Something was off; the fine hairs on his neck were standing on end, and it had nothing to do with the slim, manicured fingers that rested there. He was uncomfortable and had the distinct impression that people were staring at him.
He’d no sooner walked through the door to the common room when she threw herself at him. He didn’t have a chance to catch up with anyone before she was there; picking up right where they left off before the hols, pinned to the chair with his girlfriend. He knew it was time to stop and head up to his room; maybe he’d have a chance to talk with Harry about what Hermione thought about the run in with Scrimgeour. He’d wanted to actually be there during the conversation, and maybe get another shot at getting Hermione to talk to him. But the girl attached to him and planted firmly in his lap had other ideas. His mind was still reeling; he needed to think and that was simply not going to happen while he was being occupied.
Ron gently pushed her back a bit. “Hey, let’s call it a night, yeah? Class in the morning and all…” he hoped he didn’t sound as lame as he thought he did. Class? No one who knows me would buy that excuse.
“Hmmm. Yes, it will be an early start. And I can’t wear you out too soon, can I Won-Won?” Lavender smiled dreamily at him and smoothed her skirt as she got out of their chair by the fire. Ron tried not to wince at his new “pet name”. He just hoped the Twins never got word of it. Hell, I hope no one ever hears that. Lavender turned to look back at him, hand extended. Oh, yeah she told me about this. She wants to be walked to her stairs—Proper Boyfriend Etiquette or something like that. He took her hand and she led them to the stairs, cuddling his arm the whole way. He used to get a swooping feeling in his stomach when she latched onto him like that; like taking a deep dive on your broom when you guard the hoops. But this time …nope, no swoop.
They passed within earshot of Harry. He was looking rather relaxed and happy sitting there talking with Hermione. But stopping to talk to Harry was not part of the ‘Goodnight Kiss Policy’. He sighed inwardly at the remembrance and tried not to look at them, or more specifically her. She’d deliberately talked around him when they got back, as if she hadn’t heard him at all. Ron frowned.
She could have at least said hello or looked at me. I know she heard me. And I’m not mad anymore…I…
Lost in his internal conversation, Ron hadn’t noticed they’d reached the door to the girls’ staircase. He heard Hermione laugh; he heard Harry mumble ‘Scrimgeour’, and the swoop came back as he listened. Lavender was looking at him expectantly, blinking so slowly that her eyelashes looked like they were waving at him. Oh, she must have said something. “Sorry, lost in thought. What was that again?”
“I said I thought about you all through the break. Did you miss me, sweetheart?”
Ron gulped. Bloody hell, another reference to that thing. She doesn’t let anything go. “Yeah. Yeah, I thought about you. Loads.” He felt a little sick. It wasn’t exactly a lie; he had thought about Lavender, especially after that necklace. Thousands of thoughts ran through his mind constantly since he was branded her “sweetheart”: he thought about how she’d grabbed him, and wanted him, and how great that had been. And then he thought about how she talked complete nonsense all the time; how she lectured him; how she’d given him something so…not him for Christmas. He should have been flattered, he supposed. But he wasn’t. He’d thought about the swoop. Well, actually, lack of swoop. He’d not had that feeling in his gut at all at the Burrow when he thought about Lavender. And then he thought how uncomfortable that thought made him. Maybe I’m thinking too much. I used to tell Hermione she thought too much. When we were talking to each other…
She was leaning toward him again, and kissed him warm and long. “Those lips are my lips. I’ll be back for them.” she said in a sultry whisper while she turned and disappeared up the stairs.
Ron stood there a good while, brow furrowed. Her lips? Bugger, what else of me has she laid claim to? Ron’s brain started to whir again: that necklace, her lips, her Ron, Won-Won. He was a man possessed, and he didn’t really like it anymore. He should have liked it, what bloke in his right mind wouldn’t want a great girl like Lavender, and her attributes, all over him. Lavender had been right there; she wanted him and made no attempt to hide it. He wanted more, too. But the girl that he wanted more with didn’t want him. Or at least he’d thought at the time. Standing there lost in his thoughts though, the pieces all seemed to fall into place: the invitation to Slughorn’s party, the look on her face when he’d snapped at her after the match, the way she ran out of the common room, the bloody attack canaries, the silent treatment, the swoopy feeling ….bloody hell what a mess.
Still staring at the door, Ron heard voices behind him. Hermione was saying goodnight to Harry and would be making her way to her own stairs shortly. Maybe without Harry there, he could say goodnight to her and she’d say it back. No one to hold her pride up for if Harry wasn’t there, right? That would fix this, put them back to rights. Wouldn’t it?
Hermione walked toward him, her eyes resolutely on the door.
She was practically right in front of him, and he was in front of the door, blocking her way. She can’t ignore me if I’m standing right in front of her.
Ron quietly cleared his throat, “G’night Hermione.”
She didn’t blink. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t stop even for a second. She lifted the latch and went through the doorway as if he were invisible.
Bugger, I guess she can…
As Ron walked around to his own stairs with his shoulders drooping, that swooping feeling came back; only now it was more a cold plunk than a warm swoop. He met Harry about halfway, climbing up for the night as well.
“Passed inspection tonight, did you?” Harry smirked at him.
“Shut it, Harry…” he said distractedly.
“Everything all right there, mate?”
Ron paused on the steps, and looked Harry in the eye. “No, Harry. It’s not all right….” and Ron filled Harry in on his goodnight with Lavender.
“She actually called them ‘her lips’! And that necklace…” Ron finished with a huff as they entered their dorm room. “And,“ he looked around quickly, lowering his voice, “Hermione didn’t even look at me when I tried to talk to her. Twice.”
“Twice? You tried again?” Harry was riffling through his trunk for pyjamas, but could see Ron looking at the floor in the reflection from his glasses.
Ron nodded. “Yeah.”
“Sounds serious, Ron. What are you going to do?” Harry turned; he tried not to smile at his friend’s discomfort.
“Dunno,” Ron shrugged. “I’ve never dealt with this before…”
Harry blinked at him and managed to keep a straight face. “She’s given you the silent treatment before, how’d you get through it last time?”
“I thought you meant Lavender.” he shrugged, but Ron knew Harry couldn’t have meant Lavender after the “silent treatment” remark; the girl didn’t even stop talking to breathe.
“I thought you meant Hermione.” And Harry left, with his towel in hand, for the loo. Ron stood agog in the middle of the room, watching yet another door shut without being any closer to any answers.
Bloody hell what a mess…
A/N: Much love to natertatersmom, who inspired me, worked with me, cheered me on, allowed me to use her quote, and cajoled me to submit this. And to fitzette, who suggested the title. Cheers, Ladies!
