#I will fling myself off the stadium if we get potter

[7yearsofdele]

At the end of the day, we are looking far more likely to end up in Europe than Chelsea, so therefore we should be able to pick out manager and they should get second choice for once.

[host-club-hq]

Call of the Scar pt. 1

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them this time?

➼ part 1 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

➼ talk to the characters!

Frank Bryce sets a kettle on the stove and- with a shaky hand- adjusts the flame. He leans forward, squinting to get the fire right, and the window beyond his is revealed. Something flickers. Softly. Then again. Frank turns. 

Atop the hill, light dances in one of the windows of the manor. 

CLANG!

Frank emerges from the cottage, walking stick in hand. He limps into the yard and approaches a door almost completely covered in ivy. He fits a rusty key into the lock

The knob squeals dryly. The walking stick pierces the shadows, then Frank himself enters. His nostrils flare against the sour air. He cocks an ear. Frank's shadow spreads darkly on the landing. Above a small table is an old calendar, freckled with Mildew. August 1943

Frank reaches the top and stops. His breath drifts like smoke. 

At the end of the hallway, a door stands ajar, casting sliver of light across the dusty floor. Frank edges closer and sees a narrow slice of the room beyond. A feeble fire flickers in the grate. From within: voice.

"But where here, my Lord? It seems so... inhospitable.

"How fastidious you've become, Wormtail. As I recall, only recently you called the nearest gutterpipe home. Could it be that the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you?"

"No, my Lord! I only meant-"

"I have my reasons for coming here. Thirteen years of reasons."

"Perhaps if we ere to do it without the boy..."

"No! The boy is everything!"

Just then, the tip of Frank's walking stick vibrates against the floorboard. He eyes it curiously, then- in mute horror- watches a giant snake emerge from the shadows behind him. As it skims past his shoes and into the room, an eerie hiss greets its arrival.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail. According to her, there is an old Muggle standing just outside this room."

The door flings wide, revealing a short balding man- Wormtail.

"Where are your manners, Wormtail? Step aside so I can give our guest a proper greeting..."

Slowly, Wormtail withdraws. Frank's eyes dilate. A flash of green light sears the walls. The walking stick clatters to the floor, handle charred black, weeping smoke. A brittle whistling rises from the shadows of the empty Gardener's Cottage, a tea kettle squealing madly, rising like a scream on the night sky. 

Harry Potter sits bolt upright, a gasp in his throat. He winces and presses his palm to the scar on his forehead. Across the room, Ron lies sleeping. 

"Having a bit of a lie-in, are we?" A smug voice comes.

Harry spins, seeing you, his closest girl friend, grinning from beside his bed. 

"Y/N. When'd you get back?" Harry breathes heavily. You had gone for a morning walk- as you usually do when sleep eludes you.

"Just now. You?" you’re referring as to when he arrived at your family’s burrow.

"Last night." Harry begins to sit up.

"Must have missed you. Though, how could I? With your clumsy arse." you ruffle his hair and Harry groans. 

"Says you." Harry bites back playfully. You grin. 

Hermione comes stalking in loudly and Ron wakes. "Bloody hell!" Ron bolts up and tugs the blanket over his chest.

"Oh, honestly. Come on. Get yourself dressed or we'll miss the whole thing." Hermione claps at Ron. 

You watch as she leaves, then look at Harry. The two of you stare at each other before you whack him upside the head. 

"Blimey, Y/N! What was that for?"

"I dunno, maybe I just wanted to hit your dumb ass." you walk out.

Harry rubs the back of his scalp before turning to Ron, who was still on the verge of sleep. 

"What are you looking at me for?" Ron grumbles. 

"She's your sister. I wonder where she gets it from." Harry throws his feet over the bed. 

"Not bloody likely... more like all that time she spends with Hermione. God awful, the pair of them."

"Don't be dramatic, Ron." Harry shoves him slightly as he gets dressed. 

A string of sleepy silhouettes- Fred, George, Harry, Ron, you, and Hermione- trail a huffing Arthur Weasley. Fred has a battered pair of omnioculars slung over his neck.

"Where is it exactly, where we're going?" Harry turns to you. 

"Dunno. Say, Dad. Where're we going?" you holler forward. 

"Haven't the foggiest. Keep up!" Arthur replies. Harry looks at you expectantly. 

"Why are you looking at me like I know where we're going?" you raise an eyebrow. 

"Why don't you know where we're going?" Harry teases back. 

"Because I've never been to the bloody thing. Merlin, Harry, sometimes you're so daft." you sigh, teasingly, again. Harry eyes her curiously. Daft? Yeah, right. 

A ruddy faced wizard appears atop the crest ahead. 

"Arthur! It's about time, son!" The man shouts in greeting. 

"Sorry, Amos. 'Fraid we got a bit of a sleepy start. This is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works with me at the ministry. And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" Arthur guesses. 

An extremely handsome 17-year old boy shakes hands with Mr. Weasley, whom he towers over. 

"Sir." Cedric confirms. 

"Bloody hell." you sigh. Harry looks to you.

"What? You think he's attractive?" Harry raises an eyebrow.

"How could I not? Look at him." you grin widely. Harry pouts.

"Don't be a baby, you're still adorable." you pinch his cheek and he yelps.

"Bugger off." He swats your hand away.

"Merlin's beard! You're Harry Potter, aren't you? Ced's talked about you, of course. About playing Quidditch against you last year. I told him- Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will: You beat Harry Potter!" Amos grins. Lorelei frowns and steps beside Harry.

"Harry fell of his broom, Dad. I told you, it was an accident-"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you? Best man won. I'm sure Harry'd say the same." Amos grins. Harry frowns and you take his hand in yours. As much as you tease each other, you both know how much you care for each other. 

"We'll see about that this year, won't we?" you challenge with a subtle smirk. Amos's eyebrows furrow before Arthur interjects before his daughter escalates.

"Well, shall we? We don't want to be late." Arthur clears his throat, as he should. 

"Hm? Oh, right. It's over there." Amos points. 

Harry cranes his neck. Lying in the short grass is an old boot. Each person places a finger to the book, arms extended like spokes to a wheel. Harry leans to you and whispers. 

"Can you tell me why we're all standing here pressing our fingers to this manky old boot?" Harry grimaces.

"It isn't just any manky old boot, mate." Fred interjects. 

"It's a Portkey." you finish. 

"A Portkey? What's a-"

SWOOSH! The hill lurches then tilts. The sky begins to spin. A howling wind rises and the sky spins faster and faster and faster still... and becoming a blur... until...

... Harry slams hard onto his feet and- like the others beside him- topples onto his back. Above him, the sky reels dizzily, like a carousel, spinning slowly to a halt as Arthur, Amos, and Cedric cycle into view, windswept but upright. 

"That'll clear your sinuses, eh!" Arthur exclaims. 

"And I thought I hated Floo Powder." Harry groans. A hand comes into his view and he trails his eyes up the arm that connects to you. 

"Come on, then. Up you go." He takes your hand and helps himself to his feet.

"Floo Powder is still my least favorite. Getting covered in soot just to land in a ruddy fireplace." you grimace as you recall your first Floo Powder experience. 

Harry looks past you to the field beyond. Thousands of tents stretch to the edge of a steep cliff, to the deep bowl of a stadium.

"This reminds me of just how many witches and wizards there are sometimes." you appear next to Harry, your knuckles tightening around the straps of your backpack as if you were anxious. Or, you could be excited- Harry can't tell. 

"That's an interesting way to look at it." Harry acknowledges you with the tilt of his head, nudging you. 

"Keep up, we don't want to be left behind." He starts off first, trusting you’ll follow. And you do. 

Harry glances about in fascination as he and the others trudge through the sea of tents. Exotic accents dance upon the air, every nationality in evidence. 

