I watched him slumped in the chair I the Common Room. His shoulders were low, his head even lower. Gingery red hair was all messy around his face, sticking to it with sweat. He wasn't talking to anyone. He just ignored everyone and everything in the room. I later wondered why I was even looking at him. He never looked at me, never casted a glace around to me, to see how I was. He was oblivious to my crush, my love for him, in more than a brotherly way.
His eyes told a story. He was disappointed, I could just tell. Something had happened, something he wished hadn't. His essay lay on the floor, neglected, half-done and forgotten about. His thoughts were obviously more important. I still, to this day, don't know what made me go over there. Maybe if I hadn't my life would be different. Just maybe.
He looked up as I walked over to him. The fire was crackling at his feet, inches away from his essay. I met his eyes. They were filled with angst, disappointment, dread and something I couldn't recognise, I thought- wished really- that it was hope. His hair fell over his face, hiding most of his mixed emotions. It really needed cutting.
"Ron, are you ok?" Merlin, it seemed like a simple question, yet it set a fire of anger towards me.
"No, I'm not. Did he tell you to ask me that?" He snarled at me, hurt and anger filling his eyes, wiping out the other emotion straight from them. I bit back a bitter comment, knowing I would make him even angrier if I spoke it.
"No, no, he didn't. I came to ask if you were ok. I truly did!" My answer seems so pathetic, so weak, it really does. It didn't burn out the anger and fury inside him, it only made him worse. He ran from the Common Room. I didn't know what to do. I simply ran after him, hoping for the best.
I chased after him, through a maze of corridors and hallways. I bet the Founders had a great laugh planning the school. I bet they were thinking how amusing it would be for future generations to run through these corridors, late for classes and dates. I bet they were laughing n their graves at that moment.
I finally reached were he had run to: the Womping Willow. He was standing by the tree. I ran up to him, honestly not knowing what to stay. He looked at me, confusion in his eyes. His eyes were a misty, sky coloured blue. They were swimming with tears.
"Ron please just tells me what the matter is!" I pleaded with him.
"They all out shine me! I am never going to be good enough for them. You can hardly class me as a Weasley!" He exploded, making me feel guilty. It wasn't true. Ron was just as good, better even, than his brothers.
"You're your own person, Ron. It doesn't matter that you different, your parents still love you, "I told him softly.
"I can never be the best. No matter how hard I try, there's always someone better than me." He said, as if he hadn't heard me. He had started s rant. I knew from experience that when he starts ranting, he doesn't stop.
"Ron, Ron!" I screamed at him, trying to get his attention." You are you! You don't need to be as good as everyone else!" Why was he reducing me to tears? Why was I being so weak?
"Everyone treats me like I'm just the other Weasley, the one whose best friends with Harry Potter, the boy who lived!"
"Ron, without you, I, Harry, Ginny and countless others would be dead. You are the reason I'm here today. And Ginny. And Harry. Yes, you are his best friend, but without you, there wouldn't be a Harry Potter. You are just as important as him and your brothers. You may not be Quidditch Captain or Head Boy, but you have you own achievements to be proud of!" I yell at him, feeling like a hypocrite for complaining about him ranting.
His eyes had softened now. Misty blue eyes gazed at me, the 'other' emotion returning to his eyes.
"I was disappointed with myself," He started softly, his gaze not leaving me "I kept letting the goals in, telling myself I would catch the next one over and over again. Harry looked disappointed with me. So did the whole team. They out shone me this practise, just as they do every time. I didn't mean to get so angry with you earlier; it's just that I wanted to be alone." He finished, still looking at me. His gaze made me feel something I didn't recognise. Brain whirled trying to find the answer.
"Ron, its fine. It's my fault," I wasn't being myself. Why do teenage emotions have to be so complicated? I was awoken from my thoughts my thoughts by a soft material being pressed against my lips. Ron had kissed me! My mind was saying pull away but my heart was saying return the kiss. Why did I choose my heart? I returned the kiss gently, unknowingly almost. I hate my subconscious. One minute we were shouting, the next kissing. Why am I being so weak, giving in to him? I don't feel like Hermione Granger at all. I feel like a weak woman, who gives into every man she sees.
I broke of the kiss. He had just broken up with Lavender. He wasn't playing to his best in Quidditch. He needed time. I listed the Cons of the kiss. I had a crush on him and he kissed me. There was a War breaking out. We both might wake up dead tomorrow. I think I loved him. The pros that didn't really seem like pros. Sometimes, I wish I was dumb and I didn't overthink things.
I looked at him, his eyes overpowered by the other emotion. My brown eyes met his blue. I knew from that moment onwards that my thoughts were incorrect. It wasn't hope that filled his eyes. It was love. Unfortunately (and fortunately at the same time) it was for me.