Title and quotes are from JKRowling's work...still not mine.
“What were you doing up there with her?”
How many rows did he have under his belt with Hermione over the years? Too many to actually count, and there were three in particular he’d really like to forget. He held his ground well when it was the two of them leaning into each other, arms folded and huffing about like the Hogwarts Express; Harry swore he even saw steam from Ron’s ears a couple of times. But Lavender was a different situation altogether. They didn’t really ever talk, so when they argued—she argued-- he never quite knew what to say. Originally he’d just agreed with whatever she said because he’d wanted to get back to snogging. Later on he realized that arguing with Lavender wasn’t the same as rowing with Hermione. It just wasn’t as exciting. Lavender could disarm him instantly with sad eyes that threatened to overflow at any moment, but she lacked the fire to her arguments that Hermione had. Hermione was all fire and ice: she would fling arguments back at him until they reached a shaky truce or stormed silently away from each other, and he’d only seen her cry twice in six years.
Both times were because of him.
A good many people were under the impression that Lavender was, well, more endowed physically than mentally. Lavender wasn’t thick at all, she just had different priorities and concerns; it wasn’t her fault Hermione was brilliant and people compared them because they were roommates. Hermione was the ‘if you can’t be beautiful, be smart girl’ and Lavender was the ‘good thing she’s gorgeous girl’ as far as most were concerned.
But Lavender was no more stupid than Hermione was ugly, and Ron knew that difference better than anyone.
Sure Lavender might seem shallow but that was only because she had different worries from Hermione: Lavender spent most of fifth year believing the tabloids and Seamus rather than Harry; her biggest concerns were Divination and dress robes before she figured it out; she’d been part of the D.A. after all. After the Department of Mysteries everyone knew Harry had been right. Lavender certainly knew things were bad, but there was no way he could ever tell her just how bad it really was: Say, Lav, Harry there, he’s going to have to save the Wizarding World because there was a Prophecy made that said he did; yeah, no bloody way he’d tell her that. He and Hermione knew it; they’d lived it every second they’d known Harry.
And really, how many people were under the constant worry of finding a way to keep their best mate from total annihilation by a seriously evil wizard on a near daily basis?
Lavender had suspected something was going on ever since the beginning of term. She’d ask him loaded questions and he gave noncommittal replies; questions that had become more frequent and more suspicions ever since their first Apparition lesson when he had left her in the Great Hall to talk with Harry.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you were getting out today and what was she doing with you?’ He’d stuffed his first opportunity to let Lavender down easily. Hermione he would have yelled over until she had to listen to him. Lavender pouted and lectured him about being seen with other girls when he was supposed to be her boyfriend, and he really wasn’t equipped to handle that line of argument. So he stood there opening and closing his mouth like an idiot, instead of ending it as he should have.
He’d dropped several dozen hints since then: he had Prefect duties, Quidditch practice, his studies, Apparition lessons, Harry… all of which Lavender had alternately ignored, brushed off as ‘cold feet’, or tsk’ed as a lingering effect of being poisoned.
But this! This had all the markings of a legendary row: suspicious girlfriend, crowded common room, he and Hermione walking down the stairs alone right in front of everyone. As far as Very Public Rows went, this may be as spectacular as when Hermione told him to ask her to the next Ball first and not as a last resort.
He chanced a quick sideways look at Hermione. She stood next to him frozen on the stairs, her eyes following the shimmer of Harry under his invisibility cloak, or where Harry should be, if anyone could see him. Her initially halting hand stiffened on Ron’s arm while he spluttered, taken off-guard by the shrillness of Lavender’s voice, his worry about Harry’s sanity, and Hermione’s warm hand. Once Harry was safely away, Hermione was likely to launch herself into this soon-to-be-shouting match; he needed a solution and fast.
Lavender was still shouting the rafters loose, and yet, there was a strange relief that overshadowed any anger he thought of directing her way. He owed it to her to pay attention to this rant; he was her boyfriend, and it was with Lavender he learned what boyfriends were supposed to know.