"Well, here we are!" Arthur pulls aside the flap of a small tent. A very small tent. Harry watches curiously as the others pass through. 

"How in Merlin's name are we all meant to fit in that?" Harry gestures lazily to the tent in disappointment. You peer in from his point of view and shrug. 

"Dad's got all sorts of tricks up his sleeve- just you watch." you inhale deeply and disappear inside the tent. Harry draws in the same sort of breath and ducks inside himself. 

Harry looks around and smiles- he's standing in what's equivalent to a 3-bedroom flat. "I love magic." He grins as she sloppily drops his bag on the floor. 

"I'll take that. You're welcome." you sling Harry's and your bag own over your shoulders. Harry rolls his eyes and follows you at your heal. 

"I could've done that myself." Harry says matter-of-factly.

"You wouldn't owe me that way, would you?" you raise an eyebrow at Harry. You know Harry can't raise a single eyebrow and you take every chance that you can get to tease him with your ability. 

"Ah, I knew there was a catch." Harry grins goofily as you place his rucksack on one of the beds on the boys' side of the tent. You turn on your heal to place your own where you and Hermione will be sleeping. 

"We're separated?" Harry blurts unknowingly. The color red creeps onto the apples of his cheeks as you turn at his query. 

"Yes... why do you ask?" you tilt your head as you turn your body to face him. Harry shrugs nonchalantly. 

"Harry..." you gently takes his hand in yours, causing Harry to look down at you with sparkling eyes. 

"I'm sure you'll be alright for a night or two. What do you do at home when I'm not there, hm?" your thumbs stroke the back of his hand as you look up to meet his eyes. 

Harry learned that you were quite skilled at helping him through his nightmares and you were more than happy to lend your skill. Often when you were younger, you helped Ron through rough nights of nightmares after he'd eaten too much for dinner, or too much for dessert. You quickly learned that it was best to not wake him, for he could reel all too quickly back into reality and startle himself. You would bring the blankets back up over his chest to restrain the thrashing, stroke his cheek to maintain the mumbling, and whisper positive affirmations into his ear to send the nightmares into the abyss- replacing it with a nice, pleasant dream. As soon as you saw the smile on Ron's face, you’d known you’d done your job, and would quietly slip out of the room back to the welcoming warmth of your own bed. The nightmares often only came once a night. You wouldn't have to go back after that. 

All of the same techniques seem to work in calming Harry from his own nightmares. Although, you find it best to embrace him in his sleep to restrain thrashing, as the blankets can do next to nothing to restrain him. 

"Dunno." Harry bites the inside of his cheek and breaks eye contact. Your hand moves from his hand to his shoulder and you smile brightly. 

"If you really do need me, come and get me, yeah?" you pat his shoulder thrice and turn on your heal to the girls' side of the tent. Harry's eyes follow you warily as you walk and he sighs shortly. 

Ron claps Harry on his back, startling him as he spins around. 

"Don't worry too much, mate. She's a light sleeper. If she hears you, she'll wake and be at your side before you know it." Ron starts to unpack his rucksack and Harry nods. 

"Yeah... yeah, no, I'll be fine." Harry forces a smile, which Ron returns. 

Harry and the others climb to their seats. Flags of all nations ring the stadium and vendors apparate here and there among the crowd, selling their wares. 

"Get your Quidditch World Cup programs! Only five Sickles!"

Fancy gold handwriting races repeatedly across a giant blackboard: Gladrags Wizardwear- London, Paris, Hogsmead...

"There's the Peruvian Minister for Tourism. And that man there's the African Head of Magical Games and Sports. And- oh lord- there's Ali Bashir. He's been truing to import flying carpets for years. I keep telling him they'll never replace brooms, but he sees a niche market for a family vehicle..."

"Blimey, Dad. How far up are we?" Ron marvels, ignoring his father's rambling about their surroundings. 

"Well, if it rains, you'll be the first to know."

The voice is Lucius Malfoy descending the stairs with Draco. Arthur, tight as a drum, only glares.

"Father and I are in the Minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself." Draco boasts with a smug smirk. 

"Oh, bugger off-" you begin.

"Don't boast, Draco." Lucius jabs his walking cane into Draco's chest. Draco grunts and places his hand over where he was jabbed, looking at his father incredulously. 

You look to Harry with disbelief. 

"Well, that's a first-"

"There's no need with these people." Lucius finishes. 

"Ah." you cut yourself off with a disappointed sigh. Harry chuckles and nudges you. You smile. 

Malfoy's eyes trail nastily over you and Hermione, landing on Harry. 

"Mr. Potter."

As he passes, Harry eyes the walking stick in Lucius Malfoy's grip. A silver serpent encircles his ring finger, inlaid with emerald chips for eyes. 

Harry and the others have settled into the upmost row, where the wind whips coldly. As a fleet of broomsticks jet into view, a roar rises in the crowd. 

"It's the Irish! There's Troy!" Fred exclaims excitedly. 

"And Mullet!"

"And here comes Moran!"

Before Fred can finish, a fleet of dark-clad riders soar over the opposite rim of the stadium. The crowd roars again. 

"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Although your cheeks are smeared in green, (curtesy of your older brothers and Ron) your interest in professional Quidditch have never exceeded your brothers' of course. You do find a small interest in the magic of brooms, but the sport itself has never perked your interest. 

"Here come the Bulgarians!" George points as he leans over the railing. 

"Hm. Who's that?" you squint your eyes at one particularly young player. 

"That, sis, is the best Seeker in the world." George smirks with a smug nudge to your side. You swat him. 

"He flies rather well, doesn't he?" Hermione acknowledges. The boys exchange amused glances. 

"You could say that." Fred stifles his laughter as George nudges him. 

Fred lifts his Omnioculars to his eyes and spins a dial. He dials Krum in closer, then runs the image forwards and backwards.

"What's his name?" you ask as you place your hands on the railing. 

On cue, thousands of fans on the opposite side of the stadium flip large cards bearing the face of the surly looking boy with thick eyebrows. Each one is emblazoned with his name: KRUM.

"Krum?" Hermione guesses.

"Krum." Harry, Ron, Fred, and George assure in unison. 

As the boys look up in admiration, Krum gets past the vast mosaic of his likeness with a nary glance, flying with such breathtaking skill that Harry's jaw fairly falls open. You lean over and press your index finger to his chin, effectively shutting his mouth. 

"You'll catch flies." you smirk as Harry swats your hand from his face. 

"Lay off." he grumbles. 

In the ministry box, Cornelius Fudge rises as Lucius Malfoy and Draco take their seats nearby.

"Good evening! As Minister for Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup! Let the match begin!"

A ball of light busts from Fudge's wand. Harry watches Viktor Krum rocket upward, the crowd roaring as he rises into the glittering night sky, the stadium growing smaller, a glimmering disc of light. 

Harry and the others lie about, unable to sleep as they excitedly re-live the match. 

"Such a big fuss over a sport. All he did was catch a ball." you grumble as you flip to another page of you book from where you lie on your bed, shoes tossed lazily about on the floor next to you as you rhythmically tap your sock-clad feet. 

"An incredibly fast ball that's near impossible to spot!" Harry drapes an Irish flag over your lounging figure and you growl, tearing the flag off in the split second after it made contact with your body. 

"You're infuriating." you wad up the flag best you can and chuck it towards Harry violently, who catches it with ease. 

"Thank you." Harry smiles cheekily. 

"Brilliant Krum, wasn't he? Did you see him put Lynch into the ground with the Wronski Feint? It was positively brutal." Ron rambles on.

"I think you're in love, Ron." you giggle from where you sits, eyes never leaving the spot on your page. 

"Quiet, you." Ron bites back. 

Just then, a chant of voices rise like a lion's roar beyond the tent. Fred grins. 

