Harry Potter and The Other

Hermione was angry.

Ron was so sincere and straightforward that it was hard to stay mad at him for long—but still, not being mad at him at all was impossible. After healing his broken jaw, Hermione asked him for all the details of the disgraceful fight and was outraged to the core.

"Ron, how could you?!" she exclaimed, almost as sternly as Molly, as they walked toward the Ministry exit. "He didn't do anything to you, he was just walking by!"

"And why was he walking with that snake?" Ron grumbled. "And besides, he was acting all..."

"All what?"

"All like he needed a punch in the face, that's what! All dark and Death Eater-ish, you yourself said he needed to be exposed!"

"Ron, but I didn't say you should go punching him! That's not how it's done, Ron! First, you need to gather facts and get evidence—because if he's gone down the wrong path, there will be proof!"

"Stop nagging! 'Facts'... 'evidence'..." Ron mimicked her. "And until then, he gets to walk around unpunished, like it's no big deal, huh?"

"Ron, you're being rude!" Honestly, her sweet, beloved Ron could be unbearable sometimes. If she faced the truth, it was more often than she would have liked, but that was okay; they would get married soon, and then she would straighten him out. She wouldn't rest until he became exactly what he should be. "You're an adult now, you're a war hero, people look up to you, and you can't stop getting into fights? What will people think, Ron? That your parents didn't raise you properly?"

"Don't you dare talk about my parents! They raised me just fine!" Ron practically growled, growing more worked up by her words. "You deal with enemies quickly: see them—punch them! My father did the same; he didn't ask your permission!"

Hermione might have stayed quiet if she hadn't been so full of her own sense of rightness, telling her that this was wrong and that Ron was deliberately ignoring her.

"When we get home, I'll tell your mum everything, Ron! Just wait and see what she says!"

"Tattletale! You've always been one!"

"Ron, how dare you! I'm right!"

"Shove that 'right' of yours up your—!!!"

Hermione fell into an offended silence. Without looking at each other, they reached the Floo fireplace and transported themselves to the Burrow. Arthur and Ginny were already at the kitchen table, finishing dinner. In this family, meals went quickly.

Molly Weasley wasn't eating; she was waiting for Ron and Hermione and, upon seeing them in the hallway, filled their plates with hot, fragrant stew. They entered the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"You two took your time," Molly's displeased tone made it clear she was eager to hear why they had lagged behind the family. The matriarch was quite irritable after spending two hours watching that dolled-up floozy, Lily-Now-Snape, with her chubby Harrykins, and she couldn't help but recall the insults the brazen Mudblood had thrown at her and her family.

"Ron started a fight," Hermione reported, casting a vengeful look at her fiancé.

"A fight?!" Molly placed the stew bowl back on the stove and glared at her son.

"Mum, that Potter guy was there—the former Potter," Ron wasn't at all fazed by his mother's dramatic anger, having long studied all her tricks. "And he was acting like someone who needed a punch in the face! Mum, I used to be friends with that jerk!"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, how do you know it was him?! No one in the Order knows what he looks like, but you do?"

"Hermione told me, and she knows everything."

Indeed, the Order of the Phoenix wouldn't have known what Arcturus Travers looked like for a long time if it hadn't been for Hermione's persistence. Molly turned a questioning gaze to her.

"Yes, I told Ron," Hermione confirmed, staring into her plate. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to speak with the former Harry, and I did. I found out that now he's Travers-Black and lives in the Black house on Grimmauld Place. He's become terribly arrogant and doesn't want to know any of us, even though I offered him friendship."

"Well, isn't he fancy," Molly sneered, recalling all the pies and sweaters she had gifted the scruffy little boy while he was at Hogwarts. "He's taken the Black house and doesn't want to know us anymore. Ron, I hope he got what was coming to him?"

"Of course, Mum. And Hermione still said that you and Dad didn't raise me well." Ron shot Hermione the same vengeful look—let her feel what it's like when someone tattles on you.

Some things are always inappropriate. Nevertheless, there are circumstances where they are especially ill-timed. At another moment, Molly Weasley's offense might have remained a slight annoyance or not flared up at all—but not now, when she was vividly recalling how Lily had called her a dirty woman who didn't know how to raise children.

Molly's gaze froze on Hermione, and the red-haired woman's easily flushed face turned crimson with rage. The table fell into a dead silence—the family members were urgently deciding whether to keep watching the show or quietly slip away to avoid trouble.

