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Chapter 12: Ron's Dancing Queen
Around two o'clock in the morning three days later, the wards against Ginny went down and Ginny apparated into Hermione's flat screaming bloody murder. Hermione looked up from her bed lazily as Ginny stomped into her bedroom.
“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” she screamed when she saw the room. Every surface of it was covered in ice cream, and the voices of ABBA could be heard in the background.
“Hermione I swear I am going to kill you after you clean up this room!”
Hermione stuck her tongue out at Ginny and slipped back under her covers, yawning.
“Oh, don't you bloody dare go back to bed!” Ginny said, cursing as she vanished all signs of ice cream from the room. She pointed her wand at the blinds and they flew open, then at the covers, which few off of Hermione.
“Get the hell out of bed, Hermione Granger, or else I swear you will regret you were ever born.”
“Too late.” Hermione said blandly, summoning the covers and pulling them back over herself. With a final point of her wand, the blinds had gone back to their original positions.
But Hermione had been kidding herself if she thought Ginny would go down without a huge fight. Next, Ginny banished the covers, the curtains, and Hermione's pillows. After this she turned the volume up on the radio so that ABBA was blasting louder then she had ever heard it.
“HERMIONE, IF YOU'RE NOT SHOWERED AND DRESSED IN TIME FOR MY DRESS FITTING, I'M GOING TO TELL RON THAT YOU CHEATED ON HIM WITH VIKTOR KRUM WHILE YOU WERE DATING!”
“Good, then maybe he'll stay away from me.” Hermione said defiantly.
“Oh? Good? Then I'll also tell his mum. Mrs. Weasley? You remember her.”
“Fine. I'll be showered and dressed.” Hermione said reluctantly. Both girls were silent, listening to the music.
'Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen...'
Hermione's heart nearly stopped at the sound of the words. Painful memories. Memories that were so good she didn't want to relive them.
'Dancing queen, feel the beat on the tambourine, oh yeah! You can dance, you can jiiiive, having the time of your life! Oooohhh, see that girl, watch that scene, digging the Dancing Queen.'
Hermione loved washing the dishes. It was her time. It really was. That and putting away the laundry. She would crank up her muggle CD player and listen to muggle music while doing her chores. On this particular night, she had put in an 'ABBA' CD, and was dancing gleefully to it while the water ran. She was singing her heart out, even though she really couldn't sing.
She couldn't dance either. She really was terrible. Usually she stuck to swinging her hips while she listened to the music, but today, something was possessing her to dance her heart out. So when 'Dancing Queen' came on, she grabbed a spoon and started singing around the kitchen, yelling her heart out. The worst part was when she got on a chair at the kitchen table and started banging her pot with a second spoon while the other other one floated midair near her mouth. She felt a seconds mortification when she realized what she was doing, but then she decided that it was fine. After all, no one could see her right?
Oh, so very, very wrong.
Hermione jumped off of the chair, but instead of hitting the floor, she stopped mid air in a position resembling one who had been picked up baby style. She looked down but no one was there. It looked as though she was suspended in mid air. She was about to scream, but decided to think it out instead. After all, no one just suspended in mid air. There had to be a reason for it. Had she cast a spell on the house without realizing it? Was this apart of the burglary spell? But what burglar would rob an apartment so early? And why hadn't she seen them? Unless they had an invisibility cloak... of course.
Searching the air blindly, Hermione found a round object that seemed slightly like a head. She slowly grabbed a piece of material, dragged it off, shut her eyes and kissed the round objects lips.
“How'd you get the cloak?” she asked between kisses.
“Harry was out with Ginny, so I stole it.” the culprit said proudly. “That was a very nice display you had going there.”
“Merlin, how long have you been here?” Hermione asked, dreading the answer.
“Long enough to know that you really can't dance. You should just stick to moving your hips. It's much more of a turn on.”
“Is it, now.” Hermione laughed, getting down from Ron's arms. After shaking her head at him, she turned back to the dishes.
“Can you wash and snog?” Ron asked, brushing back her hair and kissing the hollow of her neck.
“No, so get off.” Hermione said, splashing soapy water at him.
“I see I'm not as irresistible as I used to be.” Ron grinned.
“Yes, you've really lost your touch, Ron. You know there's something wrong when your girlfriend would rather do chores then snog you.” Hermione said with an eye roll.
Ron looked extremely pleased with himself.
“Say it again.” he said.
“You know there's something wrong when your girlfriend would rather...” Hermione started.
“Yeah, you can stop now.”
Hermione shot Ron a quizzical look.
