Unofficial Portkey Archive

A Rather Indecent Proposal

Chapter 4: Twenty candles

Author: Carla, aka cali-chan
Rating: PG, so far. Rating might go up, though, depending on my mood when writing later chapters.
Genre: Romance, humor, drama.
Pairings: Will probably end up R/LL, with H/Hr and D/G on the side.
Canon/timeline: Post-DH, though I haven't read any of the post-DH interviews so I might have a few facts off. I wouldn't say it disregards the epilogue (an open ending is always a possibility), but time-wise this story happens a year after chapter 36 of DH. So the epilogue hasn't happened yet.

Summary: "I need you to be my boyfriend." "Luna, you... do know I'm with Hermione... don't you?" "Yes, but don't worry, it's okay. I'm not a jealous person." Ron's eyes almost bugged out. Every time he thought he'd seen her at her limit of craziness, she managed to surprise him yet again.

"Ron, I really think we should come back after lunch."

"Don't tell me that now! We're already here; might as well just go in, eh?"

"I just don't want us to miss our reservation. We're cutting it close as it is..."

"Not like you'll be sitting for a thirty-minute speech! Mum just wants to congratulate you. It'll take half a second."

"But won't it seem rude--"

"Oh, just go on!"

"Alright, alright, I will! But you've told her, right? That we're going out for lunch."

"Yeah, I've told her already. Will you just go on?"

"Yes, no need to push me, Ronald! ...Hey, where is everybody? I don't think I've ever seen your house so empt--"

"SURPRISE!"

Hermione would fervently deny it later on, but she jumped back a good eight feet when dozens of people suddenly appeared into the Weasleys' living room. It took her half a second to catch her breath after the scare, and she found herself stunned still and wide-eyed as every person in the room stared at her and grinned for what seemed like ages. No words could come out of her mouth, even as it was rather ungracefully opening and closing to the rhythm of her agitated heart's beating. Finally, she gave up on asking for an explanation, realizing that the surprise had effectively rattled her enough to render her speechless (that's a tip they had to save for the future, Harry would quip later on, when teasing her about it); instead, she turned around towards her boyfriend, who stood a few feet behind her, laughing so hard that you'd think her expression was the funniest joke ever told since the one about the horse that went into a bar.

She pointed to him, accusingly. "You... but... then lunch..."

That was as far as she got before she was caught in a giant bear hug by Ginny, not to mention Parvati Patil, Terry Boot and what seemed to be half of the Wizarding World.

Ron's mirth finally calmed down as Hermione was dragged away towards the crowd of well-wishers. "Oh, I am so good," he told Harry, who had come to stand beside him, hands in his pockets, also chuckling at his bushy-haired friend's reaction. "She didn't even have a clue."

The bespectacled young man snorted lightly. "Yes, Ron, you absolutely deserve an Oscar." He continued speaking before his best friend had the opportunity to ask what an Oscar was and why he'd want anything to do with some strange fellow: "You're late, by the way."

Ron shrugged. "Yeah. She insisted on going back to Hogwarts to see how Madam Pince was doing with the Library restoration. She wanted to add some books to the requisition list-- said expanding the students' information base was important or something like that. Wanted to include new editions. You know how she gets around books."

"Could've let us know, though," Harry insisted. "Your Mum was just about having kittens here."

The redhead's hands laced comfortably behind his head. "Sorry, I guess. Didn't want her to suspect. You know she notices the smallest things."

Harry's eyebrows rose so high, they were partially hidden by his messy fringe. "Of course. My bad. Glad to see you were able to accomplish your mission so efficiently, I mean, it's not like bringing Hermione here was the only thing you had to do..."

His sarcasm was not lost on the youngest Weasley boy. "Oh, quit whinging, Harry; it's unbecoming of the Chosen One." He jokingly shoved Harry on his shoulder. "Alright, I'll help more next time, I promise. I've just been busy."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I know now not to even try. Don't want to distract you from your secret life." Ron's head whipped very quickly towards his at that phrase, his eyes slightly widened and his appearance a bit alarmed, like something wrong had been said. This made Harry a bit curious. "What have you been doing, anyway?"

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but instead took in a big gulp of air, making a pause before responding. "Oh, nothing. Just... you know... uh, studying." He shrugged, making it seem like this was nothing out of the ordinary, even though the rest of his body language said he was still slightly on edge. "That quiz on confession rights was a killer and I really wanted to cram as much as I could." If it had been any other person, he might have called Ron in on his shaky response or his skittish mannerisms. Harry, though, was more interested in what Ron had just said. He threw the redhead a surprised look. "What?" Ron said back, feeling distinctly uncomfortable under Harry's gaze.

"Studying? For this whole week? I've never known you to study a week ahead." His tone was distinctly disbelieving.

At any other time Ron might've been offended that Harry was taking the mickey out of him about his study habits (and he sounded honestly astounded too, the git!), but at the moment he was more concerned with ending this train of topic right there. "Yeah, I just... er, I thought Hermione would appreciate that... more than any simple gift, you know. Don't ya think?"

Harry at least looked like he bought it, even though it was out of character for Ron. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense."

"Thanks for thinking so highly of me, by the way."

"Always here to support you, mate." Harry grinned at Ron's sardonic tone. Ron mock-glared at him. "Next time just warn us, though. We were waiting for a long time and Luna was quite happy to tell everyone about some buzzing creature that, according to her, likes to hide inside inflated balloons. Soon she had half the guests with their ears stuck to the bundles outside, trying to hear some sort of noise. I think your Mother was contemplating locking her up in the attic until you two arrived," he finished, laughing openly but warmly about the eccentricities of their mutual friends.

