Important note:

I have finished reading Deathly Hallows. I started this fic before DH came out and intended it to be complete before the deadline. As you can see, I was not very good at sticking to my deal. So, just to say, this fic is still in it's original, unaltered storyline. It will not reference the book in any way BUT let me just say that a few things I typed did show up in the book and I SMILED so hard. Tonks' hair colour, Mrs Weasley's robe colour, etc. There was something else but I can't recall. ANYWAY. Think of this as old hat now. And be safe knowing I still haven't changed my story :) Thank you to those who reviewed and encouraged me on. If you still feel the need, do read this last chapter and try not to think that it's really all over.

A Weasley Compensation

by Nejinee

Chapter 5:

A Weasley Sensation

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Ron watched the twins laughing evilly. He really hated them sometimes. Them with their know-it-all ideas. Pretty much like Hermione except she never used her knowledge to piss him - oh, wait, she did.

As he looked about, a scowl on his face, he spotted Hermione over at the drinks table with Ginny. His younger sister seemed to be nattering on but Hermione, oddly enough, wasn't responding. It looked like she was a tad uncomfortable. What could possibly make her uncomfortable around Ginny?

Ginny was grinning, Hermione steadfastedly looking at the array of drinks as though she really wanted a stiff firewhiskey.

"Hey," a voice said, making Ron jump. It was Harry. He looked a bit red-faced, probably from his dancing excursions. Prat.

"Hi," Ron said, trying to pay attention to his friend and not where Hermione was going.

"You having fun?" Harry asked.

Where was she going anyway? He craned his head, watching her move, Ginny following, through the crowds of people.

"Ron," Harry said.

Hermione stopped at Lupin's table, clearly intent on saying hello. Her smile broke out and Ron felt a bit better. She was a bit tetchy, you know? He didn't want an emotional Hermione running about, guns blazing

"She'll be back," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Ron shot him a look.

"Your point?" he asked, turning to look at Harry.

Harry laughed, "Nothing, nothing. Just get some drink in you. You look parched."

"Is that what kids call it these days?" Fred said, passing by. "Parched?"

"Funny, I would have said smi-" George said but was cut off. "Ow!"

"Oh, sorry Fred. George. Whoever." Ginny said. She looked at Harry, her eyes wide, eyebrows crooked.

"You all right, Gin?" Ron asked, "Only, you look like you've eaten Hagrid's foot."

Harry looked shifty and waved Ginny off, Ron not seeing. The redhead girl huffed loudly, gave Harry a look then started back from where she'd come.

"Speaking of Hagrid," Ron said, "There he is. It's a wonder I didn't see him earlier. Hope he hasn't brought his ... er brother." The larger than normal man was indeed mingling, if you could call it that. Hagrid was laughing, his tankard of ale sloshing on a few of his nearby party-goers.

Harry watched Ginny's robe swish out of view before looking Ron in the eye.

"We should sit," He said then.

"Yeah, might as well," Ron said, running his hand through his hair. "More food. Maybe get me some dessert, eh?"

Harry held back a sigh. "Yes, Ron. Eat more. That'll attract the girls."

"Eh?" Ron looked up as he sat back down in his seat.

"Nothing," Harry muttered.

As the two of them settled into an easy conversation, Ron ploughing into chocolate mousse, the party went on. The fairies in the tent shone brighter, casting their soft glow in the deepening sunset. Couples still twirled on the dancefloor and Harry could see Mr Weasley comforting Mrs Weasley who seemed overwhelmed with emotion. She was wiping tearfully at her face, saying something Harry was sure would sound like: "Oh, my oldest baby boy! He's moving on without his mum. Oh Arthur! What'll we do?"

"I never in all my life imagined Bill would marry, you know," Ron said.

Harry looked on, nodding. "Yeah, he seems more the 'adventure waits for no-one!' type."

Ron laughed, spewing chocolate onto the centrepiece. The bouquet of arranged flowers shook their leaves, spattering the mousse back at him.

"Fleur too," Harry murmured, spotting the silver-haired girl dancing with Gabrielle. "Never thought a girl like her would be a Weasley."

"Me neither," Ron said, not insulted. "She's a bit too pretty for this family."

"Who is?" Hermione asked, settling into her seat, her face pink.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked, looking at her.

Hermione laughed, "Professor Lupin was teaching me the Foxtrot. Quite fun, really. He certainly can dance."

"Tonks been holding out then?" Harry said.

Hermione laughed, "I bet she didn't know before."

