Swimming Lessons
Summary: Ron is finally better than Hermione at something: swimming.
Rated K+
Hermione/Ron
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER! The lovely Ms. Rowling does. And I do not make any profit off of these stories.
Swimming Lessons
"Hermione, you've been acting strange all day." Ron remarked at dinner in the Great Hall.
"I'm….I'm fine, just worried about Harry and that egg." She fidgeted with the hem of her book bag.
Ron piled food on his plate and turned towards her. "He'll be fine; he told me he's been working on opening it."
Hermione's voice rose slightly as she spoke quickly. "Oh, well then, nothing to worry about then, I suppose."
Ron opened his mouth and started to speak, but Hermione leapt up from the table. "I need to go to the library for a… book I left there this afternoon."
After she left, Ron shook his head at his plate and repeated what he had heard Fred and George say often; "Women."
"What was that?" Ron jumped at Harry's voice. Harry slid next to him and grabbed a plate.
"Hermione's been acting odd lately, don't you think?"
Harry furrowed his brows for a moment, contemplating. "I dunno, I haven't noticed."
"She told me she was worrying about you and the egg."
"I told you, I've been working on it. Listen, Cedric Dig-"
Ron interrupted him with a sudden thought. "I don't think it has anything to do with the egg at all."
Harry looked mildly irritated. "Well, why did you ask me then?"
Ron didn't seem to hear him, he was lost in thought. "I reckon I'll go see what's bothering her." Stuffing his mouth with one last bite, Ron jumped from the table and walked out of the Great hall.
Harry stared down at his plate and sighed.
Ron wasn't surprised to find Hermione sitting at one of the tables in the library, piles of books opened in front of her. She had a large book positioned in her lap, leaning the spine against the table top.
As he sat down across from her, she instantly slammed the book shut and turned it over in her lap. Ron rarely had any interest in what Hermione was reading, but her reaction made him ask.
"What book are you reading?"
"Nothing." She said too quickly. She suddenly found something behind Ron very interesting.
He prodded her. "Hermione?"
"What, Ronald?" She snapped, angry for no reason.
"I…I was-" His voiced faltered. "I was going to ask you what was wrong."
Slowly, she dragged her eyes back to meet his, and bit her lip. Ron could tell she was nervous; she only bit her lip when she was nervous. And her fingers, her long, narrow fingers were drumming like mad on the desk.
Acting on impulse, Ron reached across the table and lightly placed his freckled hand over her pale fingers, stopping her relentless tapping. They both glanced down at their hands and then up at each other.
"Um. Sorry." Ron said, removed his hand.
Hermione's eyes skirted around the library, making sure no one was near. Then, she carefully lifted up the spine of her book, allowing Ron to read the title.
Ron twisted her head sideways for a few moments, trying to read the spine, before he realized the title was right on the front cover.
"Swimming for the Swim-less." He read loudly. Hermione slammed the book down on the table, and hissed.
"Shush, Ronald, someone will hear you!"
Ron looked at her like she was crazy. "Hermione, why the bleeding-" The look in her eyes stopped his swear from leaving his lips. Ron retracted. "I mean, why in the name of Merlin are you reading a book about swimming, 'Mione?"
She bit her lip again. "Isn't it obvious? I don't know how to swim." She stared down at her lap.
Ron was momentarily speechless, before a sudden urge to laugh came over him. He started laughing then, quietly at first, until he couldn't control it and then he was roaring, rolling back and forth in his chair and clutching his sides.
Madame Pince scuttled over and shooed the two of them out of the library with a jabbing finger.
Out in the corridor, Hermione glowered at Ron until his laughter subsided. He straightened his back and looked at her, and raised his arm to cough into his elbow, as if the whole thing had been a coughing fit.
"Ronald Weasley, it's not funny! And I can't believe-" (she stomped her foot) you got us KICKED out of the library!" She crossed her arms sullenly and looked daggers at him.
Ron absentmindedly itched his scalp. "I'm sorry. But…it's just….I wasn't expecting that to be what you were worrying about. Swimming? How can you NOT know how to swim?"
"In case you haven't noticed, Ronald," Hermione said acidly, "We live in central Britain*. There aren't exactly great bodies of water around."
Ron looked utterly perplexed. He said, with a hint of sarcasm creeping into his tone, "You have heard of lakes and pools, right?"
"Yes." She responded stiffly, arms crossed tight and clutching her swimming book to her chest. Her face was flushed with heat, and Ron's mind was spinning, thinking about what to do.
There was a beat of silence not filled with Ron's laughter or Hermione's rage, and neither of them knew what to say. The corridor was deserted, and the two stood still on the stone floor, Ron's hands jammed into his robe pockets, and Hermione still clutching her book.
As usual, Ron's mind was drawing a blank as to what to say in order to possibly comfort her, and so he restored to tactlessly questioning her motives. "Well, why are you so keen on learning how to swim all of the sudden? What, is you-know-who planning an underwater attack?"
Hermione exhaled heavily. "No, but, well, Vicktor mentioned to me that the next task had to do with swimming. And it would involve me-"
Ron's voice lost its calmness. "Did he now? Is Vicky sharing special secrets with you now?"
"Oh just stop-"
"You know what, why don't you just ask him for private swimming lessons. I'd bet you'd love that." There was no mistaking the malice in his voice.
Hermione blushed. "Well, actually, he offered to, and we were, erm, are.… but you see, he's not the best teacher, he can't really explain it to me, he just…sort of grabs me and tries to show me-"
Ron was attempting to stay calm. "Oh he just grabs you, huh? Sounds lovely, I bet you're learning loads." Sarcasm dripping from his voice, he turned around, and begun to storm angrily away, feeling incredibly stupid, like a jealous child.
Hermione grabbed his wrist. She looked hurt, but it's covered by a mask of anger. "No, Ron, actually I was going to ask you if you mind teaching me. But clearly you're too much of a-"
"Wouldn't that make jealous Vicky upset?" He spat, lingering on the word "Vicky".
"Why would that make him upset, it's not like you're being creepy and touching me under the water-"
"OH SO THAT'S WHAT HE DOES- FONDLES YOU UNDER THE WATER? THAT'S BLEEDING BRILLIANT!"
A cluster of first years walked past them, and Ron heard a boy explain to the group what fondling was.
Hermione, hearing their giggles, flushed a brilliant red. "No, that's not what I meant, Ron, I just meant that I feel like Vicktor and I don't exactly accomplish a lot. I'm not learning how to- you know."
He felt like taking the phrase "Vicktor and I" and shredding it into millions of little pieces and shoving it up Vicktor's-
"—and I just really need your help, Ron, I don't know why you have to make this so difficult." He blinks out of his fantasy and is surprised to discover that Hermione's eyes are welling with tears. What is it with girls? One minute they're raging, and the next sobbing.
"…emotional range of a teaspoon." He said quietly, smiling.
She sniffles, wiping her face with her sleeve. "What?"
"That's what you said to me the other night, that I have the emotional range of a teaspoon. And you're right, but only because girls have the emotional range of a cauldron."
"That doesn't even make sense, Ron." but she laughed softly.
He remembered the reason they were standing there. It took a bit of courage and humbling himself, but finally he said; "Fine, Hermione."
Hermione raised her eyebrows so that they disappeared under her bushy hair.
"I'll teach you how to swim."
(A/N: Excuse my geography skills, I highly doubt "central Britain" exists. I suppose I could look it up, but, ah well. It fits the story and sounds like something Hermione would say.)