Normally Ron would've laughed, but instead Harry's words have driven him to stillness again. Out of the pan and into the fire, he thought. "Oh, um... Luna's here?"

Harry threw Ron a look that indicated just how redundant that question was. "Of course she's here. She's friends with Hermione, isn't she?" Ignoring Ron's weak nod, he pulled his hands out of his pockets and lightly scratched one with the other. "Well, I guess it's time to mingle now," he said, not entirely sure how he felt about the fact. A surprising amount of people had shown up to celebrate Hermione's birthday... Hermione herself had gotten lost in the mob of people somewhere in the past few minutes. He knew all of the guests, and it would be great to catch up with many of them, but Harry wasn't really a party person.

Ron knew how he felt about this particular crowd, though-- he had no desire to go in and come across certain people; he wouldn't really know how to act around them, and he didn't want any awkwardness. So he decided to make himself scarce, at least for a while. "Uh, I think I'm going to go up to my old room to look for something. I'll come down in a few."

Harry nodded at him and was out of his range of view quickly enough. With a sigh, Ron headed upstairs.

--

Molly Weasley looked around at all the guests, a smile on her face, basking in the satisfaction of a job well done. The party was in full swing and everybody was having fun. Many people had commented on her excellent pumpkin pasties (she was very proud of those, she'd given an old family recipe a hip new twist), and the decorations had managed to stay up despite the Lovegood girl's insistence that there was something wrong with them.

Her smile grew delighted as her eyes moved to Hermione, who was near the door to the backyard, chatting with Hannah Abbott, Mandy Brucklehurst and a few other girls. She looked happy, if a little winded (she'd been pulled into just about every group of people in the house today-- for finding herself an unknowing hostess, she had picked up the pace of the party quite easily). Molly was happy to see her glowing, she had been working very hard lately and she was such a good girl, she deserved to know people cared about her and wanted to wish her a happy birthday.

That's why, when Ron and Harry had come up to her with the idea of throwing a surprise party for Hermione, she hadn't even thought about it for a second before letting them know that they needn't worry because she'd take care of everything. Sure, Hermione was a little too forward-thinking sometimes, and they may not see eye-to-eye all the time, but she was a wonderful girl, and Molly loved her like she was her own daughter.

Perhaps one day soon, she'd become Molly's daughter for real.

But she shouldn't be thinking of such things today, there were still many details to oversee. Besides, Ron kept getting twitchy and Arthur kept throwing her those "Molly..." looks whenever she brought the topic up. So today she would keep mum about it, in hopes that her actions may speak louder than her words, and give her oblivious youngest son a push in the right direction.

At that moment, Mundungus Fletcher passed next to her, little Teddy Lupin hanging from his ankle in the older man's grip, the baby squealing in delight through the whole ride. As she lectured Dung on the correct handling of infants (and wondered for the nth time just who had invited him to the party in the first place... wasn't he supposed to be in jail?), she remembered why she'd come out back in the first place.

She moved towards the group of girls in front of her. "Excuse me, girls... Hermione, dear?" she asked as she stepped discretely in between Mandy and a sandy-haired girl whose name she didn't really remember.

The bushy-haired girl's eyes widened as Molly approached. "Mrs. Weasley! Merlin, I haven't even had the opportunity to talk to you at all-- thank you so much for all of this, it was such a wonderful surprise." She moved forward to hug the older woman.

Molly embraced her back warmly. "Oh, no need to thank me, dear. It was all Harry and Ron's idea anyway, I just helped with a few details here and there." Alright, so maybe she was being a little modest about it considering she had actually spent the last two weeks thinking of nothing but party plans, but that was only proper.

After the required thank-yous and compliments to the decorations were exchanged, and the rest of the girls had moved on with their conversation behind them, Molly hurried to let her know what had brought her there: Charlie had bought a wonderful new camera and she had thought it would be a good idea to take some group photos, preferably before lunch was served so they wouldn't have to wait for people to finish eating. Hermione thought this was a great idea and agreed to round people up for the photos if Molly would help Charlie set everything up.

"I think I saw George chatting with Katie Bell by the main entrance, I'll be sure to let him know," Hermione assured Molly, starting her own mental list of people she had to look for.

"Very well, dear. Oh, and I think Harry was standing to the back of the yard, with Ernie McMillan and Oliver Wood. Let him know as well, he can't be left out of the Weasley family photo." Hermione nodded her assent. "Now, where is Ronald? I thought he was with you, he should help."

"Ron? No, he's not with me," Hermione looked around, as if noticing for the first time the absence of the tall redhead. "Actually, I haven't seen him since the surprise..." she added, pondering if indeed she hadn't seen at least a glimpse of him in the last while.

Molly frowned. "Ooh, that boy, I swear... He's your boyfriend, he ought to be here with you as you greet the guests. Why, I'll be sure to give him a talking-to when I find him," she affirmed. Then, she turned her frown to Hermione. "You two haven't been arguing again, have you? Not on your birthday, I hope. Oh, I swear that boy wouldn't know tact if it walked in front of him carrying a big sign."

"Oh, no, everything's alright between Ron and I, Mrs. Weasley. And it's quite fine by me that he's not around, I'm sure it wouldn't be much fun for him to have to be with me through all the girl-talk I've been doing," she was quick to brush Ron's absence off. There were so many people here, they'd probably just drifted into different groups. She didn't mind.