“I love it when you call yourself my girlfriend.”
“You want to know what I think of that?” Hermione asked, as seductively as she could, trying to throw Ron off scent.
“Sure.” Ron said.
Hermione splashed water once again at Ron.
“I think that was the cheesiest thing anyone has ever said to me.” she said in a louder voice. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a small kiss on his lips. “But it was kinda cute.”
Their kiss was interrupted by a large amount of water splashing Hermione's back.
“Ahh!” she screeched.
“Gottcha.” Ron said smugly. But not for long. Hermione splashed him, then he splashed her, and a full on splash war broke out. Hermione, sopping wet, finally threw her hands up in surrender. Ron splashed her in the chest.
“First, you must say that Ronald Bilius Weasley is the most snoggable person you've ever met, and that you'd rather snog him then wash the dishes!”
“No!” Hermione yelled through laughs. “Never!”
“SAY IT!” Ron yelled, splashing her again.
“Okay, okay.” Hermione said breathlessly. “Ronald Bilius Weasley is the most snoggable person I've ever met, and I'd rather snog him then wash the dishes.”
“Very nice.” Ron said, looking smugger yet. “Actions speak louder then words.”
In the middle of their kiss, Hermione broke away.
“Oh! I love this song.” she grinned.
Ron held out his hand to her.
“May I have this dance?” He asked.
“You may.” Hermione told him. They continued where Hermione had left off with 'Dancing Queen', with 'Take a Chance on Me' blaring through the speakers. The dance number that followed included much pot banging, head banging, Spoons, tables and chairs, including Ron, after getting hit in the head by Hermione's flailing hair, falling off of the table and banging his head on his fallen pot. After a final, loud, off key chord sung by Ron and Hermione (a Hagrid-sized clash against ABBA's perfect harmony), the song ended and turned into a slow song. Hermione and Ron, still laughing slightly, slowly rotated in a circle, Ron's chin rested on Hermione's head, Hermione's face buried in the crook of Ron's neck, smelling his soap mixed with a slight amount of cologne. She softly sang the chorus, and Ron frowned.
“This is a sad song.” he pointed out.
“Well spotted.” Hermione said sarcastically. She changed her tone.
“It's about a break-up, but the singer still loves her ex, and she's letting him go because she loves him. I think. She's saying that he's still her love, her life, but she's letting him walk away. Or maybe vice versa. The girls' husbands wrote the music and lyrics.”
“This doesn't really apply to us.”
“No?” Hermione said, looking mildly surprised and intrested.
“I would never let you walk away.” Ron said stubbornly.
“Oh, Ron.” Hermione laughed sadly.
“Would you let me?” Ron asked quietly.
Hermione bit her lip as she thought. Finally she look seriously up at Ron.
“I think it depends on the situation, Ron.” she told him. Ron nodded and leaned down.
“Don't let me walk away. Please.” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. Hermione shook her head.
“I can't promise you anything of that sort, Ron. I'm sorry. Neither of us know what the future will bring.”
“I can tell you what I want it to bring.” Ron said.
“And what's that?” Hermione said interestedly.
He leaned down as if he were about to tell her an important secret and whispered in her ear,
“I want to call you Dancing Queen.”
Hermione let out a short laugh.
“There's no way, Ron.” She said, shaking her head. Their serious conversation suddenly turned playful as the song changed back to the first track. “You can call me love when you think the time is right, but not Dancing Queen.”
“Fine then, love.” Ron said. If Ron hadn't been holding her as tightly as he was Hermione might have melted to the floor right then and there.
She loved that memory. Loved it so much. It was at one of her favorite stages of their relationship, one where they didn't fight, one where they could flirt and be who they were at the same time. One that included a lot of both snogging and talking. Hermine's shoulders were shaking. She was trying not to cry. Trying as hard as she could. But ever since she had lost Ron, her willpower wasn't all that good anymore. Maybe he was what fueled her for all those years, or maybe loosing him had shaken the fight out of her. It didn't matter what it was, loosing him had made her feel like a rag doll, empty, plain... unless she was saying his name. When she said his name, the feeling came back multiplied a thousand times by a thousand different feelings.
Finally, the floodgates opened. Oh, curse hormones. The world would be so much better without them.
“Hermione... are you crying?” asked Ginny incredulously, looking at her friend like she was seeing her for the first time that day. For, indeed, Ginny had failed to notice the exhausted bags under Hermione's eyes, the tear treks down her cheeks, her wet eyelashes and the way her lips pointed down, and her eyes squinted, like she couldn't bear to open them fully. “Oh, Hermione. What's wrong? Did I make you cry by yelling at you?” Ginny asked.
