Title: Not Each Other's

Originarily, Pero No Entre Sí (in Spanish)

Author: Marian, both writer & translator.

Betaread by LovelyThumper (Thanks a lot!)

Summary: Ron is Harry's friend. Hermione is Harry's friend. They're good friends. Then... why can't Ron and Hermione be friends too, why does Ron shake every time that their eyes meet, why can't he say three words in a row without feeling a dullard?!

Censor: PG

Personal Homepage: Wouldn't eat candy from us: wouldnteat.candyfrom.us

E-mail:  moran_marianne@hotmail.com

Legal Disclaimer: They're not mine, nor do I claim them so. OCs are, and so is the plot. For more information, please visit my homepage.

Not each other's

1. "You wish"

The backpack hid, as usual, some more than ten voluminous textbooks. They were perfectly ordered, probably because of the practical reason were they not, they would not fit in there. It was a leather bag, of a soft brown, worn through the years, and it had been enchanted more than once so that no matter what it would resist any weight it carried. He had known it as long as he had known her, since the first day of school some five years ago and he had seen it almost daily; hung from her shoulder, on her chair, aside when they were in the common room. He had hardly ever seen it empty, aside from when she had taken all the books out during one of those anxiety attacks three months before exams, when she would see herself failing and demand them to make her study harder, all the while turning sheets furiously looking for a potion that she might doubt or a spell that she thought she couldn't master. Just thinking of her made him smile, but it also inferred a question, if the backpack was there where was she?

He hadn't been looking for her until he had spotted her rucksack. He was just going to go find a book at the library, though it had crossed his mind, with an itchy urge washing through his body, that she would not be too far away and they would most likely meet. Only after a few minutes in thought, and only thanks to noticing some third-years giving him funny glares, had he realised that, as always, his feelings had been written too precisely on his face. He was smiling like a fool, walking with wide, long steps towards where it was more probable to find her. He had to remind himself that he had to find a Transfiguration book, and that was the purpose of his visit to the library, and not seeing her, before being able to assume normality again and act all cool instead of follow his desires and frantically look for her. But now, she was not where he expected her to be and on the other hand, there was only her abandoned bag and an open book on the table. The thrill to see her had not lessened a bit, even though he had forced himself to pretend the contrary and, though he had been beside her just half an hour ago, not being able to be with her immediately upset him. With an annoyed gesture, he decided to keep on with his plans; Transfigurations, that was he was looking for!

She would be out there looking for some book, he would see her later. Besides, there was a chance that she was looking precisely for a book in the same section he was heading. In the end, she had to do her homework too, and, knowing her, she would surely want some material for consulting. Without him realising, a smile appeared on his lips again and he opened his eyes wide to look attentively around him, wiping the frown he was showing only seconds before out. He would look for the book in the Transfiguration section, then he would go back to the backpack and if he had not found her in that section too, she would have most likely, returned from wherever else she was by then!

He quickly went to search for the book, and, just as he had presumed, there she was. As soon as he saw her he felt his heart jump to his throat and noticed that that part of the library seemed to be particularly hot.

"Hermione," he greeted  her, with a thin voice.

The girl turned around to look at him and smiled a greeting. "Hello, Ron!" she said, while she turned back to keep digging  through the books that were on the shelf opposite her. "How are you?"

"Fine," he answered. "What are you looking for?"

For an answer, she handed him a small piece of parchment where she had written down the title and key of what she was searching, and he rapidly went to help her.

"And you?" she asked as they searched for her book, one beside the other. "For yesterday's written assignment?"

"Yes. Look," he called her, pointing at a tome that he brought forth from the shelf. "It's here. It's this one, isn't it?"

"Yes," she replied, taking it from his hands. "Thanks! Come, I've already got yours, I had planned to carry it to the common room for you in case you didn't have the time... Where's Harry?"

"Surprise training," he explained mechanically, too happy to hear that she had thought of him and had reserved his book. "Have you started the assignment yet?"

Hermione nodded as they walked towards the table.

"I've already done the first approach. It's not too difficult, and I found it very interesting..."

He smiled and sat down next to her at the table.

"I'm going to do mine now," he explained.

"Are you staying here?" she asked, indicating around them with a nod of her head.

"Am I... a bother?"

She shook her head and after a friendly smile handed him the book that she had reserved for him, while she focused on the one that she had taken for herself. He imitated her and soon he was diving into the essay ahead, his attention only interrupted by the furtive glances he would throw, every once in a while, at the girl sitting next to him, who was unaware of his attention at all.

They came out of the library more than an hour later to walk to the common room and put away their things. For some rare reason, they would rarely talk if Harry was not with them and in any case, if they talked Ron would always feel unsure and uncomfortable. Hermione seemed to have the little frequent ability to make him feel like a dullard just by looking in Ron's eyes and he had the impression that all he could say to her was slow and insignificant.

She was the best in their class, the most studious, the fastest; how could he compare? How could Ron expect to say something that was of significance?! That was why he would remain silent; thinking what to say, how to interest her, how to avoid derision. And he would never find anything, would never know how to start a conversation, he would always end up feeling frustrated and angry at himself for being such a disaster. Why was it never as easy with Hermione as it was with Harry?! Why he would tell Harry the biggest drolleries, like when they would invent together the homework for Divination, but feel petrified every time that he had to start a conversation with her around?!