Molly wasn't wholly convinced by her reply, but didn't push anymore. Saying goodbye to Hermione for the moment, she proceeded to go ahead and look for Charlie. She'd just go and tug on Ronald's ear later. "He'd better not be trying to sneak into the kitchen to try the food, though..." she muttered as she left, and Hermione laughed at that.

--

When Arthur Weasley poked his head into what used to his youngest son's room, he found Ron slumped on his old bed, legs hanging off the end of it, glaring at the low ceiling like it had committed some sort of travesty against Wizardkind. Relieved that he wouldn't have to keep looking for him in every other room in the house, Arthur let himself in, leaving the door only half-open after him. "So here's where you've been hiding," he quipped, startling Ron away from his staring match with the ceiling to look at him. "Your mother's been looking for you. She's insisting we get some family pictures taken."

The younger man frowned at that. "She's fretting about that now? We haven't even eaten yet."

"I think that was probably the point," he explained, not being able to help an amused smile at his wife's antics. He took a few more steps into the room, giving a curious glance around. "So, why are you holed up here? There's a party downstairs."

Ron didn't move any more than needed to reply. "Just thinking. Don't feel like being around so many people, I guess."

Arthur was surprised by this. "That doesn't sound like you," he moved closer, to sit on the bed beside his son's denim-clad legs. "Besides, it's Hermione's birthday. Shouldn't you be by her side?"

Ron shrugged as best as he could with his shoulders being hindered by a pillow. "She's a big girl. I'm sure she's having fun on her own."

The young man's words did not have any particular inflection other than being slightly hesitant, so Arthur was sure Ronald wasn't actually angry. Whenever he was, he could not keep it out of his tone. This time, though, he sounded more avoidant than angry. "Is something wrong?" A thought occurred to him and he frowned. "Did you and Hermione have a fight? Because, Ron, whatever you did, I'm sure she would still want you around..."

Ron gave a sigh that bordered on a groan, and threw an unamused glance at his father. "No, Hermione and I are fine. And thanks for assuming it's always me who messes up, by the way," it was his familiar tone of sarcasm, more than anything that let Arthur know that whatever it was that was bothering Ron, it wasn't something terrible. It was a relief; the everyday woes of young men, that was easier to deal with.

The older man let out a chagrined chuckle. "I'm sorry, son. I'm just curious about why you're up here. Must be quite some thoughts to keep you from fun and good food..."

Arthur left the last phrase hanging, letting his son know that he could open up to him about whatever it was that bothered him. Ron seemed to be considering this choice, and was silent for a while. Then he pushed himself off the bed and sat beside Arthur, looking down at the floor. "Dad, have you ever done anything that's not... correct, but you know it's the right thing to do, because you're helping someone?"

The older Weasley grew pensive. "I'm sure I must have, at least once," he said, his voice completely honest, if not absolutely certain.

"So, how do I deal with it?" Expectant and hopeful to hear something that could help him, he looked up to catch his father's advice.

Arthur responded with a nonchalant movement of his head. "I guess that depends. Is it illegal?" Ron immediately responded in the negative. He didn't sound surprised that his father would ask such a thing; given Fred and George's antics and Arthur's own shed full of Muggle trinkets, they were not the poster family for upholding the law, as good as they were. The question was bound to come out at some point. Arthur nodded at that. "Then... are you hurting someone?"

That gave him pause, Arthur noticed. The older man watched his son, the expression on the young one's freckled face changing as he thought. Finally, he answered. "I'm not. Well, I don't think I am. I don't think it would..."

"All right," Arthur acknowledged that assertion, "then you have nothing to feel guilty about." He tried his best to be reassuring.

But Ron didn't seem to understand that conclusion. "But that's just it, Dad: I don't feel guilty. I mean, should I?" He sighed, obviously still confused. "But I don't. I just feel... awkward. Like, I don't know how to act around... certain people anymore."

Arthur sympathized. "The Erumpent in the middle of the room, eh?"

Ron nodded dejectedly. "Yeah." Looking up at Arthur again, he shrugged, not as expectant. "So, what do I do?"

The father thought about it for a few seconds, but then turned to his son, shaking his head. "I'm afraid I can't tell you, son. All I can say is, if you're really helping this person, well... that's what matters, really. Everything else will fall together around that." Ron contemplated this, and after a while nodded, accepting that his father's words held promise. Then Arthur stood up and gave him a pointed stare. "In the meantime, you can't keep avoiding everybody just because you feel awkward."

Ron chuckled as he sat up as well. "Sure I can. For a little while longer, at least."

Arthur shook his head at Ron's cheek, but laughed. "Perhaps find a different hiding place, then? You need to come down now, or your mother will have a fit. You can go back to avoiding everybody after she's had the photographs taken." He clapped his son's shoulder in a supportive gesture. "All the food is hidden in the kitchen, if that's an incentive." Ron laughed heartily. "Yeah, the kitchen sounds good." Together they walked out of the room with a slight hurry in their step, understandably hesitant to incur in Molly's wrath if they were late for the picture session.

--

Harry had to laugh at the pandemonium that was the Weasley's living room at the moment. George and Lee had taken command and had set up the entire room, where most of the younger crowd had been stationed previously, as a dance floor with a wave of their wands. Furniture had been shoved aside and people had been pulled up and into the centre of the room while the terrible two found all kinds of out-of-place music for the group to dance, that had everyone in stitches. Not even the birthday girl was safe from it, as he'd clearly seen Hermione being (very reluctantly) led around by Lee to the beat of that annoying "One More Time" muggle song that had become so unfathomably popular that had even invaded the Wizarding Wireless.

