Disclaimer: Same old, same old.
A/N: First off, I shall not take responsibility for taking so long in uploading this chapter. Why? Because I've had it done for AGES, yet, I had no betas. Linz, who is my regular beta, decided to be MIA for like a month, and finally I couldn't stand the uncertainty anymore and had to go down on my hands and knees and beg and plead for a beta over at the Auror thread at fanforum. Thankfully, Rini appeared and agreed to beta, which she did very quickly and efficiently, so thanks to her for that! Otherwise, this chapter might have never seen the light of day…
(This chapter brought to you by Public Pervert by Interpol. Now, another word from our sponsors!)
*~*~*~*~*
Apparently, yes, something could stop it.
Well, maybe not something, but someone, because that "Oi!" that you had heard calling you was coming from Ron…and sure enough, there he was. He had just waltzed right in, and judging by the surprised look on his face he was probably, well…surprised.
Of course, if you were to put yourself into his position you would probably be surprised as well. It wasn't everyday that you saw your ex-girlfriend sitting around in risqué lingerie being groped by your best friend.
"Am I…am I interrupting something?" he asked with raised eyebrows.
You jumped away from her, even while your body rebelled, because right now your body wanted to be as near to hers as possible…
"You aren't interrupting anything!" you exclaimed nervously, pulling out the tube of bruise remover. "Hermione had a bruise on her leg, and I…er…removed it."
"Yes!" Hermione added. She looked rather nervous and…frightened? "I was accidentally attacked by Harry's weight."
You noticed Ron's eyes narrow as he looked her over. You didn't like that he looked her over. You wanted to kill him. And you were about to, until:
"Hermione, sweetheart, isn't it a little too late to be prancing around in that?" he asked.
That question stopped you short. "What are you talking about?" you asked. It was too late, as in late in the day? In your opinion it was a bit too early…didn't girls put those on before going to bed?
But then you noticed the color draining from Hermione's face...
"See…I got her that last Valentine's Day…" Ron said with nostalgic amusement. "And she nearly ripped my head off! Refused to wear it...why take it out now? Is this some kind of joke or something?" He looked genuinely puzzled, and for a second there you felt a strong sense of male solidarity: women were impossible to understand.
You looked over at Hermione, who resembled nothing more than a small mouse being confronted by a Blast Ended Skrewt. And almost as if she realized how vulnerable she was making herself, you saw her back straighten, and her eyes cloud over. "Ron, what I wear in the privacy of my own home should be of no concern to you!" she replied coolly. Without so much as a nod in your direction, she stalked out of the room, head held high.
You couldn't help but grin as you watched her leave. She had just been caught in a devious little fib… Ron seemed to enjoy it very much…pfft! Hermione Granger, you were a devil underneath all that hair! A rather dignified devil…
"She was right," Ron said with an impish grin.
You turned to look at Ron, confused. "Who was right?"
Ron chuckled. "Luna. She said you were glowing."
"What?" you asked, trying very hard to stop yourself blushing. Stop it. Stop! "What glow? There's no glow…"
"At first I thought it was just Luna being Luna and making silly observations," Ron continued, not minding you at all. "But now I completely understand…you shagged her."
"Who. Luna?"
Ron looked upset. "No! Hermione, you git! Or was she just walking around like she belonged in a harem for no apparent reason?"
You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find the words to explain the current situation. But you couldn't. How could you? This was Hermione you were talking about! There just weren't any answers…
"Stop it," Ron commanded, his smile returning. "You look like a cod fish when you do that. Now go get yourself showered; we need to go out and have a few."
