AN: This idea was given to me by my best friend Jackie, and I got kinda carried away with it. Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of that.
Ron didn't know why his palms were sweating, but it seemed that he was wiping his hands on his robes so often that there should have been a visible stain. It was stupid, really. It's not like he had chosen to come here. It was just that he couldn't take another moment of sitting in the Common Room and watching everyone hang on Harry's every word. Honestly, you'd think he'd actually done something important, the amount of attention he was getting. Pathetic.
Ron hesitated before the door to the library – sure, he didn't want to be in the Common Room, but certainly there was a better alternative than this? He could go take a nap, or go down to Hagrid's…but in his mind he saw Hermione hiding her crushing disappointment behind those determined eyes, and he knew that he should do this for her, just this once. Maybe, once she accepted that no one else was coming, she would do his Potions essay in return. That seemed like a fair trade off.
He didn't know why she was so keen on this elf business; they had seen loads of terrible things, but this was the one that seemed to have stayed with her. Not mountain trolls, not Dementors, not the bloody spiders in the bloody forest, but house elves. It didn't seem to matter to her that no one else gave a damn about them – once you got her started on Spew, there was no stopping her. Ron suppressed a smile and, pausing to once again wipe his hands on his robes, pushed open the door to the library.
He only had to walk through a few of the corridors of bookshelves before he found her, sitting at the table, with a stack of papers in front her and the Spew collecting tin next to it. Her eyes were closed, her jaw was set, and Ron felt bad for her; surely she had realized that no one was coming. He saw in his mind's eye the smile that would form on her face when she saw that he had come through for her – that might be worth all the lecturing he would have to endure – but that image disintegrated and he stopped short when he turned the corner and saw someone else had come after all.
Neville Longbottom sat in one of the chairs across from Hermione, looking as uncomfortable as Ron suddenly felt. Neville? He might be a bit of a pushover, but surely he could have come up with an excuse for staying away. Slowly, Ron moved towards them and pulled out a chair at the table. Neville looked up and his expression brightened considerably, but Hermione hardly seemed to notice him at all, barely raising an eyebrow.
"So glad you could make it, Ron," she said, sounding like it didn't matter to her in the least. Ron scowled, and turned his attention from Hermione to Neville.
"What are you doing here, then? She bully you into coming too?"
"No, actually I'm really i-interested in, you know, house elves…and all that," Neville said, fear creeping into his smile. Ron's scowl deepened. There was no doubt in his mind that something besides a sudden love for house elves had made Neville come here.
"Did you Imperius him, then?" he said, turning back to Hermione. She opened her mouth to retort, but before she could get the words out, Neville had started speaking again.
"No really! This mistreatment of our fellow magical creatures has gone on for too long and needs to be stopped!" Ron looked at him incredulously. Hermione beamed.
"Exactly Neville! It's so wonderful to know that someone listens to me!"
"I listen -" Ron began, but Hermione kept going over him.
"Now, I guess you two are the only ones who can make it today, so we should get started. Ron, since you're secretary, I'll need you to start taking notes." Hermione handed him a piece of parchment upon which she had already written:
Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare Meeting, 15 November 1994
Hermione Granger
Neville Longbottom
Irritated, Ron added his name to the list of attendants with a violent flourish, blotting the page up quite awfully. Luckily, Hermione was now absorbed in her notes and didn't notice.
"So, you both know why we're here - "
"To put an end to the gross mistreatment of our fellow magical creatures!" Neville piped up. Hermione smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Right. Well, I think that the first step, besides recruiting more members, of course, is to educate the general public. Most of them have no idea that they are participants in a system which exploits the hardworking nature of elves, and I'm sure that once the people have been properly informed, they will immediately want to take part in our movement." In the corner of his eye Ron saw Neville nodding vigorously.
Ron tried to pay attention, but once Hermione started about ideas for catchy leaflet slogans, he gave up. What bothered him was that Neville was so engaged in the conversation, suggesting at least a dozen ideas, with such gripping titles as House Elves, House Elves at Hogwarts, Hogwarts' House Elves, and, last but not least, The Diary of a House Elf. ("We go interview an elf and ask them about what they do every day, and they tell us and we write it down!" Hermione wasn't too impressed.)
For what seemed like hours, Neville and Hermione went back and forth, with Ron occasionally paying attention long enough to scribble down a few words. He kept expecting Hermione to yell at him, but she was so focused on Neville to notice his inattention. Instead of being grateful, this made Ron even more annoyed.