Having lost his girlfriend and all current conversation partners to the swaying crowd, and having never been one for dancing, he discreetly made his way outside (read: he ran for it), lest he be dragged into the craziness as well. He went on to the dinner table, picked up some pumpkin juice and a small second helping of Molly's delicious lunch menu, and continued on to go sit on the picket fence that was the limit of the back yard.

From that point he could see the Weasleys' house in its entirety. This new, Ministry-issued house didn't have the same feel the old one had, hence why no one could bring his or herself to call it The Burrow anymore. It was simply a different place. For one, Bill, Charlie and George no longer lived there, and Fred, well... he, uh, wasn't around anymore (he cringed as he thought this), so neither of them had rooms there anymore. Ron had one, though he had moved out to share a flat with Harry and Hermione, and Ginny had one as well. Both their rooms and the master bedroom were not as large as they were at The Burrow, so there was no need for the structure to be as lopsided as it had been back there (though, if he cocked his head just the right way... perhaps...). There was no orchard, no chicken coop, the broom shed was considerably smaller, and the pond was now located outside the property limits. Still, it was home for the Weasleys, and that made it a home for him, as well. It may not be The Burrow, but it was a good place to be in.

He was so wrapped up in his musings that he didn't notice Hermione coming up to stand beside him. She greeted him, then moved to sit on the fence as well. She was panting lightly; all the excitement had left her out of breath. "So, having fun?" he asked her, offering her a sip of his pumpkin juice.

She politely declined. "I am, actually," she said with a big smile. Harry was very glad to hear that. "It was certainly a big surprise."

Harry had to laugh at that. Imagine Hermione Granger having no clue about something! It was a nearly impossible feat, keeping it secret. For the past two weeks, he had lived entirely paranoid that someone would say something and spoil the surprise. He was happy that it had worked, and that she was enjoying it. "Well, that's what we were going for, so... happy birthday."

"Thanks," she gave him a light hug. She accepted his offer of a forkful of mashed potatoes, once she had caught her breath. The delicious morsel was the topic of conversation for a few minutes, as they observed the rest of the guests mulling around the yard. As her eyes settled on one person in particular, she mentioned, amused: "I can't believe you invited Viktor."

Harry's answer came entirely too fast, he knew. "Well, whether we like it or not, he's your friend, and he should be here."

"No, I mean that literally. I don't believe you invited Viktor. Molly did."

He mock groaned. Obviously she had figured out that Harry and Ron had been all too happy to let Mrs. Weasley handle things. "Alright, you caught us. But we did help, though! We gave ideas," he tried to sound as dignified as possible, but his chuckles made it hard to sound serious. So much for being 'the organizers' if the subject of the surprise party saw right through them so easily.

She laughed as well. "I'm sure you did, Harry," she said, not really sounding like she believed him at all. "It's okay, though. I rather prefer that she did most of this-- she's better at it than you are. And you guys are busy, I understand. You know I wouldn't want you to slack on your training and use me as an excuse, anyway. It's the intention that matters. I was half expecting one of you to forget, to be honest. But you guys at least tried, and I'm thankful for that."

Harry made absolutely sure that no word of Ron's absenteeism in the past week left his lips. So he was a little resentful that Ron had happily dumped all of the work on him and skipped off to study (ok, all of what little work Molly hadn't taken over, that is). Still, no need to put Hermione on his case for such a silly issue, and no need to bring Hermione down on her birthday either. If it made her happy to think that they'd both worked equally on making her surprise party a success, then he had no problem covering for Ron. He was all about avoiding confrontation. "Always nice to hear how highly you think of us," he commented, dryly.

"I find it's better to keep the bar low and be pleasantly surprised," she quipped, teasing.

"Speaking of surprises, did you like our present?" Thinking that they could never go wrong with Hermione and books, Harry and Ron had decided to give her a very rare book on international legislations. They had arranged for one of his mainland contacts to get it for them-- that one copy wasn't even in English. He doubted a copy in English even existed (the original manuscript was apparently charmed to resist translation spells. Cheers to paranoid authors).

"Like it? I read through half of it during breakfast!" The excitement made Hermione's eyes glint like only the prospect of a good book could do. Her gaze quickly went wide-eyed, though. She took a hand to her mouth in dismay. "Oh, Merlin, how horrible am I? With all this insanity I forgot to thank you both. I'm sorry, Harry. I really loved it, thank you."

Harry waved the apology off. "Don't mention it. You've been busy, obviously," he grinned at her, pointing towards the house. Most of their young friends were starting to come out to the backyard, much as they had. That was a sure sign that a) the dance mania was starting to wind down, or b) the Wireless had gotten stuck. It was known to happen. It must've gotten stuck on a really hideous song, though, given this mass exodus.

"Still, it completely slipped my mind. I guess I should go mention it to Ron, as well," she said, hopping down from the fence and discreetly making sure to check if there was any paint residue on her pants. She looked at her wristwatch and mentioned that it was nearly time for her birthday cake, according to Molly. They should start heading back inside.

"He hasn't asked you about it?" asked Harry, carefully taking one last bite of that delicious buttery dish (he'd have to ask Molly for the recipe, it was absolutely mouth-watering). It didn't seem like Ron not to brag about how well-received his gift was. Even if technically Harry had been the one to get it.

"No, he didn't mention it on the way here and I haven't talked to him since the big surprise," Hermione replied absentmindedly. She was staring in Hannah Abbott's direction-- the blonde seemed to be hurriedly waving at the two of them, trying to get their attention. She was grinning brightly. "Do you think cake is all ready?" Hermione asked him, curious about Hannah's obvious excitement.

