About You, Ron Weasley.

Chapter Six

Chapter Six 

"And if a double decker bus, crashes into us / to die by your side, is such a heavenly way to die." 

August sat in the champions' tent, pacing back and forth as he adjusted his bright green and silver robes. He hears a whisper at the edge of the tent, and looks, peering out, to see Arden and Meissa, arms folded over Arden's chest as they wait – nervously – for August to open the flaps to the tent. He pulls them both inside, his lips curving into a gentle smile as he embraces them both, feeling awfully queasy.

"You shouldn't be here," he mutters, kissing Arden's head.

"We wanted to see you, just in case– You know... Anything happened." Arden sniffles, burying her nose into his neck and inhaling his scent. His cologne, the smell similar to cinnamon and cigarettes that Arden never complained about, some might say it was too sweet or crisp, but she found comfort in it and it helped her sleep at night.

"Be careful, yeah?" Meissa asks, pulling him in for a hug, and he nods his head, pulling away after a brief moment, and pulling Arden in for another embrace. He kisses her on the lips, and the two of them stay there for a moment, in each other's arms. He tasted like apples and honey – sweet and sour – and she wanted to memorize his taste for a lifetime.

August realizes Krum is facing off against Rita Skeeter, who had just taken a picture of Harry and Hermione together. "Viktor, it's fine. She's just some lowlife journalist, she'll be gone as soon as the cup is over. Dumbledore probably doesn't even want her here." Meissa mutters, looking to Krum and back to Rita, who looked offended at the youthful blonde.

"And you might be?" Rita asks, as the Quick-Notes Quill pauses, floating in the air as Rita Skeeter looks to the group of students with interest.

"Bite me," Meissa mutters, pushing past her and out of the tent. Krum grins, and so does August, and Hermione follows after her, as they walk past Dumbledore. Arden stays, her hand laced in August's from behind his back.

Outside the tent, Hermione looks at the blonde-haired Slytherin – who, with a grimace of a smirk, watches the Muggle-born take a stance at her side. "You can go back to your boyfriend," Meissa reassures Hermione, who shakes her head – appalled. "H-He's not my boyfriend," Hermione stammers out, and Meissa scoffs. "Right, and I'm the Queen of England." She retorted sarcastically.

"Meissa, I don't like Harry." Hermione insists. "I thought that was well obvious the moment I sat next to you on the train earlier this year. But, if you're just as thick as Ron when it comes to Rue, then so be it." Hermione insists, and Meissa looks at her, shocked and grinning.

"Really?" Hermione nods, looking away with watery eyes. Meissa takes her hand, and places a kiss on it, stepping back just in time for Dumbledore and the staff to step out of the tent. "C'mon, we're going to miss our friends." She mutters, and they walk towards the stands, hand in hand – not noticing the knowing expressions that Dumbledore and Minerva shared with each other.

"Do we have to keep this a secret?" Hermione asks.

"I mean, we can do the Dean and Seamus thing and keep it a secret for half our relationship, or we can just be out in the open. If that's what you want to call this," Meissa tells her as they walk up the steps to the bleachers. Hermione watches her, amused, as they pause on the steps – inclined to stare at each other more than they'd realized.

"I'd like that. But, you talk a lot... Dean and Seamus?" Hermione asks in a whisper, leaning forward slightly. Meissa nods, leaning into her touch and grinning. "I know," the blonde grins, as Hermione's lips connect with her cheek from where they're concealed from their friends. Meissa sways slightly from against the railing, and as they turn the corner, she hesitates – clearly not looking forward to her two best friends' doom.