RW:GoF Ch.8
Previous chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7
Chapter Eight: The Yule Brawl
There were probably words to describe what exactly Ron Weasley thought when he saw Hermione Granger on Viktor Krum’s arm at the Hogwarts Yule Ball. However, they were well beyond him. He’d probably have to go digging through one of Hermione’s precious Ancient Runes texts to find them. He was sure the ancient Britons, or maybe the Celts had some archaic words to describe the unique mixture of emotions he was feeling. If he combined the Latin word for Shock with the Saxon word for Disbelief, added the consanats from the Gaelic word for Furious, and made a dipthong with the old Egyptian word for Completely and Utterly Defeated, it might cover about a quarter of what he was feeling.
Viktor Krum. International Quidditch Star. Tri-Wizard Champion. Rich, famous, eighteen, and smart enough to ask Hermione to the ball before him.
Wanker.
But it fit of course. Harry was a champion, so he belonged up there. And, if she couldn’t go with him, she had to go with someone else. Viktor Krum would have to do.
Hermione, go to the ball, with Ron? What was he thinking. She had seen the tilted house, the shabby clothes, that ruddy owl... He reached to scratch a loose thread on his sleeve...oh right, that. Yeah, quite a sight he and Hermione would have made. Her pretty blue dress would have gone nicely with his maroon dress.
Right. So, this Yule Ball business was supposed to be fun. Whoever thought it was supposed to be fun should have made sure that Ron got a different set of robes, and made sure that Ron went to a different Yule Ball, preferably one without living legends and international Quidditch Stars who were being escorted by brown haired witches with normal sized teeth and pretty blue robes.
***
Dancing was not supposed to be fun. Dancing was something boys were made to do against their will by tittering girls who loved flowers and lip gloss and all that rot. Since when was Hermione one of those girls? And why in Merlin’s name did Viktor Krum look like he was ENJOYING dancing? Didn’t the bloke know that dancing was something girls made you do? Obviously one to many bludgers to the head if he was enjoying dancing.
What was Hermione thinking, leaving him like this. She was always so keen on “helping” when Ron was enjoying some well earned time off, going on and on about “deadlines” and “due tomorrow.” Now, when he needed her most, to rescue him from a problem far worse than a Binn’s quiz on the Goblin Rebellions of the 16th Century, she was out dancing with Krum. A real friend, that one.
“How’s it going?” Harry asked Ron.
Was someone talking to him? Couldn’t they see he was busy right now? A man plotting the death of an International Quidditch Star couldn’t very well be bothered to make small talk. No, not when there were logistics about burials and weapons disposals to be coordinated.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand.
Hot, here? No. Now the inside of Krum’s cabin aboard the Durmstrang Ship, that would be hot. After Ron had set the fire and trapped that thick browed, duck footed tosser inside.
“Viktor’s just gone to get some drinks.”
So, she’d come to throw it all in his face, hadn’t she. Show him just how worthless he was compared to a guy like Krum. Well, Ron Weasley may be a poor, worthless wizard, but he sure as heck wasn’t going to get shown up again. This situation called for the famous Weasley Wit.
Ron gave her a withering look. “Viktor?” he said. “Hasn’t he asked you to call him Vicky yet?”
...
...bugger...
...maybe picking a battle of wits with the brightest witch of her age was a bad idea...
“What’s up with you?” she said.
Clever question. Good thing he had a good answer prepared.
“If you don’t know,” said Ron scathingly, “I’m not going to tell you.”
Yeah, that’ll tell her...bugger...time for some quick thinking or he’d be on the losing end of this one.
“Ron, what - ?”
“He’s from Durmstrang!”
...what?
“He’s competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts!”
...ok, good one Weasley, there’s hope yet...
“You - you’re -”
...come on mate, think of something!
“fraternizing with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!”
...ok...not bad...let’s just see what the all-knowing Hermione Granger does with that one!
“Honestly - who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who’s got a model of him up in their dormitory?”
...oh...right then...
“He’s Karkaroff’s student, isn’t he? He knows who you hang around with...He’s just trying to get closer to Harry - get inside information on him - or get near enough to jinx him - “
Ron knew the moment he said that that it was uncalled for. He had officially questioned Hermione’s loyalty to Harry. Even Ron knew that it was absolute and unwavering, probably more solid that his own. After all, she hadn’t turned her back on him when his name came out of the Goblet. Ron had done that all on his own. And she had been the go-between during those awful weeks when he and Harry weren’t speaking. And now, here he was saying that Hermione was undermining Harry. Well, he’d gone and done it now. He could try to navigate his way to some safe ground in the fight, but the inevitable had happened yet again. Ron Weasley had lost another argument to Hermione Granger.