"I don't think that's about cake," Harry replied, wearing a similarly curious expression.

"Hermione! Harry!" Hannah exclaimed from the opposite side of the yard. "George fixed the Wireless! One last piece! Come on!" She gave them one last "hurry!" wave. Hermione replied back that they'd be right there, and then Hannah all but bounced back towards the house. They both couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm.

Harry, however, had not missed that "we" in her reply, and was now trying to skilfully divert the conversation towards a topic that could hopefully make her forget about Hannah's announcement and keep away the possibility of him embarrassing himself on the Weasleys' improvised dance floor. "You really haven't Ron since the surprise?" he asked, getting off from the fence as well. He was doubtful at her negative. "That's odd. Did you have a fight on the way here?"

She rolled her eyes in an all-too-familiar gesture, and pulled his plate right out of his hands as he took the last of the pumpkin juice to his lips. "No, we did not," she replied matter-of-factly. "And also, there is no 'way here.' Apparition is instantaneous." She playfully hit his arm when he muttered something about Professor Flitwick having grown taller and prettier since the last time they met ("Oi, it was a compliment, I swear!"). Then she proceeded to demonstrate her knowledge of charms that he had supposedly "complimented" her on by vanishing the plate and his glass towards the kitchen sink. "I don't see why everybody keeps asking that," she added, pensive. It seemed the status of her and Ron's relationship was the focus of every conversation that day.

"It is sort of your modus operandi," Harry quipped in response. Hermione shoved him playfully for his cheek. "No, seriously, though," he shrugged at her. "It is your birthday. If he disappears on you today of all days, well, you've got to admit it's strange." He frowned as he finished speaking. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Ron since the big surprise either... and lunch had already come and gone...

She shook her head firmly. "Honestly, the fact that he's my boyfriend doesn't mean we have to spend every waking minute together," she asserted, arching her eyebrows as if to emphasize her point. "The fact that he's not hanging off me does not mean we're on the outs." She turned towards the house again. "Besides, just like you said, I've been busy," she finished the thought with a bright smile, pointing towards the guests much like Harry himself had just a few minutes ago.

Well, he had to give her that. He was still wondering about Ron, though. "I guess so... but I haven't seen him around all afternoon, either. It isn't like him to avoid a party." He looked up at the upper floor of the house, where he knew Ron's bedroom was, and tried to discern the tall redhead's presence somewhere. However, he knew it was only Ginny's window that he could actually see through from this angle; Ron's room was on the opposite side of the house. Had this been The Burrow, he might have been able to catch something through the topmost window right under the attic, but not in this house.

He turned to Hermione, still frowning. The only time he could remember Ron ever missing a party this big was the one in the Gryffindor Common Room after Harry finished the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament back in their fourth year-- and that was because he was mad at Harry himself. "Are you sure nothing happened between you two that could've upset him?" he asked, genuinely baffled.

Hermione gave it some deep thought, but then shook her head again. "No, not from my side at least," she concluded after going through the day in her mind. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the fence, looking at her dark-haired best friend. "I'm sure he's alright, Harry. He'll be around here somewhere, having fun," she added with a shrug and a wave towards the top windows of the house that Harry had just been glimpsing at.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he admitted it was probably just Ron being moody. It wouldn't be the first time. But, him being the good best mate that he was... "Still, I think I'm going to go look for him," he said, starting to walk across the yard so that he could walk around the house and go through the main entrance.

"Oh, no no no no," Hermione quickly moved to stop him, getting hold of the back of his shirt. "No you're not, Potter. If I'm going to be subjected to yet another frivolous pop beat, guess who's going to be my dance partner?" She gave him a pointed stare that could not be avoided.

Harry groaned. Crap, she'd figured out his ploy, he thought-- but of course she would. It's Hermione, figuring things out is what she does. "Oh, come on, Hermione..." he whined. So much for subtly moving the conversation away from dancing. She held onto his arm and, tsk-ing at him, proceeded to pull him in the opposite direction: towards the back entrance of the house. He couldn't exactly make a run for it now. "I'll step on your toes," he warned her. They both knew it was pretty much a fact (he was a really bad dancer, it was not an exaggeration), but his desperate tone also kind of made it sound like a threat.

"I'll brave through," she assured him with a smirk, her grip on his arm not slacking for even a second. Harry groaned yet again. Public humiliation, here we come.

--

It was a while after lunchtime, and Ron could be found at the kitchen table, contemplating if he should eat something. He'd spent the last hour or so trying to avoid his mother's family photograph session (among other things-- or rather people), and he'd been successful at it, but now his stomach had had enough of being ignored and demanded, quite loudly, to be fed.

Finally he decided to heed nature's call. After concluding that the food was not charmed to grow boils on the hands of anyone who tried to eat it (his mother's paranoia knew no bounds when it came to food), he helped himself to some roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, among some of his mother's best delicacies.

He never would've imagined it before, but a wizarding kitchen was actually quite a good place to think. Of course, it wasn't exactly peaceful and quiet, what with all the cling and clatter of the dishes as they washed themselves in the sink. Still, he wasn't exactly the sort that relished absolute silence. What mattered was that it was devoid of people-- nobody bothered coming in when they could just magic their plates in and out. It was actually quite the ideal setting for him to try and puzzle out his confusing thoughts.

He was doing the right thing. He was.

No, not ditching the party to hide from his girlfriend and his pretend girlfriend; that was probably not the bravest reaction in his repertoire. But helping Luna, well, he couldn't bring himself to think of that as something wrong. He'd told his father that he wasn't feeling guilty, and he really wasn't. In fact, he was sure Hermione wouldn't have a problem with it if he told her-- she'd probably even be proud of him for it.