"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on." Fred ambles confidently towards the flap of the tent before Arthur bursts in urgently and looks around frantically. 

"It's not the Irish."

The others turn to see Arthur standing by the flap peering out. Something in his voice causes their smiles to wither. 

"Get yourselves dressed." Arthur orderes hurriedly. Once he notices the hesitation in everyone else, he barks another other. "Now!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and you scramble out of the tent and stare with disbelief at the hellish tableaux before you. All around you, people run in terror, trampling fires and kicking up sparks. Then you see why:

A teeming clot of black-robed wizards, faces concealed behind hideous masks, are marching across the campsite, laughing drunkenly. Some clutch torches while others point their wands skyward, where four people tumble eerily high above.

"Who are those people? In the air?" your hand shakes as you gesture to the bodies above. 

"Muggles." Arthur answers solemnly. You gulps hard and divert your attention. 

"And the ones on the ground?" 

"Death Eaters." Hermione answers in the same fashion. 

Harry looks puzzled by this, but as Arthur draws his wand, Harry does the same without question. 

"No." you grab his wrist and push his arm back to his side. 

"Get back to the Portkey, all of you. And stick together. Fred, George, you're responsible for Y/N. Y/N, you listen to your brothers." Arthur insists firmly as his eyes scan over the group. You shift uncomfortably and open your mouth to reply when a scream cuts you off from a passing civilian. The scream set everyone on edge and Arthur takes his tone up a notch. 

"Y/N! Did you hear me?!" he scolds intensely. You blink, startled by your father's fierce expression, then nod slowly and surely. Arthur dashes off. 

Fred and George glance at each other and nod. They gently shove you towards Harry and you grunt, spinning around to face them. "Dad said to-"

"We know what Dad said. You're better off looking after Harry and him after you." Fred smiles slightly. 

"Yeah, and with your clumsy ass and your looking-for-trouble attitude, you balance each other out." George finishes curtly. 

"Stay safe!" They disappear into the frantic crowd. 

Harry is the first to move, reaching back and swiping your hand from your side and holds it close to him. "Come on." he beckons, pulling you along through the chaos. 

They streak past blazing tents. You feel your hand become less and less tightly gripped in Harry's fingers before you find it slipping away. Lost in the mob, you falls back. Fred and George flash briefly in the crowd, then vanish. Hermione turns, frantic eyes finding Harry. 

"Y-Y/N was with you- where is she?" Hermione's frantic eyes search the panicking crowd. She sees no glimpse of you. 

"Where is my sister?" Ron steps towards Harry and gazes at him accusingly. Harry looks back and realizes that his hand is in fact empty. He takes immediate action.

Harry dashes on, buffeted back and forth by the raging crowd. He stumbles, falls, struggles to rise, and is trampled again. Bootheels punish the earth all around him. One strikes his temple hard and he collapses. He sees you, frantic, before his vision escapes him.

[rogue-assassinspy]

Chapter 11: First Tri-Wizard Challenge

As I made my way up the stairs to my room I couldn't hold my frustration in any longer. I feel my eyes stinging as I try to hold back my tears. I rush up to my room and sit on the bed closing my eyes as they begin to fall. My head is spinning with an array of mixed emotions and questions. So many questions. I grip my sheets tightly as I replay what happened in the library through my mind, over and over again. I'm angry. Im so fucking angry. Who does he think he is? Talking about my family like we are below him. He has no right, especially talking like that about my dad and his line of work. I hope that slap stings for awhile. I lay down on the bed, exhausted, and drift off to sleep feeling proud of myself keeping that thought at the front of my mind.

The next morning I get dressed, eat a quick breakfast, and head back to the library to finish the paper. I'm not going to bother trying to get his help on this anymore. I don't even want to look at him right now. I worked through my free period and finished just in time to make it to History of Magic.

I rush down the hall and walk through the door to see Draco sitting at our table, his chair turned to face the doorway. He still seems pissed. He does have a small red mark on his face from last night though. I smirk at him. He watches me as I make my way to the front of the class and turn the paper in. When I'm done I make my way to my seat. I can feel his glare burning into my left side as I sit down. "I put your name on the paper too." I say and turn to look at him. "What?" He asks confused. "I put your name on the paper with mine. I don't plan on getting a bad grade in this class because you can't control your temper. You're welcome, by the way." I turn back to face the front. I hear Draco scoff beside me "That's funny coming from the bitch who lost her own temper last night and slapped me across the face." I look back at him, "Call me a bitch one more time and I'll be happy to do it again." He never gets the chance to respond. The professor begins the lecture and thankfully for the rest of class we never get the chance talk again.

The next day was the first day of the Tri-Wizard challenges. Dragons. Hermione and I make our way to the arena. The sky is overcast causing a grey hue of color to encompass the world around us. The cool of winter is settling in. I pull my jacket up to my face trying to hide my nose from the cold wind. "I think I'm going to go see Harry real quick to wish him luck." Hermione says pointing to the tent that stands off to the side of the arena. "I'll meet back up with you in the stands!" She turns and heads off towards the Champions tent. I continue my trek up and make my way to the Gryffindor section. "Althena! I saved you a spot. Where's Hermione?" Ron asks looking around us for her. "She's on her way. Wanted to stop by and wish Harry good luck." I tell him. Ron makes a sour face, "He's gonna need it."

Students and administration from all three schools continue to pile into the arena. Dumbledore makes an announcement that the challenge will begin soon and for everyone to find their spots. Hermione shows up just moments before the first cannon goes off. One by one the contestants make their way out into the arena and face their dragon. "My brother Charlie helped bring these Dragons over from Romania you know." Ron says to me as Viktor Krum exits the arena. "Nice. My dad has worked with Dragons too. Fiesty things." I chuckle.

The announcement for Harry comes over the speakers and slowly he makes his way out into the arena. Harry has to go up against the Hungarian Horntail. This isn't a Dragon I would ever want to come in close proximity to. A few steps out and the Dragon's tail comes slamming down beside of him. Everyone in the stands flinches. The Horntail sets his sights on Harry and roars fire at him. Harry scrambles away and makes it to hill where the egg he has to collect is sitting. Almost to the top, the tail slams into the rock beside of him again. Everyone gasps as the Horntail flings Harry backwards. Harry gets back on his feet and makes it behind a rock just in time for the dragon to breathe more fire in his direction. "YOUR WAND HARRY! YOUR WAND!" Hermione screams out to Harry beside of me. "Accio Firebolt!" Nothing seems to happen and Harry moves again trying to dodge the Dragon. Suddenly Harry's broom comes flying over the top of the stands. He hides behind another rock as the Horntail makes one final attempt to burn him alive. As soon as the Dragon stops, Harry grabs his broom and jumps off flying away. The Horntail lifts off the groun, breaks the chain holding him in the arena, and flies after Harry. Everyone watches in anticipation waiting to see if the Dragon will catch up to him. Harry flies towards the administration tent and out of the arena towards Hogwarts. The Horntail follows breaking the section in half with it's tail along the way. Cheers from the students erupt around the stands. Hermione looks around at everyone and rolls her eyes. Everyone quiets back down and watches the skies for any sign of him. The wait feels like forever. Suddenly there is a small sound coming from the distance. Harry comes flying back into the arena and snatches up the golden egg. The crowd roars in excitement.

As Harry lands and walks back through the opening in the side of the arena he entered through, Dumbledore announces the spot each champion is in. "Harry Potter and Viktor Krum are tied for first. Then Mr. Diggory in second place. And Miss. Delacour in third. Thank you to you all and enjoy the rest of your weekend." He turns and makes his way to the stairs.

