What Happens When Ron's a Dick

Chapter One

AU where Lavender Brown survived the war. This takes place in the year after the Battle of Hogwarts, when everyone comes back to finish their schooling. 

The Gryffindor Common room was nearly deserted, save five people. Of them, Hermione Granger was the only person who didn't have another pair of lips attached to her own. The book clutched tightly in her hands was supposed to be a distraction, but it wasn't working. All she could think about way the way Ronald Weasley's arms wrapped around Lavender's waist, his lips eagerly mashing against hers. The two of them had claimed a window bench over an hour ago and hadn't moved from the spot since.

Hermione turned her attention back to her textbook. The high level arithmancy text seemed to her like gibberish strewn with diagrams that made no sense, and things that she normally understood with little effort were not coming as easily with the distraction at the windowsill. She gingerly closed the book and stowed it in her backpack, taking another cursory glance around the room to see if there was anyone available to make loud and disruptive conversation with.

Unfortunately, the only other people she saw were two halves of another happy couple, this one also including a Weasley. Ginny and Harry were entwined in one of the large, cushy armchairs by the fireplace, alternating between soft kisses and cooing at each other. Mildly disgusted, Hermione quietly stood from her study spot and padded up to the seventh year girls' dormitory that she shared with four others, two of whom were downstairs.

The next day in the Great Hall, Hermione sat next to Ginny, who was of course across the table from Ron. Ron, as per usual, had heaped a disgusting amount of food onto his plate, and Lavender beside to him seemed to be caught between admiration and alarm. Nevertheless, she made sure to keep her body touching his, a fact which Hermione was all too aware of.

"Hermione, why aren't you eating?" asked Ron with his eyes on her singular cherry tart. His eyes were full of what seemed to Hermione to be false concern.

"I... haven't had much of an appetite today," she replied. "I think I might be coming down with something." The first year to her right heard this and subtly moved a bit further away from her. "I should probably go see Madam Pomfrey." Hermione rose from the bench and prepared to extricate herself from the table.

"Hermione," said Ron. She stared at him, wide-eyed, almost as if a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. "If you're not going to eat that, can you pass it here?"

"Take whatever you please, Ronald," she said, her voice laced with resignation. Of course he was simply being his usual oblivious self, not at all concerned for her well-being. "I suppose I'll see you all in potions, then."

Ginny reached across the table and gave Hermione's hand a squeeze. "I hope you feel better, Hermione."

"Thanks, Gin." Hermione retreated from the Great Hall, walking with just a bit too much urgency through the huge double doors, down the empty (save for a pair of ghosts absorbed in conversation) hall, and into a spare classroom. Once inside, she slammed the door behind her and pressed her back against it, her eyes squeezed shut. She could feel the tears coming on, but refused to let them pass her eyelids. Nevertheless, as she sunk to the ground, a sob wracked her body and a gasp escaped her.

"Bloody hell, Granger. Haven't you ever heard of privacy?" Hermione's reddened eyes flew open. Sitting cross-legged on one of the desks was the one and only Draco Malfoy, staring right at her in her emotional and vulnerable state.

Hermione sniffed and dabbed below her eye with her sleeve. "Great. Just what I need. Verbal battery from an ex-Death Eater."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "If you wouldn't mind, I was here first." He gestured towards the door.

She bit her lip. "In case you haven't noticed, Malfoy, I'm not exactly ready to be seen by people at the moment. Notice the tears?" 

Her voice was shaky and seemed to take too much effort to use. Malfoy averted his eyes uncomfortably. "What, don't I count as people?"

Hermione let her eyes drift away from him apathetically. "No," she said hoarsely. "You don't."

"Right." He looked up at the ceiling as they sat there in silence for what seemed to him an eternity. When he could no longer take it, he opened his mouth again. "So why is the brightest witch of our generation crying on the floor of an abandoned classroom? I mean, it's got to be big if you can stand to be around a monster like me."

If looks could kill, the wastepaper basket would be completely unharmed due to its status as an inanimate object. Had it been directed at him, Draco would have been reduced to a pile of gibbering mush. "Why do you care? I really don't fancy my problems being spread like wildfire through Slytherin house, thanks."

"Oh, out with it, Granger. Is it Weasley? I hear he's been... very affectionate with his new girlfriend as of late." Malfoy's teasing tone did not bode well with Hermione. She turned her  murderous glare to him, causing his smirk to vanish. "Bloody hell, really?"

"Yes, really. If you must know, I had been under the impression that Ronald liked me up until about a week and a half ago. When the two of them were suddenly snogging in the common room." She paused for a second, now a little sad. "I suppose Weasley kisses mean just about jack shit in the end."

"I mean, Brown is pretty -- wait, did you just say kiss? Did you and Weasley--?" Draco broke off his sentence, seeming to think better of what he'd been about to say.

Hermione, however, was seeming to lose her reservations as to what was public and what was private. "During the battle last June."

Malfoy's eyes widened. "Well... good for you I suppose."

"Not really." Hermione gestured to her tear-stained face. "Look where it got me. Emotional hell, that's where."

"Right." After a pregnant pause, he spoke softly. "Sorry."

Hermione leaned forward onto her elbows. "So enough about me... why is the prince of Slytherin hiding in an abandoned classroom?"

Draco cringed. "I was hoping you weren't going to ask. If you must know, Granger, I'm hiding from Pansy."

Hermione laughed, then quickly covered her mouth to prevent any more from escaping. Once she had regained control of her diaphragm, she looked at the now slightly pink man in front of her. "Really? Oh, that's-- That's rich!"

"I'm glad you find my suffering amusing..." Draco trailed off, the tips of his ears burning red. Upon witnessing this phenomenon, Hermione was immediately reminded of Ron and how his ears turned red whenever he was mad or embarrassed... Her smile died as quickly as it had been born.

Draco looked at Hermione, who was lost in thoughts of jealousy. After a minute, he spoke.

"Granger."

Hermione looked at him. "What now?"

"I think there may be a way for us to both get what we want."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Do you trust me?"

Her reply was immediate. "Not in the slightest."

"That's fine. The more important question is this: how far would you being willing to go to make Weasley jealous?"

Hermione's eyes widened, realizing where he was going. "Are you suggesting that you and I--"

"Yes."

"Your reputation could take a serious hit."

"So could yours."

"We'd probably both lose friends."

"A double win for you if Scarhead stops talking to you."

"Draco, I actually like my friends. And I really don't like you."

Draco stood from his seat on top of the desk and crouched in front of her. "But you really, really like Weasley."

"And you really, really don't like Pansy, she replied.

Draco stood and extended a hand to Hermione. "What do you say, Granger? Would you care to be my fake girlfriend?"

Hermione stared at his hand. After a moment of mental debate, she hesitantly took it and allowed him to pull her up off the ground. "Why the hell not?"