Ron shrugged, uninterested. Though he felt he couldn't talk to Hermione as she sat there, her face glowing. It just reminded him of their spin around the dancefloor.

"So who were you talking about," Hermione asked, back on track.

"What?" Ron asked, licking his spoon.

Hermione took a breath, "You were saying something about being too pretty for a Weasley?"

"Oh, that!" Ron cried, pushing his bowl away. "We were talking about Fleur."

Hermione's smile went rigid. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Ron continued, gesturing at Harry, "We were saying how we never thought Bill'd marry a girl like Fleur."

Harry saw Hermione's eyes flash. "Ron," she said, her tone quiet but deadly, "Don't you think you judge people too often on their looks?"

Ron looked at her, his eyes curious. Seeing her in the green robes, her face screwed up, but still amazingly glistening, he couldn't help but say, "Well, sometimes it's all right."

Harry felt like running for cover.

Hermione exploded. "No it is NOT!" she cried shrilly. "If you just paid attention! If you really thought about how your words, your actions, your - your VITRIOL affected people, maybe you'd think twice about assuming something about a person based on their looks!"

Ron was stunned. Not only did he not understand her, but he couldn't imagine what had set her off. "Hermione, I was just-"

"No! You be quiet! You INFURIATE me RONALD!"

And with that she stood, her hair swishing about her shoulders and stomped off. Ginny popped out of nowhere, giving Harry a glare before running after Hermione indoors.

Ron just gaped at Harry who looked not quite as surprised as himself.

"What-" he said.

"I wonder," Harry interrupted, "Why Hermione's the only one apart from your mum who calls you that."

"Calls me what?" Ron choked out, thinking of some secret Ron insult.

"Ronald."

"What?"

"No, she calls you Ronald.I don't call you that. Nor does Ginny."

"Your point being ... ?" Ron asked, rubbing his forehead. Girls were so very very frustrating.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Interesting, is all." He twirled his straw through the gelatinous drink before him.

He had to wait this out, apparently. Ginny wasn't back and surely wouldn't be until Hermione had been calmed down. Which could take hours.

In all honesty it was about one hour before the two girls reappeared, Ginny dressed in a softer summer dress.

"You changed," Harry said, standing.

Ginny nodded, "Finally, while Mum and Fleur weren't looking. Hated that confection of a dress. Itched all over; ghastly thing."

Harry laughed. Ron was just slouching in his seat, his tie loosened, his outer robe forgotten.

"Well he looks charming," Ginny said, eyebrow showing her annoyance.

Harry was about to lead Ginny away for explanation when an ideal opportunity arose.

"Ron," He said hastily, eyes focused across the room. "D'you mind getting some more drinks?"

His redheaded friend looked up. "What? Can't you?"

Harry gave a great sigh. How to ask him to leave?

"Would you just GO?" Ginny hissed, smacking Ron about the head.

"Ow!" he cried, "What is wrong with you two? Can't you get enough of each other already?"

"No, we can't," Ginny said, arms crossed. "Now get moving."

Ron stood up, gave Ginny a look that promised pain later and stormed off, royally peeved. "Bloody hell," he hissed under his breath as he moved between the guests. "Can't they just go off somewhere and be alone rather than tossing me out my chair?"

As Ron approached the drinks table, he looked up and stopped.

"Hermione?" he said loudly.

The brunette looked up, suurprised. She'd been standing alone, a forlorn look on her face, watching the few couples swaying to the music. The dancefloor was almost empty but the band kept playing. The sad, wistful look on her face had been what stopped Ron.

It reminded him of what Charlie had said. Hermione was a girl. Not just any girl, but Hermione. Even she would feel left out, acting the wallflower at a party. Every girl loves to be asked to dance. That was it, right?

Ron felt himself cringe, recalling their tiff earlier.

"Ron," she said coldly, looking away again. He wondered what she could possibly be staring at because only a very sloshed Hagrid was within view.

Ron rubbed his hand through his hair, looking for the words. Apologies were so hard. He never apologized because he didn't want to. He didn't like the guilty feelings.

"You - you're still in your dress robes." He noticed this, at least.

Hermione looked at him, her jaw set. "I don't have other formal clothes Ron. What do you expect? An array of ballgowns?"

Ron blinked, his hair falling back into his eyes. "Uh ... no ... I just ... well-"

Hermione held his gaze then sniffed and looked away again, folding her arms. Ron felt terribly awkward. There was only one thing for wakwardness though. More awkwardness.

