“When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love” “ JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Luna Lovegood had always been a bit, well, eccentric, to put it mildly, but even Ron, previously fully-fledged bachelor man, was surprised that she decided to send out the invitations to her wedding only a week before the actual event. But so she did, and Ron awoke on Monday morning to find a luminescent green invitation on his doormat, with flashing purple and pink writing declaring:
‘Mr Phileas Lovegood is proud to announce the forthcoming wedding of his daughter, Miss Luna Lovegood, to one Mr Colin Anthony Creevey, and would like to invite you, Ronald Weasley, to the occasion, to take place on Tuesday September the 6th, commencing at half past noon at St Ignatius’ Church, Brighton. RSVP ASAP’
Stunned, Ron turned the invitation over to see Luna’s swirling writing:
‘Dear Ronald, I hope you can come, you are so funny, and always make me laugh, except when your jokes aren’t funny, of course. Hope to see you there! Love Luna xx’
Ron couldn’t help but laugh, there really was nobody else like Luna. He scrambled in a drawer for a piece of parchment, dunked his quill in some ink and scribbled, ‘Sure I’ll come, see you Tuesday, looking forward to it! Ron.’ He sent it off and, feeling cheerful, set out for a new week’s dancing.
“Morning,” Hermione greeted him with a beaming face and swift kiss. “Take a look at this, it should lay your fears to rest.” She handed him that morning’s issue of Witch Weekly, Ron glanced over the glossy cover. The moving picture on the front had been taken from Saturday night’s show, and showed Alex, Ron and Hermione. Ron was pleased to see that the photographic Alex was being restrained by SecuriWizards while photographic Ron and Hermione looked on together, holding hands and looking shocked. The cover bore the large shining headline, ‘Jealous Ex-Fiancé Tries To Destroy Golden Couple!’ Ron flicked to the article inside and scanned through it, happy to discover that the reporter was completely on their side, citing Alex as being ‘driven mad by jealousy’.
“Why aren’t they laying into me as an engagement-wrecker?” Ron wondered out loud. Hermione smiled, and pointed at the reporter’s name. Ron stared, then grinned. He supposed that the article would be rather biased if it was written by his sister.
“And now we’ll get on with the dancing,” Hermione said, tossing the magazine aside. “Because there’s not so many couples left, we’re learning two dances this week: the Quickstep, and the Cha Cha Cha. That means twice as much work to do, twice as many steps to learn, and two sets of costumes, so we’ll get started fitting them right away.” She Summoned a large cardboard box with her wand, set it on the floor, and pulled out two dresses. One was very long, in green and yellow with small sleeves, but the other was, in Ron’s opinion, rather too small. It was pink, and while the top half was more of a leotard, with three holes cut into it down the front, but the skirt part was merely strands of material. Hermione shook it as she held it up, so the strands swung about, and grinned up at Ron.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing his less-than-happy expression.
“Nothing,” Ron muttered, feeling his ears going red. “It’s just… well, isn’t that dress a bit… revealing?” He looked at the floor and scratched his neck, avoiding her eyes. Hermione lowered the dress and sighed.
“Ron, it’s a dancing outfit, of course it’s revealing,” she said quietly. “The Cha Cha Cha’s Caribbean, and it’s really fast with lots of turning, which is why this dress is ideal. A dancer’s costume isn’t just thrown together, it has to be considered so as it actually adds to the dance. The dress is part of the dance, and this style of skirt looks fantastic during a Cha Cha Cha.”
“Yeah, but still…” Ron still looked uncomfortable. “If you’re turning about and these… strands fly about, then you’ll be able to see…” he trailed away.
“You won’t be able to see anything, Ron, except my dancing shorts underneath,” Hermione told him, firmly but gently. “Please, Ron, there’s nothing to worry about. Alex would never believe me, but I know you will.” Ron looked up at her and sighed.
