Balancing Debts: Chapter 2
A/N Succinct version: Hated Jo's ending, my Hermione's middle name is Jane, dislike several Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione are fated in my opinion.
A/N: Once again, the Deathly Hallows film's imminent release has started to depress me. I had originally considered Balancing Debts complete, but someone in a review asked for what happened when they met up with Ron. Somehow I ended up writing this. I started with the line, "I'm not yours" and the rest built up around it. Ostensibly, this takes place in the 7th book, not long after the events of Chapter 1. Harry and Hermione are already together and Hermione misses Ron not one bit, so she was available to help Harry retrieve the sword of Gryffindor. I don't remember all the details from the book and don't want to look for a copy so I may have some Canon inaccuracies - such is life. Politely point out any other mistakes, please.
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Ron stuck his head through the flap of the tent. He had thought to let Herms stew in her lovesick way a while longer, but his mum had a point. Leaving two teens alone in a tent, especially two teens that were naturally complementary and secretly fancied one another (of that he was sure) was a recipe for failure for their One Big Happy Weasley Family. Plus, Ginny would kill him if Harry got away when it was Ron's job to make sure that didn't happen.
He looked around the room and spotted Hermione puttering about in the kitchen. He admired her backside with a lecherous leer. She had certainly come a long way from the boorish bookworm, with awful hair and humungous teeth. Well, she was still a bookworm, but she was much easier on the eye. He didn't love her, but ever since she had been petrified, he got the feeling that Harry and Hermione had gotten closer, more in sync. Naturally, he was jealous as Harry always seemed to get everything, but not this time.
Harry Potter, prince of the wizarding world, fantastically wealthy, so handsome that every girl at Hogwarts had a poster or picture of him near their bed. Of course Ron was jealous, putting up with hand-me-down robes, books and even a wand, how could he not be. Sure Potter had ratty muggle clothes, but he had heard from Bill how large the Potter account was. Once Ginny had Harry, Ron could use the Potter fortune to buy everything he ever wanted, and Hermione could spend the rest of her productive years bringing more Weasleys into the world. He smiled at the thought of Hermione, hugely pregnant and using all her vaunted smarts to cook his meals, rub his feet, and wash and iron his clothes. Emboldened by the image of her meekly submitting to him, he strode confidently toward the kitchenette.
"Back so soon?" queried Hermione without turning to face the red-headed deserter. "Harry and I wondered whether you'd work up the nerve to come back; though, I still maintain you didn't do it willingly.
Ignoring the fact that Hermione had even spoken, Ron strode right up to her and with a large patronizing smile loudly said, "I came back to get you, Herms. Where's Harry? I want to let him know that you won't be coming back." He smiled in a slimy Slytherin sort of way.
She turned to face him, her face appearing stern and annoyed. "And what, exactly, do you mean by that, Ron? I'm not going anywhere without Harry." She stated with the same certainty that one would state that water is wet.
Ignoring her once again he glanced around, and then he blithered on. "So Harry finally ran out on you too, huh? Figures - never could depend on him to back a bloke up, let alone some girl.
At that, Hermione well and truly bristled. "Ran out on me? Ran out on me!" she was furious. "If anyone can be accused of running out on his friends, it would be you, Ron Weasley. Twice you've deserted Harry, two bloody times! Harry would NEVER run out on me, which is more than I can say about SOME people. And if you think I'm going anywhere with you, then you have another think coming to you." She crossed her arms and scowled at the moRon in front of her with delusions of adequacy.
"Now Herms," he started in a placating tone he copied from Dumbledore, but he chose a rather bad time to try and use a nickname for Hermione.
"Don't you 'Herms' me! My name is Hermione Jane Granger! Hermione to my friends… does that include you?
Ignoring her question, he wondered aloud, "Jane?"
Blowing a strand of hair away from her eyes, she answered, clearly perturbed. "I evidently smudged my name when signing up for my O.W.L.s and it snowballed until almost everyone thinks my middle name is Jean." She said in a grumpy tone.
