The Sugar Quill
Author: Elucreh  Story: Love Conquers All  Chapter: Chapter 1: Love Conquers All
The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

A/N #1: Elucreh is too lazy to make her own executive decisions, therefore if you want to know how they wound up back in Grimmauld Place and why Harry is not still in the throes of agony, go read Jack Ichijouji’s Laughter which tells you all that better than she could, anyway.

Dedicated to Abbey, who needs to have her faith in men restored…perhaps they aren’t all prats? Maybe, every once in a while, one of them really only meant to tell you that you were a delicate rose? Keep searching…the idiocy of one is not the idiocy of all. I love you.


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Love Conquers All


It was Harry’s birthday, and his friends and family had gathered at 12 Grimmauld Place to see to it he turned sixteen properly.

The cake had been eaten, the songs sung, the presents opened, the hugs given, the kisses from Mrs. Weasley successfully avoided (for the most part). Now the party had settled to that stage that all parties have: people scattered in groups, some of them still idly nibbling chocolate.

Rather inevitably, the adults were now huddled together and worrying in low voices. The members of the DA had gathered in the parlor, standing in an irregular circle and determinedly talking about Quidditch, their new textbooks, robe styles, and

“Hey! They’ve redesigned the chocolate frog cards!” Ernie exclaimed, peering at the Dumbledore he’d just unwrapped. The frog hopped away, unnoticed. He was right. The cards were longer, and in a new font. “And this time they’re including personal mottoes, looks like.”

“What do you mean, personal mottoes?” Harry asked, turning from his argument with Ginny over defensive Seeker moves to peer at the card.

“Most witches and wizards choose mottoes…they’re printed on letterheads, mostly, now, but they used to be put on a personal coat of arms,” Hermione informed them. “The school’s motto was chosen by all the founders on the occasion of Godric Gryffindor’s attempt to tickle a sleeping dragon, but the houses simply took the personal motto of their founder.”

Ron grinned. “Hogwarts, a History?”

Hermione looked as though she were forcing herself to smile back. “Honestly, Ron, where else?”

“So what were the Founders’ mottoes?” Justin interrupted curiously. “I mean, I know ours, of course—“

“What’s that?” Colin asked.

“’Quidvis recte factum quamvis humile praeclarum. Whatever is rightly done, however humble, is noble.’” Hermione replied. “Rowena Ravenclaw chose, ‘Nullum saeculum magnis ingeniis clausum est: No era is closed to the great intellects.’ Slytherin’s was very…honest. ‘Cui bono?: For whose benefit is it?’ And Godric’s was…anyone?”

“I do know that much,” Ron said. “’Fortes fortuna adiuvat: Fortune favors the brave.’”

“Right.”

“So what’s Dumbledore’s, then, Ernie?” Harry asked.

“Says here, ‘Aliquando et insanire iucundum est.’”

Harry laughed. “’It is sometimes pleasant even to act like a madman.’ How Dumbledore.”

“Has anybody thought about what they’d use?” Ginny asked curiously. “I’ve never given it much thought.”

“Had to, little sister,” Fred said, grinning. “The Wheezes needed a letterhead.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” said Angelina.

“In his ordo est ordinem non servare,” George informed her. *In this case, the only rule is not obeying any rules.*

The crowd laughed. Lee threw in, “I’ve always liked, ‘Sedit qui timuit ne non succederet.’” *He who feared he would not succeed sat still.*

The conversation took off. It turned out that most of the DA members were familiar with the custom and had given it thought, off and on.

Dean, who was sketching the worry in Mrs. Weasley’s eyes as he talked, said that he wanted, “Ars longa, vita brevis.” *Art is long, life is short.*

Colin was considering, “Semper fidelis,” *Always faithful.*

Padma: “Cras amet qui numquam amavit quique amavit cras amet.” *Let him love tomorrow who has never loved and let he who has loved love tomorrow.*

Justin: “Ignis aurum probat, miseria fortes viros.” *Fire tests gold, adversity tests strong men.*

Parvati joked, “Mine should be, ‘Anulos qui animum ostendunt gestemus!’ or maybe ‘Id tibi praebat speciem lepidissimam!’” *Let’s all wear mood rings!* *It looks great on you!*

“Right,” her best friend said. “And my letterhead will read ‘Lavender Brown: Quomodo cogis comas tuas sic videri?’” *How do you get your hair to do that?*

The crowd laughed with them. “Well, it would still be better than Crabbe and Goyle’s recommended, ‘Vis consili expers mole ruit sua.’” *Brute force bereft of wisdom falls to ruin by its own weight.’*

“No, seriously…” Parvati said thoughtfully, ”I love the idea of living by the principle, ‘Amor est vitae essentia.’” *Love is the essence of life.* She wrapped an arm around her sister and hugged Lavender with the other.

“In these times,” Lavender murmured, hugging back, “I like to remember ‘Forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit.’” * Perhaps someday we will look back upon these things with joy.* There was silence a moment.

