Hello again. I'd like to quickly thank all of you that read and reviewed my last story. A few of you requested that I write another HBP missing moment, so here it is. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed taking a break from work to write it. I definitely needed the break...
Please review and let me know what you think.
~Ellie
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A Talk With Ronald | ||||
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Category: Post-HBP Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley Genres: Angst Warnings: Mild Language Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 8 Summary: HBP Missing moment-- H/G and R/H A nervous Hermione confronts Ron about a changing relationship around them. Set directly after the Ginny/Dean breakup but before the big kiss in the common room. Hitcount: Story Total: 5494 Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work. Author's Notes: |
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Hermione Granger stood perfectly still aside from the nervous twitching dance her hands performed at her sides. Waiting for the twosome to appear atop the currently vacant stairwell was taking much longer than she originally anticipated. A laboriously dramatic sigh to her left drew her attention briefly to a red-haired girl perched on the arm of a gold Gryffindor sofa, tapping her foot in a no-nonsense manner. “Five more minutes, that’s all I ask.” Hermione pleaded. “Five minutes,” she huffed, her foot beating a tattoo against the stone floor. “Five minutes...that’s what you said ten minutes ago.” Tap. Tap. Tap, tap, tap. Tap. Tap. Getting increasingly frustrated with the lack of patience from her foot-tapping friend, she added in her practiced, expertly clipped tone, “I’m doing this for your own good, you know.” “What? Starving me to death?” the other girl queried incredulously, then added the next question without trying to hide her amused smile, “How is that for my benefit, other than to annoy you with my foul mood?” Catching her friend’s eye, Hermione could not help but be charmed and cracked a grin of her own. “I apologize for your suffering. It can’t be much longer. Ron’s hunger pains are as precise as an alarm on a clock: 7:15am sharp.” Looking down to her wristwatch, she frowned. “Well, at least they used to be.” Sighing, she contemplated the possibility that in the span of a few short months of purposely not minding his schedule could have thrown her completely unaware of his normal behavioral patterns. She chortled darkly to herself, and here she thought him utterly predictable. Her thoughts were interrupted by a mocking moan laced with sporadic bubbles of laughter. “Ohhhhh. It sorrows me to know my hunger pains fall second to his. Where is the love? Where is the friendship?” She theatrically proclaimed and fell back onto the sofa with a flourish of arms and giggles. Rolling her eyes, Hermione laughingly supplied, “Ginny Weasley, you must be the most dramatic person I know,” and after a brief pause added, “and that’s a big role to fill.” Her gaze lingered on Ginny’s petite form as she struggled against the deep cushions to a sitting position with her feet resting soundlessly on the hearth rug. A commotion from the stairwell left Hermione’s stomach in her throat in anticipation of confronting Ron, only to find a gaggle of second year boys recklessly making their way to the portrait hole. She watched shrewdly as they laughed and shoved one another playfully. Her inner prefect leapt at the opportunity to chastise the unruly bunch but placating Ginny after such a spectacle would most certainly demand her full attention. She could not afford to have the tenacious redhead slip down to breakfast while Hermione was caught up in prefect duties, not that they weren’t important. As if on cue, Ginny groaned and sat heavily back into her seat resuming her pseudo-grumpy mood as quickly as she had lost it not two minutes earlier. “Ugghhhh. Why do they get to go to breakfast and I have to stay here and wait on Harry? I’m hungry, Hermione. You know I didn’t get to eat dinner last night because of detention,” crossing her arms in an exaggerated sulk, displaying her prize-winning pout. At this statement, Hermione considered her chance ripe for finally reprimanding Ginny on her irresponsible pranking habits. Adopting her most pretentious attitude she sat gently on the sofa arm the other teen recently vacated and said, “In that case, I suggest you think twice before charming the ends of Professor Slughorn’s mustache to attack his tongue, or anything of the like. It’s one thing to prank a student, but a professor, Ginny?” “But he laughed and gave me a pat on the head,” she exclaimed triumphantly. “He said something as well but I couldn’t quite make it out since his mustache had a wicked grip on his tongue at that point.” Ginny waved dismissively, “Anyway, he wasn’t the one to give me the detention.” It was Hermione’s turn to be petulant, “I don’t understand. Professor Slughorn let you get away with pranking him during a potions class? Why?” “Hell if I know. But McGonagall did not find it quite as funny. She’s the one that gave the sentencing. That stupid Slytherin let it slip in Transfiguration.” Under her breath she added conspiratorially, “Oh, he’ll get it, that Slytherin slimball.” Sitting in stunned silence Hermione processed the ridiculous new low her potions professor had reached. Often finding Professor Slughorn silly and petty in his own way, she could not refute his ability as a potions master, though she could deny his capability to keep a