He couldn't bring himself to tell Hermione, though... not because he was afraid she would be angry, but just because it would be awkward. And Ron Weasley was not a fan of awkwardness. He'd manage to say the wrong thing, of course, and everything would go to hell, all because he couldn't get rid of that nagging voice in his head that kept repeating that having two girlfriends (even if one was just pretend) was just WRONG.

He wanted to talk to someone, perhaps get some advice from a fellow bloke. His conversation with his dad, while it did ease his doubts a little, was not entirely helpful in the solution department. He would normally go to one of his friends, but they were all friends of both girls as well, so they may be a little too involved. And his brothers were likewise occupied-- George and Lee were caught up being the life of the party, Charlie was helping his mother with logistics, Bill was too busy catering to his very pregnant wife's every need, and there was no way he was going to talk to Percy about this. So he had clearly run out of options.

In the meantime, whenever he saw Hermione he was torn between treating her better than ever or running for the hills. Not to mention he was starting to get a funny lurch in his stomach whenever he was around Luna.

Blasted females! Even when things were going great with them (both of them), it all ended up a mess.

He was very tempted to repeatedly bang his head against the wooden table. His plate was directly in front of him, though, and it would be a crime to waste such good mashed potatoes. His mother had really outdone herself this time. No, he had to find a more productive solution...

Alright. He was going to tell Hermione. He was going to do it.

"You're going to do what, Ronald?"

He immediately tensed, thinking that he may bang his head against the table after all. Of course, this was just his luck: he'd seemingly made his decision and at that very moment, the one person who could make him change his mind had all but waltzed into the kitchen. "Oh, uh, h-hullo, Luna," he stammered in his surprise, the tips of his ears going red in embarrassment at being caught talking to himself. "Eh, 'twas nothing, really. Just... thinking out loud," he admitted.

"Yes, I find that is usually very helpful," she said in her typical airy tone, pausing for two seconds in front of him before turning towards the sink. Of course she would agree with talking to oneself, Ron thought. Hence why people insist on calling her "Loony."

She then proceeded to open the cabinets under the sink and peer in there, like she was looking for something. Probably some sort of funny little critter that, knowing her, likely didn't really exist. He almost opened his mouth to inquire about it-- almost. By now, he knew better than to ask. "So, um, how are you liking the party?" he tried to make normal small talk, like she didn't have her head stuck under his mother's sink.

"Oh, it's been lovely," she replied, her light voice echoing inside the cabinet she was presently searching through. "I haven't been able to catch a Buzzing Wishwasp. They live in the balloons, you know," she said, then paused for a second. Something rattled, down where she was searching. "But the dancing has been rather fun," she continued speaking after the rattling calmed down. Ron nodded absently at her words... and then he noticed he was actually nodding to her backside. He reflexively looked away, clearing his throat even though he hadn't actually said anything. Carefully avoiding looking at her, he finished up the last of his lunch and picking up his plate and cutlery, intended to leave them in the sink so they could get cleaned-- only he couldn't, of course, because she was right there.

He stood there for a while, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. Luna, of course, was not bothered from her quest at all. It was only a couple minutes later that she finally drew back from the cabinet and stood up. Without really looking at Ron (or anything else in particular) she stepped to the side to let him pass. "I remember Ginny telling me that you don't much like to dance," she commented vaguely as he deposited his eating utensils in the "in" pile, making sure that the enchanted sponge wouldn't get him wet.

He had to remind himself that she had brought up the topic of dancing before. "Huh? Oh, yeah, that's right," he mumbled as he stepped away to get some pumpkin juice.

Her nebulous gaze followed him across the kitchen. "Is that why you've been hiding all day?"

He coughed, caught off-guard by her question. He'd hoped his parents had been the only ones to notice him missing. "Hiding? I haven't been..." he started denying it, but then realized the words sounded rather stupid anyway. And she'd given him a perfect out, so... "Actually, yeah. Yeah, that's it. The dancing," he nodded at her, throwing in what he hoped was a sheepish smile. "I'm just really bad at it," he added, with a slightly nervous chuckle. Thankfully, his companion did not seem to notice the nervous bit.

"I wonder if it's a friends thing?" she spoke the thought out loud. Ron had no idea what she meant, of course, until she elaborated. "Harry, too, avoided the dance floor for a while. Of course, in the end Hermione pulled him in for the last dance."

Ron grinned, amused at the prospect of his two best friends dancing. Hermione obviously browbeat Harry into it, there was no way he would voluntarily participate in such an activity. After the Yule Ball in their fourth year, he was pretty much traumatized for life. He wondered how many times Hermione had uttered "Honestly, Harry!" under her breath and how many times Harry had apologized throughout that one song. "Really? I would've paid good money to see that," he said, laughing. "She's having fun then? Hermione, I mean," he clarified as he sat back down on his seat at the table. All they wanted was for Hermione to have a nice time on her birthday. He cringed a little at the thought that he hadn't been around to share it with her, but it was for the best... hopefully.

Luna nodded as she walked around the room, pausing to stare at the different spells acting here and there like she'd never seen something like them before. "I think she is," she said, looking up at the junction between the wall and the ceiling like she could see something immensely interesting there. "She's very lucky to have you do this for her," she added, almost like an afterthought.