Finally, Hermione paused long enough to look down at her watch, and, looking remarkably like a balloon being deflated, said, "Oh, well, that's been an hour then. I guess we'll have to decide on a slogan next week. Didn't you say Professor Moody wanted to meet you for tea in his office after this?"
"What? Oh yeah! I nearly forgot about that, thanks Hermione!" Neville stood and swung his bag over his shoulder.
"Alright then Neville, thanks for all your ideas, I'll be sure to, uh, think about them a lot!" Hermione said.
"No problem!" Neville smiled and began to walk away, but then turned back. Ron thought he suddenly looked a bit nervous, and furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Hermione, actually, I wanted to, uh…" Neville stammered, looking from the floor to the ceiling and back again.
"Hmm?" Hermione said, absorbed in her notes again.
"Well, you know, there's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, and…and…"
Ron stared, eyes wide open in shock. What was going on?
"Sorry Neville, what about Hogsmeade?" Hermione said, looking up.
Neville turned a terrible shade of pink and looked desperately around the room, eyes finally landing on Ron. Neville looked scared and confused, and Ron realized too late that he was scowling. Again.
The instant Neville's eyes met Ron's, he turned on his heels and bolted from the library, shouting a disjointed "Nevermind-see-you-later!" over his shoulder. Ron tried to erase his scowl, but it seemed frozen in place.
Hermione shook her head. "What was that about?"
"I think…" Ron began, wondering if it was safe to voice this thought aloud. "I think he was trying to ask you to go to Hogsmeade with him. Y'know, as a date." He held his breath.
Now it was Hermione who looked confused, as well as a bit taken aback. "Do you really think so?" She laughed, and Ron felt his own features finally soften. "I doubt it," she added.
"I dunno, it seemed pretty obvious to me," Ron said, immediately wishing that he hadn't.
Hermione smiled slightly and shook her head. "No, thank you Ron, but I really don't think so."
Ron gave her a questioning look, wanting her to say more but not wanting to draw any more attention to Neville's feeble advances. Hermione pursed her lips and sighed. "Besides, it doesn't matter anyway. I don't think I'd like to go with him much."
"Why not?" Ron blurted out before he could stop himself. He felt something uncomfortable in his stomach.
She laughed uncertainly. "Oh, I just…" She shrugged. "There's someone else I'd rather go with, is all." She looked down at her notes again.
The feeling Ron's stomach intensified, and he felt like he was going to be sick. Harry. Of course. Why didn't I see it before? Well, they can get together then, smartest girl in the school and the bloody school champion, and I'll be lucky if I ever see either of them again. Not that he really wanted to see Harry ever again, he reminded himself quickly. Harry was a prat. And he had stupid hair.
Ron would have sat there fuming all day, but Hermione, never looking up from her notes, asked him how his potions essay was going.
"Bloody terrible, now that you mention it. Fancy helping me out, since I just wasted my time coming to this?"
Hermione looked up and saw the sour expression on Ron's face, and laughed. That made Ron scowl even more, but he had to admit that hearing her laugh made him feel better. Hermione reached down into her bag and produced several books and a few pieces of parchment, which she passed across the table.
"I thought you might say something like that, so as a thank you I got together some of the books you'll need, and wrote you an outline."
Ron's eyes widened in surprise, but then he remembered that he was in a bad mood and forced himself to scowl again. He took the books without comment, and hauled out the pathetic beginnings of his essay. For a few moments, they worked in silence, but Ron couldn't concentrate.
"Did you do the same for Harry then?" he said, unsure if he wanted to know, and even more unsure why he was asking.
Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Why won't you make up with him? He really misses you, you know."
Ron huffed. "Does he now? Well, that's too bad, because I don't miss him. I've got all I want right here," he said, gesturing to the pile of books around him.
"This whole fight is stupid."
Ron didn't answer, staring very hard at an ink stain on his parchment.
"But to the answer the question, no, I haven't helped Harry with his essay. In fact, I haven't properly talked to him in a few days. In case you don't remember, I've spent the last few days helping you with all your homework, and that's left me very little time for much else."
Ron couldn't think of answer for that, and after a few moments he saw Hermione look back down at her work, giving up. Ron wasn't sure what she expected him to say. Sure, she had spent a lot of time helping him recently, but lately she had seemed more distant and distracted. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him that she resented him for keeping her from Harry.
But if that was true, why had she just gone to all this effort for him and his bloody potions essay?
Ron blinked rapidly, drawing himself out of his thoughts. He had to deal with this essay, which he had put off for far too long. Sighing, he took the first book off the stack and found that Hermione had already marked the necessary pages. That just made him feel worse, and he didn't know why.
