Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will. ::Sighs::
Authors notes: This is my first story, k? Be nice. Flames will be used to bake comfort cookies. R&R for more later!!
Reactions of Ron
Despite what most people seemed to think of him, Ron Weasly was not completely oblivious. Whilst not the worlds most perceptive person, he could see things that were sitting right under his nose.
The fact that somewhere over the last five years Hermione had evolved from a bossy bookworm into a beautiful, mature, witty, gifted young witch, for example.
He was also not oblivious to his own, more-than-friendly-feelings for her. Or to the fact that she had more-than-friendly feelings for someone else.
Why Harry, though? What had he got that Ron didn't?
At first Ron thought that he was jumping to conclusions, that the heartache and pain that hid behind those expressive cinnamon eyes every time Cho and Harry kissed was just a figment of his overactive, jealous imagination.
He knew that it wasn't, though.
How Harry could have Hermione's heart and yet choose Cho Chang instead was a mystery to him. Sure, Cho was pretty and nice and all those other things, but she just wasn't Hermione. Nobody was.
Ron knew that Hermione didn't care for him like he cared for her, but that didn't stop him from hoping that one day she'd realise she liked him, the available one who liked her back.
Not the other git who was too stupid to realize what he was missing.
Ron had promised himself at the outtake that no matter what, he wouldn't get angry and break Harry's nose for hurting Hermione the way he did. It was a difficult though, and especially so when he dragged them out to Hogsmead on one of those "double dates" that caused Hermione so much pain. Ron always made a point of dragging Harry off to Zonko's to give Hermione a break from watching those two make out all the time. And Hermione did look happier when they got back, laughing and smiling with Cho. But it didn't last long, and the now familiar look of pain returned as Cho jumped back into Harry's arms with a loud, "I missed you!" or a "What took you so long?"
Ron always wanted to stop her pain and make her feel better. He tried to take her mind off it with a game of chess or a dumb joke she could scold him for. It seemed to work, too, and she'd stop looking all sad and lovesick, even if Harry was sitting right next to her. Yet when Harry mentioned Cho's next match against Huffelpuff, or how he had to buy her something for Valentines Day, or what he was going to wear to the February 14th ball to which he'd already asked her, the pained look would return, and Hermione would retreat back into her shell once more.
Speaking of the ball, Ron hadn't tried to ask her to it today. He decided to corner her at lunch and pop the question. He knew it wasn't really him she wanted to go with, but maybe with a little time and patience, (and chocolate,) she could learn to *like* like him, instead of just liking him. And Ron was nothing if not persistent.
And so Ron Weasly, lovesick boy and chess extraordinaire, left his room, and moved on to his first class.
Authors notes: This is my first story, k? Be nice. Flames will be used to bake comfort cookies. R&R for more later!!
Reactions of Ron
Despite what most people seemed to think of him, Ron Weasly was not completely oblivious. Whilst not the worlds most perceptive person, he could see things that were sitting right under his nose.
The fact that somewhere over the last five years Hermione had evolved from a bossy bookworm into a beautiful, mature, witty, gifted young witch, for example.
He was also not oblivious to his own, more-than-friendly-feelings for her. Or to the fact that she had more-than-friendly feelings for someone else.
Why Harry, though? What had he got that Ron didn't?
At first Ron thought that he was jumping to conclusions, that the heartache and pain that hid behind those expressive cinnamon eyes every time Cho and Harry kissed was just a figment of his overactive, jealous imagination.
He knew that it wasn't, though.
How Harry could have Hermione's heart and yet choose Cho Chang instead was a mystery to him. Sure, Cho was pretty and nice and all those other things, but she just wasn't Hermione. Nobody was.
Ron knew that Hermione didn't care for him like he cared for her, but that didn't stop him from hoping that one day she'd realise she liked him, the available one who liked her back.
Not the other git who was too stupid to realize what he was missing.
Ron had promised himself at the outtake that no matter what, he wouldn't get angry and break Harry's nose for hurting Hermione the way he did. It was a difficult though, and especially so when he dragged them out to Hogsmead on one of those "double dates" that caused Hermione so much pain. Ron always made a point of dragging Harry off to Zonko's to give Hermione a break from watching those two make out all the time. And Hermione did look happier when they got back, laughing and smiling with Cho. But it didn't last long, and the now familiar look of pain returned as Cho jumped back into Harry's arms with a loud, "I missed you!" or a "What took you so long?"
Ron always wanted to stop her pain and make her feel better. He tried to take her mind off it with a game of chess or a dumb joke she could scold him for. It seemed to work, too, and she'd stop looking all sad and lovesick, even if Harry was sitting right next to her. Yet when Harry mentioned Cho's next match against Huffelpuff, or how he had to buy her something for Valentines Day, or what he was going to wear to the February 14th ball to which he'd already asked her, the pained look would return, and Hermione would retreat back into her shell once more.
Speaking of the ball, Ron hadn't tried to ask her to it today. He decided to corner her at lunch and pop the question. He knew it wasn't really him she wanted to go with, but maybe with a little time and patience, (and chocolate,) she could learn to *like* like him, instead of just liking him. And Ron was nothing if not persistent.
And so Ron Weasly, lovesick boy and chess extraordinaire, left his room, and moved on to his first class.