“Ok, but it’s just that, well, since you’re my,” Ron paused, “girlfriend, I kind of feel protective.” Hermione smiled.
“And I’m happy that you are,” she told him, folding the dress back up. “Just don’t worry about it. I just gave up everything for you, I’m not going to leave you so soon. Don’t worry. Besides,” Hermione’s face cracked into an evil grin, “you haven’t seen your outfits yet.”
Ron looked questioningly at her. Hermione grinned still further, and pulled out a black shirt and trousers. Ron stared. They were merely plain black.
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, confused.
“That’s your quickstep outfit,” Hermione told him, laying it carefully on the floor. “This is your Cha Cha outfit.” She pulled it out of the box and Ron’s jaw dropped in horror.
“No,” he said. “No way. There is absolutely no way you are going to get me wearing that!” Hermione smirked. She was holding up another all-in-one lycra suit, but this one was shocking pink. And it seemed half the front was missing; the neckline seemed to scoop dangerously low.
“Oh, come on, Ron, it’s not that bad. The neckline’s not so low, I promise, you won’t even be able to see your belly button,” Hermione said, earnestly, but clearly trying not to laugh.
“Hermione, it’s lycra, it’s pink, it’s a hideous design, it’s got ruffles, lace, glitter and fake jewels stuck on. You are never getting me wearing that.”
Hermione glared at him.
“Why do you always make me wear the worst outfits?” Ron muttered, slouching off to the dressing room.
*
After the costume debacle, Ron emerged back in his usual clothes, for Hermione to tell him all about the two new dances.
“The Quickstep is like a fast foxtrot,” Hermione began. At the bemused look on Ron’s face, she continued, “We’ll be learning the foxtrot the week after next, but for now, we’ll concentrate on this. It’s a light, bright dance, and has tricky footwork, so you’ll have to work especially hard. You’re supposed to look like you’re dancing over hot coals, and you’ll need to be on your toes a lot. Here, let’s give it a try.”
They took up ballroom position, and Hermione began going through some simple steps. Soon enough, Ron had got a rather shaky gist of the dance, and Hermione turned her attention to the Cha Cha Cha.
“The Cha Cha came from Cuba, and has similar steps to the rumba, which we’re doing next week. However, the rumba is romantic, but this dance is much brighter and livelier. It’s quite a sort of cheeky dance, and there won’t be much dancing together, it’ll be more individual. Come on, I’ll show you.”
The Latin dance was much trickier for Ron to get the hang of, mainly because he wasn’t so used to dancing steps on his own, especially as Hermione wasn’t leading him. According to her, however, this was a good thing.
“I think you need a bit of practise at leading,” she told him, as they packed the things away at the end of the day. “The man’s supposed to lead the woman in dancing, so it’ll help you get used to it for the next few dances.”
“Will there be two dances to learn again next week, or just the one?” Ron asked, massaging his ankles. Learning two different dances, both very quick, in one day, had been extremely hard work. But, to his relief, Hermione shook her head.
“No, we’d just be doing the rumba, which is a romantic Latin dance, but there will be a group dance next week, the Viennese Waltz, where all the remaining couples dance together on the floor at the same time.”
Hermione flicked the switch on the lights, and slowly they made their way downstairs and out of the studio. Outside the wind was up, and it was raining hard; it seemed a storm was on its way.
“I hope it’s nicer weather than this for Luna next Tuesday,” Hermione said grimly, pulling the hood up on her jacket. Ron turned in surprise.
“You got an invitation too?”
“Yes, Ginny told her I was back, and apparently she loves the show. Who’d have thought, eh, Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevey? So you’re going, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, Tuesday afternoon,” Ron grinned shaking his head. “Who gets married on a Tuesday afternoon?”
“Luna does,” Hermione replied simply, smiling. “Although if it was me, I’d probably have given my guests at least a month’s notice, rather than a week.”