Everyone begins piling out of the stadium. I stand and wait for a good amount to clear out. I look out over the arena taking it in. They've already recaptured the Horntail and brought it back into the arena to cage before taking it off, back to Romania. "Althena, are you coming?" Hermione asks. "Yeah! You go ahead. I'll catch up with you at dinner." I smile to her reassuringly as she turns to walk off with Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors. A few minutes pass and I decide it's died down enough to take my exit as well. "Don't think you've gotten out of our little chat, Vodror." Draco whispers in my ear. The sudden heat from his breath causes me to jump. "What's the matter, Vodror? Thought you weren't scared of me?" He moves past me heading down the staircase. Looking back up at me and smiling as he rounds the corner and out of site.

Master list   Chapter 12

[rogueassassinspy]

Chapter 11: First Tri-Wizard Challenge

As I made my way up the stairs to my room I couldn't hold my frustration in any longer. I feel my eyes stinging as I try to hold back my tears. I rush up to my room and sit on the bed closing my eyes as they begin to fall. My head is spinning with an array of mixed emotions and questions. So many questions. I grip my sheets tightly as I replay what happened in the library through my mind, over and over again. I'm angry. Im so fucking angry. Who does he think he is? Talking about my family like we are below him. He has no right, especially talking like that about my dad and his line of work. I hope that slap stings for awhile. I lay down on the bed, exhausted, and drift off to sleep feeling proud of myself keeping that thought at the front of my mind.

The next morning I get dressed, eat a quick breakfast, and head back to the library to finish the paper. I'm not going to bother trying to get his help on this anymore. I don't even want to look at him right now. I worked through my free period and finished just in time to make it to History of Magic.

I rush down the hall and walk through the door to see Draco sitting at our table, his chair turned to face the doorway. He still seems pissed. He does have a small red mark on his face from last night though. I smirk at him. He watches me as I make my way to the front of the class and turn the paper in. When I'm done I make my way to my seat. I can feel his glare burning into my left side as I sit down. "I put your name on the paper too." I say and turn to look at him. "What?" He asks confused. "I put your name on the paper with mine. I don't plan on getting a bad grade in this class because you can't control your temper. You're welcome, by the way." I turn back to face the front. I hear Draco scoff beside me "That's funny coming from the bitch who lost her own temper last night and slapped me across the face." I look back at him, "Call me a bitch one more time and I'll be happy to do it again." He never gets the chance to respond. The professor begins the lecture and thankfully for the rest of class we never get the chance talk again.

The next day was the first day of the Tri-Wizard challenges. Dragons. Hermione and I make our way to the arena. The sky is overcast causing a grey hue of color to encompass the world around us. The cool of winter is settling in. I pull my jacket up to my face trying to hide my nose from the cold wind. "I think I'm going to go see Harry real quick to wish him luck." Hermione says pointing to the tent that stands off to the side of the arena. "I'll meet back up with you in the stands!" She turns and heads off towards the Champions tent. I continue my trek up and make my way to the Gryffindor section. "Althena! I saved you a spot. Where's Hermione?" Ron asks looking around us for her. "She's on her way. Wanted to stop by and wish Harry good luck." I tell him. Ron makes a sour face, "He's gonna need it."

Students and administration from all three schools continue to pile into the arena. Dumbledore makes an announcement that the challenge will begin soon and for everyone to find their spots. Hermione shows up just moments before the first cannon goes off. One by one the contestants make their way out into the arena and face their dragon. "My brother Charlie helped bring these Dragons over from Romania you know." Ron says to me as Viktor Krum exits the arena. "Nice. My dad has worked with Dragons too. Fiesty things." I chuckle.

The announcement for Harry comes over the speakers and slowly he makes his way out into the arena. Harry has to go up against the Hungarian Horntail. This isn't a Dragon I would ever want to come in close proximity to. A few steps out and the Dragon's tail comes slamming down beside of him. Everyone in the stands flinches. The Horntail sets his sights on Harry and roars fire at him. Harry scrambles away and makes it to the hill where the egg he has to collect is sitting. Almost to the top, the tail slams into the rock beside of him again. Everyone gasps as the Horntail flings Harry backwards. Harry gets back on his feet and makes it behind a rock just in time for the dragon to breathe more fire in his direction. "YOUR WAND HARRY! YOUR WAND!" Hermione screams out to Harry beside of me. "Accio Firebolt!" Nothing seems to happen and Harry moves again trying to dodge the Dragon. Suddenly Harry's broom comes flying over the top of the stands. He hides behind another rock as the Horntail makes one final attempt to burn him alive. As soon as the Dragon stops, Harry grabs his broom and jumps off flying away. The Horntail lifts off the ground, breaks the chain holding him in the arena, and flies after Harry. Everyone watches in anticipation waiting to see if the Dragon will catch up to him. Harry flies towards the administration tent and out of the arena towards Hogwarts. The Horntail follows breaking the section in half with it's tail along the way. Cheers from the students erupt around the stands. Hermione looks around at everyone and rolls her eyes. Everyone quiets back down and watches the skies for any sign of him. The wait feels like forever. Suddenly there is a small sound coming from the distance. Harry comes flying back into the arena and snatches up the golden egg. The crowd roars in excitement.

As Harry lands and walks back through the opening in the side of the arena he entered through, Dumbledore announces the spot each champion is in. "Harry Potter and Viktor Krum are tied for first. Then Mr. Diggory in second place. And Miss. Delacour in third. Thank you to you all and enjoy the rest of your weekend." He turns and makes his way to the stairs.

Everyone begins piling out of the stadium. I stand and wait for a good amount to clear out. I look out over the arena taking it in. They've already recaptured the Horntail and brought it back into the arena to cage before taking it off, back to Romania. "Althena, are you coming?" Hermione asks. "Yeah! You go ahead. I'll catch up with you at dinner." I smile to her reassuringly as she turns to walk off with Ron and the rest of the Gryffindors. A few minutes pass and I decide it's died down enough to take my exit as well. "Don't think you've gotten out of our little chat, Vodror." Draco whispers in my ear. The sudden heat from his breath causes me to jump. "What's the matter, Vodror? Thought you weren't scared of me?" He moves past me heading down the staircase. Looking back up at me and smiling as he rounds the corner and out of site.

Chapter 12         Masterlist

[hillnerd]

Au headcanon of Ron Weasley and Hermes Granger

Ended up being a bit over 7k words, this one! And hey, just in time for pride month! :)  Romione but m/m! :)

 This has Hermes struggling to come to terms with his sexuality. Again, as with the f/f Romione story, I was inspired a lot by my experiences when I was younger. Also has a guest appearance by Ace!Charlie Weasley :) This is set in the 90s, so things aren’t quite as smooth as they would be if this story was set in the present day. People weren’t as sensitive to the needs of the LGBTQIA+ community then, weren’t as equipped with the vocab or knowing what to say etc. It was before my time, but I want to be as true to that as I can.

Trigger warnings: character being outted, homophobia, internalized homophobia

rated PG-13 for cursing and homophobia

RON AND HERMES

BEFORE HOGWARTS

Hermes Granger had never been a popular child growing up. He wasn’t sure if it was because his nose was always in a book, or if his nose was in a book because they were much more friendly company than the children around him. He was always seen as odd, and he supposed they were right. He wasn’t quite like the other boys his age. He preferred reading to sports, preferred the teachers to the other children, and he inexplicably had strange things happen around him.

Owls and cats seemed to listen to him. He could make any electronic short circuit when he got frustrated. He’d wish for things to happen– impossible poetic vengeful things, as we all are wont to do when someone is being particularly cruel or unjust– and a lot of the time they would happen. 

Philip Pickering, the biggest bully in their class, had taken Hermes’s diorama and poured paint all up inside it, ruining all the hard work he’d put in. Hermes wished someone would pour paint in something Philip liked, and then a horrible accident happened in art class- a whole wall of paint cans tipped over and covered Philip, and only Philip, head to toe in paint. His Air Jordans were ruined, along with everything else he was wearing, and even all the homework in his rucksack. Hermes was delighted, but also a bit afraid of how his darker wishes could come true. From that moment on he did his best to keep such wishes from coming true, and did an alright job of it.