“Are you going to ask me to dance at all?”
Was someone still talking to him? Couldn’t they see he was in the middle of losing an argument? Honestly, some people had no manners.
***
As Ron came into the Common Room, he was just in time to see Hermione hurl away a discarded jumper and muffler from the chair by the fire.
“Hey, those are mine!”
Hermione looked over her sholder and gave him an indifferent look.
“I suppose they are. You know, most people wouldn’t leave such a mess where it could ruin someone else’s night. But then, I guess you’re not most people.”
“Hey, don’t blame me because that ruddy Ball was awful!”
“Oh, it was awful, was it Ron? It was awful to be able to have a break from studies once in a while? It was awful to have a nice boy notice that I’m a girl and treat me to a wonderful evening? It was awful to dance and enjoy good food and stay up late? No, I suppose that was awful.”
She was getting worked up. Ron could sense one of Hermione’s famous explosions coming. Unfortunately, since she had walked into the Great Hall in her pretty blue robes on the arm of Viktor Krum, Ron had been having some trouble stringing coherent thoughts together, else he might have found a way to defuse the ticking time bomb in front of him.
“You’re right Ron, I had an awful evening. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that one of my best friends was moping in the corner all evening, refusing to enjoy himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that you weren’t making any sense, going on and on about ‘fraternizing with the enemy.’ It couldn’t have had anything to do with the fact that I was accused of betrying my other best friend. No, certainly can’t see how that would relate to anything.”
“Well...I wasn’t the one who...”
“Who what Ron?” She stamped her foot and placed her hands on her hips. Sadly, Ron knew from experience that this wasn’t playful banter anymore. She was full on mad at him. He couldn’t really blame her either.
“I just...”
“What Ron? What?” She had her hands out and was nearly pleading with him.
“I DIDN’T LIKE YOU BEING THERE WITH HIM!” he wasn’t quite sure why he yelled. Maybe it was just to match her. But he knew that now that it was out, he couldn’t take it back.
“Well if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Next time there’s a ball, aask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!”
Terrific, Harry had to chose that exact moment to walk in. Absolutely perfect. He had to come up with a response.
“Well, well - that just proves - completely missed the point -”
Yeah, right.
Chapter Eight: The Yule Brawl
There were probably words to describe what exactly Ron Weasley thought when he saw Hermione Granger on Viktor Krum’s arm at the Hogwarts Yule Ball. However, they were well beyond him. He’d probably have to go digging through one of Hermione’s precious Ancient Runes texts to find them. He was sure the ancient Britons, or maybe the Celts had some archaic words to describe the unique mixture of emotions he was feeling. If he combined the Latin word for Shock with the Saxon word for Disbelief, added the consanats from the Gaelic word for Furious, and made a dipthong with the old Egyptian word for Completely and Utterly Defeated, it might cover about a quarter of what he was feeling.
Viktor Krum. International Quidditch Star. Tri-Wizard Champion. Rich, famous, eighteen, and smart enough to ask Hermione to the ball before him.
Wanker.
But it fit of course. Harry was a champion, so he belonged up there. And, if she couldn’t go with him, she had to go with someone else. Viktor Krum would have to do.
Hermione, go to the ball, with Ron? What was he thinking. She had seen the tilted house, the shabby clothes, that ruddy owl... He reached to scratch a loose thread on his sleeve...oh right, that. Yeah, quite a sight he and Hermione would have made. Her pretty blue dress would have gone nicely with his maroon dress.
Right. So, this Yule Ball business was supposed to be fun. Whoever thought it was supposed to be fun should have made sure that Ron got a different set of robes, and made sure that Ron went to a different Yule Ball, preferably one without living legends and international Quidditch Stars who were being escorted by brown haired witches with normal sized teeth and pretty blue robes.
***
Dancing was not supposed to be fun. Dancing was something boys were made to do against their will by tittering girls who loved flowers and lip gloss and all that rot. Since when was Hermione one of those girls? And why in Merlin’s name did Viktor Krum look like he was ENJOYING dancing? Didn’t the bloke know that dancing was something girls made you do? Obviously one to many bludgers to the head if he was enjoying dancing.
What was Hermione thinking, leaving him like this. She was always so keen on “helping” when Ron was enjoying some well earned time off, going on and on about “deadlines” and “due tomorrow.” Now, when he needed her most, to rescue him from a problem far worse than a Binn’s quiz on the Goblin Rebellions of the 16th Century, she was out dancing with Krum. A real friend, that one.
