A bit of a time skip. And there's an important note at the end.
Summary: Tension is running high for Ron.
Content warning: Ron-bashing type of remarks, including one about eating habits
Malfoy this, Malfoy that. Ron couldn't help but wonder if Harry was going off the deep end. Ever since the first Hogsmeade trip, which ended up with Katie Bell nearly being killed by a cursed necklace, he had been more adamant than ever that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. Sirius said it was possible, but his eyes were shadowed in doubt, so Ron thought it was safe to say Malfoy wasn't behind it.
Harry didn't agree. "He could've had an accomplice."
"Like who? Crabbe or Goyle?" Ron countered.
"Sirius' brother was made a Death Eater when he was sixteen. Why not Malfoy?" Harry persisted.
It drove Ron mad, but he tried not to take it out on him. Besides, there were other things on his mind.
They were situated in the greenhouse for Herbology when Hermione spoke up. "Slughorn's going to have a Christmas party, Harry, and there's no way you'll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come."
Harry let out a groan.
Ron's fists clenched around the pod he was trying to squeeze open. And there was one of the other things on his mind, the Slug Club. Slughorn rarely paid him any mind, instead choosing to focus on the Muggle-born that was, as Harry had put it, best in their year. Was it too much to ask to get a little bit of good recognition himself? In Transfiguration, when they had been attempting to nonverbally change a teacup into a gerbil, when Ron had succeeded in giving his a tail and fur, McGonagall had praised him. But that was one of the few times she acknowledged him. Not that Ron expected to hear someone like Snape say something positive.
"Ron? Ron!"
Ron jumped, his pod flying out of his hands. "What?"
Harry went to retrieve the pod. When he came back, he asked, "What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing important," Ron lied. "So what did you say?"
Harry eyed him in concern for a few seconds. "I asked if you wanted to come with me. Not that it makes much of a difference. You went with Hermione the first couple of times."
"Oh. Um, yeah. I do want to go with you."
"Great." Harry focused his attention on breaking open the pod and ended up shattering the bowl. "Reparo," he muttered, not looking at either his friends.
The rest of the lesson went by in silence. But Ron didn't mind. Maybe this was what they needed, a break from their worries.
Over the next few days, however, a new worry came forward. Those like their dormmates and Parvati and Lavender expressed their support at them finally attending the Slug Club together, but others came to their own conclusions as to why this would be the first time Harry would be taking his boyfriend.
Pity, most of them would say, was the reason. Harry was the Chosen One; he could choose — no pun intended — anyone to go with and he settled on Ronald Weasley?
"Better than Loony Lovegood," one boy whispered.
"Yeah, Potter wouldn't be loony enough to take her," another said, snickering.
Unfortunately for them, Ginny overheard and promptly put a stop to it.
And unfortunately for Ron, it wasn't just those discussing the Slug Club that were making snide remarks behind his back.
"I understand he'd want to make friends, but you'd think Potter would've ditched Weasley by now."
"Granger, I get. She's really smart. But Weasley? What does he bring to the table?"
"Horrible manners. Have you seen the way he eats?" This earned a laugh from several people.
The next time Ron ate, he was finished before he even made it halfway through his plate.
"Ignore them," Hermione said while Harry tried to urge him to eat to no avail. "Just ignore them."
That was all well and good, but pretending they weren't talking about him didn't mean they'd stop. And it also didn't make it any less hurtful. Ron's foul mood lasted throughout Quidditch practice until he accidentally punched Demelza Robins in the mouth.
Could this term get any worse? Ron thought miserably as Ginny snapped at him.
"This term somehow got worse," he muttered after yet another Quidditch practice where he had reduced Demelza to tears. She had been ecstatic to have made the team, and then Ron had to ruin her experience.
"We've all have bad days," said Lavender.
"I know. And I hate it. And everyone's singing that stupid song whenever I pass them."
"Have you tried telling Professor McGonagall? Maybe she can put a stop to it."
Ron laughed bitterly. "Oh, like she put a stop to it last year?" It wasn't like she hadn't heard it; the Slytherins hadn't been exactly quiet about it.
"Well, with Umbridge here, I don't think that would have gone well," Lavender pointed out.
Ron conceded this with a nod, but his stomach still twisted as he thought of Demelza's tear-stained face and Harry's clear disappointment in him. "Maybe I should just quit," Ron went on, burying his head in his hands. "I bet McLaggen would be pleased."
"Don't you dare!" Lavender exclaimed. "McLaggen's awful — and not just at Quidditch! He was bugging Hermione the other day."
Ron's head snapped up. "Wait, what?"
Lavender nodded, looking revolted. "Parvati thinks he gave up on pursuing Harry, so he moved on to Hermione — or maybe he always had his eye on her, I don't know."