"So, Miss Granger..." Mrs. Weasley hissed after a long, very expressive pause. "You don't like how my children were raised?!"

None of the family would have dared to say a word in front of such a furious Molly, but Hermione, when she felt she was right, wasn't afraid to argue, even with Snape. Her sense of justice was always strong, especially today. She should have said that she didn't mean anything by it, but she couldn't and wouldn't lie.

"But, Mum Molly, you can't deny that Ron is very hot-tempered and doesn't know how to behave at the table," she said earnestly, thinking that no argument could stand against such an obvious fact.

"And what are you doing in my family, Miss Granger, if you're so well-mannered?!" Molly was so enraged that she forgot the girl in front of her was her son's fiancée—or if she remembered, she saw it as an insignificant detail. Right now, she only saw a cheeky, meticulous upstart, as successful a competitor to pure-blooded witches as Lily Evans had been. Everything meant for Lily now rained down on Hermione.

"But..."

"What are you doing here if you're so smart, diligent, and perfect? Maybe no one else wants to associate with you, Miss Granger, since you're so wonderful?!"

"But I love Ron..." stammered a frightened Hermione.

"Love?! I saw your Mudblood love today! That red-haired tramp loved James for twenty years while he had health and money, but now he's broke and in St. Mungo's, and she suddenly stopped loving him? Oh, of course, 'the heart can't be commanded'..." Molly sneered mockingly.

"Maybe she really did stop loving him," Hermione said in a trembling voice, defending the trampled fairness. "We believe in equality, where a woman is equal to a man and has the right to leave her husband if she's fallen out of love and found someone else."

Molly was wise in the ways of the world; she understood perfectly well that her son wasn't exactly reaching for the stars and that a capable girl like Hermione could easily become disappointed in him once the heat of passion cooled.

"So she has the right, does she?! To leave him?! Well, girl, with that attitude toward marriage, you won't be marrying my son!!! I don't want you tossing him aside like an old rag once you get comfortable with us and become completely brazen! Maybe among Muggles it's normal to leave your husband at the slightest provocation, but only the worst harlots do that here! Get out of my house this instant, Miss Granger!!!"

Hermione, utterly shocked by Mrs. Weasley's final words, sat frozen on her stool, opening and closing her mouth soundlessly.

"Did I say something unclear?!" Molly moved in close to her. "Out of my house!!! Get up and go!!!"

Mrs. Weasley emphasized her words with a gesture toward the kitchen door. Hermione looked in the direction of the woman's finger, then at the rest of the family, sitting quietly at the kitchen table. Neither Ron's father nor her best friend Ginny made any move to defend her. When she met Ron's eyes, he didn't look away, and there was a hidden glee in his gaze.

Hermione jumped up and ran to the room she shared with Ginny. There, she hastily stuffed her things into her bottomless bag and rushed to the fireplace, escaping through it to the Leaky Cauldron—the first place that came to her mind.

Molly Weasley triumphantly surveyed the now-empty battlefield and took a deep breath, calming herself. No one at the table dared to move, and only when Hermione's hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor toward the fireplace, Ginny asked in a shocked voice:

"Mum, did you really kick her out for good?"

"Yes, dear, for good. I don't want my son to end up with the same fate as James. I'm sure that girl will make a career for herself, build a position, and find herself a more cultured, higher-status husband. I wouldn't be surprised if she ends up with someone like Malfoy, leaving Ron with nothing. She'll say she's fallen out of love—it's easy for Mudbloods to do that. No, thank you, we don't need that kind of happiness!"

"But Mum, what about Ron?"

Everyone's eyes turned to Ron, who didn't seem particularly upset. He didn't mind Hermione; he liked her. He enjoyed her obvious interest and was flattered by her jealousy. He thought she was a good fit, but not the only one. His large manly heart had room for more than just Hermione—there was space for Lavender Brown too. And there would be room for someone else if that "someone else" happened to show him attention. Right now, he was angry at Hermione and found his mother's outburst somewhat relieving.

"Ron?!" Molly asked sternly. "You understand this is all for your sake, don't you? You should marry a modest, homely girl who won't criticize your upbringing and won't turn her back on you because of her so-called equality!"

"Mum, I told you ages ago Lavender was better," Ron reminded her. "And what did you say to that?"