“You’ve been ignoring me for weeks while you were after her?” Arms folded, she tilted her chin in righteous anger to Hermione. “I’m sure she was just helping you…study.”
Well, almost overshadowed his anger. And he really didn’t like what she was implying. “What are you on about? I haven’t…she wouldn’t…we never did anything of the sort!” Bloody hell! I would have tried if I’d known I’d be accused anyway! If Hermione would have …
“…Used me!” she hissed, glaring at him, daring him to argue with her. Ron winced; he could only hope that everyone in the Common Room wouldn’t hear exactly how she thought he had used her. He was suddenly very grateful Harry was no longer in the room; if she shouted half of what Hermione had told him she overheard, well, it was definitely not something he wanted his little sister to hear. “And now, sneaking back down from your room? Don’t think that I don’t know what you were doing up there, alone and in the…”
“We weren’t alo—“
“Oh right! I forgot! Of course Harry was with you! Your constant witness!” She was even louder now and had spread her arms wide; people were actually watching in interest. “Well,” she asked impatiently, “where is he, Ron?”
Ron looked helplessly at the Portrait hole. Bugger, can’t say he just left, no one here would believe that. He looked around the room for some idea of what he could say; all other conversations had stopped. Ginny had stopped arguing with Dean and was staring at him pointedly, as if to say ‘Get on with it, Ron!’ Seamus looked vaguely amused and settled comfortably onto a table to watch the spectacle. Neville had crouched lower in his chair, hoping not to be seen.
Ron looked pointedly to Hermione. What do I say?
Her eyes widened at him, How should I know? came her silent reply.
“Lavender, please…” Hermione quietly tried, her eyes darting around at everyone in the room.
“Don’t. You. Talk. To. Me.” She whirled on Hermione, pointing at her. “You wouldn’t even stay in the same room with him after I started seeing him!” Lavender paused; she was obviously waiting for Hermione to apologize. Or argue. Or something. Ron looked at her hand still on his arm, and it may have been his imagination, but he felt Hermione tighten her fingers around him only just slightly. Was she claiming him? Eyebrows raised and halfway grinning, he tilted his head to look at Hermione; she looked like she was chewing on her tongue. “You had two years to do something! Anything! And you waited until I had him to—” She turned to Ron, paling in accusation. “Just how long have you been cheating on me, Ron?”
“Now wait just a moment.” Hermione took a step forward. Lavender glared at her, drawing up taller as she did. “Ron would never che—“
Ron stifled a groan. Five years of nagging and now she defends me! Oi, rotten timing, Hermione.
“You think you know everything, don’t you?” Lavender spat, throwing her arms to her sides and leaning toward Hermione. “But you don’t know the first thing about him or what he…”
Hermione stood dangerously still, her voice low. “You have no idea what I know about …”
“..And it’s killing you! I know what you’ve been trying to do! Visiting him all hours of the night when he’d been poisoned,” her voice rose again, “helping him catch up lessons! Getting him all to yourself so you could…”
Lavender was throwing her accusations, many of which were mercifully lost in Hermione’s own loud assertions, while Ron tried to think of what to do. She had him dead to rights. Lavender couldn’t see Harry, he had been avoiding her, and while she’d denied it at the times, she well knew it now. He had been spending more time with Hermione; he wanted to be with Hermione and had even told Harry he hoped for a…
And the solution presented itself: Lavender needed to be angry; Ron needed Lavender to ditch him.
There was only one way out of this to everyone’s satisfaction.
“Hermione,” he cut in gently. Hermione and Lavender both stopped shouting and looked at him. “Leave it, Hermione,” he said quietly, laying a deliberate hand on her shoulder. Ron moved the step to stand next to her. “She’s not going to listen to either of us,” he whispered. Hermione’s eyes flashed at him; he raised one eyebrow, Trust me, please.
