Disclaimer: We do not own Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Ginny. It doesn't matter
whether or not we own Dumbledore, Luna, Malfoy, or Cho because they are not
in this story.
Dedication: This is dedicated to Spaced Out Space Cadet for being such a loyal reader. You're bloody brilliant!
~*~This is a cute little fic that me (Carmen Willows) and my friend (May Waters) wrote together today. It made me giggle so I hope that you like it, too. Also, look for more updates from me soon!
Hermione's Toast
Brilliant white snow was pilling on top of the Hogwarts rooftop. Small pieces of ice fell swiftly from a mass of clouds above. Inside, the smell of Christmas turkey wafted through the halls and into every corridor. Mrs. Norris was often seen sniffing the air, perhaps hoping for a treat. It was just before breakfast when Ron Weasley was laying on a squashy couch in the Gryfindor common room, eating from a large box of Bertie Bot's Every Flavor Beans, a jug of butterbeer beside him.
"Hmmm...Chocolate," he muttered. "Want some, Harry?"
His best friend, Harry Potter, was sitting on an armchair across from him, reading Flying with the Cannons. He looked up from the pages and glanced uneasily at the pale green bean that Ron was holding. "No thanks."
"Oh, Ron, can't you do something else other than eat sweets all day," said Hermione Granger, their other best friend, while walking down the stairs. She was a book smart girl with bushy brown hair and hazel eyes. "Honestly, it's as if you never do anything else."
"Well, merry Christmas to you, too," Ron replied, tossing another bean into his mouth.
"Do you not realize that we have a total of four tests and three essays due next week?" Hermione replied scathingly.
"Come on, Mione, it's not even Christmas yet, and you're worried about schoolwork," Ron said, shaking his head.
"Hi, Hermione," Harry said, knowing that he wouldn't be heard.
"Well, I actually care about my future, and I'm not going to end up working at The Hog's Head because I failed all of my classes."
"Relax, that's where idiots like Goyle are going to end up. You're the top in the class! You could use a break. Come on, have a bean. I think this one's toffee," Ron said, examining a brown one.
Hermione sighed. "Look, I've got work to do in the library. If either of you wants to join me, you're welcome to." She turned on her heel and exited through the portrait hole.
"Honestly, I don't know what she's worried about," Ron muttered, searching for yet another bean. "I mean, who goes to the library on holiday?"
Harry, however, wasn't listening. He noticed something lying on the rich red carpet that wasn't there five minutes ago. He closed his book, rested it on a nearby table, and picked the certain something up. It was a piece of parchment, neatly folded twice. It reminded Harry of the kind of notes that Parvati and Lavender, giggling, passed to each other during class.
"I mean, it's not like she's going to fail, or anything, but – what's that?" Ron caught sight of the paper in his best friend's hand.
"Don't know. Some letter, I guess. Hermione must have dropped it," Harry replied.
"Well, let's look at it." Ron insisted, leaning forward. It was the first time he looked remotely interested in anything all morning.
"Why? It's Hermione's, isn't it? Shouldn't we give it back to her?"
"Well, she's probably in the middle of reading the encyclopedia and doesn't want to be disturbed. So, go on, open it." Ron sank back and continued digging through his box of Bertie Bots.
Figuring that Hermione wouldn't be too upset if he just took a peak at what she had written – 'It's probably just notes on troll trials,' a little voice in his head told him – he carefully unfolded the parchment. A first glance told him that it was a letter to Ginny.
Ginny, I don't quite know what to do. I've tried telling him, but sometimes he seems too thick to understand what I'm saying. You tell me that he likes me, in
fact, I'm almost sure he does. It's just that we're always fighting,
and I can never get a word in about it.
Harry knew instantly that this was not a letter that he was meant to continue reading, but his curiosity took hold of him, and he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering farther dawn the page.
I've had a lot of time to think about how I feel. I know that
sometimes I just can't stand him, but others, like when we're sitting
by the fire together, there's no place that I would rather be. I guess
that what it comes down to is that I really like Ron, and I want us to
be together.
Harry stared at the page, unable to comprehend what the letter said. Perhaps he hadn't read it right? He scanned the writing again. It couldn't be possible, yet it was there in black and white – Ron and Hermione? It was just so. . . unlikely. They were always fighting, if not about homework, then about Harry, or Quiditch, or Victor Krum.
Victor Krum. A wave of astonishment and understanding suddenly swept through Harry's mind. Victory Krum, who Ron was always mysteriously jealous of, then the perfume he gave to her last Christmas, and the constant bickering. Had he really been that blind?
"Ick, there really is a boggie flavored one!" Ron howled, bringing Harry back to his senses. Hastily, he tried to fold up the note. What would Ron do if he saw it? However, he must have been standing in one place a moment too long because suddenly Ron was beside him. "So, what's it say? Anything good?"
"Erm. . . no," he muttered. "Not anything. . . no."
"Come on, it's not like she would write to anyone about one of us." He snatched the note from Harry's hands before Harry had a chance to protest and began reading. Slowly, as he neared the bottom of the page, his face fell. Even after he finished, he stood steadfastly gazing at the paper. There was an unbroken silence for a moment.