“No!” Hermione said through the salty tears.
“Are you upset because of the embarrassing date? Because, believe me, you have every reason to be. That was bloody embarrassing.”
“NO!” Hermione cried, sobbing harder now. “I'm crying because of...” she could say it. She could say it. She was not going to let her feelings get in the way of saying his name. It was just a name. Just a name. Fear in a name only creates fear in the person himself... or whatever that saying was. Hermione didn't bother checking her facts. She just didn't care anymore. “RON!” she screamed, then clutched a pillow to her mouth, looking very much like a shocked 5 year old that had just found out how babies were made.
Ginny suppressed the urge to laugh; she knew that it had taken Hermione a lot of courage to say it. When Harry had been gone, Ginny hadn't been able to say his name at first. Every time she did, her stomach would turn over, her mind would go fuzzy, and she'd feel like a thousand dementors had swooped upon her and were sucking the life and soul out of her. She gently pointed this out to Hermione, who lowered the pillow, permitted a shaky laugh to escape from her lips, then played with a loose thread on her comforter.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Hermione said, shaking her head and smiling to herself at the ridiculousness of it all. “I think I'll go take a shower.” she said, and Ginny nodded, know that Hermione did not want to talk about feelings right now. She padded out of the room and over to the kitchen to make Hermione breakfast, eggs, toast and bacon. Nothing sugary or bad for you, because Merlin knew that Hermione had eaten enough junk over the past few days. She was probably triple-chocolate-ice creamed-out. Come to think of it, she was probably out of triple chocolate ice cream, too.
But when Ginny opened the freezer to check, she found it packed full. With nothing at all but triple chocolate ice cream. Ginny pulled a carton out, then another, then another to take home for Harry and herself, and also to lighten up Hermione's load. But as she pulled more and more ice cream tubs out, she realized that Hermione had cast a spell of the freezer to make it automatically refill itself whenever she pulled a carton out.
“Very nice.” Ginny thought to herself, and she made a fun game out of trying to empty the freezer until Hermione got out of the shower.
Hermione let the water beat down on her back, willing herself not to let any memories come to her about her and Ron. Luckily, nothing shower-related had anything to do with him. Which was good. Because Hermione didn't think she could handle re-living another memory. Although she had many of them, she felt as though she might explode if she even pictured another one. She squeezed another squirt of shampoo onto her palm and gently massaged it into her hair. Mmm. She loved that smell. It might have been her favorite scent in the world, beside that of parchment, freshly mowed grass, and the mix of Ron's soap and cologne. She remembered the amortentia potion, and the scents she had smelled in it.
She hadn't discovered this shampoo then, so that was probably why she hadn't smelled it. Because this scent defined her. It was her. It was just so perfect, so Hermione-like, that she just had to use it. She didn't think she'd ever stop using it. She wondered if Ron had smelled her in the potion, as she'd smelled him. She also wondered whether he stilled loved the smell. She remembered how he'd went to the store and gotten her shampoo. Smirking slightly, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel as she went. After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she dried her hair off with her wand and stepped into a pair of jeans and a fitted brown shirt. Then she headed into the kitchen.
“Thanks for breakfast, Ginny.” she said, smiling at her friend.
“Welcome.” Ginny said, trying not to think of the 249 cartons of ice cream she'd sent to her house when she heard Hermione stepping out of the shower.
“Here, you can take some triple chocolate ice cream out of the freezer if you want.” Hermione added, looking as though a light bulb had went off in her head. “I have an unlimited supply.
“Er- that's okay, I really don't need anymore.” Ginny said.
“No, no, I insist. Take as much as you need, and then some.”
“Oh no, I really...”
“Ginny... take the bloody ice cream!” Hermione said forcefully. Ginny gave her a weak smile and reached into the freezer to grab more ice cream.
“So, this is like the posh part of wizarding London?” Hermione asked curiously, looking around the alley with great interest.
“Yes.” Ginny said, hurrying Hermione along impatiently. “It's where Harry would have gotten my engagement ring, except he found one in his parents' Gringotts vault. He's pretty sure his parents knew they were going to die and wanted to at least keep some things safe so they could be passed on. If we have any sons, I'm fairly certain that this ring will be used by them when they are ready to propose.”
“What if it's not off of your finger yet?” Hermione asked. Ginny, however, shrugged.
“No matter. I'll be an old hag by then. I won't need diamonds. Look, there she is.” Ginny said, pointing at her mum, who was standing in front of a small cafe.