“And I’m supposed to believe there’s nothing going on! Look at yourselves! You’re standing right in front of me, whispering in her ear. Even now you’re touching her…” Lavender’s eyes widened as she took in Ron and Hermione standing together. She nodded slowly, and in a much calmer voice said, “You pretended to be asleep all those times, didn’t you?”
Ron strengthened his hold on Hermione. Looking at Lavender, he nodded slowly.
“You haven’t been busy with other things. You’ve been avoiding me…”
Ron stepped slightly closer to Hermione, keeping his eyes locked on Lavender. Bracing himself for the onslaught, Ron inhaled deeply, “You’re right, Lavender. I have.”
She blinked sadly, and then drew her mouth in tightly. Pissed off and sad at the same time—how do girls do that? “And you didn’t have the bollocks to tell me.” That hurt. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the bollocks, he didn’t have the heart. “Fine.” She turned hard eyes on him. “I don’t need this,” she stabbed at them through the air with her hand, “and I don’t want anyone who doesn’t want me. At least I wasn’t the coward here!”
Hermione stiffened and inhaled sharply; Ron relaxed his fingers on her shoulder while Lavender gave him one last, long look. Her eyes dropped only a little, and she walked straight out the portrait hole.
“That’s it, then?” Seamus shouted from across the room. “Not much of a show. I thought sure she’d holler longer than that!”
“Sod off, Finnegan,” Ron moved his thumb gently over Hermione’s shoulder. She turned to look up at him, the same look on her face as when his mum had sent a howler second year. “All right, Hermione?”
“Never better.” Although Ron noticed she shook just a little .
“She wouldn’t have believed us, even if Harry had been here.” Ron shrugged, dropping heavily onto a sofa sometime later. Once all the excitement died down, and with nothing else going on, people either went upstairs or settled about their business. Hermione had returned from fetching Parvati and was standing in front of him. “She would only have accused him of covering for us.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron laughed. “Oh, for heavens’ sake! Like we’d get up to anything with Harry around…” She perched next to him while Ron unsuccessfully stifled his sniggers. Hermione set her jaw and tilted her head, “And when have you ever just stood there gaping while someone was shouting at you?”
That stopped his laughing. “She caught me off guard!” he defended. “I didn’t know she’d be waiting at the foot of the stairs.” Hermione stared at him with an expression bordering on hilarity. “Just as well,” he sniffed.
“Just as well? She called you a coward, Ron!” Ever since that last night in the infirmary Hermione had been more …interested in him and what he thought; maybe she always had been, but she made more of an effort for him. She was still all business when everyone else was around, and she still regarded the Prince as more than a bit dodgy, but when she was just with him she was…softer somehow. He had never known her to defend him, save that first time in the bathroom, and he had assumed that was more for Harry’s benefit.
“Yeah,” he frowned, “but if that’s what it took to end it, then I suppose I can live with that.” He ran a hand roughly over his face; it really had been a long night. “Lavender needed to have her say, and I suppose I did have it coming.”
“And she dumped you,” Hermione reminded him, “although that did conveniently get you out of your situation…”
“Yeah, well, lucky, that.” he blinked, a thought just occurring to him. “Hermione, do you think Harry’s Felix had anything to do with all that? With Lavender?”
“Ron, if you’re telling me that potion is the only reason you managed to have done with Lavender…”
“No!” he blurted. “Blimey, don’t you start up,” he sighed. This girl would be the end of him. He slung one long arm over the back of the sofa. “No, I mean, the timing of everything. Harry got a distraction; I wanted Lavender to ditch me…”
“And Ginny did break up with Dean…” Hermione mumbled, moving closer to him.
“What?” Ron tilted his head toward her. “How is that lucky for Harry? For anyone?”
“I’m not sure,” she trailed off, leaning tiredly toward him. “But if you’re right….”
“Did you just imply that I was right about something?” He grinned, curling his arm so that his hand just barely touched her shoulder.
“Don’t get used to it.” She grinned.
Hugs and smooches to queenb23 and natertatersmom for the untanglement of sentences and constant support! Thank you Ladies!