*~*~*~*~*~*
Half an hour later, you found yourself precisely in the same place that was responsible for bringing about the aforementioned situation: The Leaky Cauldron. You really did feel like tearing the place down…
Although, you couldn't help but think how good it had felt to snog Hermione like that, in front of everyone, and not have worry about how people would react. It felt so freeing…
And then there was how good it was to spend the rest of the evening flirting with her shamelessly, all the while under the guise of alcohol. Though truth be told, it wasn't really much of a guise; you both were really smashed. It was quite funny when you thought about it. Luna had had to apparate you home. And then when you did finally arrive, the first thing you did was trip all over your own shoelaces, which had Hermione dying of laughter. Then she tried to help you up, and instead of doing that, she only managed to bring herself down with you, and it had all gone downhill from there…
Stupid Ron with his stupid drinking problem and his stupid schemes of fake engagements. Stupid girls who made Hermione feel bad and made your inner-hero appear on a white horse brandishing a sword (or in this case, a ring). Stupid Tom with his stupid green bottle of mystery…
"Why are we here?" you asked Ron with a pout. You hated pouting, but really, in this case, circumstances seemed to necessitate a good pout.
"We're here to talk about me!" Ron said with that natural air of his that screamed 'I am the center of the universe!'
"Oh joy."
"But first…" Ron said, inching closer to you like an old woman sharing waterhole gossip. "How did this thing between you and Hermione start, anyway?"
"Oh, don't act like you don't know!" you replied scathingly. After all, it was his fault it began in the first place.
"Me?" he said with wide, innocent eyes. "Whatever have I done to encourage this…"
"You know, you've never been a good liar," you said with a smirk.
"I know," he said disarmingly. "So I take it last night's show for The Leaky Cauldron Public extended itself into the privacy of your boudoir…"
"Aren't we here to talk about you?" you replied dryly.
"Yes, but putting you on the spot is oh so much more enjoyable…"
You chucked a Butterbeer cap at him. "Ron, doesn't it at all bother you?" you asked seriously. It was really important for you to know.
"What?"
"Me and Hermione…"
Ron rolled his eyes. "You accuse me of being the puppet master behind all of this, and yet I'm supposed to be upset by it…"
"Ron! You know what I mean!" He really could exasperate the hell out of you.
He took his time answering. He had a sip of his Butterbeer, examined his nails, the crowd…he ordered another Butterbeer, indulged in a flirtatious conversation with the barmaid, invaded a Quidditch conversation that the table next to yours was having, until finally, you couldn't stand it any longer.
"Ron! Stop acting like a prat!" you yelled.
He grinned. "I was just teasing you mate. Of course I don't mind! Hermione and I…she's my past. It was a great for a while but you know, we waited soo long…we had this buildup of tension…but then when it came down to it, the end result was rather anticlimactic. And then there was always the x-factor…" He looked a bit uncomfortable for a second, and you noticed that his eyes shifted away from yours. You attributed this to the fact that you and Ron had never really talked about his relationship with Hermione…
Yet, Ron had never had a problem talking to you about any of his other girlfriends. Of course, you understood why now he wouldn't want to talk to you about he and Hermione as you were about to embark on that perilous journey yourself…
But what accounted for the past? Why hadn't you and Ron ever talked about Hermione? You never minded talking to him about Elisa. You fondly remembered all those times you would come to him when you had problems with Elisa…
Elisa, whom you met through Oliver Wood at a Puddlemere game. Oliver was engaged to her sister at the time, and she was there visiting from her native Guatemala. You were instantly charmed by her caring nature, and instantly attracted to her big brown eyes and dark hair. She was the one that pulled you out of the abyss…
But you never told Ron of the one who threw you in it to begin with.
"Ron, you don't have to continue if you don't want to," you told him sincerely. Although you were burning with curiosity about his and Hermione's past, you had to take into account that you were males; talking about your feelings wasn't a specialty.
You were both quiet for a while, lost in your thoughts. Until Ron suddenly seemed to reanimate himself, and remembered the reason he had called on you to begin with.
"Harry, I need to tell you something," he said earnestly. You saw his eyes soften a bit, and his stare become glassy, and you were filled with an eerie sense of déjà vu…
"What is it?" you asked feeling concerned.
