A/N – Was hard for me to write Ron because, although I am quite fond of Percy Weasley, I find Ron and the rest of the Weasleys incredibly irritating (no offense to Weasley-lovers). Oh well, balanced it out with some ooc Narcissa! Thanks for all your reviews by the way, I appreciate them so much!

What Ron Saw

He knew that she didn't love him, he had known for quite some time now, and he also knew that she loved someone else. Well, he suspected she loved someone else; it could just be a crush - just like he was, a childish crush but nothing more. He wasn't jealous though, because he had known a long time ago that there was no spark in their relationship, no bond or understanding that went any further than a simple friendship. Contrary to what people believed, he could use his initiative, read between the lines, and it was quite clear that Hermione thought of him as nothing more than a kind, loyal friend.

And so, it came as no surprise when Hermione pinned him down for the inevitable 'discussion', and let him down gently. "It's not that I don't love you, I do, I'm just not in love with you" she had said kindly "I'm just confused Ron, I don't know what I want anymore…I'm sorry, it's over". It's over. Well, at least she had been honest and blunt, that was something he had always admired and respected about her, even just as friends. And they would stay friends, because it wasn't a one-sided break-up full of tears and drama, more of an agreement, and understanding even. Ron knew that he should feel upset, but he just felt curious, he wanted to know who Hermione had set her sights on.


Trudging down the snow-covered streets, Ron sighed as he examined the slush that coated the rubber soles of his brand-new trainers. He really should have changed into a more sensible choice of footwear. Then, he gasped as he spotted a head of platinum-blonde hair. At first he thought it was 'The Amazing Bouncing Ferret', but then when he saw that the perfected hairstyle was streaked with black, he realized that it was, as he mentally called her, 'Mother Malfoy'. Cringing as she walked directly over to him, he nodded his head in what he hoped was a polite gesture.

"Mrs. Malfoy" he acknowledged, hoping to high heaven that the snobby cow wouldn't make any catty remarks about 'blood-purity' or shit to that effect.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley, I was just looking for you actually" she stated, causing Ron's eyes to widen in surprise. "R-really?" he squeaked, suddenly feeling like a small child again. "Yes, really" she confirmed, with an elegant nod to the head.

"I needed to talk to you about something quite important" she explained, raising a plucked eyebrow at Ron's frightened expression, "don't worry, I'm not going to make any offensive comments…well not intentionally anyway, perhaps we could go somewhere more private?" she requested, and Ron nodded his head and obediently followed, almost as if under 'Imperius'.

So that was how Ron found himself in a high-class restaurant, trying to ignore the disapproving glances that he received from waiters when they spotted his outfit, and wondering why the hell there were 15 different spoons to stir a simple cup of tea. Sure, he had been to what he had thought were nice places before, but the world of Narcissa Malfoy was one different to his altogether, and to say he felt uncomfortable would be an understatement. "So, erm, what did you want to talk about? Only, I'm meant to be meeting Harry and Hermione…" he trailed off, hoping that he did not sound rude. Narcissa's usually emotionless mask lit up slightly at his words, and Ron started to wonder what the bloody hell was going on.

"Ah yes, Hermione" she began, smirking slightly as she stirred her tea (with a pointed glance at Ron's incorrect choice of spoon), "Well you see, Mr. Weasley, that is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about…" Narcissa began, shedding all forms of restaurant-etiquette as she launched into a passionate speech about her maniac of a sister falling in love with a Mudblood – complete with uncharacteristic facial happiness and over-enthusiastic hand-gestures.

What felt like hours later, Ron managed to blink once or twice in shock, his jaw stiff from gaping like a baby-bird. Eventually, he shut his mouth with a snap, and stared at Narcissa, whose cheeks were slightly flushed from her heartfelt exclamation. "So?" she prompted, barley able to contain her excitement, "what do you think?" she questioned, smiling at Ron in a mixture of eagerness and expectation. Ron resumed his gaping, dropping his much-hated teaspoon down to the floor, where it landed with an embarrassingly loud clatter.

"I…I…erm…Mione, B-Bella, L-love? I think - think I…um-" then, Ron's incoherent stuttering ended when he stood up and promptly fainted, landing on the floor with a loud thud that grabbed the attention of all the other diners. Narcissa rolled her eyes, putting her head in her hands in exasperation – she never thought that she would admit this, but perhaps having a conversation with Potter would be marginally better.