When he found out he was a wizard it all sort of fell into place. He was odd because he was magical, but he’d find his place soon enough once surrounded by other wizards and witches at Hogwarts!

–

FIRST YEAR

It took time to find his place. At first he found his bookish ways and penchant for telling people what to do were just as disliked there as they’d been at his Muggle school. He’d been quite hopeful of making a friendship with two boys in particular- Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Harry was an important person in so many books, and that made him a fascinating person to meet and analyze. And then there was Ron- he wasn’t sure why he liked to look at him so much, but there was something different about him that make Hermes want to be his friend.

A few months of spats, and a culmination of taking down a mountain troll,  cemented his friendships with the other boys, and Hermes finally had close friends for the first time in his life. Not just close; Best friends. Wonderful friends, who made him smile every day, and gave him something to fight for that meant much more than just grades.

–

SECOND YEAR

Meeting Harry and Dumbledore, two people from books who had done great things, had been something special, but it paled in comparison to meeting a real life author. Hermes had only met a few authors in his life before, all Muggle at his local library, but Gilderoy Lockhart? He was something very very different. He was a hero. He had done great feats and had written about his exploits in many volumes. He also was very handsome, which Hermes hadn’t initially noticed, but after seeing him just a few times, it was hard to not notice it when so many of the girls were sighing over him. He felt a thrill when Professor Lockhart gave him another five points for answering another question right.

Hermes had never really noticed men being handsome like this before, and when Ron noted how many of the girls were taken with Lockhart, it finally clicked into place. Hermes was looking at Lockhart like the girls were…. Well, maybe he was? He wasn’t sure… I mean, who was sure of anything at thirteen? It felt like he was too young to know. He’d never looked at girls at anyone that way, boy or girl. He could tell if someone was good looking or not, of course- but that wasn’t quite the same as that feeling of having a crush on someone.

He’d always been different from everyone else, but this? Oh he couldn’t be that way. It was too different, probably even for the Wizarding world. Hermes hadn’t read about any gay wizards. He’d never read about gay anyone, really, other than Oscar Wilde, and things hadn’t exactly gone well for that Author.

Fleetingly he thought about talking about it with Harry and Ron- but the idea that they would look at him different, or get freaked out and not want to share a dorm with him? It was too much to bear.

No. He’d have to sit on it and tell no one. It’s not like it mattered, really. He was just a kid- and no one was expected to do much dating before they were grown. It’s not like he liked anyone he could actually date anyway. And this was probably just an anomaly of some sort…

–

THIRD YEAR

“You gonna eat that?”

Hermes looked up from the seventh study guide he’d made himself to see Ron pointing at his plate.

“You can have it, I’m busy,” Hemes grunted. Why had he signed up for so many classes? It was absolute madness. He could barely keep up with what day of the week it was anymore, and had so many different exams coming up, and he just knew he’d fail everything, and have to go back home and be alone forever and–

“No, mate. You need to eat up. You’ve barely eaten anything and the meal’s gonna vanish in like ten minutes,” Ron said, pushing his plate over the parchment Hermes had strewn about him.

“No, I need to study! I have boat-loads of work to do, and no matter what I can’t seem to make myself the time to do it all properly, and I just know I’ll be expelled and my parents will never forgive me for disappointing them!”

“Look,” said Ron, gently stopping Hermes’s hands from gathering papers. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and this mad schedule of yours, but you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Hermes looked up into Ron’s earnest face, and the freckled hands holding his own in place, and felt himself begin to blush.

“I… Erm-” Hermes said, flustered in a way he hadn’t ever been with Ron before. “Yes… Yes I need energy… yes…. But I also need to study.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“You’re the smartest person I know, so you’ll be brilliant no matter what- but you can’t study without any energy to do it, right?”

Hermes nodded, his mind buzzing and blank as Ron peered at him.

“How ‘bout this. You finish your plate, and I quiz you while you eat?”

“Alright… I suppose I can do that.”

Ron gave a lopsided smile in return, and the nervous flush worked its way down Hermes’s spine again. He really did need to eat something, because his stomach was starting to lurch and he felt a bit dizzy as Ron grinned at him.

—-

FOURTH YEAR

Hermes had never been much for Quidditch, but the World Quidditch Cup would be an excellent way to learn about other Magical communities, and also it would give Hermes the opportunity to spend time at the Weasley household that summer. 

Mr Weasley had scored them some great seats at the top of the stadium, and Hermes couldn’t deny it was rather thrilling to be at such a large stadium like this.

“And now,” Ludo Bagman announced to the stadium, “without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”

“I wonder what they brought,” said Mrs Weasley, before leaning forward and polishing his glasses in a flury. “Aaah! Veela!”

“What are veel–?” Harry began to ask, but he trailed off as he looked down at the field. Hermes began to tell Harry exactly what Veela were, but stopped himself when he realized his speech was falling on deaf ears. Harry was staring down at the creatures on the field with a rapturous hungry look that made Hermes roll his eyes. He was about to nudge Ron so they could tease their friend, but strangely Ron was just as taken with the the Veela as Harry. In fact it felt like all the men in the box were looking similarly glassy eyed as they stared down at the women on the field. As the women began to dance the whole stadium’s population of men went mad. It felt like every male was looking on a bit agog, or starting to do something particularly embarrassing to get the Veelas’s attention. All of them except for Hermes.

Harry looked like he was about to fling himself from the box before Hermes stopped him, and Ron was pulled back from a dive by Charlie. The Veela were ushered off the field, and another mascot show of Leprechauns was brought out onto the field- but Hermes paid them no mind. He had a chill running through him. Why hadn’t the Veela affected him?

They’d made Harry and everyone else go mad… Ron too… But not Hermes.

As everyone gleefully scrambled for gold that was raining upon them, Hermes excused himself to the loo.

Since the match was beginning in moments, the room was blissfully empty, and Hermes had a moment to put water on his face and gather himself in total privacy.

“You alright, Hermes?”

He turned about to see Charlie Weasley leaning against the door frame.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just a bit overheated up there.”

“Yeah… energetic lot they are. Either they’re all going mad over gold that’ll disappear in an hour, or Veela are throwing ‘em into a frenzy,” Charlie said with a nod.

Hermes nodded unable to think of anything to say.

“Sure you’re alright? You started looking a bit pale after the Veela left.”

“Well…” Hermes let out, mind reeling for an answer. “Well, Harry and Ron nearly threw themselves from the top of the stadium box. It was quite frightening.”

“We stopped ‘em before making too big of arses of themselves,” Charlie said with a smile. “Even if we hadn’t, there are spells to keep them from falling off, so they weren’t in any real danger.”

“You!” Hermes exclaimed, practically pointing at Charlie, and feeling almost giddy relief. “You weren’t trying to jump out the box. You were able to keep your head like I did!” 

“Yeah… I’m not affected by Veela Magic.”

“So Veela… They don’t affect everyone the same then?” Hermes said, a smile on his face. He wasn’t broken or something. It was normal!

“That’s right...”

“Why is that?”

“Well, er…” Charlie said, a hand to the nape of his neck the same way Ron did when he was worried about something. “Veela magic only affects men who are attracted to women.” 

The cold feeling in Hermes’s gut was back tenfold. Hermes wanted the floor to swallow him up. He felt like crying.

“I… I’m-- I’m… I thought… So that means…” Hermes let out nonsensically.

“Doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to mean,” Charlie said, coming close and putting a comforting hand on Hermes’s shoulder.  “In my case I’m not really attracted to, well, anyone, so I’m spared the whole Veela horndog nonsense. And you… You’re young and don’t have to have it all figured out right this moment. You can figure out who you are, and who you like, or don’t like, at your own pace. You’ve got plenty of time.”

