Seduction Breeds
by Nina
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I would be busy accidentally spilling plot secrets to my fans.
Dedication: This goes to Cassie, who let me borrow her Shakespeare muse. She also read it first and is my best friend and occasional worst enemy. Cassie, this is for you.
Beta: Sioniann, this story would be nothing without you. THANK YOU."And here I know seduction breeds from wanton hearts that would seduce, and grows and spreads its vine and leaves, embracing those who might have moved. But now remain to drink the night from vials black and thick with steam. Such intoxicating delights would leave you drunk inside this dream. And you watch them take the light from you." –"A Poetic Retelling of an Unfortunate Seduction" by Bright Eyes
Careful glances in the hallways made him realize what the other boys saw in her; a full figure, a mischievous smile. She had a look in her eyes that suggested she was thinking about you and only you, and that her mind was filled with dirty thoughts that made her tingle when she looked at you. That, he thought, was enough to make any boy feel special.
Her hands were graceful, reaching for the gravy boat at dinner, pushing flyaway flames of hair from her face.
He knew he loved her.
"Your move," Ginny said, staring at the chessboard where her only remaining pawn trembled in fear diagonally from Ron's bishop. Ron studied the board carefully for a couple of moments before running his hands through his hair in exasperation.
"Ginny, how many times do I have to tell you? The object of the game is to take the king. You just keep running around the board!"
"Maybe I'd be able to take your king if your pieces stopped pulverizing mine!"
Ron's eyebrows shot up and he fought back the impulse to laugh. He had been trying to teach his sister how to play chess from the time he had learned himself, but she had never caught on and always had to be reminded that she couldn't move into check.
"If you had moved your rook to the side you would have me in check. But since you didn't—" Ron called for his queen to move in front of Ginny's king (which he had cleverly surrounded with various pieces) and called out jubilantly, "checkmate!"
Brows knitting together, Ginny wrinkled her nose and yawned. Twilight was pressing dangerously at the windows, a summer twilight spread with stars and perfumed with apples, but neither of the siblings noticed until they looked up. And then, as if meant intentionally to disturb the quietness Ron and Ginny had sat so peacefully in, two cracksresounded in the kitchen.
"Ginny, Ron, wonderful to see you!"
"Absolutely terrific!"
"We would have thought to bring you presents, you know—"
"—but we'd rather you buy something at the shop." Fred and George took seats at the kitchen table and Fred picked up a chocolate biscuit and bit into it.
"What brings you here?" Ginny questioned interestedly, pulling her legs into her chair and sitting on them. George began to relate to Ginny how they had just come to retrieve a few boxes to take back to the store. ("Maybe we could put a few unsavory items in dear Fleur's bed," Fred quipped to Ginny's delight.) Ron stood.
"I'm going to bed," he said warily, making his way towards the stairs.
"But we just got here, little brother! George and I thought we could all sit together and talk like old times."
"Yeah Ron, please? It's been a long time since the four of us all sat and just talked," Ginny was leaning with her elbows on the table, looking thoroughly convincing, and though Ron was highly compelled to stay, he shook his head.
"No, Hermione will go mad if I'm not up at the crack of dawn to help her research H—stuff."
"Whatever you say," Ginny replied, turning to her other brothers and imitating Fleur's accent, repeating something the woman had complained about at lunch that day. A smile spread across Ron's face as he made his way into his room, where Hermione already lay asleep in a cot near the window.
"Ron?" the voice was familiar and cautioned, and came from what seemed like miles off. Raising his head groggily, Ron saw Hermione's face looming above him. "Are you awake?"
"No, Hermione, I'm not awake," he mumbled, sitting up and squinting his eyes. Hermione went to fold her cot into the corner of the room, her hair falling in curtains in front of her face when she leaned down to straighten a wrinkle in the blanket. She seemed to be glistening in the morning light.
"Would you quit staring at me and get dressed? We have lots of research on Horcruxes to do if we're going to be of any use to Harry." Her cheeks were tinged a slight pink as she snatched a few items of clothing from her trunk. She exited with an air of reluctance, the last note of on which Ron began his day, stretching his arms over his head.
He caught sight of red hair swishing around the corner, and felt a tenseness coursing through him, and memories of tickle-fights and games of prince-and-princess were running through his head as if a dam had broken, and in thinking of leaving he wondered how much he was leaving behind.
When Hermione returned, they were both dressed and she immediately began fussing about things that they needed to find out. Ron was hardly listening, blinking dumbly at her, her voice being drowned by another. 'Maybe I'd be able to take your king if your pieces stopped pulverizing mine…'
"Are you paying attention? We have to Apparate to Grimmauld Place and look in the library to see if there are any books on Horcruxes, or anything we find helpful, really."
"And why do we have to do this at this very moment?"
Hermione stared incredulously. "So we can destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes efficiently and correctly. We need to do this for Harry."
Ron's face turned dark and he looked down at his shoes.
"I, er—you know. I didn't pass my Apparition test."
It looked as if the thought had just dawned upon Hermione, and she contemplated silently for a moment. "Oh, yes… and we really don't want the Ministry to have an idea of what we're doing… maybe it would be best if you stayed here."
"Oh, do I have to?" Ron solicited sarcastically.
"Well, if you're going to be an ungrateful git—"
"Fine, fine. Go. Just, Hermione?"
"Hm?" she already had her eyes closed and her body poised to Apparate. He could practically hear her thinking, Destination. Determination. Deliberation.
"Be careful. Don't—don't do anything er—dangerous."
"Okay," Hermione whispered, her brows knitting together, whether in thought about Apparating or his sudden expression of concern, Ron didn't know, and then with a crack, she was gone.
A/N: Very much edited. Thank you Sioniann!