"Heh, I like it. Now I know something Harry doesn't," he gloated.
"Hardly, Harry asked me my middle name first year. In fact, the day we got our O.W.L. results, after you'd left the room, he asked me why the parchment said Jean." She smirked. "Nobody knows me better than Harry."
"Come off it, Herms. You know you want to be with me. If I'd stuck around the tent just a little bit longer, you know you'd have come with me."
"Like Hell! In a choice between you and Harry, well, there really is no contest. I'll choose Harry EVERY time. No question." She looked so very resolute that it was beginning to piss Ron off.
"I could see the indecision in your eyes, the longing. I know you wanted to choose me. You're mine; you just haven't realized it yet…" A cruel smile wore smugly upon his face. Victory and violence flashed behind his yes and he reached for her hand as if to grab her and pull her to him. She stepped back out a reach.
"But I'm not yours, Ron."
"Oh yes you are. I chose you. Now be a good girl and come with me"
Anger was shimmering in her eyes.
"You can't own me, Ron Weasley."
"Not the slavery and S.P.E.W. routine again!"
She smirked evilly. "Not at all. The reason you can't own me is because I'm spoken for. I belong to him," and she pointed a finger over his shoulder.
Ron Weasley whirled around to face his adversary only to find no one there. He spun back around to impress upon Hermione that he did not appreciate being made a fool of. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to glance behind and saw Harry's head floating in mid-air. He looked furious.
Harry clocked Ron in the jaw with a right cross and Ron's world exploded into stars.
Clutching his face, Ron staggered forward and bumped into Hermione.
Focusing all her anger and resentment, from the ridicule and verbal abuse she had suffered, Hermione drove her knee into Ron's bollocks. He literally rose up off the ground from the force of the blow, and suddenly, the pain in his jaw seemed inconsequential when compared to the waves of pain radiating from his abused tackle. Amazed that he was still standing, Hermione leaned in close and in a fairly seductive voice loudly asked, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?" She followed up with another quick knee shot to the family jewels. A sickening squishing sound followed and the redhead fell to the ground bawling like a baby with tears leaking from his eyes.
Hermione stepped over the pitiful excuse for a man and walked into her man's open arms. He wrapped them both up in the invisibility cloak and the both started to move away, but Hermione halted their exit just before they reached the door. She yelled from the open doorway, "Enjoy it, Ron. That's as close as you're EVER going to get to me willingly touching you."
Lying on the floor in a fetal position clutching his smashed equipment, he seethed in anger. This uppity little mudblood dared to lay hands on a pureblood like him. That Harry would betray him was pushed to the background as he focused his anger toward Hermione. She had been so easy to manipulate last year, and now it was almost as if she were her bitchy, third-year self again. Angry lines appeared on his face as he mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.
Hours later, Ron awoke in the clearing minus the tent; his wand laying snapped nearby. His ruined bollocks ached, and every little movement sent further daggers of pain shooting through him. He scowled as he looked around the wooded area until his eyes fell upon a piece of parchment close by that was held down by large piece of stone.
To the Idiot Known as Ron:
Harry and I have mutually decided to continue on our quest without you as we have come to the conclusion that you eat too much, don't contribute anything and quite frankly slow us down. Also, your behavior both past and present has thrown considerable doubt on your trustworthiness and we feel that the task ahead of us cannot even be considered unless all involved give 100% toward reaching the goal. I understand that you may not even know what we are referring to as you spent most of our planning and research time reading about quidditch, but rest assured that if we run into any giant chess sets we will strongly consider asking for your help once more.
Sincerely,
Mrs. Hermione Jane(sic) Potter and Mr. Harry James Potter
P.S. Come near my wife again and I will make the rollicking she gave your bollocks seem like love taps in comparison.
Signed,
Harry Potter: Hermione's Husband, He Who Takes on Trolls Barehanded, Fights Giant Basilisks with Only a Sword AND Wins, and the only known man to face snake face 5 times and live to tell about it.
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