"I can't stop thinking about her Harry. I…I think I'm in love with her."
You felt like smacking your head on the table. That was what…four years ago? You people seriously need to move on…
Indeed! And here she was, up to her old tricks again!
"Mate, did Romilda slip you a Chocolate Cauldron again?" you asked exasperatedly.
"I'm not talking about Romilda you halfwit!" Ron snapped. "I'm talking about Luna!" And after this pronouncement, Ron did smack his head down on the table.
You wanted to die of laughter. "Luna? How did this happen?"
Ron looked up from his table miserably. "I have no idea. After well, after Ginny…when Ginny…"
"Ron, can you say it," you said quietly.
"Well, when Ginny and Charlie…err…happened, I…I didn't know what to do. I couldn't talk to my brothers because they were suffering as much as I was, not to mention mum and dad. And I couldn't very well talk to you, considering…"
And then he stopped again. You encouraged him on with a nod. "And Hermione…she tried, but she never quite…she doesn't have siblings; she never had anyone in her family die. Her parents were safely away in the Muggle world and Luna…she survived her mother, and she was Ginny's best friend. She was there…"
You nodded. Luna did have a way with making the grief-stricken feel better.
"Ginny was the one I always used to go to, you know, when it came to Hermione and things of that nature," he rambled on. "And then slowly Luna came to fill that place. I never really understood how we became so close in the first place, I mean, Neville as well. We sort of grew together after that…the five of us, didn't we?"
You nodded again, not wanting to interrupt him. The whole topic of conversation was quite taboo…no one ever spoke to you about Ginny. Sometimes you felt like she had never existed except in your dreams; it had been like that even while she was still alive.
You remembered the night you defeated Voldemort; Ron and Hermione were there with you, up until the very end. You were so very tired…but you remembered that drive to continue, for them, because they had to be happy. Because you loved them. They had to live and be happy, even if you died.
But you didn't die…yet sometimes you wished you had, because you were so very tired. So very tired that the next night, when everyone was out celebrating your triumph, no one noticed you escape. No one noticed you sitting in some decrepit little pub. No one saw you except for her…the one with the red hair and curls; the one who smelled vaguely of flowers…
No one saw you leave with her. And in the morning, when it was over, you didn't see her leave. You never heard from her again. Just like a dream…
And you never told Ron. You never told anyone. You were alone in your quiet little abyss.
Until Elisa.
"Harry…have you been paying any attention to what I've been telling you?" Ron asked you with narrowed eyes.
"What? Oh yes. You love Luna," you replied mechanically.
"Yes, and that's why I'm going to ask Romilda to marry me."
"WHAT?" You exclaimed, almost collapsing out of your chair.
"It's a brilliant idea!" Ron continued, eyes gleaming. "When she hears Romilda and I are engaged, she'll want me. I know she will. You know how witches are: they always want what they can't have…"
"Ron, I've known you for ages, and I've heard a lot of ridiculous ideas coming from you in the past. But this just tops them all!"
"Are you kidding?" he asked excitedly. "It's genius!"
"And the fact that you'll be playing with Romilda's feelings doesn't cause you the slightest amount of guilt?"
"Oh," he said, his excitement already deflating. "I hadn't really thought of that."
"Of course you hadn't!" you said with mock empathy.
"It's just that…" Ron smacked his head on the table again. "It's ridiculous to think that Longbottom gets to shag a girl with such perfect breasts!"
You felt your eyes widen. Really, you had never thought of it that way, but it was quite true: Luna did have fabulous breasts. Ginny had had the beautiful face; Elisa had the nice bum…
Hermione had legs that could kill an immortal with their perfection. Not to mention the intelligence, the sense of humor, the inner beauty, the compassion, the drive, the intensity…
Why exactly were you sitting in a pub with Ron when you had that waiting for you at home?
"I'm going home!" you announced suddenly, making Ron whine in protest.
