Defining Secrets // Ron Weasley

Chapter Nineteen: Painful Reminders and Things Are Better Left Unsaid

TW:

Panic attacks, traumatic flashbacks, mentions of death, wounding and blood mentioned. As well as period pain and cramps.

Nothing wrong with periods bbg's, which is why I decided to write about it. This is just for all my people with sensitivities <3

Remember, everybody has different experiences and reasons for being triggered, even if it doesn't always make sense to some. So let's keep it respectful over here!

Now... on with the show!

...

Hermione's POV:

Fred was being idiotic. Again.

"I'm just saying," the freckle faced boy that loved to see me scowl, shrugged. "I think you could have picked something better."

"Fred... it's pineapple. Stop acting like it's the end of the world."

"With the way that thing smells you can practically count on it."

He dramatically pinched his nose and grimaced as I opened the tube of lipstick and smeared it across my lips. He could complain about the smell all he wanted - but the last lipstick had run out and this was about the next best thing. Besides, there was something amusing about his disapproval.

I rolled my eyes and chose to ignore him. My only response was in defiance, choosing to apply more than was necessary just to watch him pull a face. It was fun annoying him. I could see why he always did it to me. I watched through the corner of my eye as Fred's nose scrunched and he closed his eyes as if the smell was invading his ability to see.

"Honestly, Fred. You can be so dramatic."

"I know I am, but what are you?"

I blinked back at him slowly. "That was pathetic."

"Well, what can I say? That ridiculous smell is affecting my brain cells."

I raised a brow. "You have those?"

He stared back at me, mouth agape. For a full minute his jaw couldn't decide between open and closed until I was worried it might dislocate. And I certainly didn't need him whining by my side, no matter how good the idea of him being unable to speak was.

"Hermione Granger - was that a marvellously backhanded insult I just heard?" He gasped. "I can't decide whether to be proud or offended."

"Neither would be best. In fact, the less you speak the better."

The idiot winked. "Whatever you say, sweetness."

"Don't call me that."

"But why not? It describes your sunny disposition just perfectly."

"Yes, because you sure know how to bring that out of me." My eyes already hurt from rolling them so much, so this time I decided against it. "Besides, you were annoying me about something else before. What was that again?"

"Oh, right!" Fred sprung up with a grin I couldn't tell if I liked or not. "Hold still."

I remained on his bed, patiently waiting and watching my feet dangle on the edge. I leant back until I collapsed onto the mattress. His sheets were surprisingly comfortable, and when I first came in I was surprised to see how much cleaner his side of the room was. The last time I was here, everything was chaos. Sheets without covers, clothes and books scattered around aimlessly. Even a handful of worn socks stuffed under his bed.