“So,” Ron said, flinging a casual arm around her shoulders. “What about that meal I promised you several weeks ago? You feel like going tonight?” Hermione gave him a half-appraising, half-amused look, then nodded, a grin curling over her face.
“Yes, I think we’ve put it off long enough, Mr Weasley,” she told him. “Where are you going to take me?”
“There’s this great place only a few streets away from here, they make great pizza,” Ron told her, leading the way across the deserted road.
“Ron!” Hermione screamed suddenly; Ron jumped and stared around to see a car almost on top of them, lights blazing in the dusk, the dark shape of the driver just visible hunched behind the wheel. Hermione leapt aside, grabbing Ron’s arm and dragging him with her just in time; the car missed by inches and sped off away into the darkness.
Ron stood, shell-shocked on the pavement, Hermione still clinging tightly onto his arm, shaking and looking pale.
“That was close,” Ron said finally, once he’d got his breath back.
“Are you ok?” Hermione asked him, shakily, and finally loosening her grip on his arm.
“Yeah, I… thanks,” Ron muttered sheepishly, running a hand distractedly through his hair. “You saved my life.”
“I… well… yeah.”
“Where did that car come from though?” Ron mused aloud. “I checked the road, and it was definitely clear.” Hermione shook her head.
“I thought so too. We must’ve missed it, or something.” Ron nodded and swallowed.
“Come on, there’s definitely nothing coming now,” he said, taking Hermione by the hand and leading her across to the safety of the pavement the other side.
It wasn’t far to the restaurant, and soon Ron and Hermione were sitting down to share a large pizza together, discussing how the rest of the competition would pan out. Just as they began to tuck into ice cream, however, there was a high-pitched scream; the pair of them looked round in time to see a rough, gritty brick smash into the large plate glass window. The tables nearest the window were showered with shimmering specks of glass, and Ron had to jerk his head sharply sideways to avoid being caught by the brick. It landed with a loud cracking noise on the tiled floor, while the manager came hurrying out to try and calm down his customers, as an alarm blared overhead.
Ron stared around, feeling a breezy draught blowing in through the large hole in the window, but soon he felt Hermione tugging on his arm.
“What?” he asked quietly, noticing that she had picked up the brick. She unwrapped a piece of parchment that was wrapped around it, read through it, and blanched.
“What’s the matter?” Ron repeated urgently. Hermione didn’t say a word, but mutely handed the parchment to Ron. Ron grabbed it, and saw two lines scrawled there in black ink.
‘I’ll get you, Ron Weasley.
I’ll get you.’
*
Luckily Ron managed to make it to the end of the week with no more assassination attempts. He and Hermione had avoided wandering around outside anywhere, preferring to Apparate back to their own places of residence straight away after a day’s training. Hermione was still living at Harry and Ginny’s, despite Ron’s protests, but he was much heartened by her promise that she would consider living with him.
Now, however, they were waiting in the wings once more, Hermione dressed in her pink dress, and Ron in his hideous pink suit. They had already danced their quickstep, and been praised for it, and were minutes away from dancing their Cha Cha Cha.
“Ron, where are your shoes?” Hermione hissed suddenly, noticing Ron’s bare feet.
“Oh, I took them off, my ankles were sore again,” Ron exclaimed, leaving Hermione’s side and hurrying back to the dressing room where he’d left them. He was back within a minute, and hurried to tie them up.
“Are you sure you’re warmed up enough in them?” Hermione asked, critically eyeing the shoes.
“I’m fine, Hermione, look-“ Ron went through the first few steps of the dance “ or at least he would have done, had his feet not given way beneath him; he skidded over, falling spectacularly into a rack of costumes.
“Ron!” Hermione dropped to the floor to help him up. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Ron said, wincing slightly. Nothing seemed broken, in any case. He pulled his shoes off again, and stared at the soles. Hermione let out an audible gasp.
“But that’s-“
“Oil,” Ron muttered, running a finger across the slippery surface. “They’ve been polished up too, look.” Hermione held a shoe in her hand, biting her lip. Ron frowned at her.
