Pride & Prejudice & Leprechauns | By : Refictionista Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4178 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Nothing from the wizarding world of Harry Potter is mine, and I make no profit off of my writing. The fact that this story is on this site obviously implies that I am a fan writing fanfiction. |
Several days after the ball, Hermione was hard at work researching possible ways to curse a four leaf clover. Since they were typically charmed objects, she felt that discerning how they were somehow being cursed would give her a clue as to the identities of the culprits.
“Perhaps I should research similar charmed objects as a baseline,” she whispered to herself, writing a reminder on a piece of parchment. She tapped her quill against her lips and tried to think of other areas of investigation to explore.
She was jolted from her reverie by the arrival of Ronald Weasley.
“Careful there,” Ron said with a grin, “you don’t want to muck up your lips with that hideous blue ink.” He was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was always turned, and Hermione was the happy woman by whom he finally visited; and the agreeable manner in which he immediately fell into conversation, though it was the middle of the workday, made her feel that the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered amusing by the skill of the speaker.
Hermione blushed at his continued witticisms, but then creased her brow.
“Where have you been Ron?” she asked. “I began work on the research days ago.”
“Out chasing down leads, my dear,” he replied quickly.
“Oh, of course,” she said, embarrassed to have questioned his work ethic. “Did you discover anything?”
“Not yet, but I’m sure that I will.” He sighed. “They haven’t harmed any Muggles yet, thank Merlin. The testimony from the victims is nearly identical. The witch or wizard is outside and feels compelled to grab a four leaf clover from a patch.”
Hermione had read as much in her research of the existing cases.
“I’ve spoken extensively with the victims and their healers. The most usual symptom is the appearance of a lump of salt on the neck, which has grown larger in the most recent cases. The healers are referring them as “bad luck pustules”, because they spread bad luck to anyone who touch them. Patients since the beginning have had fever and chills, sore throats, that type of thing.”
“Are those symptoms of the curse becoming more severe as well?” asked Hermione.
“Yes,” said Ron wide-eyed. “How did you know that?”
“My research into charming four leaf clovers shows that the spells can become more powerful the more frequently they are practiced by the caster.”
“Makes sense, I guess. The simple maladies that were treatable with standard healing potions and spell removals have progressed into severe magical illnesses. I don’t have much experience with the fair folk, so questioning the victims seemed to be the best course of action.”
Hermione was very willing to hear him, though what she chiefly wished to hear she could not hope to be told—the history of his acquaintance with Draco Malfoy. She dared not even mention that wizard. Her curiosity, however, was unexpectedly relieved. Ron began the subject himself. He inquired how she had enjoyed the ball; and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long she and Mr. Malfoy were on speaking terms.
“Since he joined the Auror office,” said Hermione; and then, unwilling to let the subject drop, added, “Perhaps it would do to ask Auror Malfoy about this case. Not only is he the usual lead on cases involving the fair folk, but he has extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts.”
“Of course he has knowledge of the Dark Arts,” Ron spat, “if not for his family’s wealth and willingness to bribe ministry officials, he would be rotting in Azkaban as we speak.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes, my personal grievance against him isn’t quite as dark, but it was just as dastardly. Our seventh year, I found out that Draco had involved himself with some underground dark artifact dealers, ones too shaded to conduct business even at Borgin and Burkes. I went to him to offer my help in getting untangled from those degenerates, since we are technically cousins distantly related on my father’s side. He was embarrassed to accept my assistance and therefore refused; however, I later found out that he had been using my name in his dealings with the smugglers. He tricked me into accepting the blame for his misdeeds, and now I have a mark against me on my permanent record. If it wasn’t for our friendship with Harry, I would never have been able to become an Auror.”
“This is quite shocking! I had no idea the extent of his behavior. He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”
Ron laughed loudly and heartily. “Some time or another he will be, but it shall not be by me.”
Hermione honored him for such feelings, and thought him handsomer than ever as he expressed them.
“I had not thought Mr. Malfoy so bad as this, and though never hearing any evidence directly from him, I have always surmised his dislike of Muggle-borns such as myself. Until now, I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this. Perhaps if we—”
“Hermione,” Ron interrupted, “Forget this talk of Malfoy, it does no good to one’s constitution. I was wondering if I could speak to you on another serious matter of some importance, and I solicit you for the honor of a private audience. Shall we adjourn to the tea room?”
Hermione noticed him pulling a small jewelry box out of his coat pocket as they walked together to the small break area. As he walked ahead of her, she closed the door behind them. He turned at once.
“You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural delicacy may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I met you at Hogwarts, I singled you out as the companion of my future life.”
The idea of Ron, with his lackadaisical attitude, being serious about his feelings, made Hermione so near laughing, that she could not use the short pause he allowed in any attempt to stop him further, and he continued:
“Firstly, I am convinced that marriage will add very greatly to my happiness; and secondly—which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is the particular advice and recommendation of my mother. Many times has she condescended to give me her opinion on this subject; and it was but the very Saturday night before I left the Burrow for the ball, that she said, ‘Ron, you must marry. Choose properly, choose a witch for my sake; and for your own, let her be an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, but able to make a small income go a good way. I think you should choose Miss Hermione Granger. This is my advice.’ So you already know she finds you acceptable, though naturally, I will require you to retire from the Auror department and your career once we wed.”
It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.
“You are too hasty, sir,” she cried. “You forget that I have made no answer. Let me do it without further loss of time. Accept my thanks for the compliment you are paying me. I am very sensible of the honor of your proposals, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than to decline them.”
“Nonsense,” replied Ron, with a formal wave of his hand. “You, Harry, and I have been the closest of friends for years. Naturally, since you harbor no secret feelings to our mutual friend—a good thing too since he married my sister—you and I are destined to be together.”
“But—”
“Do you deny this is the supposition of everyone that we marry?”
“No—”
“Then we are engaged,” he said, smiling. He placed the ring on her finger and patted her hand. Ron then made a vague reference to be needed elsewhere and took his leave.
Truthfully, Hermione had always assumed that she and Ron would marry at some point in the future, but now that this future was upon her... she wasn't so sure. Plus, she was unsettled at the idea of leaving her beloved career behind.
However, Ron was one of her closest friends. She did love him.
Perhaps, it was best that they did marry. She had heard many a time that friendship was the best basis for the respect necessary in marriage.
Later that evening, she decided to invite her closest friend over the next day to discuss her apprehensions, and therefore sent Luna an owl to that purpose.While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
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