A/N: Have you read the previous chapter yet? If you haven't, you better, or this won't seem as… interesting.
Chapter Seven
CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES: Common Remedies for Ailments of the Heart
Eventually, Ron spoke less and less about his painful break-up, and friends and family began to get it in their heads that things were going back to normal.
I for one knew things were not as normal as they should be between the three of us.
Oh, Ron and I were fine. We were the best of friends. But both our relationships with Hermione changed. The reasons for Ron were obvious. My reasons weren't quiet so obvious, and not nearly as open for discussion.
Hermione still came to the Happy Gryff, but not as often as she used to; once a week if I was lucky. Whenever she was there, we'd sink back into our easy and delightful conversations, and for about half an hour, I'd forget about the five hundred pound Gorilla in the room that represented our relationship with Ron. I'd stare into her lovely eyes and think, "What I wouldn't do for you," even if was already failing that promise at that very instant with my inaction. We'd laugh together and share a dream or two, even hold hands when we got carried away.
But then I would suddenly remember why I shouldn't be doing this with her, so I'd chug down an entire glass of wine, feel the sickly sweet intoxication throb between my temples, and use those five seconds of numbness to excuse myself from the company I had longed to be with the entire week.
Sometimes it was she who remembered, and she would be the one to cut it short, saying she had some things to do, and that she had to go. I never wanted her to go, and I always asked her to stay longer-just a minute longer, but she'd smile sadly and say she had to. Her eyes would remind that we had this agreement, and at least one of us had to be strong when the other was weak.
So I pretended there was absolutely nothing wrong with Hermione and I while I helped Ron pretend he was feeling better about his break up with her.
Juggling both was not easy, especially when certain occasions required all three of us to be present, like for family gatherings and get-togethers with our classmates in Hogwarts. I wanted and hated to sit beside her on the table, and given the situation between her and Ron, I had to sit between them. Always. It was imperative.
The merciful Gods sometimes spared us having to sit at one table, like in symposiums and socio-political events, but it grated on both Ron's and mine's nerves, having to watch Hermione from a distance being fawned over by other men.
At least Ron could act like he was jealous. I had no such luxury. I had to make sure no one suspected it was affecting me, especially not Ron. It was one of the hardest things I had to do.
So when in one occasion, Luna was there to keep Ron occupied, I discreetly made my way to one of the curtained balconies. I had seen Hermione go there with some disreputable playboy and I was quite ready to throw hexes.
I was contemplating how best to dispose of the man without royally pissing Hermione off when said playboy stumbled out of the curtains, a red handprint on his cheek.
I glared at him and he scampered off, never daring to look back.
When he was gone, I hastened to stand just beyond the curtains.
"Hermione?" I whispered. "Alright there?"
There was silence, and for a moment, I thought I had been mistaken about Hermione being there, but she suddenly replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "Quite. Nothing I couldn't handle."
I was relieved, and perhaps a bit ashamed of myself for thinking that Hermione needed saving, or some such hogwash as that. "He's a right wanker."
"That, he is. I really hate these parties, don't you?"
"Yeah, but it would be rude of us not to come to them, yeah?"
"Extremely."
I gave tight lipped smile. "Not so bad, being with you and Ron, though."
She fell silent again for a few heartbeats. "It's my only consolation."
I looked at the dance floor. There were many couples on it, and it was appropriately lit. There would be absolutely nothing amiss about Harry Potter asking Hermione Granger to a friendly dance.
Ron was still talking to Luna, and they seemed to be engaged in animated conversation.
"Want to dance?" I asked, my heart thudding through my chest.
Another silent pause.
Then the curtain moved aside and I could see her peeking through it. "Yes. I'd really love that."
She smiled. I smiled back.
And so I took her by the hand and led her to the dance floor. I whirled her in my arms and we were smiling, just two best friends sharing a song.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few weeks later, Ron told me Ginny had set him up on a blind date.