Luna broke the sudden stillness. “Ever since I was small, mine’s been ‘Credo quia abdsurdum.’” *I believe it because it is contrary to reason.* Harry gave her a grateful glance, and she asked, “What about you, Harry?”

“Nihil declaro,” he replied, throwing up his hands in mock surrender.*I have nothing to declare.* “I’ve never heard of this tradition, I’ve never thought about it.”

“You will now, though?” she asked solemnly.

“Yes, I will…I’d like to see what I come up with.”

The discussion began flowing again, “Faber est suae quisque fortunae.” *Each man is the smith of his own fortune.* “Respice, adspice, prospice.”*Examine the past, examine the present, examine the future.* “Non scholae sed vitae discimus.” *We learn not for school, but for life.*

“What about you, Hermione?” Ron asked. “’Nullus est liber tam malus ut non aliqua parte prosit,’ or ‘Bene legere saecla vincere,’ eh, helluo librorum?” *There is no book so bad that it is not profitable in some way* *To read well is to master the ages.* *Bookworm*

“Ron! Is that all you think my life is about? All I’m interested in?”

There was a sudden withdrawal of people from the bend in the circle where they faced each other. “Oh, no, here we go,” Harry muttered under his breath. “Nos morituri te salutant.” *We, who are about to die, salute you.*

At the other end, Padma murmured to Parvati, “Amantium irae amoris integratio’st.” *The quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love.*

Parvati smirked back. “Credo nos in fluctu eodem esse.” *I think we’re on the same wavelength.*

Hermione hadn’t let up. “Well, for your information, that is not all I am interested in, and even if it were, I wouldn’t necessarily be choosing it for a motto. If that were the only guideline, yours would have to be, ‘Veni, Vidi, Dormivi.’” *I came, I saw, I slept.*

“Hermione…I didn’t mean to say…”

“Well, obviously his couldn’t possibly be, ‘Cogito Ergo Sum,’” Ginny muttered disgustedly. *I think, therefore I am.*

Lavender rolled her eyes. “Hic puer est stultissimus omnium!”*This boy is the stupidest of all!*

Hermione looked like she really was close to losing it this time. “Why is she so…violent over this?” Padma whispered.

“Oh, that’s right, I hadn’t told you…They were in the middle of a dreadful quarrel when I got here…Ron was off on his ‘all those books are dull’ routine--” Ginny interrupted Lavender’s explanation with an impatient sound—“and Hermione just burst into tears and came rushing down and saw me, and, well…”

“She saw both of us,” Ginny cut in. “And we decided to take advantage of her being so upset and see if we couldn’t wheedle an admission or two out of her.”

Ginny!” Lavender protested.

“What? It’s true…and we succeeded, didn’t we?”

“Ooo…” Parvati breathed. “What did she say?”

“Well…part of it’s that she’s about to hit the curse, or she wouldn’t have said nearly as much…but it all just kind of spilled out of her. She wants him,” Ginny made a slight face, “and she doesn’t want him to think she’s dull, and then she gets mad at him because she doesn’t want to have to change to have him like her, and then she doesn’t want him to like her at all because he’s her best friend, and what about being friends and what about Harry, but oh, she just can’t take not knowing anymore, but she knows she can’t take knowing he doesn’t feel the same way…”

“I’m starting to get the picture.” Padma said, eyeing the two of them. Hermione was still at full steam. Ron appeared to be trying every few sentences to apologise, but it was clear she wasn’t buying it. Or possibly was so livid she wasn’t hearing him. “But…why on earth did he say that? Did he even make up with her? I’ve not seen anything, and I must have got here just after you wiped her tears and made her come down for the party.”

Ginny groaned. “No, he hasn’t said anything, he just forgot they’d quarreled, they always quarrel, and it doesn’t seem to have hit him he really affected her this time.”

“So now he’s just teased her again about being obsessed with books…when he did it three hours ago and it made her burst into tears.”

“Right,” the others agreed gloomily.

“Ginny…your brother’s a prat.”

“Are you expecting me to argue?”

Hermione was beginning to wind up her tirade. “Just so you know, Ron, I do care about things besides my books! I care about my friends, and about my family, and about my cat. I care about walking around the lake with the wind in my hair, and I care about playing Exploding Snap with you and Harry, and I care, odd as it may seem, about this stupid fight against Voldemort!” By this point she was shrieking the final word. Almost as one, the entire room flinched, but Hermione only saw her victim. “And STOP WINCING!! How dare you, after all we’ve been through, when you know me better than anyone, how dare you imply that over bravery and friendship and justice and love, I would choose as the overruling statement about my life ‘Otium sine litteris mors est et hominis vivi sepultra’?” *Leisure without literature is death, or rather the burial of a living man*

Hermione was out of breath, now, sucking in air in heaving gasps. “You are my best friend, and that is what you think of me…oh, antiques temporibus, nati tibi similes in rupibus ventosissimis exponebantur ad necem!” *In the good old days, children like you were left to perish on windswept crags.*

Most of the room was in stunned silence. The four girls at the end of the circle were in stunned, approving silence. Each of them was silently cheering on their sister in the war against the stupidity and the blind hurtfulness of men, casting the occasional loathing glance at the idiot who represented everything wrong with men.

