid?