#like. could they have done ace viktor? yeah! it could have worked!

[t4tmetalsonic]

Yes. I'm aroace myself.

You will also notice that nowhere did I say in this post that he wasn't ace. I literally just said he fucks. However no I don't think he's ace and that's not out of aphobia

in light of recent events

[obsidianarchives]

To All The Wizards: The Party

Dean kept his word. They spent the rest of the evening by the fire in the common room. Hermione was able to finish reading and responding to her letters. She wished Viktor good luck in his match against Madrid and thanked her mother for taking the time to send the package she had requested. They passed the majority of the evening in relative silence. He sat at the other end of the couch next to her feet, sketching. Crookshanks was curled in his lap, clearly still unhappy with Hermione. Meanwhile, she began knitting a new winter hat for Winky.

After they had finished their game of wizard’s chess, Ron had gone to bed and Harry came over from the other end of the common room and sank into the armchair close to the fire.

“He’s going to cost us the Cup,” he said in dismay.

“You’ll just have to work with him over the break. I’m sure he was just having an off day,” she said, not looking up from her work.

“It won’t do any good. His flying is fine when it’s just the two of us.”

“Yeah, I thought he had improved since I first started practicing with you lot. I wonder what has him so agitated.” Dean cast a sidelong glance at Hermione, which she ignored.

Harry groaned and rubbed his face in frustration. “I thought we had fixed him after the first match, too.”

Yes, Harry had tried to fix it by tricking Ron into thinking he had taken an illegal substance before the match. “If Ron is going to get any better he’s going to have to do it on his own,” she said curtly.

“Oh you’re one to talk!” Harry said with a laugh.

Choosing to not dignify that with a response, she resumed her knitting. Dean looked between the two of them but seemed to think it was best to say nothing. She instead decided to switch the subject. “Did you manage to ask Luna to Professor Slughorn’s party tomorrow?”

“Yes, she seems excited to be going as friends.” He sounded relieved.

“Good. I don’t know why you didn’t ask sooner. Always last minute.” He rolled his eyes, ignoring the dig.

“Anyway, I’m off to bed.” As he stood, he gave Dean a significant look before saying, “Don’t stay up too late.”

After he had left them, Dean snorted. “Subtle. Guess he wants to be sure I’m not taking advantage of his best friend.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. She wrinkled her nose in response. “Maybe Harry is getting jealous.”

She rolled her eyes at this. He had often teased her about having The Boy Who Lived within her grasp, but falling for Ron instead. “He doesn’t care what I do. He’s just in a mood. It was Ron who was always the overprotective one.”

“You really have never had any interest in Harry? It’s always been Ron? Harry is The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, even! Don’t most girls like him?”

She sighed, exasperated with the conversation already. “Most girls aren’t also his best friend. It was only ever Ron.”

They drifted into silence as Hermione put the finishing touches on Winky’s hat. Dean had abandoned his sketch, staring into the dying fire while he scratched behind Crookshanks ears, lost in thought. The dim light from the fire cast a warm glow on his dark skin. They seemed to be the only ones remaining in the common room. Glancing at the clock, Hermione saw it was nearing midnight. The time had passed so quickly. She began to gather her things.

“Is it true then, what everyone says, about him being the Chosen One?” Dean was still sitting next to her but his voice seemed far away. His gaze was transfixed on the crackling log.

She hesitated to answer. Part of her, for some inexplicable reason, wanted to tell him the truth. Maybe then, the invisible weight she had been carrying since the summer would finally lift from her chest. He turned away from the fire to look at her. His coffee colored eyes were serious, searching for the answer in her face.

No, she couldn’t tell him. As comfortable as she felt around him, none of this was real. They weren’t actually friends, much less a couple. And even if any of this was real, this secret was far too dangerous to ever speak of outside the her, Harry, and Ron.

“Even if he was, you know I wouldn’t tell you.”

He studied her for a moment longer before a look of acceptance came over him. He nodded and got up. Before she could stop herself, she reached out and grabbed him. Surprised, he looked down at her hand clasped around his wrist, then to her.

“I, uh — sorry,” she said, dropping his wrist. “I just wanted to say thanks for keeping your promise to sit by the fire with me. I know that sort of thing isn’t really in the contract — well anyway. I appreciate it.”

He laughed a dry laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Man, Granger. You sure like bringing up that contract.” He shook his head again, and chuckled to himself. Looking back to her he said, “Goodnight, Hermione. See you in the morning.”

Five minutes later, as she headed up to the girl’s dormitory, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had upset him in their conversation.You’re just imagining things. You’re not really his girlfriend, he doesn’t care enough to be upset with you. She took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the dormitory, praying sleep would come quickly to put her mind at ease.

—

It was a disaster. Professor Slughorn’s party invitation had clearly specified “fetching dress.” She had owled her mother weeks ago, asking her to send her usual silver holiday dress to wear underneath her old periwinkle dress robes that she kept packed in her trunk. She should have opened the package sooner.

“What should I do, Crookshanks?”

Crookshanks turned to look at her lazily from her pillow on which he was currently snoozing. Today, he was less put out with her than he had been recently. This, she supposed, was because of the double helping of treats she had given him this morning.

On her bed laid a burgundy velvet dress. That Hermione could tell, it was very fashionable with its sweetheart neckline, fitted sleeves, and circle skirt. There was no doubt her mother had outdone herself, apparently excited with the opportunity to spoil her daughter. The dress was beautiful.

Her cape-sleeved periwinkle dress robes laid next to the dress. There was no way she could wear them in their current state together. It would look ridiculous. Perhaps, she could go without the dress robes. Dean surely wouldn’t care, being Muggle-born himself. But there would be very important wizards in attendance, would it be considered rude to show up in purely Muggle attire?

The door to the dormitory suddenly opened. Hermione turned to see Lavender walk in and flop down on her bed.

“How was Divination?” Hermione asked politely as she looked over the dress again, running her fingers over the velvety material.

Lavender gave a dreamy sigh. “It was wonderful. We worked on our cartomancy today. My card reading was so fascinating. First, Parvati revealed the Ace of Cups, which duh of course. Ron’s and my relationship is still very new, so the meaning was clear. I was a little worried when she flipped to reveal the Fool. Parvati insisted it was in reverse, but Trelawney’s cards are very faded. I’m sure it was upright...are you even listening?”

Hermione wasn’t. She didn’t want to hear about Divination and she certainly didn’t want to hear about the good fortune Parvati predicted for her friend’s budding relationship. She was still contemplating her best dress option.

“Ugh, OK I’ll bite. What is it? Are you having trouble picking out jewelry?” Lavender slid off her bed and walked across the room. “Yikes.”

“I know,” Hermione said sighing. She wasn’t the most fashionable of girls, but she knew this was a mess. “My mum sent a new dress for me to wear. She’s a Muggle and didn’t realize it would need to go with my dress robes.”

She shouldn’t be embarrassed. It wasn’t her mother’s fault that she was a Muggle and didn’t know about these things. Her palms began to sweat a little anyway. She was taking Dean Thomas, arguably one of the most handsome boys at Hogwarts, to a Christmas party, and she was going to look like she got dressed in the dark.

“Let’s not panic. Where’re your shoes?” Hermione pointed to what were once a modest pair of black pumps at the foot of her bed. They were now transfigured to a deep burgundy shade to compliment her dress. She explained to Lavender what she had done. “Well that’s it then! Just transfigure the dress robes.” She looked very proud at having come up with this solution.

“I can’t,” Hermione said. She held up the dress robe, letting her feel the chiffon-like material. “The more delicate or complex the material of an object, the more difficult it is to transfigure. Transfiguring these from a light blue to a deep burgundy is such a drastic change it might ruin them...“ she trailed off and began to think, if only I just had another set to practice on. But duplicating them might compromise the integrity of the fabric.

Lavender let out a sigh, as if she were quite bored. “Then don’t transfigure them into burgundy.”

Hermione mouth dropped slightly. That was it. “Lav! Thank you. Why hadn’t I thought of that?”

She shrugged and then eyed Hermione’s hair, which she had opted to wear out. Hermione had spent the previous evening deep conditioning it, not wanting to take any chance on it frizzing up before the event.

“Do you want to borrow my Sleekeazy’s?” Lavender asked, still eying her curls a little warily. Lavender didn’t need Sleekeazy’s. Her hair did have a kink to it, but hung in a looser pattern. Yet she still slicked her hair down with the stuff overnight from time to time.

Subconsciously, Hermione’s hand moved to her hair to try and smooth down the back. “Erm, no. No thanks, Lavender,” she said, suddenly feeling unsure of herself.

Lavender gave her a look that said clearly said “suit yourself” before heading to the door. “I better go. I told Parvati I’d only be a minute and I promised to meet her for dinner, for a girls night. Good luck tonight!”

Hermione tried to shake the thoughts about her hair. One problem at a time, she told herself, turning her attention away from where Lavender had been standing a moment ago to her dress robes.

—

Everything had come together quite nicely in the end. Transfiguring the dress robes into something complimentary to her dress was inspired. The now cream-colored robes hung delicately around her frame.

As for her hair, she opted to pull part of it back in a braid, letting the rest hang down rather than wearing her curls out completely like she had planned. Lavender probably would have preferred if she had broken down and brought out the Sleekeazy’s, but she felt more comfortable in her curls styled in what she hoped was a formal take of the basic half-up half-down style.

As she emerged from the girl’s dormitory she could see Dean waiting with his back to her. He was wearing what looked like a new set of dress robes. Upon approaching, she could see that the robes were made of an expensive black jacquard material. Hermione cleared her throat.

He turned around and gaped at her. “Hermione, you look...” He trailed off before finally muttering, “Wow.”

“Erm, thanks, I think.” She realized she was shaking and a little hot. Panicking, she looked for something else to say. She couldn’t sweat off the minimal makeup she had managed to put on. She had never mastered the process of applying the stuff, and no one in her dormitory knew how to apply Muggle makeup even if she had asked for help. She made a mental note to look into wizarding makeup options in future. Maybe they would offer better shade ranges.

“You look amazing. Really.” Dean said, seeming to come back to himself. Giving her a crooked grin he continued, “Should we wait for Harry?”

“No, I think he’s gone to meet Luna.”

He nodded in understanding and held his arm out, motioning to the portrait hole. “Shall we be off, then?”

Wordlessly she nodded, and without thinking about it, took his arm as they headed to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.

The castle was mostly quiet as they walked through it. Most students had retired early to prepare for tomorrow’s train journey back for the break. A few of the festive, candlelit suits of armor inclined their helmets in greeting as they passed. As they approached Professor Slughorn’s office, there was a dull din of noise that grew in volume and pitch. They stopped before entering.

“Hey, relax,” Dean said, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. He was looking kindly at her with those warm brown eyes.

With a faint horror she realized that her palms were, in fact, clammy. Why should she be nervous? It had been upon her insistence that he accompany her to this party. They were just going through the motions. Calm and steady. “Right, yeah. I’m good.”

She led the way into the office and slightly gasped. It was so lovely she couldn’t help but be impressed. The office had been decorated to appear as if they were in a festive party tent with drapings of gold, crimson, and emerald. The faint smell of cinnamon and clove hung in the air and a warm flickering glow filled the room. Hermione’s eyes trailed around the room over the dozens of heads looking for the source. Was it enchanted candles charmed to burn a specific color? Her eyes landed on an antiqued golden chandelier that was hanging in the center of the room. She wrinkled her nose.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“Fairies,” she said with a tinge of disgust.

“In the chandelier?”

“Yes. Honestly, they may enjoy being on display, but caging them in glass orbs is inhumane.” Before she could finish her rant about how wizards were constantly taking advantage of the predispositions of other magical creatures, she spotted Harry and Luna.

“I’ll go see if I can find us something to drink. See you over there?” he asked. Hermione nodded.

She approached the duo and Hermione stifled a giggle. They were an interesting looking couple. Harry was wearing his bottle green dress robes that brought out his green eyes. They fit very nicely, maybe better than they had in their fourth year. She wondered if he had sent them to Mrs. Weasley for alterations. Next to him stood, Luna. Her robes were still in the style of Luna Lovegood but Hermione had to admit the way the silver spangled robes reflected the light was quite pretty.

“Hermione! You’ve come just in time. Luna was just telling me her interesting theory about the Minister of Magic,” Harry said, looking at her significantly. Then, taking in her appearance he said, “You look really nice.”

“Yes, your eyes have gone quite twinkly in this lighting,” Luna said in her usual lilting voice.

Not sure what to say in response to Luna as she often felt when talking to her, she thanked them both.

“Have you seen? There are a couple of Daily Prophet reporters here.”

“What? Did you speak with them?” Hermione asked, concerned.

“Yeah, but I don’t think the bloke was much interested in uncovering the deep secrets about ‘The Chosen One’.” She swatted at him. They glanced at Luna, who was busy inspecting one of the potted copper-leaved Niffler’s Fancies scattered throughout the tent. “Don’t worry. I don’t think he was much interested in being here at all.”

“You still need to be careful, Harry.”

At that moment Dean returned with two silver goblets full of mead. Hermione took hers gratefully. He shook Harry’s hand before turning to Luna.

“You look very festive!” Hermione could tell by the way the smile met his eyes that he wasn’t making fun of Luna. He actually liked her robes.

“Thank you, Dean!” Luna said with a bright smile. “This is a very nice party. They’ve scattered these plants everywhere. They are very lucky, you know,” she said, indicating the Niffler’s Fancy she had earlier been inspecting.

Hermione’s eyes trailed to Harry who was looking between her and Dean. She wondered if it was working. Did they look like a couple? She took a sip of her mead to appear unaffected. It was spiced, her favorite.

Dean was speaking with Luna about her knowledge on the plant when he trailed off. Something at the entryway had caught his attention. They all turned to look in that direction. Hermione saw Neville’s blond head first. She felt her stomach clench as her eyes landed on Ginny. She was wearing floor-length emerald robes that contrasted with her crimson hair in a way that was dazzling in the glowing light. A slight smile graced her freckled features as her bright blue eyes scanned the crowd.

Both Dean and Harry were staring at her, in awe. A latent thought of Fleur passed through Hermione’s mind. Of course, Ginny was no veela, but she certainly had Harry and Dean under her spell. Glancing at Luna, she felt relieved that she at least didn’t seem to be aware of what was happening. Frustrated with both boys’ rudeness to their dates, she nudged Dean. He looked at her in surprise, as if he had forgotten she was there at all. She looked at him severely, trying to communicate that he still had a date he was being incredibly rude to.

Taking the moment to excuse themselves, Hermione pulled Dean away from Harry. It would be bad if Dean realized Harry’s feelings for Ginny and vice versa.

“It’s rude to come to a party with a date and spend the night staring at someone else’s date!” Hermione said in a terse whisper.

He grimaced, looking chastised. “Sorry, Hermione. It’s just hard. I think I can handle being around her, but then she’ll hit me with these sneak attacks and I just...”  he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Don’t worry. I got it. It won’t happen again.”

His grinned at her, trying to look reassuring. She would let it go for now, it wasn’t like she was faring any better with Ron.

The night continued as they made their way around party. They passed an enchanted quartet of string instruments accompanying the witch who was singing what Hermione vaguely recognized as wizarding Christmas carols.

It wasn’t as difficult playing into their roles when they were wandering the party by themselves. Dean was the perfect gentleman. Every now and again, he would place his hand on her hip when they were standing next to each other. Whenever Ginny was looking across the tent in their direction, he would bring her hand up to kiss it as if she were the most lovely person in the room. He would give her a slight wink that she knew he meant as encouragement, but the whole thing made her want to roll her eyes.

She spent spare moments when she was alone, while Dean was off grabbing her another goblet of mead or glass of water, comparing herself with Ginny. She couldn’t help it, after the entrance she had made. It wasn’t just Harry and Dean, many eyes followed Ginny in admiration. Her silky sheet of red hair gleamed in the light and was easy to spot throughout the tent. Hermione moved her hand to her head to make sure the ends of her hair were still behaving and not frizzing up. How could anyone believe that someone would date her over someone like Ginny? How could this plan be working?

They spoke to various members of the Slug Club and Dean surreptitiously avoided the mistletoe planted throughout. Blaise Zabini had even nodded to them in passing at one point. Eventually, they were accosted by Cormac McLaggen. Visibly, he acted like his normal overly-charming self, but it quickly became clear he was only interested in hounding Dean for information on how he got chosen as an alternate for the Quidditch team and how he had managed to woo Hermione Granger. This was all spoken as if she wasn’t standing right there.

They had only just escaped when Professor Slughorn’s booming voice found them.

“Ms. Granger, my dear! I have someone I would like you to meet!”

Glancing at each other, they both shrugged and made their way over to where Professor Slughorn, a tall haggard looking man and — to Hermione’s dismay — Ginny and Neville stood.

“Ciaran, I present to you Hogwarts’ brightest student, Hermione Granger and her date—“

“Dean Thomas, sir,” Dean quipped.

“Yes, Dean Thomas,” Professor Slughorn continued, unfazed, “This is Ciaran Gates. He is the leading Muggle Correspondent and newest editor at the Daily Prophet. While not as hard-hitting of a subject as you might expect from one of my pupils, he is on the fast track to becoming editor-in-chief.”

A few how-do-you-dos followed. Dean shook Gates’ hand before placing it back around Hermione’s waist. Hermione tried to pay no mind to Ginny’s glances in their direction. When Hermione did try to make eye contact with her, her attention was firmly locked on Professor Slughorn. Sighing, she smiled at Neville who grinned back. He looked happy just to be included.

“I thought you two should hit it off, both of you having an interest in Muggle culture,” Professor Slughorn said encouragingly.

Ciaran Gates didn’t seem to be interested at all in talking to a teenage Hogwarts student, or to be there at all. Perhaps, he was here as a favor to Professor Slughorn. To any of this, Professor Slughorn seemed oblivious.

“So, Dean Thomas, you’re a Muggle-born I presume?” Professor Slughorn asked. Everyone’s attention turned to Dean, except for Ciaran Gates, who seemed to be searching for any excuse he could find to leave the conversation.

“Yes, sir. Well, so far as I know. My dad left when I was a baby, so it’s hard to say.”

“Ah yes. Gets more and more common all the time...” Hermione and Dean glanced at each other, incredulous at what he seemed to be insinuating. Professor Slughorn took no notice of this, shaking his head before continuing, “And how have you come to win the heart of the brightest witch Hogwarts has seen in the last decade?”

She winced at his compliment. It was alright when her friends joked about her being the “brightest witch” of whatever, but when people said this in earnest it made her uncomfortable, unsure how to respond.

Everyone was now looking at Dean. Neville was nodding, excited to hear the tale. However, Ginny looked at her with shrewd eyes, testing her. Everything she and Dean had discussed preparing for this moment flew from her mind. Calm and steady, she reminded herself. She looked away from Ginny and politely at Dean.

“Well, I suppose my charms and good looks wouldn’t sell it?” Dean said with a laugh. He seemed wholly nonplussed by Ginny’s presence when just an hour previously he hadn’t been able to hold himself together.

Professor Slughorn also laughed. “No m’boy, Hermione Granger is made of different stuff than most girls your age. Those paltry tricks won’t work on the likes of her. Tell me, Ms. Granger, have you met your intellectual equal, then?”

Hermione laughed nervously, feeling the pressure to respond graciously. “I’m not sure about all of that, Professor.” The questions were not only impertinent but nerve-wracking. Ginny seemed very interested in her answer. Dean was counting on her to lie effectively. “We both are the only Gryffindors in our year taking N.E.W.T.s level Arithmancy, so we began studying together. Most people don’t like my pacing when we study so I generally do it alone. He’s been up to the task, though. We just kind of continued from there,” she finished, lamely.

“Oh delightful! Young love can be so promising. Ms. Granger’s mind is uncanny. She’ll be the Minister of Magic one day if she continues on her path. You are very lucky, Mr. Thomas.” With that, Professor Slughorn threw back his goblet, draining the rest of its contents. “Come along Ciaran, I’m sure Mr. Potter is about here somewhere.”

Dean pulled her closer into him, beaming. She was relieved. She had done a good job, everyone was actually buying it.

“I didn’t realize Arithmancy required so much studying,” Ginny said, finally addressing them. Her eyes flashed. Neville seemed to be oblivious to the danger in her voice, but Hermione could see the slight tinge of red creeping up her neck.

If he had noticed this, Dean didn’t seem perturbed. Rubbing his hand along her side he said, “Yeah these N.E.W.T.s level courses are no joke. Who knows where I’d be without Hermione?”

The tension was cut abruptly by Mr. Filch, who barged loudly into the center of the room, dragging Malfoy behind him. The music stopped. Hermione’s eyes searched the room for Harry. He was standing with Professor Snape and Professor Slughorn as Mr. Filch and Malfoy approached. A feeling of unease over came her. She generally got that sort of feeling when one of the boys was about to do something reckless. She didn’t have time to worry about that, she reminded herself. Seeing their opportunity to escape, she muttered something to Neville, excusing themselves and pulling Dean away.

After Malfoy’s gatecrash, the party began to slowly dwindle. Hermione and Dean decided it was probably time for them to take their leave, as well. They both had to be up in the morning to finish packing and catch the train home for the holidays. They bid Luna goodnight, but didn’t find Harry with her. She now felt sure he was up to something.

“You want to walk back with us?” Dean asked Luna.

“No, I’m alright. I think I’ll wait here for Harry.”

On their way back, Dean inquired as to whether Hermione was hungry because she hadn’t eaten anything at the party. She tried to explain to Dean the importance of house-elf rights. The only food on offer at the party had been on silver platters carried by the Hogwarts house-elves. To her surprise, he listened and seemed to agree with her. Before she could press further and tell him about S.P.E.W., they made it back to the common room.

It was mostly empty, with a few pockets of students huddled around the fire.

“You did really well tonight, Granger,” Dean said in a low tone so that they wouldn’t be overheard.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She wanted to do well at this, not only for Dean, but for herself. If she was going to take the time to do something, she wanted to do it right.

“Absolutely. Did you see how Gin was looking at us?”

“Yes,” she said with a sudden groan. “I don’t know, Dean. Who is going to believe you are actually interested in me? I saw the way you were looking at her, tonight. I mean, Merlin, who didn’t notice her?”

“Are we really going to have this conversation?” he asked exasperatedly. “Do you honestly think you’re not pretty?”

“I’m not searching for compliments! I’m just saying it doesn’t seem believable to me, logically speaking, that you’ve gone from dating Ginny who’s popular, has beautiful hair, and likes sports, to me, who is none of those things.”

He rolled his eyes. “You really are something else. Look, Gin’s gorgeous. But you’ve got more confidence. You don’t put all this effort into it. I told you how amazing you looked tonight, and I meant it.”

She avoided his gaze, feeling her face heat up once again. She really wasn’t looking for his pity or compliments. It wasn’t embarrassment that was making her blush, though. It was the fact that he wasn’t saying it out of pity. He actually was being genuine. She still thought he was off his rocker, though.

“Can we get back to celebrating this victory now?”

She glanced up at him. His eyebrows were raised expectantly. “Alright, yeah.”

He held his hand up for a high-five. “Operation ‘Secret Lovers’ is in full swing!”

“Ew gross, no. We’re not calling it that.” She wrinkled her nose but slapped his hand and laughed anyway.

“Fair enough.”

Hermione was in good spirits as she walked up the stairs to the dormitory. Maybe her being in a relationship with Dean Thomas wasn’t so unbelievable.

To Be Continued…

[hillnerd]

The Wonderful Won Won

Being a teenager is difficult at best- but throw in a dose of flirtations, insecurity and snogs- well that makes it even worse. Ron is torn about his emotions regarding Hermione. For now he throws himself into Lavender.

Rating PG-13      ff.net    A03

Trigger warnings: cursing, sexual content

Thank you to @diva-gonzo for the betaing! :) You are the best. 

Chapter word count- 6615    

First chapter is NOT ace safe, but after that it’s all fairly tame.

Chapter 1- Won Won and Lav Lav

The castle was abuzz with yuletide excitement, and great swathes of mistletoe and garlands littered every corridor. Ron put his hands deeper into his pockets, willing the festive air to leave him alone. The Fat Lady’s portrait was empty, making him have to wait as a group of caroling ghosts floated by.

“I’m back!” panted the Fat Lady, looking a bit tipsy. “Don’t look so down! It’s Christmas after all!”

“Baubles,” said Ron with little yuletide spirit, before dragging himself up the stairs to his dorm. No one was there, and he took a moment to slam the door with gusto a few times and kick his trunk. He swore as his foot pulsed in pain.

He didn’t know why he felt so angry, really. What was Hermione’s love-life to him? He had a girlfriend now. Hermione had attacked him with birds, and had been treating him like dragon dung for weeks. Why should he care at all? She was trying to get at him by announcing she’d go to Slughorn’s party with McLaggen, and Ron would be be damned if he gave her the satisfaction of a reaction as she dangled her evening plans about.

Going to go out with Cormac McLaggen? Well have a merry old time with that horror of a date, Hermione!

Maybe that was just Hermione’s modus operandi when it came to dating. Go out with unpleasant oversized moronic Quidditch players. After all, she had snogged Viktor Krum— Krum! Of all people!— and had never told Ron. 

He supposed that was what made him more hurt than anything else. They shared everything, he and Hermione. There had never been a lie between them in all their years of friendship. At least, he had thought so. That wasn’t the case, though, was it?  She had continually lied to him about Krum. Yeah yeah, he got right tetchy when Krum came up, but that was only because Hermione was perfect and someone like Krum couldn’t appreciate her and treat her how she deserved. Hermione was of age now, but that pervert had been sniffing around her since she was fourteen. Krum was dancing with her, saving her from lakes and all sorts of things, but wouldn’t even take the time to say her name right.

Ron would dance with her, if she’d let him. He would save her any chance he could, and from real threats, not some stupid task. Ron was already there for her in every capacity he could be. Krum couldn’t make her laugh. Krum didn’t make her take the time to eat when she’d been studying. Krum didn’t sit beside her hospital bed all those times. Krum didn’t go on adventures with her. Krum didn’t defend her from bullies. Krum didn’t do anything with her; yet he had gotten to share something with her that made Ron’s stomach plummet. He’d gotten to kiss the smartest, kindest, most beautiful girl who ever existed. She’d given herself to him.

Ron curled into his pillow, feeling a ridiculous urge to cry. He wouldn’t, of course. He wasn’t some home-sick first year. Ron had noticed his fair share of girls, but he’d never been serious about any of them, except Hermione. He wasn’t sure when it had clicked into place how much she meant to him, it had come on so gradually. It was always Hermione. Her wild hair, her pert looks, her almond eyes that could flash in annoyance one moment then twinkle with laughter the next.

Was it stupid that on some level he’d been ‘saving himself’ for her? Of course it was stupid. After all, Hermione hadn’t saved her kisses for him. Hell, she barely managed to give him an ounce of appreciation most of the time. It was Hermione’s way to be critical, and he liked her as she was, but somewhere along the line she kept being critical of Ron, and started praising Harry.

She began telling Harry how smart, brave, fanciable, and tall he was. She even blushed and stammered when she found out Harry had praised her in front of Slughorn. Ron told her how brilliant she was all the time —told others! — yet she never blushed so prettily for him. On top of it all, she never showed faith in him.

When he’d been chosen as Prefect, most people were shocked, seeming to think Dumbledore would never find him capable enough for that particular responsibility. Hermione’s reaction stung the most, though. She looked so happy as she ran up to Harry thinking he was Prefect, saying how sure she was he would be chosen. She couldn’t even spit out a reply to the news that Ron was named Prefect instead. He always felt useless, but Hermione being unable to say one good thing he’d ever done hurt him so deeply he thought he’d be sick. Hermione was never unable to come up with an answer on the spot, but the second it came to defending Ron, she couldn’t say anything. She thought that little of him. Well, everyone felt that way about him. he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that Hermione thought him useless as well. So he swallowed it down like he did everything else.

Then the incident with Felix Felicis had been the last straw for him with her. She was so certain that he performing well in Quidditch was impossible. She was so certain he needed a potion to save everything. She’d missed his triumphant victory last year, and this year she didn’t believe his current triumph was earned. She couldn't fathom one single thought of him performing well. No, she blamed it on cheating, on something other than his hard work.  She really did think nothing of him.

She had to know he was mad about her, given how smart she was, but she continued to value everyone more than him. She gave all those bloody hints she liked him, but kept taking him for granted and--

Well that was fine. She could think whatever she liked. He was tired of trying to get her to notice him, to love him how he loved her.

Wait a moment, Love? Ok, mate, that’s a bit much. Let’s say fancy.

He fancied her. So much. And she just kept being so critical, dismissive, and secretive. There were moments he thought maybe she really did notice him, and was interested in him like he was her. She gave him a kiss on his cheek last year, and he’d been blissed out for almost twenty minutes afterwards, like a poxy eight year old. Then she invited him to Slughorn’s party this year. She didn’t say it was a date, but it felt like it might be. That potential had buoyed hope in Ron for weeks.

He had hoped Hermione was shyly flirting with him, as he sometimes managed to do with her. They were just two slow-moving inexperienced teens. Then one night in a corridor all that hope had all been dashed. Ginny screamed at him Hermione had already snogged Viktor Krum two whole years ago. His pride began to sting. She had said there was nothing between her and Krum — that they were just friends. She had lied. All this slow-moving flirting or whatever she’d been doing with Ron… it was all one big lie. Hermione didn’t take it slow with people she actually fancied. She snogged them within a year of even knowing they exist. She just was toying with Ron as some backup boyfriend until someone better came along.

Well, he was done. He was going to stop fancying Hermione Granger. He was going to continue to go out with Lavender, who obviously liked him. She praised him and seemed to value him more in the past month and a half than Hermione ever had in Ron’s acquaintance with her. Hermione was angry with him over it —perhaps jealous, and he was horribly gratified by it.

Have a taste of it, Hermione. That’s what it feels like. I’m not going to wait around for you anymore.

She wanted him to quarantine himself off to never get any attention from anyone, while she had been off snogging Krum. She wanted to continue belittling him while he uselessly pined after her. Well, fat chance of that happening any more, Hermione!  He wasn’t going to be her backup boyfriend and punching bag anymore. He was going to get over Hermione Granger. He wanted her to be jealous; feel what he was going through. He felt an amazing sense of vindication, but it was tempered by an unpleasant pit in his stomach that seemed to grow each day.

Instead of remaining friends through the jealousy, like Ron had with her - she was shutting him out completely. He missed her. They’d had their spats where they didn’t talk a few times, but that hadn’t been the case for three years. Now he didn’t know how to have a day where he wasn’t eating breakfast at her side, sharing small smiles in class, getting her to punch his arm and roll her eyes, and confide in her around the fireplace when Harry was off with Dumbledore.

He missed her, but also was livid with her, and he was just so torn between the two emotions he didn’t know what to do except keep kissing Lavender.

“Ron, you up?” he heard Harry ask from outside the curtains to his bed.

“Yeah,” he said, hoping he sounded nonchalant. He opened the curtains to see Harry in his dress-robes.

“Do I look like a git?” Harry asked, patting at his messy hair.

“You always look like a git.”

“Cheers,” said Harry, before throwing a pillow at Ron’s head. Ron deflected it back at him, throwing Harry’s glasses eschew. “Well, I’m off to Slughorn’s then. Want me to swipe some food for you?”

“Only if there’s alcohol in it,” Ron said with a smile. “See you after.”

Harry gave him a wave and left. With Harry gone, Ron gave a long sigh. He opened his drawer to see if he had some sweets leftover from his last Hogsmeade trip. There were only questionable colored Bertie Bott’s jelly beans left, so he decided to forgo the possible taste of vomit or bogies, and instead drag his arse down to the common room to play himself in chess.

The common room was fairly empty, with the majority of students either packing or out around the castle for one last hurrah before break. A small platoon were also going to Slughorn’s party. Ron sat next to the common room fire feeling miserable. He was supposed to be at that party with Hermione. Last time she’d been on a date with someone else, she had looked stunning, and she was even prettier now. He didn’t have the heart to see her with another man again, looking even more perfect than usual. He had purposefully shut himself in his four poster long enough to avoid the sight of her with McLaggen.

Sitting alone at the fireplace felt so odd. Usually he and Hermione would be sitting next to each other playing chess, or laughing about something, or even just studying. He’d give his left nut to just study with her. Stupid besotted git.

Who knows. Maybe if he stayed here long enough, Hermione would come up and sit there, realizing that some Slug Club party with McLaggen wasn’t worth it.. Even if she didn’t say anything, just having her next to him would be enough.

He felt a small tap on his shoulder and a smile broke out on his face. Maybe he had willed it to be so! He turned, and had to force his smile to stay in place.

“Hi Ron,” Lavender breathed out.

“Hi Lav,” he said. Keep that smile on, Weasley.

She was not the girl he'd been fantasizing about, but he did his best to look pleased to see her. He should be pleased to see his girlfriend after all, right? She was wearing a sparkly jumper that clung to her in an attractive way, and a pair of jeans that did just as much for her figure as the jumper.

“Want to go for a walk?”

“Er, yeah, sure.” Ron put his chessboard away, and hid it under his chair with a notice-me-not charm. He doubted anyone wanted to steal away his chess set, but at the same time, he couldn’t afford a new one should it go missing.

Lavender grabbed him by the hand and he dutifully followed her out the portrait and down the hall. As they walked, he thought of Hermione. Earlier that day her shoulders so tight they were up to her ears. She needed to relax a bit. She never took care of herself properly. She was always so busy taking care of Harry, the elves and her studies, that she left little energy for herself. If he didn’t make her sit and eat, he was certain she’d waste away in the library, blowing away like a puff of dust and turning into another ghost who haunted the charms section. Maybe he could get Harry to do something to intervene. Normally Ron would do it himself, but she still hated him. Every day she made it clear how dead to her he was, acidly glaring at him and ignoring him as if he’d done something wrong. And he was supposed to be mad at her, so that wouldn’t do to suddenly start looking after her as he always did.

Lavender suddenly came to stop and he almost ran into her. He had not taken notice of their path, and until she closed the door he didn’t even realize they were in a room he’d never seen before. It was a long abandoned study nook, barely bigger than a good size broom closet. It housed nothing except a desk, broken chair, and small window. Lavender took their wands and put them on the wobbly chair, and started kissing him, as she always did.

Their snogging got better each time, no longer as wet and odd as it had been the first few weeks they’d been at it. Her hands were getting more bold each time too. It felt nice when she ran her hands through his hair, but it felt even better when she pressed herself tight against him and let her hands travel up and down his back, sometimes even grabbing his bum. She practically climbed him when they snogged, so he was more concentrated on keeping them balanced than actually kissing her half the time.

In here, though, there was a desk. She seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she pushed him back until he was perched on the edge of the desk. She stood between his legs, kissing him deeply, her tongue acting like a niffler after some gold. He almost laughed as he inexplicably thought of the dentistry practices Hermione had told him about. Maybe Lavender was looking for cavities! As she continued to writhe against him, he felt his lower body begin to take notice. 

Bugger!

He tried to move his hips away, so maybe she wouldn’t feel his growing problem, but she seemed determined to keep him where he was. Her surprisingly forceful hands were able to be in so many places at once, it felt a bit like being attacked by the giant squid. She easily weaved her hands about, at one moment in his hair, then his back, and finally under the hem of his jumper and tee-shirt making them ride up his waist. He definitely couldn’t do the same sort of movements she did. It took all the effort in the world to move his hands around her and not accidentally throw her to the ground or something equally embarrassing.

One of his hands was on her shoulder started to drift downwards a bit. She pushed him further back on the desk and got on his lap, moving her hips against him in a sexy way he’d never imagined anyone would for him. He had to grab her thigh to prevent her from falling to the floor a few times. She guided his lips to her neck, so he obediently began to kiss and nip at her there, one hand at her back to keep her from sliding off; the other hand experimentally cupped, squeezed and rubbed at her, making her let out a little gasp in return.

It was exhausting figuring out what to simultaneously do with every bit of his body. Was this supposed to be instinctual? Because it felt like a really complicated potion. Her hands were starting to push his jumper and shirt further up his body, and her generous hips continued to to push back and forth. He’d never had so many things happening to his body at once.

She sat up straight and without saying anything started to tug his tops off of him. He imagined it was always hard to undress someone else, but he was all long limbs, so diminutive Lavender struggled to make the clothes climb up him all the way. He awkwardly moved his arms away from her, as he didn’t think she’d like it if he elbowed her in the nose; a very real possibility in such a tight space. Hermione would have said something or given him a warning. God, there was a boner killer. Not because it was Hermione. Normally the thought of her when he was randy like this would have quite the opposite effect… But right now, knowing he was making out with a really pretty curvy girl, who wasn’t Hermione, and probably never would be had a deflating effect, in both mind and body.

He’d never been shirtless with a girl like this, and wasn’t sure what Lavender’s reaction would be. He was in fairly good shape from all the Quidditch, he supposed, but he didn’t think it was anything to write home about. He definitely was pale and scrawny compared to Charlie or the Twins, but at least he was taller. She wasn’t really looking at him much, though, so it didn’t seem to matter.

She stripped off her jumper. His breath caught. He let it out when she revealed a tight white tee underneath. Her eyes were closed as her hands and mouth explored him. With eyes closed, he supposed he could be anyone to her. He closed his eyes and wondered if he could pretend it was Hermione instead of Lavender.

He tried, but all the smells and sensations made it too difficult.

Hermione’s hair was so thick and wild and a completely different texture from the glossy carefully sculpted waves Lavender had. Lavender’s perfume or whatever had a sweet smell, that was nice, but too cloying to smell all the time- like having your nose up in a bunch of candy floss. Hermione never went for candy-sweet smells like that. She liked clean crisp scents that you could barely smell. He had smelled her hair enough as they studied to know. He thought Hermione would really like that perfume he got her last year, as it smelled a bit like books and a rainy day. Finally Lavender’s loud pants and moans took him out of any Hermione filled fantasy he tried to picture. Hermione’s voice was more familiar to him than almost anyone’s, even her little breaths she’d wheeze out when she ran he’d know from anyone else’s.

Lavender painfully latched onto his neck her hands both clawing a bit into his chest. He wasn’t sure how much he liked that, since her nails were a bit sharp instead a short practical manicure like Hermione’s. He moved a hand down her back and rested it on her bum. She didn’t seem to mind, so he gave it the same sort of experimental squeeze he had her bust. He felt his hips jump up to meet hers almost of their own accord.

"Sorry,” he feebly grunted out.

"S’fine,” she murmured against his neck. As one of her nimble hands grazed the front of his trousers, he let out a hiss. She stopped for a moment and actually looked at him, her big eyes meeting his. She bit her lower lip as if contemplating something.

Hermione would do the same thing sometimes, but instead of looking like she had a million thoughts simultaneously flying around in her clever head, Lavender tended to look as if she only had a couple of rogue bludgers knocking around in her head. Lavender wasn’t stupid or anything, but everyone seemed simple compared to Hermione.

Stop thinking about Hermione, you absolute wanker!

Whatever thought Lavender was momentarily wrestling with, she seemed to be over quickly, for she fervently threw herself into their snog with such intensity he thought she might leave bruises. She bit his lip a little too hard, and put her full weight against him. He was forced to lean back until his shoulders were pressed against the wall, leaving his body at an uncomfortable forty five degree angle across the desk.

As he dazedly backed up a bit, Lavender reached her hand under her shirt, as if she had an itch she had to scratch. Ron looked on, highly confused, as she reached up the sleeves of her shirt and fumbled a bit with some strips of fabric she pulled down each arm. Her strange machinations became clear when she finally removed her hands to reveal a pale blue bra hanging from her hand. She displayed it like a Muggle magician did a rabbit, before throwing the garment behind her. Ron knew girls could do this trick as his brothers had mentioned it before, but he’d never seen it in action. All that was separating him from her skin was the thin fabric of her white shirt that left little to the imagination.

“Touch me, Ron,” she whispered.  He let out an involuntary noise and immediately complied, placing both hands firmly on her. One of her fingers unpleasantly scratched its way down his stomach, playing with the hair below his navel. She started fumbling with the fly of his jeans.

“Er… Are you sure you want to…” he trailed off, sounding like he was thirteen again, his voice cracking.

“Don’t you want to?” she purred. She sucked at his neck again, hands still on his fly.

He was very hard, and was having trouble thinking. What bloke wouldn’t want to have a girl, especially one as fit as Lavender, unzip his fly and do who knows what to his undercarriage? On the other hand, this was all happening really fast. He strangely thought of Hermione now, and what she would think about it all. Did she let Krum touch her this way? Would she let McLaggen? He felt his face flush in anger.

Lavender must have taken this as an affirmative blush, because she successfully undid his fly and tried to free him from his jeans. Between his jeans being a tighter pair, and her being on top of him, there was no way she’d manage to get him out without stabbing him with one of her long nails or something equally gruesome.

“Uh, I can—” he offered. She stood up and removed her jeans, leaving her in nothing but a pair of bright pink silky panties and her tight white tee. She smiled invitingly at him, obviously wanting to give him a moment to look over her.

She’s removed her jeans, does that mean she wanted to… Have sex? No way! With him?

They’d only been going out for, what, six weeks? This was unexpected, and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to assume anything. He stared at her some more, taking in her shapely form, smooth legs, and how she was playfully swaying side to side.

She gave one of her giggles, and he gave her a half smile in return. She leaned over— BLIMEY I can see all the way down her top!— and grabbed the frayed hem of his jeans and striped them off him. She’d retrieved her wand at some point, and Ron was suddenly nervous.

“Close your eyes,” she said.

Ron didn’t want to close his eyes in the least. What the hell was she going to do with her wand? Then again, it was Lavender. She wasn’t exactly a threatening sort of girl, and he was sitting in his boxers already. What would she really do?

With trepidation, he complied, though he squinted through his lashes, blurily making out some of her movements. With a wave, she locked the door, did a few spells, and the room was a bit lighter than it was before.He opened his eyes to see she had conjured some large pillows to make the desk more comfortable. She had also conjured floating orbs of light which flickered in like candles.

She looked him in the eye, a besotted sort of tenderness in her eyes. Guilt; horrible guilt started to gnaw at him. He heard Hermione tsking in his head at what was possible going to happen. He liked Lavender fine, but he was nowhere close to fancying her that much. She was always a good sort of girl, who fell on the right side of things. She’d joined the D.A.,  had defended Hagrid from Draco, even though she hated his lessons. And she was nice to Ron. She thought he was wonderful, for some reason. He wished Hermione thought he was wonderful.

He wasn’t though, and this situation was proof.

Lavender looked a bit uncertain before she slowly began to remove her top.

Oh no...  Stop her you idiot!

Lavender took off her top completely, and all thoughts left his brain. Even the guilt seemed to melt away at this. There she was, right in front of him.   Naked. Girl. For him. Naked. She unsurely looked at him.

“Crikey,” Ron groaned out, unable to string together any words.

This was the most skin he’d seen outside of the magazines. His brothers had a group stash of nude magazines they kept hidden beneath a floorboard under a planter on the third landing. Given it was near the twin’s room, he’d barely nicked a magazine more than a few times. The teasing would have been merciless. But he didn’t need to nick a magazine now.

Lavender’s eyes fluttered down to the ground, but she smiled and crawled up him again. Whatever had been stopping him from actively participating seemed to melt away. All Ron could do was touch her, feel every inch of the smooth voluptuous body in front of him. She pulled his face downwards and he complied to the silent command for him to use his mouth. She let out moans that made him respond in kind.

The next few minutes were awkward. Exhausting. Really sweaty. And Ron felt incredible for about a minute or so. Then it was over, and shivers worked their way through his body. His hips stuttered to a halt and he let out a deep breath he’d been holding. As gently as he could he rolled off Lavender and onto his side, back against the wall. Panting and sweaty he closed his eyes for a moment.

With a final swirl of his hips he finished, shivers working their way through his body. His hips stuttered to a halt and he let out a deep breath he’d been holding. As gently as he could he rolled off Lavender and onto his side, back against the wall. Panting and sweaty he closed his eyes for a moment.

It took a moment before Lavender started to move, looking about them. He opened his eyes, and she was looking down at her lap with a disgusted look on her face.

“I’m sorry... I should have-- was it bad?” he asked.

“Oh no, you were wonderful, Won Won,” she said with a dreamy smile. “I’m just looking for my wand. This was just messier than I thought it’d be?”

He pulled a face, not sure if he was more disgusted by the mess or the nickname. Won Won?  He hoped that wouldn’t last.

Ok then. She said I was wonderful. Does that mean I’m not bad at sex? She didn’t get off though. Am I supposed to do that for her now?

She had already done a cleaning charm with her wand and was putting on her jeans. He sighed and retrieved his own wand, doing a tiny bit of clean up himself. Lavender was putting on her bra, looked up and gave him that same besotted smile from earlier. Oh yeah… He’d forgotten about that. The guilt from earlier was back in full force. Once they were dressed, he was sitting on the table again, wanting to nap. Or find a time-turner to stop himself from making the biggest mistake he’d ever made. Either would do. She leaned over and gave him a long kiss.

“Oh Ron,” she gushed, putting a hand on his cheek and smiling at him. “I knew I should wait for the one, and I’m so glad I did!”

The one? Oh Merlin… This was way worse than he ever thought it could be. How could she possibly be under that impression? They’d only been dating six weeks. Seeing how she was looking at him, he needed to make sure they never had sex again. What a twat he was. He could have stopped her at any time, but he’d let his cock do the thinking for him. Now he had a girl who had given herself to him, probably thinking he loved her or something, when he loved - Fancied! - another girl.

“You’re going home for the holidays, right?” she asked out of nowhere, banishing the pillows she had conjured and unlocking the door.

“Yeah. Harry will come along like he always does.”

“Maybe instead we could stay at Hogwarts? Spend the holidays together, just the two of us?” she asked, giving him a saucy smile.

“Er, I don’t think my parents would be too keen on that. Ever since this whole You-Know-Who business started back up, they want us all home for the holidays.”

She made a pouting face, but didn’t push it any further. She happily held his hand as they took an aimless route back to Gryffindor Tower. She suddenly made a face and stood stock still. He looked at her, wondering if maybe she’d left something back in the room.

“Is Hermione going to be staying at your home for the holidays?” she asked, looking suspicious.

“What? No… I reckon she’ll be with her parents.”

“You’ve spent a lot of holidays with her before, though, haven’t you?”

Thinking back, Ron had to say yes. He and Hermione had spent every Christmas holiday together since they were twelve. Lavender’s expression was turning dangerous, so he skirted admitting this.

“We’ve spent a few holidays together, yeah. But always with Harry. And not this year.”

“Why not this year?” asked Lavender, crossing her arms.

“I dunno, Lav, she went off with her parents last year too.”

“I know for a fact Hermione spent last Christmas with you! She wasn’t off with her parents last year.”

“Well, she was off with her parents skiing or something, then she came back when my dad was hurt and in hospital.”

“What excuse will make her come over to your house this holiday, then?” asked Lavender, looking put out.

“Oy, it wasn’t an excuse. My dad was hurt! She’s my friend,” Ron said, getting equally cross.

“Friend…” said Lavender slowly, as if she had never heard the word before.

How had this turned into row? They’d just been having sex and she said he was ‘the one,’ and now she was interrogating him him about Hermione’s holiday plans.

He said Hermione was still his friend, and he hoped that remained true. Thinking over what Lavender had said, maybe Lavender was onto something. Maybe he could arrange an accident or something and Hermione would come to the Burrow for Christmas. She’d never be so mad that she wouldn’t make sure he was ok if he was really hurt, right?

“Fine… Fine,” said Lavender giving a sigh. “I trust you.”

“Uh… Ok good,” said Ron, not exactly sure why she was abruptly changing the topic to trust, but whatever would get her off his back was fine by him.

They made their way back to the common room, and she gave him a deep kiss before saying, “Goodnight, Won Won.”

“Night,” he said, hoping she’d stop calling him that. If she thought he’d start calling her Lav Lav, she was mad. He gave a sigh and went to sit next to the fire place for a bit. With a tired ‘oof’ he sank into a settee and stared at the fireplace.

Well, he wasn’t a virgin anymore. That was odd. Did he look different? He didn’t feel all that different, other than the cloud of shame he felt hovering over him. He needed to figure out a way to extricate himself from Lavender, but wasn’t sure how. Them having had sex made it so much worse. He couldn’t chuck her now. They’d just had sex! Tomorrow it was Christmas holidays. Maybe when they got back in January? But that was awfully close to Valentine’s day, which he knew Lavender would flip out over.

What have you done?

He put his head in his hands and let the fire warm him as he shuddered.

The portrait hole gave a click, and he looked up to see Hermione. His stomach gave a flip. She looked beautiful. She wore a festive red dress that clung to her perfectly, black stockings and was carrying a un-Hermione-ish pair of red heels. Her hair was down, a bit more tamed than usual, but still wild and gorgeous. She gave a loud sigh and went to the fireplace before giving a choked noise when she saw Ron was there.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped at him.

“Nothing,” he said, raising his hands.

She sat in the chair across from him and crossed her arms and legs.

They sat in silence. Maybe this was when they’d finally make up.

“Have a good time at the party?” Ron asked, trying to keep any bitterness at bay.

“You’d know if you had come with me,” she spat out, her whole body stiff with indignation.

“I know…” he said quietly. He looked across at her, hoping he conveyed a bit of how sorry he was. Her breath caught, and she looked him in the eye for the first time in weeks. “I do hope you had a good time, though.”

She scrunched up her face in that cute little expression she made when she was trying to politely express displeasure.

“It was… interesting.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking amused.

She gave a hesitant smile, and was about to say something when McLaggen came through the portrait hole.

“Ah, there you are!” McLaggen said, looking mildly put out. “You didn’t say anything. I was asking Harry where you were even!”

Hermione gave McLaggen a forcefully bright smile and rose. Ron did everything he could to look neutral, busying himself with retrieving his chess set.

“Sorry,” Hermione said to McLaggen, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  “My feet were hurting from these heels. Also that vampire kept getting too close for my liking.”

“Well, maybe we can continue the night somewhere else in the castle. Astronomy tower, perhaps?” McLaggen oozed. Oily sod! Ron stared at them, waiting to hear Hermione’s reply.

“No thank you,” said Hermione quickly, taking a step back. She looked back at Ron for a moment before saying, “maybe after our next Slug Club meeting.”

“Ok,” said McLaggen, a smarmy grin taking over his face. “Do you mind if I go back to the party without you?”

“Please do,” she said, looking happy to be rid of him.

He leaned over, grabbed Hermione, and gave her a kiss on the mouth that more resembled a one sided snog, before he waltzed out the portrait hole. She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, then quietly made her way to the dormitory stairs.

“Ron?” she asked, almost too quietly to hear.

“Yeah?” he immediately stood and walked to her until he was only a few feet away.

Her eyebrows were creased, and she had that expression she got on her face when sorting out a particularly hard puzzle. She was looking into his eyes, and it took everything in him to not confess everything, apologize for being an idiot, and beg for her to take him back. Her eyes trailed down his face to his lips, then lower still to his neck. Her almost tender expression suddenly turned cold.

“Might want to spell those love-bites away before you see your Mum tomorrow,” she bit out, before fleeing up the stairs.

Shit.

He’d been so close sorting things out. He went over to a shiny suit of armor and sure enough, Lavender had left her mark on his neck, many times over, like the beginnings of a spattergroit infection.

Feeling thoroughly defeated, he went to bed, not bothering to wait up for Harry. He fell asleep rather quickly, but it was a restless one, filled with visions of Hermione and that cold look on her face. He woke early, long before the rest of his roommates were up, and held his head, elbows resting on his knees. This situation with Hermione was utterly hopeless.

There was no way to fix anything before the break, so he supposed there was no point in dwelling on it. He was about to face the twins and everyone else at home, and really didn’t want the grief they’d give him if he looked as terrible as he felt.

He went to the restroom mirror and checked out the damage to his neck and chest in better lighting. He looked less like he’d had sex and more like he’d been fighting a bunch of pixies with his hands tied behind his back. He got his wand and quickly healed the hickies and scratches as best he could. He’s need some bruise removing paste to finish the job, but a scarf would do the trick until he could find some in the healing cabinet.

He practiced smiling as if nothing was wrong in the mirror. It took a few tries, but he thought he finally managed it. Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine. He was going to go home and enjoy Christmas, and not think about Hermione once the whole time, if he could help it. With that, he showered, shaved his face, and began to brush his teeth.

“Hey Ron,” said Neville coming into the bathroom. Ron nodded at him, continuing to brush his teeth. “Did you know Hermione went to Slughorn’s party with that berk McLaggen?”

Ron spat and decided to practice his smile.

“Yeah, thanks for the heads up,” he smiled widely, before continuing in forcefully chipper tone.  “Have a happy fucking Christmas, Neville.”

“Er, you too?” Neville stated uncomfortably, as Ron pushed past him into the dorm room, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

“Not so early, ya cunt!” yelled Seamus. Harry and Dean simply grunted in seeming agreement.

Nothing was wrong. Everything was fine. He was going to go home and enjoy Christmas, and not think about Hermione once the whole time.

And he would not kill any of his dorm mates. It was Christmas after all. [NEXT CHAPTER]

author's notes

So c-words get pretty extreme reactions from some people. Sorry- but irishmen use it like breathing when pissed or sleepy.

FULL FIRST TIME BETWEEN RON AND LAVENDER (rated M) CAN BE FOUND HERE

Let me know what you think!

[zelinxia]

Eyyyy, I’m Xia. 26 and nonbinary/demiguy. My pronouns are ze/hir and he/him/his (please do not just refer me as they/them, that is not my pronoun and it personally makes me uncomfortable)

I'm pretty known as that one Kurogane's biggest fan and am co-ruler of the fan club. Other titles I've gotten for fun include "lord of KuroFai" and "Captain of the First Troop of Suwa’s Ninja Forces" (now that's a long story)

My tale of how I discovered tsubasa is pretty interesting. I once followed an artist on deviantart who drew gorgeous Sailor Moon fanart and who shipped Usagi and Seiya. For a Halloween fanart, they were Sakura and Syaoran. Their outfits were unfamiliar to me, so I just wrote it off as "some costumes in CCS I never saw before" because I only grew up watching the botchily edited CCS dub. THEN a few month or so later, I was checking out the manga section of my library and saw the spine for Tsubasa. When I pulled it out, I recognized those outfits right away. This is like straight up CLAMP/fantasy trope thing - be drawn to the books you are destined to pull out! So yeah I kept borrowing most volumes until I had to read the rest online. This was in 2010 so it had finished, but Del Rey was almost done tranlating and publishing.

Like a lot of fans, I liked the characters and their relationships the most. All of them have so much depth to them, and it's worth rereading to pick up new things. Kurogane is obviously my favorite character, and at first I thought he was obnoxious and possibly not going to change much. Listen, tsubasa was my first manga I read so I had no idea how storytelling worked, let alone how CLAMP deals with those who are not the protagonists (here Sakura and Syaoran). Color me surprised he had excellent development and I found I could relate to him!

I say I like to write, but right now I'm trying to get back into the groove. At the moment, if you follow me or browse my blog, you KNOW my current fandom is Yuri!!! on Ice. I especially love talking about Viktor, or as Ryssa mockingly calls him, Russian man. TALK TO ME ABOUT HIM I AM MORE THAN HAPPY TO. I also follow Akatsuki no Yona and Ace Attorney. But yeah, I'm a YoI fan right now, yet I'll always be a tsubasa and CLAMP fan.

FUN FACT My family's pet name for me in Vietnamese tranlsates to "Older PUppy". I'm literally Big Puppy 8)

[theknowing-ff-blog]

Hell Date (Writing challenge 1)

“Shit, Tori get it together. Just act natural and all will go well.”

“Why are you so nervous? It’s only a date, girl.” Ashley said as she was standing in the mirror reapplying her lipstick. She was the only one ecstatic about this.

“I don’t like blind dates, Ashley.”

“You don’t like dates, Tori. You haven’t dated in a year. I’m surprised Samir was able to get you on one.” She’s right, but I try to avoid men as much as possible. With sweat trying to trickle down my forehead, my nerves got the best of me. Blind dates were freaking horrible. The problem was, I agreed to three of them and I don’t think I can make it to the end of this one.

A little background on this date, our best friend think he’s the love connection and decided he would set us up with us with his co-workers. Now here I am pacing back and forth in this bathroom, trying to calm myself down. What if the guy isn’t my type? What if he’s some psycho killer? Better yet, what if I’m not his type? So many things were running through my mind and I just wanted to run the hell up out of this restaurant. I glanced over in the mirror and realized that I wasn’t going to waste this look I had going on. I had a new curly wig, my makeup was popping and my black sequin chain dress was hugging my curves so nicely.