He stepped forward, holding his breath, and took Hermione's hand in his. He pulled her firmly, guiding her across the grass.

"Ron!" she cried, "What are you doing?"

Ron spun and looked right back at her, his eyes stern. "Dancing," he said clearly. "Join me?"

The soft jazz that surrounded them indicated the sort of dance required. Hermione blinked, frowned and looked around all at once.

"You don't have to," Ron said, his voice muffled, imagining her to be embarrassed to be seen with Ron.

Hermione looked at him. She looked at his hand in hers and she just couldn't help the rush that took her breath away. It was so different of him. Brave, almost.

"All right," she said warily, "But promise you won't insult me, ridicule my ideas or foist your own upon me."

Ron nodded, not really getting it. "Sure." Contractual dance agreement. Right. He felt nervous again, his ears warming up. They stepped forward and bumped knees.

"Sorry," they both said at once, then blushed some more at how daft they thought they looked. Everyone could be watching.

Stepping closer, Ron took a deep breath and curled his arm around her waist. He took her other hand in his, feeling its counterpart rest hesitatingly on his shoulder. It was very different this time. No surprises. No crowd to blend into. It was them, the music and hopefully the dimming light. Ron gulped and turned with Hermione who just looked past him.

"Um, about earlier," Ron said, not looking at her either. "I didn't mean to say what I said. About looks and all. I meant that, well, looks and stuff, intelligence, go together. Girls aren't always for looking at. I mean-sometimes they are, but not-"

He continued mumbling on, Hermione listening.

"-you don't really think I think like that, do you?" he looked down and saw her brown eyes, darkened in the evening.

Hermione sighed, "No, not really. I know you're better than that, Ron. It's just ..." she paused. Ron waited, turning them about. "You don't prove it much."

Ron looked past Hermione, seeing a few paople laughing during conversation nearby. "I know I don't," he said softly. "It's not easy, really. That's just me though, isn't it? A bit of a mistake, really."

Hermione looked up then, frowning. "Ron," she said. He looked at her, surprised. "You're not a mistake. Don't say such things."

Ron looked away then back again, "Well, yeah, obviously but I'm not too sharp, hey?'

Hermione smiled wryly then. "Oh Ron."

Ron chuckled. He felt the tension easing from his shoulders. As they turned on the dancefloor, Fleur whizzed past, laughing gaily as Bill bent her over for a kiss. Both Ron and Hermione made faces.

Laughing loudly, they realized their silliness and let it go. Hermione smiled fully, her happiness a bit more palpable, more relaxed.

"Thanks for asking me to dance," she said.

"Oh?" Ron said, eyebrows raised. "No problem." Apparently Charlie was right. Note to self: dancing gets you out of tight spots.

"It'll get worse from here," she said, her voice soft as she looked around.

"Eh?" Ron asked, eyebrows lifting.

"With Harry. I'm sure this may be the last good evening we have in a long time. We'll be setting off soon, won't we?" she looked up then, concern wavering in her eyes.

Ron gave a small smile and held her closer. "We'll have each other 'mione. Don't forget that."

"I know," she said, her face muffled into his shoulder.

Slowly they turned, the music flowing by, ebbing like the sea as they drifted. The darkness had completely fallen now, leaving only a few fairies to light the tent. Laughter, cheers and a burst from Hagrid ensured that everyone still felt the same as them. Safe for now, with family and friends. Not for long, but always worth it.

Ron could smell Hermione's perfume again, closed his eyes and inhaled. He remembered picking the potion at the store in Diagon Alley, months and months ago, before they were asked to hunt for Horcruxes, before everything went to war. He'd swept through shelves and counters filled with potions, each smelling uniquely different. He knew how it worked. You find the perfect one in patience; and he knew he had done it right. He'd chosen Hermione.

Even as they drifted, he didn't feel his face move. As if in a dream, neither aware, they looked at one another, eyes lidded heavily, breath ghosting breath in the darkness and met at last.

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From across the tent, Fred punched Harry's arm and Harry turned, seeing the gleam in his eye.

Harry looked then at his two friends, shrouded in the tent's dimness, closer than they'd ever been and Harry couldn't help the grin that split his face apart.

"Oh, what a horrible accident," Ginny said from behind him. She was looking too, her eyes more than pleased, contradicting her words. She looked up at him, eyes twinkling like stars, "Don't you think so Harry?"

"Terribly unfortunate," he answered, grinning with every fibre of his being.

They laughed along with the twins, knowing full well they'd finally accomplished what had always been, to them at least, an inevitable feat.

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The end.