A/n: Some sentences are taken from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Credits for the same go to JK Rowling.
This is a ficlet which came randomly to me and is going to be a part of my #RandomRomioneRamblings . You can find the same on my Tumblr blog (Azaleablueme).
Also, this story is unbeta-ed. Sincere apologies in advance for errors and/or typos.
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"Harry's snogged Cho Chang!" shouted Ginny, who sounded close to tears now. "And Hermione snogged Viktor Krum, it's only you who acts like it's something disgusting, Ron, and that's because you've got about as much experience as a twelve-year-old!"
And with that, she stormed away. Harry quickly let go of Ron; the look on his face was murderous. They both stood there, breathing heavily, until , Rich's cat, appeared around the corner, which broke the tension.
-HBP Chapter 14: Felix Felicis
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This was not fair, not bloody fair at all! He...! She...! How dare he…! That ruddy pumpkinhead Krum…!
Ron wished he had another one of those miniature figurines of the bloke to tear apart- limb by limb, inch by inch. How dare... how dare he…
"Oy, out of the way!" he barked at a small girl, not pausing or apologizing as she dropped something. Hermione would be furious with him. Hermione... Oh for fuck sake…
His head was throbbing so hard it was a miracle he was not on fire already. He could picture her clearly- in that same floaty, periwinkle blue dress she wore to the Yule Ball, and Krum in his lavish dress robes entwined around each other... He came to an abrupt halt as if all the air from his lungs had been knocked out.
"D'you think Hermione did snog Krum?" he asked, catching Harry off-guard, fervently hoping for his mate to deny.
"What?" Harry said confusedly. "Oh… er…"
Ron realised two things at that moment. First, his best mate was a rubbish liar - he could see the truth written all over his face. And second, Hermione had… while he had been dumb enough to wait... Managing to hold on to a billion dark feelings, he turned towards the Fat Lady who was watching them curiously.
"Dilligrout," he spat darkly to the portrait, and they climbed through the hole into the common room.
Neither of them mentioned Ginny or Hermione again; indeed, they barely spoke to each other that evening and got into bed in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Ron was glad about it; he wasn't the least bit interested in conversations. He had ensured to specifically avoid Hermione, skipping dinner and escaping into the dorm as soon as he saw her bushy head materialise out of the portrait hole.
Despite all his attempts at keeping her away, no sooner he lay on his four-poster bed and shut his eyes that her face appeared behind them. Unfortunately, that wasn't a new occurrence. For months, perhaps almost a year now, her presence was constant in his dreams. On some nights, her dream version would beam and run into his arms as his bumbling, fumbling dream-self professed his feelings to her. On others, she would call him an idiot who was a disgrace to friendship, and a peabrain who had got it all wrong. And on yet other nights, he would bravely fight a band of death eaters to reach her. And sometimes, he would find her alone in the hidden passages or behind tapestries and locked doors…
He opened his eyes to look at the deep-red canopy overhead, feeling so many things simultaneously that he could no longer distinguish one from the rest. The emotional range of a teaspoon, she said? Right… must've been a giant's spoon.
She had indeed found someone behind a tapestry- but it wasn't him. It was a world-famous, rich and successful Quidditch player, and once again, just like that, fate had handed him the shortest stick. He was out of the race before it had even begun. Someone who had dated and snogged Victor Krum would never settle for the mediocre, penniless Ron, would they? A tiny and foolishly hopeful part of him reminded him that fame and money didn't matter to Hermione. But she had snogged Krum, after all, didn't she? Despite telling them for days how stupid he was, she had kissed him after just a few hours of dancing and drinks. The worst part was, she was perfectly in her right to do so. Ron had been a jerk, hadn't he? He should have asked her first…
But Krum? He was a fucking, internationally famous star! He could've had anyone he wanted. Why did he have to choose her? Not that she wasn't worth it, she was worth the very best… He let out a loud snort. Bloody hell… Yeah, she was worth the best after all...
Indignation morphed into remorse and guilt. Hermione should have told him at least. He deserved that much, didn't he? Ginny knew and so did Harry. Why did she leave him out? And just like that, he was furious with her again. She could have at least told him- or did she think he wasn't mature enough to know? She had confided in Ginny! She was younger and not even her best friend and … she had purposely left him out.
He turned to face the wall, the bed creaking under him, feeling worse than he had ever before. He exhaled quietly; clearly, a broken heart hurt more than broken limbs or barmy brains tentacles.
How could she do this to him?
Perhaps he had misjudged and saw what he wanted to, he reckoned morosely. Deep down he always knew he wasn't worth her. But he deserved to know, as a friend if nothing more, didn't he? He pulled over the covers absentmindedly and threw them away almost instantly. Bloody hell, nothing was comfortable anymore. As exhaustion and pain lulled him to a fitful sleep he reckoned he'd gladly trade the precious little he had, perhaps even his broom just to rewind the day, to get his hopes back, to get his dreams back...
a/n: You all know how much I'll appreciate your review, don't you?
