A/N: Written for the triatha_ron challenge on LiveJournal.
It’s a little different for me, but I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are
always welcome and appreciated!
Little White Ones
Everything he told her was a lie.
At the beginning he thought nothing of it; it was just
Lavender Brown. And what he told her wasn’t really a lie, just a harmless
little untruth. To avoid hurting her feelings. He’d
never got on with her very well—not after the rabbit and Uranus incidents especially—so
he couldn’t understand why she was so interested in talking to him, but she
looked pretty with her cheeks pink from the cold, and she’d rested her hand on
his. And he could see out of the corner of his eye that Hermione was watching. He couldn’t not lie about it.
“Ron, you were fantastic! Did you see me cheering for you?”
“Er...yeah. Yeah, of course!
That little white lie led to a very enjoyable evening of snogging in the common
room, in front of everyone. Everyone. He couldn’t remember
how it got to snogging, exactly, or who started it, but it didn’t take long,
and it was one of the most satisfying things he’d ever done.
When the opportunity presented itself to tell more little lies, why should he
not? Telling the truth would just complicate things, and what he liked about
Lavender was that she wasn’t complicated. Not at all.
“Have you ever gone to an empty classroom with a girl
“Sure, loads of times.”
“Ronnie, what happened to your arms? You poor
“Erm, nothing, really. Misfired spell is all.”
“Would your cuts feel better if I kissed them?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“What was Hermione Granger so upset about, anyway?”
The lies weren’t making anyone worse off. Better, in fact. Maybe he should have
been doing this all along, to save himself the trouble. Lavender was so easy to
please. She didn’t want to talk things over all the time, she didn’t scold him,
she didn’t harp on him about his homework—sometimes he wondered if she did any
of her own except for Divination. He liked the fact that they didn’t argue, and
if a few little lies here and there ensured there wouldn’t be any problems
between them, so be it.
“Did you like your necklace, Won-Won?”
“Why aren’t you wearing it?”
“I’m saving it for special occasions. You know, don’t want it to get
lost or stolen or anything.”
“Do you like the name Won-Won?”
Besides, sometimes they weren’t even lies. He was just letting her believe he’d
said something he hadn’t. If she misinterpreted, that was her problem, not his.
No one could blame him for it.
“I love you. Do you love me?”
“Do you think we’ll be together forever?”
“Do you ever imagine what it would be like to get married?”
He was just making noises while he snogged her. She
was the one reading into them. If they led to her putting his hands on her
breasts, well, that was worth it, wasn’t it?
Of course, not all things last. Ron wasn’t sure of the exact
point he lost interest in her—maybe it was more of a gradual thing—but he knew
when he started admitting it to himself. Almost dying will do that to a
bloke. But from the second he woke up he wanted nothing to do with her. The
problem was he couldn’t figure out how to let her know that without creating a
scene. So he figured out how to lie to her without saying anything at all, and
that wasn’t even real lying.
“Won-Won, are you awake?”
“I wish you weren’t asleep every time I came to see you. I miss you.”
“I talked to Harry today, and I’m a little upset, Won-Won. Why won’t you ever
wake up when I visit you? Are you awake when Hermione Granger visits you?”
From then on, he barely had opportunity to lie to her; he was always avoiding
her, running the other direction when he saw her. He’d even taken to hiding
behind Hermione at times, though he didn’t think she was much
amused by that. The problem was that talking to Lavender was inevitable
while she still considered herself his girlfriend—he’d stopped thinking of her
that way long since. And when he did talk to her the
lies were more prolific than ever. They didn’t even seem to help anymore.
“Where have you been all day, Ron?”
“I’ve been around. Haven’t you seen me?”
“No! I never see you anymore! Are you trying to avoid me?”
“No, I’ve just been busy.”
“Well, will you make time for me later?”
“I’ll try. Advanced Potions has me swamped.”
“Have you been finding time to spend with Hermione Granger?”
“No, she was just helping me study.”
But then everything changed. Ron didn’t think anything
of following Harry down to the common room with Hermione trailing behind
him. It didn’t occur to him that no one would be able to see Harry, that it looked as if he was brazenly coming
downstairs alone with another girl while still attached to Lavender. It
didn’t occur to him, that is, until he heard her irate shrieks. Then it
was all too clear.
So that’s how came to be in the corridor, Lavender
screeching at him almost incoherently through her tears. The Fat Lady
glared down at him over Lavender’s shoulder, looking ready to join in the
“What were you doing up there with her, alone?”
“We weren’t alone!”
“Yes you were! You were doing something with
her! How could you?”
“We weren’t doing anything like that, I swear!”
For the first time in their relationship, Ron was telling
the truth, and for the first time Lavender thought he
“Did you kiss her?”
“Have you been getting off with her behind my back?”
“Don’t lie to me, Ronald!”
There was a brief pause in which Lavender
caught her breath and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. Her breath
came in shudders, and she looked a mess. Ron had never felt so guilty
before—well, not in a while, anyway. What she said next came out calmly,
quietly, in a tone that wasn’t accusatory but rather resigned and sad.
“Do you fancy her?”
Ron was done lying to her to
preserve her feelings. He could see that it was really
himself he was lying to, and had been all along. Lavender’s
feelings were already hurt, and he was responsible. He had to stop this.