“How’s it going?” Harry asked Ron.
Was someone talking to him? Couldn’t they see he was busy right now? A man plotting the death of an International Quidditch Star couldn’t very well be bothered to make small talk. No, not when there were logistics about burials and weapons disposals to be coordinated.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand.
Hot, here? No. Now the inside of Krum’s cabin aboard the Durmstrang Ship, that would be hot. After Ron had set the fire and trapped that thick browed, duck footed tosser inside.
“Viktor’s just gone to get some drinks.”
So, she’d come to throw it all in his face, hadn’t she. Show him just how worthless he was compared to a guy like Krum. Well, Ron Weasley may be a poor, worthless wizard, but he sure as heck wasn’t going to get shown up again. This situation called for the famous Weasley Wit.
Ron gave her a withering look. “Viktor?” he said. “Hasn’t he asked you to call him Vicky yet?”
...
...bugger...
...maybe picking a battle of wits with the brightest witch of her age was a bad idea...
“What’s up with you?” she said.
Clever question. Good thing he had a good answer prepared.
“If you don’t know,” said Ron scathingly, “I’m not going to tell you.”
Yeah, that’ll tell her...bugger...time for some quick thinking or he’d be on the losing end of this one.
“Ron, what - ?”
“He’s from Durmstrang!”
...what?
“He’s competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts!”
...ok, good one Weasley, there’s hope yet...
“You - you’re -”
...come on mate, think of something!
“fraternizing with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!”
...ok...not bad...let’s just see what the all-knowing Hermione Granger does with that one!
“Honestly - who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who’s got a model of him up in their dormitory?”
...oh...right then...
“He’s Karkaroff’s student, isn’t he? He knows who you hang around with...He’s just trying to get closer to Harry - get inside information on him - or get near enough to jinx him - “
Ron knew the moment he said that that it was uncalled for. He had officially questioned Hermione’s loyalty to Harry. Even Ron knew that it was absolute and unwavering, probably more solid that his own. After all, she hadn’t turned her back on him when his name came out of the Goblet. Ron had done that all on his own. And she had been the go-between during those awful weeks when he and Harry weren’t speaking. And now, here he was saying that Hermione was undermining Harry. Well, he’d gone and done it now. He could try to navigate his way to some safe ground in the fight, but the inevitable had happened yet again. Ron Weasley had lost another argument to Hermione Granger.
“Are you going to ask me to dance at all?”
Was someone still talking to him? Couldn’t they see he was in the middle of losing an argument? Honestly, some people had no manners.
***
As Ron came into the Common Room, he was just in time to see Hermione hurl away a discarded jumper and muffler from the chair by the fire.
“Hey, those are mine!”
Hermione looked over her sholder and gave him an indifferent look.
“I suppose they are. You know, most people wouldn’t leave such a mess where it could ruin someone else’s night. But then, I guess you’re not most people.”
“Hey, don’t blame me because that ruddy Ball was awful!”
“Oh, it was awful, was it Ron? It was awful to be able to have a break from studies once in a while? It was awful to have a nice boy notice that I’m a girl and treat me to a wonderful evening? It was awful to dance and enjoy good food and stay up late? No, I suppose that was awful.”
She was getting worked up. Ron could sense one of Hermione’s famous explosions coming. Unfortunately, since she had walked into the Great Hall in her pretty blue robes on the arm of Viktor Krum, Ron had been having some trouble stringing coherent thoughts together, else he might have found a way to defuse the ticking time bomb in front of him.
“You’re right Ron, I had an awful evening. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that one of my best friends was moping in the corner all evening, refusing to enjoy himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that you weren’t making any sense, going on and on about ‘fraternizing with the enemy.’ It couldn’t have had anything to do with the fact that I was accused of betrying my other best friend. No, certainly can’t see how that would relate to anything.”
“Well...I wasn’t the one who...”
“Who what Ron?” She stamped her foot and placed her hands on her hips. Sadly, Ron knew from experience that this wasn’t playful banter anymore. She was full on mad at him. He couldn’t really blame her either.
“I just...”
“What Ron? What?” She had her hands out and was nearly pleading with him.
“I DIDN’T LIKE YOU BEING THERE WITH HIM!” he wasn’t quite sure why he yelled. Maybe it was just to match her. But he knew that now that it was out, he couldn’t take it back.
“Well if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Next time there’s a ball, aask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!”
Terrific, Harry had to chose that exact moment to walk in. Absolutely perfect. He had to come up with a response.
“Well, well - that just proves - completely missed the point -”
Yeah, right.