“Well, Tori, you didn’t get fine for nothing.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I sighed deeply and fixed my dress before we headed back out there.

It had been fifteen minutes and our mystery men were already late. I was sitting at the bar and I was already on my second shot of this unsatisfying Jameson whiskey. I was becoming annoyed and wanted to leave right that second. I know this is not a marriage arrangement or anything, but I was so damn nervous. I’m not good with dates at all and I think it’s because I’m scared. It took everything in me to stay there and that’s when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and noticed it was Samir and some girl hey met a few weeks ago. Why must this date be a group date?

“Wassup Tori and Ashley. Y'all look decent.” He said chuckling.

“Hey, Samir.” I looked up at him and took another shot.

“Samir, you’re a hater. We look the fuck good, okay? what are you doing here?”

“Well we wanted to do the whole buddy system, just in case yall dates starts tripping.” He smirked, but I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. I just wanted this date to be over.

“Well, where are they Samir? Did they turn around and leave? That would fade all of my worries.” I said as I waved at the bartender to bring me another shot.

“Tori, can try to be interested in a date for once? You’re not marrying the guy, you’re here to have fun. Here they are now.” That’s when I saw them. One was tall, dark and just fine. The other one was fine too. He was a caramel complexion, tall as well and I don’t know which one it was, but I could smell Viktor & Rolf Spice Bomb Cologne as they made their way over to us.

As soon as they walked over, Samir and his date went to their table and left me and Ashley at the bar. I gulped down my shot and the first thing I noticed from the caramel one, was that his smile turned into a frown. I was confused because was that frown for me or Ashley? I should hope not considering I thought we both looked so fine tonight. Maybe I’m overthinking everything because I’m so damn nervous. Shit, I hope this date goes well.

“Are you Victoria?” The caramel one approached me. His sexy, deep voice had chills running up my spine.

“Yes, but you call me Tori. You’re Ricardo, right?”

“Yes and I rather call you Victoria.” He said it in a nonchalant manner. What the hell was up with that? Strike one.

“Oh okay, um our table is ready.” He rolled his eyes and that’s when I gave Ashley a cold stare as she and her date were all smiles and giggles. Little did she know this date was starting off wrong already. I’m just trying to figure what did I do wrong.

Sitting down, our waiter finally came over and asked us if wanted anything to drink. To be honest I wanted to leave. My date seemed so uninterested and it was just plain rude. I’m no fan of blind dates and I know I didn’t want to do this date either, but I’m trying. I swear if he says anything out of the way I’m leaving and throwing a glass of wine on him. I don’t have time for men and their shitty ass behaviors.

“So I hear you work with Samir. You guys are both into graphic designing, that seems so cool. How do you like it?”

“I mean it’s cool, as you put it. I always had a passion for graphic designing and illustration. Working on my own company as we speak. What do you do for a living? Post pics on Instagram?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you one of those uneducated Instagram models? You just seem like the type. I can tell by your dress, Yeezy season 2 shoes and that hair.” What the hell? I was two seconds from slapping this guy with the menu. How dare he downplay “Instagram” models as he so put it? Strike two.

“Well, first off I’m a hairstylist. Second, I do make money from social media, but I’m no model. I also have a masters in engineering. So who’s uneducated here?” The look on his face was priceless. Ashley and her date both looked over at us and frowned.

“How long did it take you to come up with that?” He smirked and folded his arms together.

“Not that long. Cosmetology at Paul Mitchell didn’t take long. Then getting my degree from the University of Michigan didn’t take long either. Nice try, because you’re really trying it.”

“Look, I’m sorry. I just get tired of going on dates with women who have nothing going on. You give off the vibe that you’re only here for free food and that’s it. You give off the vibe that you don’t do anything but take selfies.”

“Well, you know what they say when you assume. You make an ass of yourself. Would you like it if I judged your ass off the rip? No, you wouldn’t.” His ass shut up then. He knew he was wrong. He had no reason to be that ignorant.

Our waiter came back, sitting our drinks down and that’s when I decided to order an appetizer. I was so close to ending this, but of course, I’m trying to appease Ashley and Samir. They both want me to date so bad, but the guy Samir set me up with is an asshole. I know Samir was trying to do a good deed, but I wish he would’ve have known this son of a bitch was rude.

“So, what made you go to school for hair and engineering?”

“Those are two things I have a passion for and of course I never want to rely on a man for everything. I need my own money, but I don’t have a problem with my man taking care of things.”

“This is why I date white women. They know how to sit back and let a man be a man. You come off aggressive and also demanding. I honestly don’t see what man would want to date you or any woman like you. Black women always want too much. Plus, you continued a back and forth session with me when all you had to do was be quiet. Typical black women shit.” He had a smug look and that’s when the waiter came right on time. I noticed Ashley cocked her head back and was appalled. I don’t know who this guy thought he was playing with, but he had the wrong one. How the hell did I come off aggressive when he started it? And where does he get off with these black women comments? Strike three.

As the waiter came back, he asked if were ready to order anything else and that’s when I told him no because we needed more time. That’s what had; time. I was about to go off on this man since he wanted to be an asshole and put down black women. He really fucked up and now I have to ruin his night and everyone else’s.

“What the fuck is wrong with him. What do you mean typical black women shit? Lawrence, check your boy.” Ashley sat her drink down hard as hell, but I could handle this situation very well.

“Ricardo, chill man. Just leave, don’t be disrespectful towards her.” Lawrence was annoyed and I could tell he wasn’t feeling Ricardo at all.

“That’s why you date white women? Basically, you believe they’re easier to control, huh?”

“Absolutely. They know their place, unlike your kind.”

“My kind? Oh, I’m sorry is your mother of another race or is that underlying racism really fucking with your head? How dare you put down your own women just to say you like white women? Are really this ignorant or you just want a way out of this date? ” we had an audience and honestly I was getting louder on purpose.

“My mother is black but she doesn’t ac-”

“She doesn’t what? Just shut the fuck up, please. Black men like you make it bad for the rest that actually respects us. The fact that you can sit up with a straight face and disrespect me is disgusting. A white woman can you have your sorry ass and we’ll see who has your back when you face racial issues from racist ass people. I’m out of here.” I got up and grabbed my purse.

“Are you done?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m not.” I picked my wine glass up and took a sip. I gave him a dirty look and that’s when I threw the rest in his face. “Now I’m done. Oh Samir, thank you for this blind date, but never again.” I shouted across the room. “Ashley, I will talk to you later. Enjoy your date with this gentleman.”  and that’s when I made my way out of the restaurant. I didn’t have time for the bullshit.

Waiting for my uber, I was heated. I was tired and I was ready to go off on every man that looked my way. I know there are men who disrespect women on a daily, but I never had a man disrespect me personally. Truth be told, I felt embarrassed. When all eyes were on us I felt like I was the one being judged and not him. That’s usually how it is right?

“Excuse me mi-”

“Wha- uh, oh….hi. Yes, can I help you.” I turned around quickly and just when I was getting ready to curse someone out, this fine ass man stopped all of that.

“Hi, I heard what happened in there. Are you alright?”

“Not really. I don’t like when men disrespect  me or any woman for that matter.”

“Yeah, that was pretty messed up. I don’t like seeing shit like that either. I just don’t understand how he could disrespect someone as beautiful as you.” He said as his tongue ran across his bottom lip. I don’t know what it was, but he was so sexy.

“Are you trying to flirt me?”

“I don’t know, is it working?”

“Kind of.” I giggled and fixed my dress. He was so damn beautiful and I don’t know why I was turning red in the face. He was making me nervous.

“I’m Brandon by the way? You are?”

“I’m Tori.”

“Well Tori, are you willing to go on date with me since that one didn’t work?” I wanted to say no, but the vibe was telling me to say yes.

“Hmm, I guess. As long as you’re not disrespectful or crazy.”

“I promise you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Hmm, okay. Now I’m going to hold you to that.” He handed me his phone and that’s when I put my number in it. This was another risk I was willing to take. He was fine and seemed nice. “Here you go.” I handed his phone back and that’s when my uber pulled up.

“When I call you, don’t act like you don’t remember me.”

“Oh, believe me, I won’t. Bye” I waved him bye and got inside of the car. Let’s just hope this works out better than what I just had with that jerk in there. I don’t need any more hell dates, Lord knows.