A/N: Title says it all, doesn't it? This is a Ronologue, hehe, about Ron getting shot down by Hermione-Sort of inspired by my having to turn down a friend...I wish it had gone this easily...
Just friends.
Just friends.
Just friends.
Those, without a doubt, are the most damaging words in the English language.
Forget Avada Kedavar, forget Crucio, forget Impervio.
'Just friends' will kill a guy even faster.
Picture this, if you will: A beautiful early fall afternoon. Crisp. Clear. Leaves just starting to turn. Sunny, but with a slight breeze so it wasn't unbearably hot.
Unfortunately, an unbearably hot girl is lying next to you, reciting Rune translations.
You're the average awkward teenage boy. Slight acne problem. You turn red and giggle at the mere mention of the words, 'Chicken breast'. Too tall for your skin. Voice that...well, lets not go there.
You turn to her, after nearly half an hour of working up your nerve, and finally managed to squeak out, "Er, Hermione?"
"Yeah?" Said girl barely looks up. She's now drawing a diagram of the planets in the dirt.
"I, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade. With me. This weekend."
This amazingly bright, well-educated, unbearably hot girl totally misses the point.
"Of course Ron," (And your hopes flare, despite her distracted tone and lack of eye contact.) "Who else would I go with? Now that Harry can finally go with us 'legally'" She tosses you a stern look, probably remembering a certain hump-backed witch. "It's been much more fun."
"Ah." You cough slightly, and she looks at you odd. "I-I was, I mean, I was thinking, maybe just you and me could, could go."
Now she's turning pink, which is nice, since you've been beet red for the past twenty minutes. She stares at the ground before answering, which is never good.
"Ron, I-I'm flattered, but...but I just don't think of you like that."
Strike one.
"You're more like a brother to me."
Strike two.
"I think we should be just friends."
Strike three, I'm out.
"Oh. Okay. I'm just going to go...see Harry then. About Hogsmeade. We're all still going? Right friend?"
And you jump up and stumble back towards the castle, where you find a deserted hall and weep for your stupid, embarrassing words and you berate yourself constantly, and you cry, just a tiny bit.
It doesn't make you feel any better that a certain blonde brat overheard the whole thing, and torments you about it all through Potions the next day.
And for the rest of the week.
And whenever he feels particularly nasty.
Just friends.
Just friends.
Just friends.
And you wish you'd kept your fat, stupid, friendly mouth shut.