Hermes swiped at his eyes, feeling tears trying to make their way down his face.

“Did- did anyone else notice?” Hermes murmured as he gave a sniff.

“Notice what? You not reacting? I don’t think so. They were all much more intent on making spectacles of themselves for the Veelas,” Charlie said with a smile.

“I’m already so different from everyone… Muggleborn and a-a bookworm… I don’t want this too!”

“I know…” Charlie said with a sympathetic look. “Want me to escort you back to the tent and make an excuse that you’re ill? Or hang here a bit then go back to the game? Whatever you need, we’ll do.”

Hermes thought a moment before deciding to go back to the game. Charlie did a spell to make Hermes’s face not be so obviously swollen from tears (’Handy spell that! Don’t want the other dragon wranglers to see you cry over a baby dragon being hatched!’)  and they decided the excuse for their absence would be they decided to use the loo before the game got going and the crowds got so thick.

As Hermes slid into his seat, Ron handed over his omnioculars for him to use.

“Recorded their entrances for you. Blimey, Hermes, I know you don’t care much for Quidditch, but this is one of the best parts!” he smiled, showing him the cool moves the different players did as they burst into the stadium and describing each one in detail. “And check out Krum! He’s the absolute best player in the world! And practically our age! We could know him. Can you imagine?”

Hermes played along with Ron’s enthusiasm for the game, and found it quickly became real. Ron didn’t seem to have noticed anything, and Hermes felt his body ease with relief. If anyone would notice something was amok with him, it’d be Ron. He felt a warm comfort as his friend put their heads together so he could describe each of the players for Hermes as they looked into the omnioculars. Ron was always so thoughtful that way… And his hair smelled something divine.

—-

FIFTH YEAR

“So… I’m gay.”

“I know.”

“What?” Hermes let out, staring agog at Ginny. “How did you know?”

“Well, I didn’t know-know, but I was pretty certain,” she replied with a shrug, leaning back on the dusty fourposter they sat on. They hadn’t gotten around to cleaning this Grimmauld room yet, they were so busy with their conversation. “I mean, Ron and Harry each have noticed their fair share of girls by now, between Veelas, and Cho… And you never have seemed to notice any girls.”

Ginny and Hermes had been a touch closer since attending the Yule Ball together the previous year, and his fourth year at Hogwarts had made him take the time to figure out who he was, and who he liked, just as Charlie had said he would.

Who was he?  Hermes Granger. Muggleborn. Gay. Who did he like? men, it seemed. And one in particular. Hermes kept trying to quiet the crush he’d been growing, but he could no longer deny the feelings that had been growing for Ron since third year.

“I haven’t told anyone else… Well, Charlie knows I’m not straight because of that whole Veela incident. And Viktor knows since, well… We snogged and all…”

“Hah, yeah, I’d say that’d lead to him knowing!” Ginny snorted with a good-natured grin. “Are you planning on telling Harry and Ron?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Hermes fretted, biting his lower lip. “It could change a lot of things…”

“Want me to feel it out for you? Not you being gay, but gay people in general? Just make sure you feel extra safe?”

“I don’t know that you need to do that. It’’s one thing for it to be gay people in theory, but quite another for it to be your friend and dormmate, so I’m not sure how much security I’d get with it. Thank you for the offer though.”

“Of course!” said Ginny before giving Hermes a hug. “Thank you so much for trusting me with this. I’m sure it will all go fine, though! I mean, it’s Harry and Ron!”

“Yes, I’m sure….”

“If they give you crap I’ll hex them.”

“I can hex them myself, but thank you for the offer.”

“Hex who?” came Ron’s voice from the hall coming into the bedroom.

“Snape, “ Ginny coolly lied. “How long you been out there.”

“Just escaped, haven’t I?” he said sitting on the bed beside Hermes. He was a bit covered in dust and sweaty. “Oh! This is a brilliant way to escape Mum. She won’t want to have to huff it up five flights.”

“She can just Apparate, can’t she?” Hermes suggested.

“She doesn’t like Apparition all that much, so hopefully she won’t. I just want to hang out with my mate, and I guess you too Ginny.”

“Thanks much, Ron,” Ginny said with a two fingered salute he returned. “I’ll go see what the twins are up to.”

“Maybe she’ll lay off a bit when Harry gets here?”

“She didn’t when I got here,” Hermes noted.

“Oh right.” Ron laid back on the bed and put his arms behind his head. He’d grown even taller over the summer, and laid out as he was Hermes found it hard to think straight. “Well, at least for now we get some time just you and me. We need to make sure to keep a habit of it this year. I miss it when we don’t have that. ”

“You do?”

“‘Course I do,” Ron said, giving a punch to Hermes’s arm that hurt a bit, but made him smile. “I know this isn’t much of a vacation for you, but I’m glad you came.”

Hermes couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, really. Even though Grimmauld place was dusty, dark and highly disturbing, it was worth sacrificing any trip with his parents to spend more time with Ron. And Harry too, of course.

–

SIXTH YEAR

Hermes had been feeling rather giddy that evening. He had successfully asked Ron to the Slug Club Christmas Party earlier that week, and he’d been thoroughly blissed out ever since. Sure, it wasn’t really a date. He couldn’t very well say it was one, of course- Ron was straight and Hermes hadn’t told anyone but Ginny he was gay…  But this certainly felt like a date and he could pretend, dammit. Ron looked happy to be his guest for the party, and Hermes was looking forward to seeing him in the dress robes the twins had gotten him.

“Hermes?”

He looked up from his homework to see a teary eyed Ginny approaching him in the common room. Dean had come in not long before, but had made a beeline for their dormitory.

“Are you alright?” he said standing from his chair, hoping Dean hadn’t done something to hurt her.

“I need to talk to you in private.”

“Okay…” He quickly gathered his work into his bookbag and followed her down the cooridor.

“Hermes. I’m… You’ll never forgive me, and you shouldn’t… But I can’t let you walk into this without knowing. I’m… I’m so so so sorry!”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I… I got into a fight with Ron. He and Harry walked in on me and Dean snogging, and he was doing his usual overprotective brother act and trying to shame me for kissing my effing boyfriend… And I was popping off- and then I… I told him he was the only one who thought it was disgusting because he had no experience, then I said Harry had snogged Cho and… I mentioned. Oh fuck–”

“What?”

“I said you had snogged Viktor! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking and now they know. I’m so so so sorry!”

Hermes couldn’t breath.

“I’m so sorry, I said it and then not a second later I realized what it meant for me to have said it. I pointed my wand at them and told them not to tell anyone- I don’t know how to obliviate someone safely or I would. I’m so so sorry, Hermes. I didn’t mean to tell your secret.”

“Did… What did they say?”

“Not much. After I told them not to tell anyone, Harry said they wouldn’t, and Ron nodded- and then I ran straight here to tell you what happened.”

Hermes quietly leaned against the wall and slid to the ground, numb.

“No one else knows. I’m so sorry. Can I do anything?”

Hermes shook his head. Nothing could be done. They knew. Harry and Ron knew. He was out.

Hermes waited up as late as he could in the Common Room before slipping into his four poster. He set a tempus spell to wake him so he could avoid Harry and Ron that morning as well. He got up before them, went to the kitchens to eat, and then went straight back to his four poster. He didn’t have it in him to go to class, and instead spent most of the day getting ahead on homework, conjuring a flock of birds, and napping.  

“Hermes?” he heard Harry’s voice outside his fourposter. The room was quite dark. He must have slept a good portion of the day away.  He couldn’t answer, for fear that his voice would wobble and give out.

“We have sandwiches,” came Ron’s voice.

