Author: Sapphire Dragons

Warings: AU, slightly weird

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: Ron finds himself being evaluated in the most unlikely of situations.

Feedback: Yes please!!

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Somehow, Ron Weasley found himself onstage.

"..And what we have here, ladies and gents, is a perfect example of the species Igomoticus Praticus, otherwise known as the typical male teenager."

The woman walked around Ron, surveying him carefully. She made a point about stepping over his rather large feet.

"Ah yes. See the hunched shoulders, the slouched back, the crossed arms? All signs of a teenage male who has been rejected one too many times."

She unfolded his arms, and forced him to stand up straight.

"Now, the gangly features (ie the long arms and legs) along with the unnaturally long fingers indicate one that has grown much in a short amount of time. However, the slight muscle around the arms and chest indicates much roughhousing. Perhaps at home?"

Ron's ears started going red at all the attention, followed shortly by his face and neck.

"And yes, the inclination to blush fiercly at the slightest provocation indicates a shy personality. Unfortunatly, this also says that often the male does not think before he speaks. What's your name, Dearie?"

Ron swallowed a rather large lump in his throat.

"R-Ronald Weasley. But call me Ron."

The woman 'tsk-ed' softly.

"He stutters, common when faced with a question. But yet he is quick to enforce his point, despite the circumstances."

She walked in front of him, staring him in the eyes.

"Tell me. How far would you go for your closest friends?"

There was no hesitation from Ron at that question.

"I'd die for them."

"So quick to answer! Obviously very brave, no doubt about that. But bravery isn't always the best thing there is. No, you need wits, intelligence."

Ron was looking distinctly uncomfortable. Of course, the woman did not miss this.

"Oh yes. See the narrowed eyes, alight with fire? He's stubborn, this one, and sometimes quite thickheaded. Notices the tiniest things, oblivious to the most obvious."

Ron was getting fed up. He shot out a quick question.

"What's your name?"

The woman chuckled.

"Fiesty, and too curious for his own good. Whatever happened to respecting your elders?"

"You still haven't answered my question."

"So it seems. Evasion tactics don't work well. My name is Nymphadora Tonks."

Ron folded his arms over his chest and huffed.

"Odd mood swings. Maybe he's not the perfect teenage male specimen, but he comes pretty damn close!"

Ron made a noncomittal noise in the back of his throat.

"Very well, Dearie. I see you've had enough. You may leave."

Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling and considered jumping for joy. He chose a more manly approach, and jumped off the platform.

As he was weaving his way through the crowd, he heard a voice call out to him.

"By the way, your arse goes well with your hair!!"

Blushing scarlet, he ducked into the nearest restroom to gather his thoughts.

A smug voice spoke by his ear.

"So... the perfect teenage male specimen, huh?"

Turning sharply, a mass of bushy brown hair invaded his vision.

Ron fainted.

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A/N: Sooo... Love it? Hate it? Making a noncomittal noise in the back of your throat? Well, let me know!!