“What are you thinking?” he asked curiously.
“Nothing,” Hermione mumbled, turning the shoe over. “It’s just that, well, you’ve been pretty unlucky this week. The car nearly knocking you down, that brick through the window “ we know that was meant for you. And now this, I mean, this was deliberate.” Ron scrutinised her anxious face.
“You think this was Alex, don’t you?”
Hermione paused, but Ron could see the answer in her worried brown eyes. At that moment, however, they had more to worry about; the previous couple, Ira and his partner, had come off stage, and Ron and Hermione were being called forwards.
“What am I going to do?” Ron asked urgently. “I can’t dance in these!” Hermione looked around, then leapt to her feet and flinging herself on Ira.
“Ira! Ira, we’ve had a bit of an accident, well not so much an accident but anyway “ can we borrow your shoes?” Ira stared at her, confused.
“My shoes?” he repeated slowly. “Well, yeah, I suppose so, but why-“
“Can’t explain now, sorry, we’ve got to go!” Ira handed his shoes over to Ron, who slipped them on and tied them up tightly; Ira’s feet were least a size bigger than his.
Dancing the Cha Cha Cha in his own shoes was usually hard enough, but Ron found himself struggling to stay upright half the time as he tried to dance. He did his best, but his feet were just that bit longer than he was used to, and he knew it was showing in his dancing. They closed the dance, and Ron waited with baited breath for the judge’s sentence to fall.
“What was going on, Ron?” said the first judge, flabbergasted. “You had a near perfect quickstep, but that Cha Cha was terrible!”
“He had to borrow Ira’s shoes,” Hermione piped up quickly. “His own shoes, er, broke, and there wasn’t time to find another pair in his size. It was the best we could do.”
“Well, that explains it,” said another judge, “but, wrong size shoes or not, you can’t expect a high mark from that performance.”
He was right; Ron and Hermione got the lowest mark of the show, and, once again, it was up to the public to save them. As they waited nervously at the end of the show, Ron bent down to whisper in Hermione’s ear.
“D’you think this was what Alex wanted?” he muttered. “To get us out of the show?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione whispered back, shaking her head slightly. “It could be that he thinks if we’re out of the show, I won’t see you anymore, and I’ll go back to him.”
“He’s a nutter,” Ron muttered darkly, but, to his surprise, Hermione sighed deeply.
“There’s more to Alex than you realise, Ron,” she said sadly. “It isn’t his fault he’s like this.” Ron made to inquire further, but the marks were being announced, and at a shush from Hermione, he fell silent.
As the other couples were granted safety into the next round one by one, Ron felt his heart sinking right to his stomach. He thought about what Hermione had said, ‘perhaps he thinks if we’re out of the show, I won’t see you anymore, and I’ll go back to him’. Would she? If she wasn’t forced to spend every day with him rehearsing, would she still want to see Ron, or would she think she had made a mistake and go back to Alex?
Ron was so wrapped up in his internal thought, he didn’t realise that the presenters had made their final announcement. He only realised the show had finished when Hermione let out a sob and flung herself on him, crying. Ron felt his heart sink further, but sighed resolutely.
“Never mind,” he said to Hermione, patting her shoulder. “So what if we didn’t get through? We’ll still see each other, right?” Hermione pulled away from him, looking confused.
“But… Ron, weren’t you listening?”
“Er…”
“We got through, Ron! We just made it through! We’ve got another chance!” Hermione hugged him tightly as Ron let the words sink in.
“We got through?!” he said finally, delighted.
“Yes!” Hermione said, laughing. Ron laughed too; it would all be alright, they were still in the show and Hermione wasn’t going to leave him for Alex! Feeling elated, Ron grabbed Hermione’s middle and swung her round, while she shrieked at him to put her down, although admittedly between laughs. Ron set her down and hugged her tightly, beaming: they were through.