Hermes had to admit, breakfast was at least twelve hours away and his stomach was growling. He opened the curtains to see his best friends.

“Sandwich?” asked Harry, giving Ron a nudge that prompted him to proffer a napkin full of what must have been sandwiches. Hermes gave a shrug and took the proffered bundle of sandwiches.

“You missed class today,” said Harry.

“Yes I did.”

“Mind if we sit?”

Hermes shook his head. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, while Ron stood by looking for a place to put his hands, finally settling on his pockets.

“So…” Hermes began, deciding it best not to delay the inevitable. “Ginny told you that… That-”

“That you snogged Viktor Krum,” Ron finished for him, frowning at the floor.

“Yes… that,” Hermes said with a rough swallow.

“So does that mean you’re gay then? Or…” Harry trailed off.

Hermes slowly nodded.

“How’d you know?” Ron asked, sharply looking Hermes in the eye for the first time.

“Oh, erm…” said Hermes, thinking back to the Veelas he’d seen a few years prior. “I suppose at the Quidditch World Cup.”

“Oh… When you… Was it seeing Krum?” Ron frowned, while Harry nervously looked between the two of them.

Hermes was about to protest it was the Veela, but Harry interrupted with a–

“And that’s fine!” Harry said, looking like he wanted the conversation to end quickly, as he normally did whenever anyone talked about anything remotely personal. “You know it doesn’t matter that you’re… you’re gay or whatever, right? Not to us.”

They looked to Ron, who nodded as well.

“I promise, this won’t affect our friendship. Things between us all are completely platonic,” Hermes said, almost desperate to make eye contact with Ron especially. “You mean so much to me, and I just… I don’t know what’d I’d do if you stopped being my friends…”

He felt himself wanting to cry and swiped at his eyes before he could properly start.

“We’re still your friends, you daft bugger,” Ron said, before putting a hand to his mouth. “Can I say that? I’m sorry.”

“As long as we can call you that, I think I’ll let it slide” Hermes said with a smile.

“Oh like you ever swear,” Ron teased back. Peace seemed to have been restored, but Ron still looked a bit down. “Well… I’m gonna go off for a bit…”

Ron left the room without another word.

“Do you think he’s really ok with this?” Hermes asked Harry.

“Sandwiches are from him,” Harry said rather vaguely. This was as close to talking about feelings he and Harry had ever gotten, and neither were comfortable with that prospect. Harry continued to look at Hermes in a plaintive sort of way. “Er, well…. Maybe Ginny would explain it better.”

“Ginny’s done more than enough ‘explaining’ thank you very much,” Hermes said crossing his arms. “Why don’t you join Ron. I’ll be awful company.”

“You’ll come to class tomorrow, though, right?”

“I suppose I must. Thank Ron for the sandwiches.”

—-

The next morning Hermes woke early again, but instead of running away he waited for Ron and Harry in the common room. A feeling of deep relaxation had seeped into him. He was reminded of when he’d try to bring all the groceries into the house in one go for his parents- the bags cutting into his fingers as he precariously tried to balance them and not drop anything, and the strange elation he felt upon reached the kitchen island without dropping anything.

The triumphant unencumbered feeling was quashed rather quickly as he made his way to breakfast with Harry and Ron. Harry seemed his normal self, but Ron was in a dark mood no one could escape. He sat at breakfast stabbing his potatoes with much more violence than any starchy vegetable required, was being oddly icy and indifferent with Hermes during class, and even went to Quidditch practice snarling at everyone as if they too were errant potatoes that needed a lesson taught to them.

By the morning of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin Hermes had enough and was barely able to be in Ron’s grouchy presence. Upon walking into the Great Hall, though, Hermes couldn’t resist checking to make sure Ron was doing alright with his pre-game jitters. As usual Ron’s nerves were shot, until Harry seemingly had put luck potion into the redhead’s juice. Hermes couldn’t believe Harry would stoop so low, and all through the game Hermes glowered as Ron played amazingly well, culminating in a fantastic Gryffindor victory. The whole of Gryffindor was so ecstatic they decided to throw a victory party.

Hermes couldn’t be happy for them, knowing Harry and Ron had cheated, but when he went to call them out Harry revealed there was no potion used at all. It was merely a trick to get Ron into a better mindset for the game.

“You added Felix Felixis to Ron’s juice this morning, that’s why he saved everything!” Ron said imitating Hermes’s uppish tone well. “See! I can save goals without help. Might not be an International Quidditch star, but I can play well.”

“I never said you couldn’t– Ron, You thought you’ve been given it too!“

Ron strode past Hermes without acknowledging him, broomstick on his wide shoulders.

“Er, shall… shall we go up to the party then?” Harry asked.

“You go! I’m sick of Ron at the moment,” he said storming out of the changing rooms. Why was Ron acting this way? They’d been getting on just fine, hadn’t they? Ron didn’t mind that Hermes was gay, did he? Even if he did, why would he be in a such a foul mood with everyone else?

Hermes went to the common room, where the party was in full swing. Alcohol was definitely involved creating a scene Hermes had little interest in. He was about to go up to his dorm room when he spotted Ron, wrapped in Lavender Brown’s arms, the two snogging as if it were the end of the world. A sickening sensation of falling came over Hermes, though he still stood on his feet quite steadily. Heart in his throat, and too many bodies between him and his dorm room, Hermes fled from the Common room to a small classroom down the hall.

Hermes had always known there was no chance between him and Ron. Ron liked Veela. He liked Madame Rosmerta. And now, he liked Lavender Brown. Buxom beautiful blonde women, that’s what Ron liked; Not bookish, brown, blokes. Not Hermes.

Hermes conjured some bird around him, hoping route spellwork might calm his flayed nerves, but any plans to gather himself together were quickly quashed when the door behind him burst open.

Ron came in laughing, pulling Lavender by the hand. “Oh,” he said, drawing up short at the sight of Hermes.

“Oops!” said Lavender as she backed out of the room giggling.

The door swung shut behind her. There was a horrible, swelling, billowing silence. Hermes stared at Ron, who refused to look at him, but said with an of mixture of bravado and awkwardness, “Hi… Didn’t see you at the party!”

Hermes didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but before he could think he shouted ‘Oppugno!’ and the birds he’d conjured rained down upon Ron like a hail of bullets, scratching and pecking at him as he yelped and covered his face with his hands.

Hermes didn’t care if boys shouldn’t cry. He ran down the hall to find another room and sobbed, unable to stop himself.

—

The next day the whole school was talking about it. Lavender had told Parvati, who had told Susan and Padma, who had told other people- and finally the whole school knew.

Hermes was jealous of Lavender. Hermes was gay for Ron.

He’d been straight up asked if he was gay by a Ravenclaw, and instead of lying he said yes. He hadn’t meant to, but he was so used to answering questions first and accurately that he’d shocked himself when he said it. 

Now everyone’s eyes were on him as he went through the halls the next few weeks. 

In class Ron ignored him, while Lavender pawed at him. Harry doggedly looked ahead and tried to act like nothing was happening, or glared at onlookers, but it was a bit hard for Hermes to ignore the whispers. Perhaps Harry was better at it as he was so used to rumors flying about him. Hermes was used to being ignored, and the sudden lack of anonymity was jarring.

Ginny made a point of walking with Hermes, and got as many friends as she could to do the same. Much of Gryffindor had rallied around him for meals, and it was a good thing too, because the rumor mill was getting particularly vicious one night at dinner.

“I mean are any of us actually surprised he’s a flaming homosexual?” said Zacharias Smith rather loudly at the Hufflepuff table. “He’s always been a bit of a limp-wristed bookworm. Don’t drop your soap around him! I heard he’s tried to go down on like all the male professors to get such good grades.”

“That’s it! I’m gonna remove your balls, Smith!” Ginny growled, bursting up from the table in a fury. Harry had similarly raised his wand, as well as a few other students.

