Hey! First Ron/Hermione fic! :D Hope it's not crap :D Enjoy it! Oh, and HERMIONE IS A BIT BONKERS IN THIS! I love bonkers Hermione - she's awesome! :D Enjoy, and please remember to review! :D
Hermione hated how she had to do all the work. Really, really hated it. Why couldn't she fall in love with a guy who actually had a brain hidden in that big head somewhere? It was infuriating.
It was the middle of the summer term; our lovely Gryffindor prefect was currently situated in the cosy common room – and that's where this amusing little story starts.
This particular room, at this particular time, was also the temporary home to a certain couple (if you could really call them that) – known affectionately as Won-Won and Lav-Lav.
Yeauch.
Oh, but Hermione wasn't going to give up that easy. Ooh-ho no! If Ron really thought that Lavender was in any way better than Hermione, well then, he had better be prepared for a serious arse-kicking – 'cause she most certainly was going to KICK. SOME. ARSE.
Her first instrument with which to wreak terror upon one Ronald Weasley… was a poem.
Can you see now? Can you see just how much she loved this boy? Hermione was writing poems for him! She HATED those disgustingly trashy, smushy pieces of doggy poop that people wrote to each other on special occasions! They were a complete waste of parchment!
Sighing and fighting the urge not to rip her parchment into itty-bitty pieces of inky hell, Hermione quickly quilled out the last line with a flourish. "Finally," she muttered to her herself, rubbing her forehead and in the process covering her face with splodges of ink.
The sudden, soft voice in her ear made up jump about a foot in the air, her heart beating double time. "Hey 'Mione, what you doing?"
Don't look into his eyes. Don't look into his eyes. Don't look into his eyes. He's like a blue-eyed basilisk! It'll KILLLL YOU!
Hermione leaned forward slightly to cover parchment bearing her words of love and adoration. "Ahem… nothing…"
"'Mioneeeeeee," Ron whined, batting his ginger eyelashes at his best friend. "Tell me!"
"No!"
"Pretty pleaseee!"
Hermione looked up into his eyes, feeling as though someone had forcefully grabbed her neck and pushed it upwards – stupid body, why the hell couldn't it listen to her brain for once?
Now you've done it you idiot girl! You've looked into his eyes! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE.
"Fine," the bushy haired girl huffed, "I've written a… poem…"
Ron looked nonplussed. "… Please don't tell me this is your new campaign for Spew?"
"It's S.P.E.W, Ronald!" Hermione flared up immediately, remembering once again why someone else – anyone else – would have been so much better for her. The boy was utterly and completely maddening. "And no, actually, it isn't! Now do you wanna listen to it or not?"
Why did you ask him if he wanted to listen to it? You should have said 'yes' and he would have run away from your Spew rubbish straight away! Bleaugh! And they call you the Brightest Witch of Your Age! Bullshit.
"Fine, fine…" the redhead replied, sighing in resignation before plopping himself heavily on the chair next to her.
Please, Ron, please, do curb your enthusiasm.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to read in a shaky, slightly high-pitched voice – well, come on, she was reading a poem full of words of love and adoration to the person she loved and adored. You seriously can't blame her. And if you do, you're heartless.
"He eats so much food,
It puts me in a right foul mood,
He has no tact at all,
Yet I can't help but fall,
He's a master at chess,
But not at much else,
I think I've been shot by Cupid,
And all I can say is: I'm with stupid."
Ron burst into peals of laughter once Hermione had finished, falling out of his chair and rolling around on the floor hysterically. "Hermione, that's brilliant!"
"Thanks!" The goofy, idiot smile on her face was not because her beloved at just complemented her. Nope, not at all. A large bubble of happiness seemed to swell in her chest and she determinedly quashed her urge to jump up and down in excitement.
Maybe he'll finally dump Lavender! Maybe he'll ask me out! Maybe he'll –
"Hehe, who's it for by the way?"
The bubble burst.
Or maybe he'll completely ruin your day as he usually does because of his BLOODY lack of BRAIN CELLS!
Ron continued, unaware of the scream of frustration building up in Hermione's throat, "And just how good is he at Chess? I bet I could beat that bugger…"
"AAAAARGH!"
Ron was stunned into silence, watching wide eyed as Hermione whipped out her wand, chest heaving as she thought of the most painful hex she knew. The fact that the wand was pointing at him seemed to finally kick in, and Ron leapt up and sprinted from the common room, yelling about mad prefects and their bloody poems.
Hermione gave chase, an evil smile curling her lips that even Voldemort would be afraid of.
Everyone else in the common didn't even blink an eye as the Fat Lady clicked shut over the portrait hole – after all, a terrified Ron running away screaming from an angry Hermione wasn't exactly anything new.
Hope you enjoyed!
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:)