Chapter Notes
TW: Violence
Hermione's bottom lip left a perfect, rose-red copy of itself on the rim of her teacup.
Ron looked relieved as she set the cup back down, smacking her lips and complimenting the delicious flavor of the tea.
Under the table, she pointed her wand at her lipsticked cup, charming the liquid to reduce a bit so that Ron wouldn't figure out that she hadn't actually swallowed any.
Her hands began to shake as she sat there, smiling falsely at him while he told her about the last Hogwarts Hogsmeade weekend, and what all the students had bought from him. She ate a biscuit while he talked, taking an inconspicuous sniff at it before biting
The next time Ron sipped his tea- -which had already been in his cup when she'd come back from the loo, she now noticed she pretended to sip hers as well.
Sick rage boiled in her gut as she smiled at him. She saw how he was watching her, looking for signs that her spiked tea was working.
Hermione wanted to flip the table over. She wanted to scream a hex at him, to blast him halfway across the shop. Instead, she gritted her teeth behind her sickening smile, deciding on a plan.
She would have to avoid the cameras and get Ron out of Hogsmeade. Harry would intervene, try to stop her. But, if she could act convincingly enough, she would have the element of surprise on her side.
When their tea was gone, Hermione decided that would have to be enough time for Harry's plan to work. The hour wasn't up, but she was certainly done. She leaned in, putting on a conspiratorial air as she spoke quietly.
"I'm ready to get out of here. Are you?" she asked him, biting her lip for effect.
Ron's eyes took in her flirtatious expression with a look she couldn't read.
"Yeah," he said, swallowing. "Let's go."
He helped her out of her seat, seeming unsurprised when she clung to him happily.
Hermione didn't look away from his face as they walked out of the shop and around the corner.
Harry would be around here somewhere under his cloak. She felt sure that Harry didn't know what Ron had done, given that he hadn't rushed in to stop her from drinking her tea. Ron must have somehow disguised his spiking of their teapot by making it look like he was only positioning the gift box in front of her chair.
She would have to act quickly to get Ron out of Hogsmeade without Harry interfering.
She turned to look into his eyes, putting on her best impression of a woman looking at a man she adores.
"Take me home, Ron," she said softly.
Ron looked relieved to hear her call his flat their home.
Just as Hermione saw Harry's head poke out of his invisibility cloak around a corner, Ron took her hand and disapparated.
The moment they walked into the flat, Hermione struck.
"Expelliarmus! Petrificus crura!"
Ron's wand flew out of his robes and into her hand. His legs seized, causing him to drop to the floor with a grunt.
"Wha-
Hermione kicked him in the stomach, hard. When she did, Ron's wand let out a stinging spark of magic at her hand. She dropped it in surprise, then kicked it across the floor where he wouldn't be able to reach it.
While Ron gulped for air, Hermione cast Muffliato to make sure the neighbors wouldn't hear.
Then she rounded on Ron.
"AMORTENTIA?" she screamed. "DO YOU THINK I'M STUPID, RONALD?"
Ron flailed his arms, trying to move away from her.
"Hermione, plea-
His own cry of pain cut him off as Hermione sent a whip of red hot fire lashing across his face.
With a loud snap, the whip left an ugly, red welt on his cheek. Ron knelt to the floor, clutching his face with both hands, letting out a shrill scream.
"You tried to drug me! You tried to enslave my heart against my will!" she shouted.
"Hermione, I didn't want-" he tried again, but the moment he looked up to speak, Hermione slashed him with her fire whip across his other cheek.
"You didn't want what, Ronald?" she hissed when he had finished shrieking. "Didn't want to sneak a love potion into my tea while I was in the bathroom? Didn't want to make me fall in love with you again? Didn't want me to go home with you and allow you to rape me with a smile on my face?"
Her grip on her wand as she pointed it at him nearly cracked her fingers. Fury pumped through her like lava, turning her vision red. She buzzed with power, feeling her magic crackle in her heart, begging to be unleashed.
"I wasn't going to do. that to you," Ron whimpered, horrified. "I only wanted to get you away from Malfoy, Hermione! He's done something to you, something awful! Look at yourself! You've changed!"
He was right. Hermione had changed. She felt it in her bones- some kind of seismic shift that had cleared the fog from her vision and allowed her to see Ron for what he truly was. She would never
be the same again.
She didn't want to be.
"You tried to take away my free will, Ron," she said, her voice now quiet and deadly. "You tried to take away my ability to choose. And for that, I will never forgive you.'
Ron's eyes went wide with fear. He sat on the floor of his flat, hands raised in surrender, waiting for her to decide what to do.
The realization that she had indeed changed had done something strange to her anger. The lava cooled, turning to icy stone and filling her with a dark and deadly power she didn't recognize. It radiated painfully from the center of her chest, building slowly as she stared at the coward who was whimpering for her forgiveness at her feet.
She searched her mind for a spell, a hex-something to match how she felt. But her mind had gone strangely blank. Only one word remained, a word she had never said before.
The Cruciatus Curse. An Unforgivable. If she said it, she would have to mean it.
As she thought about what had almost happened to her, what might have happened if Ron had taken her home successfully...she knew she could do it. Easily.
The time to make her decision ran out.
Ron's wand appeared in his hand out of nowhere. He whipped it forward at her, sending a stunning spell that she only barely blocked. His spell had been strong; it had caused her protective shield to ripple and make her stagger backward. When she stumbled, he sent another hex forward, but this time she was ready.