They sat for about a quarter hour, but Ron didn't make much progress. He kept getting distracted by Hermione's movements as she reached for a new book or shuffled her parchment. Trying not to draw attention to himself, he observed the way she held the book – sometimes she let them lie flat on the table, sometimes she pulled them into her lap, looking more comfortable on the stiff wooden chair than Ron thought would be humanly possible. What suddenly fascinated him the most was the way she held the books, with such a delicate reverence. If it was possible to turn pages respectfully, she was doing it. Had her hands always been that tiny?
Ron was jerked out of his thoughts by a flash of green in the corner of his eye, and he looked up to see that their table was surrounded by Pansy Parkinson and her group of Slytherin girls. Hermione hadn't looked up, but Ron could see her shoulders tense.
"Granger, if I didn't know any better, I might say you're doing all your homework for fun!" she sneered. "And by the looks of it, you enjoy doing Weasley's too. Is that the only way you can get him to talk to you? I don't see why he would otherwise." They all laughed. Ron felt all the heat in his body rush to his face. He looked at Hermione, but aside from the look of intense concentration on her face, and the fact that her eyes weren't moving anymore, she hadn't given any indication that she heard Pansy's remarks.
"Did you hear me, Granger? Or are you deaf as well as ugly?"
Ron stood up, his fists clenched. "Why don't you sod off?" he snarled. The girls all cackled, but began to leave. Pansy lingered, looking at Ron with an interested expression for a moment before saying, "I can see why you might like having this one around, Granger, but this is all you'll ever be to him. I don't expect that will ever change." Then she turned on her heels and left.
"What did that mean?" Ron asked, dumbfounded.
"Oh, who knows," Hermione said, but Ron couldn't help but feel that she was avoiding his gaze. Ron wouldn't let the subject drop.
"Are you really going to let her keep saying these things to you?"
"It doesn't matter."
"It does matter!"
"No, Ron, really. Nothing is ever going to make her stop thinking that way about me. It's just…she thinks she's better than me because I'm different."
"Well, yeah, you are different!"
Hermione looked up at him, and Ron was surprised to see that her eyes were shining with tears. He didn't know what to do.
"I mean, you're a million times smarter than she is," he said, going for the obvious.
"Yes, and she resents that! So she thinks that all I'm good for is reading books and answering questions and…and writing essays." She looked down at her book.
Ron stared at her, but she didn't look back up.
And suddenly, Ron knew why House Elves meant so much to her. For Hermione, learning was as easy as breathing, and she had never failed to answer a question correctly or finish an essay on time; and here he was, time and time again, getting her to do as much of his work as he could. And she never complained. Ron didn't need anyone to remind him that he would have failed every exam in their first year if it weren't for Hermione, and all he did was groan and make fun of her and try to get her to do even more for him. It never occurred to him that maybe, even though she was always willing to help him, that didn't necessarily mean she always wanted to, or enjoyed it. Maybe she felt a sense of obligation, not just to her friends, but to everyone – that she could help, so she should. And even though she never got so much as a thank you, she would keep helping them.
He knew Hermione would be way too proud to admit it, but maybe that's what this whole thing was about, at least in part. She wanted recognition, and Ron's stomach dropped a few a feet when he realized that the person from whom she deserved it most was him.
Bloody hell.
"Hermione," he said, the words coming out much softer than he meant. "Hermione, you know that…you know that we…you helping us, it's more than…Hermione…"
She looked up at him, her tears somewhat subsided, and a look on her face that might be described as bemusement.
"Yes Ronald?" she asked coyly.
Ron took a deep breath, and then – "YOU KNOW THAT WE REALLY APPRECIATE YOU HELPING US WITH OUR WORK BUT THAT'S NOT THE REASON WE'RE FRIENDS WITH YOU."
She smiled that soft smile, and Ron felt his stomach clench again. He looked down at the books in front of him, which looked remarkably less intimidating than before.
"I know, Ron," she said softly. He snuck a glance up at her and saw that she was buried in her book again, but he could have sworn he saw the hint of redness in her cheeks.
The feeling in his stomach moved up and settled somewhere in his chest, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It made him feel a bit warm, and he felt himself smile a little. He pulled his essay towards him and began to work with renewed determination, grateful once again for all of Hermione's help.
Maybe coming to the bloody spew meeting hadn't been a waste of time after all.
AN: If you have any ideas for HP oneshots, especially Romione oneshots that you don't feel like writing yourself, let me know! I love writing oneshots like this, but I can never come up with ideas myself :P