proper classroom. She would never think twice about giving a student detention if they had pranked her. “Hermione, what’s going on? Will you please tell me why you’ve asked this favor of me? Neville would have been perfectly capable of walking with Harry to the dining hall. In fact, Harry’s a big boy now and can walk by himself... I dare say he’s accomplished greater feats in his lifetime.” Ginny’s sarcasm was not lost on Hermione but she chose to ignore it and answer her friend as honestly as possible without giving away pertinent information. “I have asked you to accompany Harry to breakfast so I may speak with Ron privately, without the awkwardness of asking Harry to leave.” Nodding resolutely Ginny said, “Fair enough. I’ll wait.” As if protesting her announcement, her stomach gave a mighty growl that sent both girls into a fit of laughter. Sobering slightly, Ginny raised her head and asked the question Hermione had hoped to avoid. “Why do you need to talk with Ron? I mean, I know you said it was private and you didn’t want to talk in front of Harry, but is it something you can tell me?” Hermione stood abruptly, eyes casting around for a subject change, her brain refusing to oblige. Finally, she settled on, “At this moment, I’d rather not say. You’ll find out soon enough, perhaps.” She looked down to the sofa to find Ginny smirking up at her. “You’re going to kiss him, aren’t you?” Her smirk growing ever wider. It took two blinks for Hermione to catch up. “WHAT? No....” Embarrassingly, she could feel her face heat with longstanding emotion and decided being honest with Ginny wouldn’t hurt in light of the conversation she was about to have with her brother. “Not yet,” she finished lamely with a small smile on her face. The younger girl clapped excitedly at the news and replied, “Make him earn a kiss after the nonsense he made you deal with for most of the school year. As mum would preach, ‘why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?’” Grinning in response, Hermione stated, “Trust me, nothing is free around here.” “Unless you’re Lavender Brown.” Ginny quipped, sending them into hysterics, neither missing the irony of the conversation. Consumed by their giggles a pair of young men descending the stairwell unnoticed, coming to a halt behind the sofa and watched them with interest. “Well, Ron, it looks like we missed quite the joke.” Harry mused. At the sound of his voice, Hermione spun her head around to see their smiling faces but only met Ron’s eyes. Trying her best to ignore the rush of butterflies in her middle, she looked to Harry for a distraction. It pleased her to see him gazing contentedly at her companion’s pretty face. In a blaze of red, Ginny was off the sofa and launching herself at Harry. “Thank God!” She exclaimed while grabbing his elbow and pulling him in the direction of the portrait hole. “I didn’t think you’d ever get out of bed. Let’s eat! I might die soon if I don’t...” The sound of Ginny’s voice decreased to an incomprehensible chatter as they made their way out of the common room. At the last moment, Harry turned back to look at his two best friends with an expression of supreme victory and flashed his widest grin as his head disappeared from view. “What is she going on about?” Ron queried as he moved forward to follow. Suddenly jerking back to reality, Hermione grabbed his hand and said, “Ron, wait! I–I need to speak with you privately.” Stopping in his tracks, he simply said, “Okay,” looking down to their joined hands with what she thought was a measure of hope in the single word. It made her stomach flop in a way that had nothing to do with her lack of breakfast. Steeling herself for the impending explosion, she took a deep breath. “I think it might be best if you sit down.” His eyes met hers in alarm and hastily nodded in reaction to her serious countenance. Dropping his hand she began to pace the length of the sofa he quickly and quietly occupied. Looking down to her polished loafers in an effort to delay, she attempted to grasp the rehearsed speech she sat up half the night creating. Much to her dismay, her palms were becoming more damp with every step and concentrating seemed close to impossible. Undertaking this particular conversation with Ron under normal circumstances would be uncomfortable enough, not to mention having it after not speaking for four solid months. They had only recently made up but their friendship was like a castle made of cards, which could be brought down by the slightest breeze. Her eyes roamed the entire space of the common room to reassure herself that they were, in fact, alone. She was satisfied but startled as Ron spoke. “Am I in trouble? With you, I mean...” He asked seriously. Glancing over to his rigid form and bright eyes, she lifted the corners of her mouth in a shy smile, happy for the interruption. “No, Ron.” His evident relief gave her the confidence she needed to begin. “It’s about Harry.” She stated plainly. Brow creasing in confusion, Ron asked, “Then why aren’t you talking to him?” “Well, the situation’s not that simple.” Once again grasping for her planned speech, she resumed pacing. “It’s a forewarning really...to plan ahead....and get used to the idea that....well.....” Two large hands closed firmly around her upper arms, just below her shoulders, and Ron’s face was suddenly very close to her own. All the air seemed to evaporate at his touch and she had to tilt her head back several inches to meet his blue gaze. Fear and disappointment were clearly etched on his face and he shook her slightly as he spoke. “Tell me, Hermione.” Her name fell off his