“HERMIONE!” Ron finally managed to get her attention…she couldn’t speak anymore, she was too winded, and he was towering over her, only about three inches from the end of her nose. “I’m sorry. I was only kidding. I do know you, I do know you better than anyone else ever could, and I would never, ever think that books are more important to you than your parents, or this fight we’re in, or Harry, or…me. Do you want to know what I really think would sum you up perfectly? What I really think of you, no teasing?” He was clearly in earnest, emotions rippling out of him as he looked at her, half in a temper himself at being so misunderstood.

The huddle of girls were holding a collective breath, and Hermione expelled a tiny gust of it on a “What?”, her heart in her eyes, looking up at him.

Ron raised a finger to raise her chin and murmured appreciatively in one of the world’s most ancient languages, “Saepe creat molles aspera spina rosas.” *Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses.*

The sorority at the end of the room gave a whoosh as the air slipped from their lungs.

Hermione breathed out another soft, “What?” But this one was different, this one wasn’t resentful, this one was full of bewilderment and hope.

Ron seemed to realize what he’d just done and dropped his hand. He half-turned away and said, with a forced laugh, “Bene, cum Latine nescias, nolo manus meas in te maculare.” *Well, if you don’t understand plain Latin, I’m not going to dirty my hands on you.*

Hermione swallowed and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him back. “Ron…what did you say?”

“Mea culpa…indulgentiam quaeso…”he muttered, as though keeping this in a foreign tongue would keep him safe. *My mistake, I ask your indulgence.*

“Frangar non flectar…” Hermione whispered. *I am broken, I am not deflected.*

“Paenitere,” he muttered. “Hence, ira furor brevis est, et amare et sapere vix deo conceditur.” *I’m sorry…It’s just that anger is a brief insanity, and even a god finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time.*

He left the room. Hermione, after a moment’s shellshock, ran after him. The entire room was nonplussed. Finally, Lavender broke the ice.

“Illiud Latine dici non potest,” she protested. *You can’t say that in Latin.*

Everyone laughed. “Ah, well,” Seamus said cheerily. “Amantes sunt amentes.” *Lovers are lunatics.*



Hermione caught Ron by the shoulders just at the first landing. “Did you mean that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I meant it,” he said. “I’ve never meant anything more…”

“Then why?”

“I knew you couldn’t…love me back…”

“Who says?”

“It’s obvious, Hermione…I can see that…”

“Vos vestros servate, meos mihi linquite mores,” she told him, daringly. *You keep to your own ways and leave mine to me.*

But he seemed to be past hearing her, as she had been oblivious to him. “You’re so…smart and sweet and beautiful and…I’ve never had much, I can’t offer you expensive presents…”

“Potest ex casa magnus vir exire,” she stumbled on it, rushing as always to assure him, trying to show him that it didn’t matter, not to her, not to anyone…*A great man can come from a hut.*

“And I have a lousy temper and I swear and I don’t pay attention in class…”

“Vitiis nemo sine nascitur.” *No one is born without faults.*

“You deserve someone better than me…” his voice trailed off in hopelessness.

“Now you listen to me, Ronald Mary Weasley,” she said, putting one palm on either side of his face and forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You are all I want. I have been in love with you for years , and if you think for one minute that I’m going to let you tell me you love me and then just walk away, you have another think coming.”

He gaped at her. And then he sprang, pressing his lips to hers, bringing his hands up inside hers to hold her face against his.



Omnia vincit amor, et nos cedamus amori: Love conquers all, and let us yield to it.


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A/N #2: Disclaimer: As per usual, JKR owns the universe, the characters, and the romantic tension. Elucreh owns only the “ plotline.” It should be noted that Elucreh did not come up with any of the Latin sayings; she stole all of them and her translations of them from The Yuni Latin Library, where everybody who thinks Latin is cool should go. The upside to this is that if anything was mistranslated, Elucreh is innocent this time.The idea that Ron’s middle name should be Mary is something from Ady’s fics…she can’t remember which one mentions it first…and it’s an idea she finds so funny and appropriate that, until JKR tells her otherwise, that’s what it will be.

A/N #3: Yes, there will actually be a SEQUEL to this one…almost entirely different in nature. In case nobody noticed, I’ve become obsessed w/ quotes in Latin lately…I want to do at least one more fic exploring the idea of personal mottoes, this one Harry thinking abt it, post-party, and most likely while Ron and Hermione are snogging somewhere. Totally different tone, however…very contemplative and possibly angsty.

In the meantime…I like reviews! I really really like reviews!
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