“Don’t!” Hermes let out, but behind them there was a blur  of someone who kept moving forward, and Smith was on the ground in moments his face bleeding.

“You shut your fucking mouth, Smith! You shut your fucking mouth!” Ron was growling as he continued to pummel the blonde. Smith didn’t take it lying completely down, and rolled Ron’s head into the bench seat as he tried to punch and kick back.

“Mr Weasley! Mr Smith! What are you doing? Stop fighting this instant!” came the cry of Professor McGonagall, as she and a few other teachers flew from the Head Table. Ron punched the Hufflepuff a few more times until Harry and Neville pulled him off.

“‘E attaged me for no reason a’ all!” Smith lied as he wiped the blood from his mouth.

“That’s not true, professor, he was saying absolutely atrocious things about Hermes!” Lavender said, and many other students were nodding alongside her from the tables.

“I’d do it again!” Ron spat, wiping at the blood dripping down from his eyebrow.

“Yes, I’m sure you would,” McGonagall said, and Hermes was certain he saw a small smirk cross her thin mouth.

“Well, twenty points from both houses,” Sprout said.

“Bud he jumbt me!” Smith complained.

“Yes, that’s why we’re only taking the twenty from our house for your bullying, Smith,” Sprout said. “Best get you both to the hospital wing.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital wing,” Ron said, swiping at his eyebrow.

“I’ll accompany them to my office for detention assignments as well as the hospital,” said McGonagall.

Hermes and Harry went to follow, but McGonagall stopped them with a quick gesture.

Just as many students were looking at Hermes as before, but he felt impervious to the stares. The only eyes that mattered were Ron’s as he glanced back at Hermes while being escorted from the Great Hall.

Later that night Harry and Hermes waited for Ron to come back, and when it was quite late he came through the portrait hole, a black eye forming.

“Oh no!” Hermes let out. “I thought you were going to go to the hospital wing.”

“I did. Fight like a Muggle get healed like a Muggle. Should’ve hexed his stupid mouth off,” Ron muttered sitting next to Hermes on the settee.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did!” Ron said, looking to Harry for back up.

Harry fervently nodded in agreement. “Of course he did!”

“Well, at least let me heal you up. I’ll get some dittany.”

“I’ll get it,” Harry said, going up the stairs, leaving Ron and Hermes behind.

“You can’t go about fighting everyone. You two are ridiculous,” Hermes said, sitting back in his chair. 

“We’re not! People can’t talk that way about you, Hermes!” Ron said, his large fists balled so tight his bruised knuckles had gone white. Hermes took one of Ron’s hand to inspect the knuckles.

“I’m used to bullying because of what I am already,” he hummed. “This isn’t all that different really.”

“They didn’t try to say you don’t earn your grades because you’re Muggleborn, though. They didn’t try to make you out as some kind of… I don’t even know what word there is for it. It was sick.”

“Well, please don’t punch the next person who says something. You could get hurt more seriously than you already did,” Hermes said, thumb grazing near Ron’s cut in his eyebrow. Ron shut his eyes a moment and the two of them sat, just listening to each other’s breaths  “Thank you, though. For-- for standing up for me like that. I’m glad you… you still care.”

“Are you mad? Of course I care!” Ron said with a roll of his eyes.

“Well… After everything, you’ve been so mad at me, and then I attacked you, and now the rumors about me…”

“Which rumors?” Ron asked, expression closed, all except his eyes that pierced through any composure Hermes had.

“Well, the one really. The one about how I’m…” Hermes had to gather his courage to finish his sentence, “I’m jealous of Lavender.”

Ron’s breath seemed to stop, and so did Hermes’s.

“People are saying I’m jealous of Lavender and that’s why I attacked you with birds,” Hermes said, feeling his face begin to heat up. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done it.”

“Why did you then?”

“What?”

“Why’d you attack me with the birds if you weren’t jealous.”

“Well… The truth is…” Hermes couldn’t think of a good answer for that that would pass true muster. Ron was looking at him so fervently he decided lying made little sense. Even if it came to nothing, Hermes couldn’t keep up his facade with Ron a moment longer. He’d been hiding enough of himself. “The truth is, I am jealous.”

Ron’s eyebrows disappeared into his fringe, and his mouth almost hung open. “You said... You said it was platonic between us.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermes said quickly before pressing on. “I’ve… I’ve fancied you for ages, but I know you don’t feel the same. That’s why I’ve never said anything til now. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry… I know you’re not… like me, and this doesn’t change anything in our friendship and–”

Ron’s lips met his, and Hermes froze in surprise. It was the tenderest most beautiful kiss he could have imagined. It ended all too soon though, as Harry’s footsteps echoed into the room, and they wrenched apart right before he rounded the corner.

He looked between his friends in a curious manner, before placing the dittany and a flannel between them.

“I’m a bit tired. Going off to Bedfordshire,” he let out, wincing at himself before leaving.

They were both red in the face and nervously began to laugh.

“I guess I better fix you up, then,” said Hermes, taking the flannel and applying  dittany to Ron’s wounds. Ron gave a small hiss as the wound closed up in his eyebrow.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem,” said Hermes, stopping up the bottle again. “I suppose we ought to go to bed then?”

“Not yet, no,” Ron said, leaning over to gently hold Hermes’s chin and bring him in for another kiss. Hermes gratefully returned it, and was surprised at how quickly it became heated, burning through him, and growing a deep hunger within him that had nothing to do with food. As they came up for a bit more air, Ron let out snort.

“What’s so funny?”

“How daft the two of us are. You jealous over Lavender, and me over Krum.”

“Viktor? That was two years ago!”

“Well I didn’t know that! I only found out a month ago. He’s an international Quidditch player, and you snogged him. Plus, he was your ‘sexual awakening’ or whatever.”

“He was not!”

“You said you figured out you were gay at the Quidditch World Cup.”

“That was because I had no interest in the Veela. Not because of Viktor. I didn’t even know Viktor then.”

“Doesn’t stop you from thinking he’s good looking,” Ron said with a shrug, putting a hand on his neck.

“Oh ho! Who had a sexual awakening over Krum now?” Hermes laughed, delighted at the way Ron’s ears flamed up. “Frankly I was more distracted by you at the World Cup as you shared your omnioculars with me…”

“You were?” Ron smiled broadly.

“Yes,” Hermes smiled back, before it faltered. “So… I said I fancy you, but you haven’t actually said anything like that to me…”

“I was just kissing you!”

“You’ve been doing plenty of kissing lately,” Hermes said archly.

“Okay, that’s fair enough…” Ron said putting his head down. “I just… I was feeling down, and thought maybe it’d be easier to get over you if I tried things out with Lavender… She was there and believed in me… You were into famous Quidditch players, and said it was platonic between us- while she fancied me, of all people. I hadn’t a clue you might like me back. ”

“I do like you. Quite a lot, actually.”

“And I’ve fancied you for ages. Never thought it could actually happen though. Was bloody brilliant kissing you, finally.”

“It was bloody brilliant,” Hermes grinned.

“Let’s make a habit of it,” Ron said leaning in for another kiss.

“Are we… Are we going to be a couple then?” Hermes whispered as Ron’s mouth made its way down the column of his neck.

“Yeah,” Ron whispered back against his skin. “

“Publicly?”

“Is there another way to be a couple?” Ron asked, perplexed.

Hermes leaned back to stare at Ron, and take him all in. “You’re bloody brilliant, you are.”

“That’s my line,” Ron replied, before quieting Hermes with a kiss.

—-

just to be clear, Lavender wasn’t maliciously trying to out Hermes- this was the 90s and people were less aware of how to treat things like this then. 

So hope you guys liked it! If you did, let me know in the tags or comments! :D