She turned the misstep into a twist, narrowly avoiding his hex and bringing her fire whip back around with a snap. It lashed forward, catching Ron's hand.
He screeched and released his wand, cradling his singed hand.
Hermione's fire whip vanished, the burning anger now turning icy once more as she raised her wand, pointing it directly at his heart.
"Please, Hermione. Please, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that," Ron begged.
In a past life, Hermione might have believed his weepy apology. But today, all she could think about was how many excuses she had made for him. How many times had she forgiven him now?
Practically every day since they had gotten together, probably. He had run out. She didn't exactly know when it had happened, but he'd run out of chances. She'd given him far too many anyway.
"Come on, Hermione. Let's just forget it," Ron pleaded, falsely interpreting her silence as softening. "Let's just put this all behind us. I'll never do anything like that again, alright?"
Put it all behind us. She was experienced enough with Ron-speak to know that really meant don't tell anyone what happened.
That was how she'd gotten herself into this mess, by "putting things behind them." Sweeping things under the rug. In choosing not to confide in others, she had not only covered for him, but she
had allowed him to control the narrative of their relationship among their family and friends. She hadn't realized that was what she was doing until their discussion at the wedding. He had covertly convinced her to let him tell their story to the world.
That ended today.
Hermione raised her wand high.
"Expecto Patronum!" she shouted.
A silver otter burst from her wand, slipping in spirals in the air before it settled in front of her.
"Go tell Molly Weasley that Ron is in trouble and we need her to come to his flat."
The otter turned and, with a flourish, slipped out of sight.
"What are you doing? Why do you want my mum to come here?" Ron asked, wiping tears away from his red-streaked cheeks.
Hermione didn't answer. She merely leaned against the wall, tapping her wand, waiting for Molly
"That was an otter, by the way," she said coolly. "Not a seal."
Ron looked at her as if she had turned into a blast-ended skrewt right before his eyes.
"They're the same fucking thing!" he insisted. Then he seemed to reconsider. "Basically," he amended. He looked sullen as she scoffed at him. "They look the same, so why does it bloody matter?" he mumbled.
The wizarding school system, Hermione decided, needed major improvements. Perhaps her next nonprofit endeavor would be to save the children of the wizarding world from turning out as stupid as Ron had.
Ron's eyes shifted around him as if looking for a way to escape her.
"Don't move," she said abruptly, when Ron tried to scoot himself away from her. "I'll stun you if
you move again.
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but just then, his fireplace erupted in green flames.
Molly Weasley stepped easily out of the Floo fire, not bothering to brush the ashes from her red hair as she looked around for her son. She spotted him on the floor and rushed to kneel at his side.
"Ron?" Mrs. Weasley said. "Hermione, what's happened?"
She examined the burns on his face worriedly.
"I'm fine, mum," Ron mumbled. "Just had a little accident."
"Silencio," Hermione spat, pointing her wand at him.
Molly turned to look at her, shocked.
"Hermione, what-"
"Your son, " Hermione said in a low, threatening voice. "Just tried to slip the most powerful love potion in the world into my tea without my knowledge. Then he tried to take me home with him, thinking I wouldn't resist him.
Molly's eyes went wide
"He...he what?" she gasped, looking at Ron.
Ron shook his head, silently trying to deny it.
"No. No, sweetheart, you must have misunderstood," Molly tried to reason.
"Accio Amortentia, " Hermione said coolly.
A small, heart-shaped bottle zoomed out of Ron's pocket, landing neatly in Hermione's outstretched hand. Ron only looked at the ground, mortified and furious.
Molly's mouth had fallen open in shock.
"This. This is why I broke up with Ron," Hermione said, her voice burning in her chest as she held up the bottle of love potion. "He's manipulative, and a coward, and I'm done with him. And the very second it's safe, I'm going to tell everyone the truth about him."
***
It was dark outside by the time Hermione stumbled into Draco's flat on unsteady feet.
She'd gone to tell Harry and Ginny what Ron had done after leaving him with his mother. The conversation was short and clear. Harry was dumbfounded. Ginny was outraged. Hermione was thirsty.
Not wanting to bring alcohol into Draco's flat, she had gone to a muggle bar near his home. While drinking far too much whiskey and eating loads of greasy food, she had considered what would happen next. She was pretty sure Ron would be in the thick of it by then. Ginny would make sure their whole family knew, and Harry would be held responsible for not keeping him in check.
Perhaps that wasn't fair to Harry, but Hermione didn't much care.
She wove her way home on foot, and when she walked in the door, Draco came out of nowhere, catching her as she nearly tripped over her own feet.
"Granger, what.. why do you smell like liquor? Where have you been?" he asked.
"Date went poorly," Hermione hiccupped. "Wanted a drink."
He helped her to the sofa, propping her head up with a pillow and conjuring a bowl to set on the floor beside her. He knelt next to her, pushing her hair back from her forehead.
He was so gorgeous when he was concerned. His bright silver eyes looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and for once, that didn't scare her.
"Hullo, Draco," she cooed at him.
"What happened?" he insisted.
She sighed, wishing she didn't have to tell him too. He would be so very angry. Probably angrier than even she had been, if that was possible. But she'd told everyone else, so he needed to know too.
"I'm done keeping his secrets, Draco," she said. "I'm going to tell you everything."
Chapter End Notes
I can feel the flames on my skin,
Crimson red paint on my lips,
If a man talks shit. then I owe him nothing.
I don't regret it one bit, 'cause he had it coming.
- Taylor Swift, I Did Something Bad