"But you still haven't helped me figure this out!" he moaned.
"Ron, get a bloody clue! Luna's been in love with you since we were fifteen, however disappointing this might be for Neville. Actually, I think Neville already suspects, and it'll benefit you all if you just confess your feelings now before things get more serious between them."
Ron nodded, a new light already in his eyes. "You know, I bet Romilda could make Neville feel better…"
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever harebrained scheme you're thinking of now, please leave me and Hermione out of it!" you commanded.
"Wow, so possessive of the missus already," he said cheekily. "Will you allow me to call on her? I promise you I shall only appear at the appropriate hours, so as to correspond with my Lady's virtue. I shall send my calling card in advance, according to your Lordship's pleasure…"
"I'm going now, Ron." If you rolled your eyes one more time, they'd roll right out of your head and onto the floor.
"Strength and honor, your majesty!" You heard him salute before you 'popped' out.
Ron really should learn to differentiate between his feudal Englishman and Roman Gladiator impersonations.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Elisa was Guatemalan.
It had been bothering you all day, ever since Maria and Valentino finally gave into their love for each other. The idea that you could forget the nationality of Harry's ex-girlfriend was insufferable! You had liked her very much…
She was a conundrum of a human being: feisty, yet sweet. You had always gotten along well with her; you had never fought with her. Not the way you used to do with Ginny. You had always found that strange.
Then again, maybe it wasn't so strange. Elisa had always understood her place in Harry's life. She had never tried to take your place in the grand scheme of things. She understood that there was this whole world that you and Harry and Ron shared that she could never be a part of…that she could never even begin to understand.
But it wasn't like you went out of her way to make her feel like an outsider. On the whole you were quite amicable. You were still with Ron then, so he was always over. And she practically moved in for a while as well…she was always dancing and singing. She loved to cook, which won Ron over immediately. She loved to read, which won you over immediately. When she was really upset she used to yell at Harry in Spanish. She even taught you a few phrases, which you still used on the boys whenever they angered you. She got Harry hooked on Spanish soaps, and he in turn reeled you in as well. She used to laugh because even though neither of you understood what they were saying, you always managed to know what was going on. It was almost like watching an Italian Opera and being able to understand the emotions…
But those weren't the important things. She had never known Harry as anything other than just Harry; the fact that she was a newcomer and had had nothing to do with Harry's past was perhaps the main reason why she had been so good for him. He thought nobody knew, but you knew that he had suffered a bit of post-triumph depression…
You had liked her because she made him happy.
Now that Maria and Valentino were together, the network decided to milk the climax for all it was worth by playing clips of the progression of their relationship, and you--like an idiot--were sitting there watching it when there were twenty million things that needed to be read…
They were currently on the one where Maria had just had her heart broken by Antonio.
She was sobbing all over Valentino, who just sat with her and said nothing, while still making it clear that he was there for her in everything. You rolled your eyes in contempt.
Oh really! It was so obvious that they belonged together, even then! He was sitting with her, patiently letting her cry her pain away…
Men hate crying women! They always think women cry over stupid things and just tell them to keep a stiff upper lip. Or, they simply get distressed at the prospect of a hysterical woman and leave them alone entirely.
But not Valentino; he was there for Maria. You remembered watching this episode with Elisa, and she had huffed at the ridiculousness of novelas. According to her, Latin men never did such things…she giggled prettily when you suggested that perhaps they all had the emotional ranges of teaspoons…
Perhaps Ron should have been Latin. The only time he ever watched you cry was when somebody died, or almost died. But in all other cases he had always thought your crying unwarranted.
The fact that Ron had been the one to break things off with you still boggled your mind. If anything, you had more to complain about than he did. Yet he had been the one with enough presence of mind to say enough already, all the while muttering about x-factors…
And sure, it had been awkward at first…the first month after the breakup was hell with Harry in the middle, fresh from his own Elisa-based disappointment. Though in the end, Harry's own breakup seemed to fulfill a greater purpose as it caused you and Ron to re-form your friendship in order to be there for him.