“Hello, Ginny, love!” Mrs. Weasley said, giving her daughter a deathly tight hug.
“Hi, mum.” Ginny said, rolling her eyes at Hermione over her mother's shoulder. Hermione gave her a look that clearly said 'Behave yourself. Not everyone is as lucky as you are, you know'.
“You missed dinner last Sunday!” Mrs. Weasley admonished, holding her daughter at arms length.
“Sorry. We meant to go, but we got a bit distracted.” Ginny said, blushing.
“Of course, dear. Believe me, I know how it is to miss things when you're distracted.”
Ginny shot Hermione a disgusted look, which Hermione, looking quite wide- eyed, laughed at. At Hermione's laugh, Mrs. Weasley turned around. Hermione expected a tight-lipped nod, or even an unfriendly hug or handshake, but nothing could have prepared her for what was happening now. Mrs. Weasley had lunged herself at Hermine and was hugging her just as hard- if not harder- as she had hugged Ginny. At first Hermione thought Mrs. Weasley was trying to strangle her (and from the look on Ginny's face, she thought so too). She half expected Mrs. Weasley to jumped back and say 'that was from Ron'. What she didn't expect Mrs. Weasley to say was that Hermione had been avoiding her, and why hadn't she come around before?
“Oh.” Hermione said, feeling flustered and shocked. “I... I guess I thought I wasn't welcome.”
“Oh, really, dear, just because you and Ron aren't making googly eyes at each other over the table? You'll always be welcome in our home.”
“Thank you.” Hermione said, feeling as though a large weight had been lifted off of her stomach.
Unfortunately, it was only one.
“So, what've you girls been up to?” Mrs. Weasley asked. Ginny peered over her mother's shoulder, looking anxious to get going.
“Er, this and that.” she said, standing on her tip-toes.
“Ginny is saying that she's going to be giving her engagement ring to the first child that proposes. She claims that by then she'll be an old hag and won't need any jewelry.” Hermione said in an unintentionally arrogant voice, as though she was glad to be tattling on Ginny.
Mrs. Weasley steered Ginny, who was wandering off in the wrong direction, strait again.
“You never know, Ginny.” she said, walking briskly and quickly, so that Hermione and Ginny had to jog to keep up. They shot each other shocked looks at how agile the elder woman was. “I want to die with my engagement ring on my finger. C'mon, you two slow pokes.”
“Mum, you're so fit!” Ginny gasped. “How the bloody-”
“-hell can you even be thinking about death?”
“I'm not exactly a spring chicken anymore, Ginny.” Mrs. Weasley helpfully pointed out. Hermione saw Ginny restrain herself from rolling her eyes, then give up and let them loose. “Besides, I've had seven children, of course I'm fit, wouldn't you be? Ah, here we are.” Mrs. Weasley said gleefully, pushing the door to a small but cozy looking bridal shop open.
“Hello!” she called.
“One minute, please.” said a voice from deeper inside. Then a short, plump, aging woman with warm blue eyes and white hair walked out from the back, saw Mrs. Weasley, and threw her arms around her.
“Oh, Betty, it's lovely to see you!” Mrs. Weasley said warmly.
“Great to see you, too.” Betty grinned. “I hear you produced seven.”
“You heard right.”
“Ahhh, you beat me by 3. I only got 4 of 'em out before my husband left me.”
“Oh, Betty, he didn't!”
Mrs. Weasley tutted.
“Cliff was always so nice at school.”
“Yes, but he turned into a right pain in the arse once he'd left it. This one of yours?” Betty asked, pointing to Ginny, who was looking throughly horrified at the conversation.
“Yes, it is. Oh, where are my manors? Betty, this is my daughter, Ginevra-”
“Ginny, if you please.” Ginny said politely, glaring at her mother all the while.
“-and her best friend, Hermione. Ginny, Hermione, this is my best friend from school, Elizabeth Bennington.”
“Aw, tush, they call me Betty.”
A/N: Hello, everyone! How did you like this chapter? I sort of lied... the next chapter has wedding dresses in it. Surprise! Sorry about the abrupt ending. The chapter was origionally 6216 words, so I cut it in half and this is what we got. Did you like the memory? It's one of my favorites out of all the memories I've written. GIANT DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ABBA, MAMMA MIA OR ANY OF THE LYRICS MENTIONED IN THIS CHAPTER! Nor do I own Harry Potter. Thanks to everyone for the wonderful review's I've been getting! Please keep it up. Love and cyber hugs ~writergirl8