"Puh-lease," Ron scoffed. "Hermione has standards."
"Try telling McLaggen that. Ugh!" Lavender shuddered. "If I were into guys, he'd be the last one in the school I'd date."
"The very last?" Ron said, thinking of Malfoy.
Lavender sent him an unamused look as if following his thoughts. "In Gryffindor."
Ron snickered. "Thanks."
"For what?"
"Just talking to me. Harry's a bit, um... preoccupied." With Draco Malfoy of all people.
"I've noticed you two hadn't been as cuddly as usual. What's that all about?" And while she really did sound curious in a concerned, non-gossipy way, Ron didn't think he could share the subject of his worries with anyone other than Hermione.
"It's complicated." To his relief, Lavender didn't push it.
"All right. You feel better now?"
"Yeah." For once, Ron wasn't lying.
"Good. Because I know you'll do great."
"Pretty lucky the weather's this good, eh?"
"Yeah," said Ron, who was still feeling a little worried. Although the talk with Lavender had definitely helped.
When they reached the changing room, Ginny and Demelza were already waiting. Ron tried to catch her eye, but Demelza kept her eyes on her reflection in the mirror as she put her hair up.
"Did you hear?" said Ginny, bringing Ron's attention away. "Vaisey and Malfoy aren't playing."
"What?" Ron winced as Harry swung around to face her. "Malfoy's not playing? Why not?"
"Sick. And Vaisey took a Bludger to the head during practice."
"So who's playing Seeker?" Ron asked, curious despite himself.
"Harper. He's in my year, and he's an idiot."
Ron began to change into his Quidditch robes. It was odd. Good weather, Malfoy and Vaisey, who was arguably Slytherin's best Chaser, not playing. Lucky, indeed. Wait...
He looked over at Harry. "Did you...?"
Harry raised an eyebrow as if he didn't know what Ron was referring to. But his eyes were gleaming.
"My pumpkin juice," Ron said slowly. "Hermione was mad at you earlier... you didn't...?"
Harry didn't confirm or deny it. "We'll be starting in about five minutes, you'd better get your boots on."
Perhaps Ron had imagined it. Perhaps it was all a coincidence. Perhaps Hermione had misunderstood what she saw. But when Ron saved not just one goal, but two, then three, and so on, it didn't matter. Gryffindor drew one hundred points ahead, and Harry was their best Seeker; there was no way he'd miss the Snitch.
"Well," said Zacharias Smith after Ron's first save, "he's bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose..."
I sure am, thought Ron, catching Harry's eye.
Throughout all this, two Gryffindors were scowling among the cheering. Cormac McLaggen was fuming and looking down at his feet. And Hermione was just waiting for the right moment to have a word with Harry about cheating. Her eyes narrowed as Harper fumbled with the Snitch and flew past. That wouldn't have happened if Harry hadn't spiked Ron's drink.
She waited until everyone had left before storming into the changing room. To her surprise, Harry, who had clearly been waiting for her, showed the bottle, still full and still sealed with wax.
Ron felt like the world had shifted. So he hadn't been lucky... not by potion... He rounded on Hermione. "'You added Felix Felicis to Ron's juice this morning, that's why he saved everything!' Well, apparently not!"
"Oh, like you didn't think you'd been given it, too!" Hermione retorted.
Harry looked between them, fiddling with the potion. "Er... shall we go to the party, then?"
Ron turned to him, still scowling. "I guess."
Hermione didn't answer, just whipped around and stormed off, tears running down her face.
Ron and Harry followed more slowly.
"Sorry," Ron muttered.
"Not your fault," Harry muttered back.
By the time they reached the common room, Hermione had disappeared. Everyone else was cheering and clapping. The Creevey brothers begged Harry for details, while a group of girls watched him and Ron with adoration in their eyes.
Harry hung back, listening to Ron retell his saves with a dramatic flair.
"Great storyteller, isn't he?" said Ginny, coming to stand beside him. Arnold the Pygmy Puff sat on her shoulder.
"Mhm."
Ginny chuckled. "There's no question as to who you're gonna marry once you've finished school. Good game, Harry." She patted him on the arm and walked off to join Demelza.
Harry stared after her. Marry? He'd never really thought that far ahead. Besides, with Voldemort out there, his chances were slim. Yet as he watched Ron make a swooping motion like he was diving for something, his eyes alight with passion, Harry found himself wondering what kind of ring he'd wear.
I've been wondering whether I will continue into seventh year with this fic or not. I don't really have much planned for it, but I'm also not really... feeling it. Oh, I'll definitely wrap up sixth year, but after that? *uncertain shrug*
Just giving you a heads up so you're prepared.