You had liked her because she made him happy.
Had you really liked Elisa because she made him happy? Or had you liked her because you had always known that would be a transient relationship…almost like setup for something else. You had always known Elisa would eventually go back; she had never intended to stay in England. You had seen the homesickness in her; she loved Guatemala so much…
Would Ginny have been transient?
You stopped that rain of though, knowing that it would lead to questions that were too unfair to muse over. Ginny had only been sixteen…Charlie still had a full ahead of him as well…
The thought was just too depressing.
The thought processes evoked by Spanish soap operas were amazing.
There was a loud 'pop' in the room and Harry appeared. He was shaking his head as if in astonishment, but abruptly stopped when he realized you were there, observing.
"What happened?" you asked, curious as to what insane antics Ron had probably conjured up.
Harry grinned, the astonishment still evident. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he said, sitting himself down next to you. "Are you still watching Amores Peligrosos?" he asked with a grin.
"No, they're just random clips," you replied absentmindedly. "Oh, and don't act so smug! You cried when Valentino's parents died!"
"I did not cry!" he said vehemently. "There was a speck of dust in my eye…"
"Sure, sure," you replied with a grin.
Both of you remained quiet for a while, amicably watching the novela. You found it amazing that you could still sit down and act like everything was normal after the events of the past two days.
And then he went and ruined it.
"I see you changed your outfit," he remarked tensely, though his eyes were locked on the show.
"It got a bit cold," you replied airily. You felt your back stiffen and your cheeks burn, but you refused to show the discomfort that that particular subject brought you.
"You never wore it for Ron, did you?" he asked quietly.
"Of course not."
"Good. I should have known you hadn't. It isn't at all you."
You just sat there, and didn't reply. Really, how were you supposed to reply? Were you supposed to ask him what he thought was you? Were you supposed to ask him whether he ever sat around and pictured you in adequate lingerie…
Pfft.
"Elisa is getting married next month," he said nonchalantly. You raised your eyebrows, as it was kind of eerie that he was mentioning her right after you had just finished thinking about her…
But then again, you had always had that weird mind-reading thing.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, she's marrying her childhood best friend. Roberto something or other…"
You wanted to turn your head and look at his face. But you couldn't. You were afraid of what you might see. So instead you kept your eyes locked on Maria and Valentino. "Does this bother you in any way?"
"Of course not," he replied calmly. His eyes were still trained on the television. But then he turned to you with a slight smile on his face. "I've always rooted for the Marias and Valentinos of the world."
You couldn't help the half smile that appeared on your lips, or the way your back seemed to un-stiffen itself. You couldn't help the warm lump in your belly and the tingles that soared through your body, making it hum. It was the same feeling that had taken you over the night before, when you were way too drunk to fight it. It was the same feeling that had taken you over earlier that day when you had watched him attack his punching bag.
It was the same feeling that had always been. The one you had never recognized.
That was what it was all about, wasn't it? That one person that can make you feel completely comfortable one minute, but totally turn the tables on you the next. A perfect balance of comfort and excitement…
Ron's x-factor.
"I'm going to bed now," he said. He kissed your forehead, stood himself up, and walked away.
You wondered how long you could last before following him.
*~*~*~*~*
A/N: I borrowed Elisa's personality from a soap opera character my mom got me stuck on. I know a lot of you are native Spanish speakers and probably sit down and watch novellas with your mums too…brownie points if you can guess who Elisa is based on!
Oh, and before you tell me how much you hate me for continually pulling the same thing at the end of every chapter of this fic, I have good reason to this chapter. If you hadn't already noticed, it's pretty much a filler chapter. (Think of it as the Book 6 to next chapter's Book 7, where all the important things happen. Ya know what I'm sayin'? )
*wink*
Pfft. You better.