It was that afterthought that hit Ron more than anything else, though. He swallowed hard. Yep, there it was, that funny vertigo-like feeling in his stomach that he was getting often these past few weeks. He would later attribute it to his mother's gravy, of course. "Uh, I guess that's--"

"Luna?" came a voice from outside the kitchen. A male voice. "Luna, where-- oh, there you are!" It was then that Dean Thomas popped his head into the room. He smiled at her as she turned to greet him. "Hey. Hagrid just arrived with the cake. Come on, you don't want to miss it..." His voice had gone a lot softer as he spoke to her.

Dean grabbed her hand and was about to pull her out of the kitchen when he finally noticed they weren't alone. "Oh, hi, Ron," he nodded his head at his friend and former roommate. Ron nodded back and replied in kind. The dark-skinned man had intertwined his fingers with Luna's. "Hey, where have you been, mate?" Dean wondered, curious. "Did you have a fight with Hermione or something? You've been missing in action all day." Luna also looked at Ron, mildly expectant of his answer.

"Hermione and I are fine," Ron almost cut him off. Dean was a little taken aback by the sudden harshness in Ron's voice, but the redhead felt he was entitled-- by now he was just sick of everybody assuming things about his relationship. It had been okay when his dad asked, because it was out of concern, but Dean? He had no business in any of it. "I just wanted to have lunch by myself. That's not a crime now, is it?"

Dean shook his head, not sure where the confrontational tone came from, but wanting to avoid it. "No, of course not, man. Whatever you like," he said, conciliatory, then turned to Luna. "We really should get going, though," Dean continued, nodding towards the kitchen door.

"Go. Dance. Be merry," said Ron, still in that clipped tone. He even waved a hand toward the door.

Dean leaned close to Luna's ear. "Weird," he muttered to her, clearly insinuating that Ron had just lost a few marbles. Luna remained as aerial as usual. Ron couldn't actually hear him, but he just knew what was said, and he could feel himself going red (whether in anger or embarrassment, he didn't know). "See you later," Dean said. Luna in turn waved lightly at Ron and let herself be led outside by her friend.

Ron was acutely aware of Dean's hand softly pressing on the small of Luna's back. And that funny twist in his stomach was starting to feel more like a sharp, forceful tug now.

He found himself glaring at their backs as they walked out. He remained in that position until they were lost from his field of vision. And it was only then that he noticed what he was doing; he shook his head as if to clear it. Okay, that was odd. He had no idea what had just come over him. Surely since he'd eaten out of hours, that had left him off-balance. Probably just indigestion or something.

He didn't know why, but banging his head against the table was sounding like a spectacularly swell idea right about then.

Cake. He had to make an appearance at the party.

--

"...For she's a jolly good fellow... and so say all of us!"

Hermione blushed a little at the cheering and then leaned in to blow out the candles. She was stopped by a light tug on her hair, and she looked up to see Teddy squirming in Harry's arms. She laughed and took hold of the boy, then they excitedly leaned in so Teddy could blow out her twenty candles. Of course, they wouldn't ever go out-- George and Lee had made sure of that-- but nobody could be mad about it since it proved to be such a pure source of entertainment for the currently orange-haired little guy.

After Molly tugged on George's one ear so much that he'd given up on the classic birthday prank, the (rather large) cake was spirited back to the kitchen so it could be served. Ron was almost trampled by it as he walked out of the room at that very moment. "Hi," he said, coming up to stand beside Hermione as the crowd dissipated.

She nodded to Susan Bones, who had just asked her something, then turned to Ron. "Oh! There you are," she exclaimed, a bit surprised at his presence. "Where were you? Everybody's been asking about you," she added, feeling it was worth mentioning that his mother was bound to be murderous as he hadn't been there for the family pictures.

Ron was well aware of what he had coming, and didn't want to dwell on it until his mother finally caught him. "Uh, yeah, sorry. I wasn't feeling very well-- bit of a headache," he made up an excuse on the spot.

She frowned at him, a bit worried. "Sorry to hear that. I'm sure your mother has some pepper-up potion around here, in case you want some." She had been sure he was somewhere in the party and they just hadn't coincided in the right place. She hadn't actually thought that he could be feeling ill. She ought to be feeling sheepish about that.

He brushed off her concern. "Nah, it's alright. 'M all better now. Cake makes everything better," he quipped with a grin.

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Of course it would." She paused, her smile disappearing to give way to a slightly uncertain expression. "Um, Ron..." she started. "You aren't... I didn't say something that made you... upset, did I?" she finally managed to ask. She didn't think there was a problem, but so many people had asked her that today, that she almost felt she had to ask, just to be on the safe side.

Ron was honestly surprised by the question. "What? No, you didn't..." he started to answer, but it was now his time to pause as a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, you're not... mad at me, are you?" he asked in turn, starting to feel a little apprehensive.

Hermione replied quickly, before alarms started going off on the young man's mind. "No! No, I'm not mad."

He almost let out a relieved sigh. "Okay... so we're alright, then?" he asked, hopeful.

"Yeah, we're alright," Hermione assured him. Yes, there was no problem. Okay, glad that was over.

Seamus Finnigan strutted up to them. "He-hey! If it isn't the lovebirds!" His grin was way too wide-- sure sign that he'd hit the Fire Whiskey a little too hard. "Where ye been, Weasley, my man? Thought you'd be stuck to your girl's side all day..." he added, putting an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"He wasn't feeling well," Hermione explained, her tone letting Seamus know that she didn't mind Ron's absence.

The Irish lad "psh"-ed at that. "But it's her birthday! You couldn't make an effort, you cad?"

Ron snorted. "Alcohol makes you an ass, Finnigan."