Hermione was too critical. Ron had thought about it many times and that was the conclusion he had arrived to. Hermione was so wise and so responsible that, in comparison, he could only get her to think of him as a fool and condemn him for that. Not openly, of course, since she was never disagreeable to them, no matter how wrong they might be, but he was sure that inside she would think of him as ridiculous, and it would make her opinion about him worse. An opinion that, however, could not have been too high from the start. How could it be, after the disastrous year before, where they had spent weeks angry at each other and in which he had accused her for more things than he wanted to remember, especially about Krum? Besides, he was very impulsive and had said what he thought for years, straight from the heart, as impossible as it would be, while she would review everything until finding the perfect solution. How could she even appreciate someone as opposite to her? That is why he kept his silence, that is why he would never know how to start to talk to her. They were both Harry's friends, but not each other's and since he longed to be also hers, he did not want to lose the little estimation she could have of him. So, he would not be able to make it better as long as he acted as a scarecrow next to her? Truth, but a minor problem. At least, she would not hate him!

Too busy obsessing with his thoughts, they arrived at the common room before he realized where they were.

In the common room there was Harry, who greeted them with a bright smile, along with the twins and the girls in the team, and they quickly went to join them.

"Hello!" greeted their friend.

"Ron," echoed Fred and George.

"Hello!" answered the redhead. "How was practice?"

"Very well," explained the seeker. "We've been practicing difficult movements! You'll see. And you? What have you done?"

"We've been at the library," answered Hermione. "With the paper for Transformations..."

"Yes," cut Harry off. "Have you found the book?"

Ron nodded, showing it to him as confirmation.

"And I've already done quite a lot of it. We'll put it in common later, right?"

Harry nodded too, with a sorry face.

"I'm sorry about practice."

"Never mind," the redhead assured him. "How is it that it was a surprise?"

As an answer, Fred handed him a piece of parchment, with an exaggeratedly proud pose.

"McGonagall," explained George.

"Surprisingly, she gives us special permission to train whenever the pitch is not booked!," his twin-brother pointed out.

"And we had to take advantage of it," said Harry, levelly.

"Don't complain," one of the chasers Alicia, commented, intervening in the conversation, although the girls had stepped a bit apart when Ron and Hermione had arrived, to chat privately. "At least we don't wake up at five in the morning!"

All of them nodded gravely, remembering their old captain and his obsession for training at unrestrained hours. After a few moments silence, Hermione excused herself and went upstairs to put her backpack away and Ron sat down beside Harry, tired.

"How was it?" asked his friend.

He looked at him, surprised. The twins were watching him closely too, heedful for the answer.

"What?"

"The afternoon!" Fred complained, as if it was evident.

"At the library!" added George.

"Fine..." said Ron, still not understanding the sudden interest.

"Have you opened your mouth at all?" Fred inquired, with a mock of faked sadness.

"What do you mean?!"

"That you hardly speak, Ronniekin," George enlightened. "Boy, these days! You're going to bore her!!"

Ron stiffened for a second, but soon sat down again, trying to stay calm. Fred and George had been trying to set him off with his relationship with Hermione for quite a few days already and they would get him all riled, but he had to learn to take it easy, just as jokes, which was their intention and to not lose control.

"That I don't talk to you doesn't mean that I don't talk at all," he answered, conceitedly.

"It just means that I know better than to lose my time with you."

"Aye, Ronnie," sighed Fred, jumping over the sofa to sit next to him and pass an arm over his shoulders. "That's what we're complaining about! You don't know better. You talk to us all cool but not with the doll you have as your best friend..."

"Did not" he complained, a bit too loud but deliberately ignoring the fact that they'd called Hermione a 'doll', because he knew them too well and knew that they were doing so only to hassle him and get him to confess more than what they could tell. "We talk, it's only that..." he paused, looking for how to go on. It was only that what? Only that I don't know what to do to not look even more of a boor in her eyes? Only that my throat will bind as soon as I see her? Only that she only barely bears me already, and I don't want to make things worse?! "I don't know," he said, finally. "We do talk, but we're not chit-chatting all of the time. We spend our day together, it arrives a moment when you don't have any thing new to say...!"

Harry nodded, supporting him, though one single glance was enough to tell that he was doing only that, supporting him, but he did not really agree with him.

"Then, it's not because you're shy around her, is it?" George went on.

"Why should he?" Fred asked his brother, feigning surprise.

"Don't know," he replied with an innocent movement of his shoulders. "He might feel something about her..."

"You wish," chorused Fred and Ron, the first one visibly amused with having foreseen his brother's exact words, and the second one exalted at the possibility of anyone believing such an invention as George's.

"We're friends," he concluded. "Final!"

"We don't doubt it," agreed George. "We were just wondering if that is what you want."

Ron shot each of them an annoyed glance and then looked at his friend with knitted brows.

"Let's go, Harry." He stood and walked over to a closer free table. "Let's get with the work."

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