"It's going to be horrible. I just know it," groaned Ron.
I was quite sure Ginny loved her brother enough not to set him up with a complete hag, and I honestly thought-whoever she was-that she'd at least be pleasant company. Somebody to get Ron comfortably back in the game if nothing else.
She was a complete hag.
Oh, beautiful, to be sure. Ginny plucked her right out of the pages of the fashion magazine she worked for. The witch had legs that went on forever, lips that begged to be kissed, and the face of an angel, but what a cantankerous bitch!
She complained all night about men ogling her dazzling good looks, whined about how people took her for granted, and scolded Ron for thinking that just because he helped save the Wizarding world, it didn't mean he could treat her like a disposable dish rag, which had Ron completely baffled, because he was being on his best behavior.
She was in tears by the end of the night, and Ron swore he would never go on another date again.
I flooed Ginny, and I don't even know why I was irritated with what she'd done.
"What in the world were you thinking, Gin?" I asked, scowling. "She was awful! How can you think Ron would like someone like that? Now he's having crazy notions of never dating again. He'll never get over Hermione this way!"
Ginny didn't take very kindly to my scolding. She bat-bogeyed me. I didn't even know it could be done through the floo. Slughorn was right. She was proficient with that hex.
That was the last time Ginny attempted to get her brother a date, so the task was left with me. I didn't even bother to ask help from Fred and George. They'd probably traumatize Ron even worse.
Seamus, Dean, and Neville were much more cooperative, and with our efforts combined, we found several amiable women for Ron to go out with. All of them were failures, yes, but at least none of them sent Ron running… well, except maybe for that one instance with the transsexual. Not running, really. Squirming, yes. I mean, Ron had grown to become a relatively progressive bloke, thanks to Hermione's influence, but he wasn't ready for transsexuals yet. That was some rather advanced shite.
Anyway, I don't know how Seamus missed the Adam's apple on that one.
It wasn't so bad, anyway. Patty (legally, he was Patrick, but he was hoping everyone would get used to calling him by his new name even before the operation) was a really sweet fellow. He felt that with his upcoming sex change, being a woman was a mere step away, but he had to admit it was really difficult getting a proper date with a man while he still had his penis. So Patty was really nice about it when Ron said he didn't think they could have a second date, after all, at that point, Patty could have still very well punched Ron's lights out.
On a more interesting note, Luna has been notably intrigued by all of Ron's dates, listening intently whenever he griped and moaned about how he'd almost forgotten how exhausting dating was.
There were a lot of things Luna was-in fact-notably intrigued in. There were days when Luna and Hermione were at the Gryff at the same time, and most of the time, Luna didn't stick around when Hermione was there, but I couldn't help but wonder if Luna noticed the five hundred pound Gorilla in the corner whenever Hermione was by, what with all those knowing looks Luna seemed to throw at us on her way out the Gryff's doors. I won't be entirely surprised. If the lady can see Snorkacks, she can sure as hell see Gorillas.
And so the quest for Ron's dates continued, and really, in spite of his complaints, he never told us to stop. Which worked really well for me, as far as psychos/crackheads went.
I realized that I had developed a rather unhealthy obsession of finding the right girl for Ron. I needed him to find a girlfriend. I needed him to be happy again.
I just wanted him to start seeing someone, dammit! So bad I could-well, I don't think "so bad I could taste it" is appropriate. It sounds rather disgusting, but it went something like that.
So of course, as life would have it, the road to salvation was not easy. Willing though he was to see other women, he was impossible. Incredibly picky. One would think that given his own desperation to move on, he'd-I don't know, force himself, or something. I had half a mind to tell him he was a complete idiot if he couldn't find someone after all the women we've paraded before him.
Hermione knew it all along. He was a moron. He had the emotional range of a teaspoon. He let Hermione get away after all, didn't he?
But I suppose we all underestimated him, or rather, I was so intent on finding someone for him that I didn't bother to realize that he might have found someone for himself.