"Yes, it does," Seamus nodded theatrically at Ron's comment, making Hermione sway into the motion as well. "But at least I accept it," he continued as Hermione laughed. "You two, on the other hand... there's something fishy here. You haven't been seen together once in the whole day. Did you children have a fight?" he asked, with that "so, tell me your problems" fake-shrink voice he thought made him sound so smooth.

"There's nothing fishy here. We're fine," Ron declared, emphasizing the last word for the benefit of Seamus' sloshed brain.

"Ron was just feeling a bit under the weather," Hermione repeated.

"'lright, if you say so," their friend conceded. "But yer feeling better right now, aye? So you two should be cuddlin' and snoggin' and doing all that mushy stuff couples do!" He clumsily tried to push the two together as he said these words. Ron managed to dodge his grasp but Hermione, who was already trapped, kept trying to swat him away like a mosquito.

"Gosh, Seamus! Quit it!" she exclaimed when she finally got him to let go. Great, her hair was a mess now. "Merlin, how much did you drink?" She shook her head at him. "I mean, it's not like we do those things all the time anyway!"

"But you love each other, right?" was Seamus' obvious retort. "You're not fighting?"

"We're not, but those things are private!" She was adamant to quiet down everybody's mutterings about her and Ron's relationship. She normally wouldn't give them a second thought, but it had happened so frequently today, she felt it was getting a little ridiculous.

Ron was conveniently quiet, except to agree with her. "She's right, we're very private," he added, in a practical tone. An unnecessary thing to add, but he said it anyway.

"If you haven't noticed, we're in a room full of people," Hermione continued her rant, like her boyfriend had never spoken. "And I'd rather not have our relationship become a spectacle for people to coo at, thank you very much. We're just not comfortable with it," she concluded, crossing her arms. She was sounding very much like Professor McGonagall, for some reason.

Ron nodded emphatically. "Yeah. I mean, we don't even do that at home!" he added, seemingly amused.

There was a note of sarcasm to his words that Seamus, in his tipsy state, might have missed, but Hermione certainly didn't. She turned to Ron, one questioning eyebrow raised. "Only because we're not alone there," she sentenced, a blatant warning in her tone.

Ron turned to her, his smile now clearly sardonic. "Oh, yes, Merlin forbid Harry ever see us kiss! I mean, it's not like he wasn't two feet away when we first did!" he shot back, his volume rising.

Hermione glared at him. "What are you trying to say?"

"What do you think I'm trying to say?"

"I think this isn't the right time or place to have this--"

A not-so-discreet cough interrupted their escalating argument. They both turned to Seamus; they'd almost forgotten he was still standing there. He in turn gave them a cynical look, complete with raised eyebrows. "Yeah, I can see you two love each other now more than ever!" His tone let them know he meant the complete opposite of what he'd just said. He shook his head at the twosome and decided to go hang out somewhere else-- preferably near where they kept the liquor.

Ron and Hermione glared at each other as he left. "Excuse me, I'm going to get some cake," she almost spat the words in a self-righteous tone, pushing him unceremoniously to the side as she started to make her way toward the kitchen.

"Fine!" Ron threw back at her, not willing to let her have the last word. Great, now he couldn't have cake himself! He turned his eyes upward, begging for patience. "I knew I should've stayed in my room today," he muttered to himself, and decided to go upstairs and look for a new hiding place.

Not-as-long and yet still pointless author notes--

About the year-long absence... ummm... I warned you? *eeps and hides*

In my defense, this chapter was supposed to be very much a filler chapter. I didn't have it planned as far as I had the rest of them. Of course, this particular line of defense then goes to hell because the chapter somehow ended up being longer than all the previous ones... *rolls eyes* Whatever. It's written now. Not my best work (I happen to love every scene Ron is in. The rest, not so much), but it's something. It took a year, but here it is! Hopefully you've enjoyed it.

Bad thing about writing about parties is you start losing track of who's been mentioned and who hasn't. I practically lived in and breathed the Lexicon as I was writing this-- I could not for the life of me remember who had died and who was still alive after DH... at least the minor characters, that is. *sigh* I definitely need to re-read that book. Was it ever stated that the Burrow was destroyed? If not, my apologies and let us assume it was, if only for this chapter. I don't think we'll be visiting the Weasley's place again in the future.

Little nerdy facts that only a geek like me would include in a fanfic (*gasp* only one this time around!):

--Britney Spears' song "...Baby one more time" was released in October 1998 in the United States but it didn't hit Europe until early 1999. It was the second biggest-selling single of the year, and it peaked at number one in the charts for every country it was released to, except Mexico (Teehee! Hurts, don't it?). Considering that the goddamn song was practically following me EVERYWHERE for a very annoying period that year, I don't think it's inconceivable that it would've even taken over the Wizarding Wireless by September.

Thank you so very much for your insightful reviews, you guys! I'm very happy with your nice comments as well as the constructive criticism, you have no idea how much that helps me. As it's been a year I didn't even bother counting reviews or hits, but I tried my best to reply to all of you. If I somehow missed you, I'm very sorry! Feel free to bonk me over the head for it. Also, feel free to ask questions, either through a review or at my fic LJ; I'll answer as best as I can, with as much as my plot allows me to say without giving away too much.

Some tidbits about the next chapter: Ron's cover starts slipping, and someone's going to figure things out. I'll be glad to read your speculations as to who that is. Also, we go back to the Draco and Ginny situation. And Neville makes his first big appearance! I have most of the chapter planned since a long time ago. Hopefully with the upcoming premiere of the HBP movie (which I'm so excited for!), my muse will decide to stick with this fic and it'll get done relatively soon. :) See you then! -Carla.