lips like a sweet endearment, and she thought wildly that she would never tire of hearing him say her name. Self-consciously licking her lips, she forced herself to speak, not once breaking eye contact. “I have it on good authority that Harry intends to date Ginny.” The anger she expected from her admission did not come, nor did any emotion. Ron’s was face deceptively blank. “Your sister...,” she supplied stupidly in order to dispel any confusion as to which Ginny was being referred. “He fancies her.” Maniacal laughter rang in her ears and a sudden coolness indicated he had released his hold on her. She took a few rapid steps back to keep herself upright, realizing his grip had been more than a ploy to get her to speak. “What is the matter with you?!” she demanded hotly, as he fell back against the gold cushions that clashed horribly with his hair. Angry not only at herself for responding so heavily to his touch but at him for being, for the second time that day, completely unpredictable. Swatting the tears of laughter from his eyes, he sighed with relief. “Oh bloody hell, Hermione. I thought maybe you were trying to tell me...well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Saying the last part mostly to himself, he shook his head spending shaggy red hair into his eyes then looked up to her with an expression she could not quite place. “What doesn’t matter? I don’t understand. Why aren’t you angry about this?” She stamped her foot in emphasis, on the verge of losing her temper completely. Where was the hot-headed Ron Weasley she knew? After all, it was his absurd tantrum over Ginny’s last relationship that began the downfall of their friendship. Sitting forward to rest his elbows upon knobby knees, he stated calmly, “Do you think you’re telling me something I didn’t know? Believe it or not, I do have eyes and even though I don’t always understand other people, I do, for the most part, understand Harry.” To her relief he shifted his penetrating gaze to his hands. Feeling oddly deflated at his response, Hermione sunk down into the empty space beside Ron. “So, you’ve suspected this all along?” He shrugged as best as he could while remaining hunched over his knees. “Since last summer, I guess. I could tell there was something different in the way he acted whenever she was around.” A second later his head jerked roughly to face her, his normally large round eyes were slits, “Are you angry about this?” His tone was vaguely accusatory, stressing the word ‘you.’ Completely taken aback, she was not quite sure how to respond. “Me? Of course not!” Placing a comforting hand on his broad back, she was amazed to find it hot to the touch. After a short pause she continued, smiling over at him, “I think it’s perfectly wonderful.” To Hermione, the air between them seemed to crackle sending the small hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She wasn’t sure how long they remained staring at each other, nor how her hand had made it’s way up to the nape of his neck but she was pleased at the turn of events. In what seemed to be a familiar gesture, she continued toying with the wisps of his hair within her reach. Much to her surprise, Ginny’s idea of kissing him was not far from her thoughts. “Did you notice the way he looked at her a few minutes ago? Like his morning just got better by seeing her?” he asked lightly. An amused snort came a moment later, “I wouldn’t mind if they dated but I’m not going to make it easy for them to start.” He grinned widely making her heart clench. “I find it very amusing to watch Harry struggle for excuses to be alone with her.” Swatting playfully at his arm in mild shock, she exclaimed with a smirk, “Ronald! How would you feel if he did that to you?!” Ears flaming red, he said bluntly, “He does do that to me. Let’s just call it a bit of payback. But if he ever finds out, I’m pleading ignorance.” Large hands flew into the air as if signifying his hands were indeed clean of any mischievous plots. “I have no doubts you will.” “He’s an honorable bloke and he’ll treat her right. Better Harry than Dean Thomas, huh?” Looking to her for confirmation, she nodded and he continued, “As long as he doesn’t snog her in front of the whole bloody school, I think I can keep my cool... Do you reckon Ginny fancies him?” Choosing her words carefully as not to betray to her promise to keep Ginny’s recent confession confidential, she sat silently for a few moments before responding. “Perhaps. She did break up with Dean, after all.” At this Ron stood from the sofa and like a metaphoric olive branch, offered his hand to help her to her feet. Hermione clasped her hand willingly in his and allowed him to lead her out of the common room. “Now that that’s settled, we can eat,” he cheerfully remarked, slinging a sturdy arm around her shoulders. “I’m pleased you’re okay with this, Ron. He needs this in his life-- needs her.” She stated sincerely. He pulled her closer, “What makes you happy, makes me happy.” “What about Harry?” She teasingly suggested. Ron turned his head and she found his grin was infectious. “That wanker can find his own happiness.” They laughed freely at Harry’s expense, soaking in the newfound closeness they shared. It was clear their friendship had shifted considerably from what it was before the months they spent apart, but given the strong arm currently resided along the tops of her shoulders holding her near as they walked along the stone corridor, she was ever-thankful that some changes were for the better. This was definitely one of those times. |
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