"So," Harry said uneasily, "wizard chess, anyone?"
Ron opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"Butterbeer? Chocolate frogs? Toast?"
"Me.....me and Hermione?"
Just then, the portrait hole opened and Hermione came in seeming preoccupied. "I think I've lost my Transfiguration book somewhere. Have you've seen it?" Ron stuffed the note clumsily into his pocket.
"Here," Harry said, grabbing his bag. "Take mine."
"Thanks, Harry," she replied, taking the book in her arms. A moment later, she had set off again for the library.
"So, how 'bout that toast?" Harry asked cheerfully.
"Me. Me and – Hermione?" Ron repeated. "Is – is that even possible?" he said, looking Harry in the eyes.
"I don't know. Do you want it to be?" Harry asked.
"I – I'm not sure. I mean, yeah, sure we fight a lot, but that doesn't mean that we like each other," he paused. "Does it?"
Harry didn't say anything. The truth was – he didn't know either. Could his two best friends really like each other? Hermione obviously did, and Ron's actions lately did suggest it. Then, that must mean. . .
"Do I like Hermione?" Ron whispered, bewildered. "Do I like her?"
"Like who?" a voice said from the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. Harry and Ron turned to see another Weasley with bright red hair coming down the stairs, a furry Crookshanks in her arms. "Who do you not know if you like?" Ginny asked.
"Leave us alone. Go bother someone else," Ron mumbled. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than his expression cleared, and he looked up in wonder at Ginny. "Hey, wait, Gin! Listen, can I ask you something?"
"Your question depends on whether or not I answer, but go ahead," she replied.
"Okay. Look, you're a girl, right?"
"Wow, Ron. Nothing gets past you."
"Okay, so explain this to me. I know this girl, and let's just say that she likes. . . err. . . Harry, here."
"Wait – what?" Harry said.
"So this girl likes Harry – "
"Wait a second, who are we saying likes me?"
"Fine!" Ron said stiffly. "So the girl likes me. Okay? This girl likes me." He turned back to Ginny. "Okay, so the two of us have known each other for a really long time, and we're always biting each other's heads off. Sometimes we can't even stand being in the same room. So now she suddenly likes me." He looked at his little sister expectantly. "Well?"
Ginny looked at him skeptically. Then she gave him a small smile. "This is about Hermione, isn't it?"
"How did you know?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Well, she can't very well start talking about boys with you now, can she?"
"Okay, can you please explain this to me?"
Ginny grinned. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes! Tell me already!"
Ginny crossed to the fire and sat down in Harry's armchair. "Well, if you really must know, Hermione's liked you since the end of third year when you saved Sirius from the dementors. She thought you were sweet for sticking up for Harry and kind of brave with the whole Wormtail thing. I guess she thought you were kind of cute, too," she glanced at her brother, "though don't ask me why. Well, fourth year was the Yule ball, and you wouldn't ask her out."
"What? I did!"
"Yes, but that was only because you wanted her as a last resort." Ron didn't say anything. "So, Victor asked her, and she accepted because she thought it would get you to notice her, and she was right. Last year – "
"Well, how can I fail to notice when she goes off to Bulgaria to go tramping around with Vicky?"
"If you just took the time to ask her, you'd find out that she didn't go to visit Victor over the summer."
"What?"
"That's right. She stayed here for you. Last year," she continued with impatience, "you were both prefects, in DA together, and in all the same classes, yet you still didn't realize how much you like her."
"But – I don't – right?" Ron asked uneasily.
"Ron," Ginny said sympathetically and sighing, "Think about it. Haven't you ever thought that Hermione was pretty, or brave, or smart – "
"Well, of course she's smart. She's Hermione!"
"So smart that you admired her? Haven't you ever stayed awake one night after spending the most incredible time with her wondering why you were so happy? Haven't you ever thought that there wasn't anyone in the world more beautiful than her? Haven't you ever wanted to be with her?"
Ron didn't say anything. A stillness swept through the empty common room as Ron's expression cleared. Then he said in a voice barely audible, "But we fight all the time."
"That's just how some people express their feelings." Ginny's voice was soft and understanding. "She just doesn't know how to tell you."
Ron sat in silence in the common room long after Ginny had left. A few people wandered in and out, laughing and snowy from outside. Harry had once again opened his book, yet he couldn't keep his focus. What did all of this mean? Would Hermione and Ron now become 'a couple?' Of course things would never be the same, but what would become of their friendship? Would he, Harry, be cast away and be considered a third wheel? Then again, what could he do to stop it?
"Do you want to go get some breakfast?" Harry said, feeling the need for words. "They might not have cleared the plates yet."
Ron gazed at the carpet for a moment and then nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Sure. Breakfast."
"So," Harry said quietly as they passed a painting of field full of lavender, "do you want to talk about it?"
"At first, I didn't know what to make of it. I mean, we were friends, and I was happy with that."
"And now?"
"Honestly? I like her. I really do."
A suit of armor nearby sang a few mumbled words of "Oh Come All Ye, Faithful" before stopping, finding it pointless to continue. "So. . . are you going to tell her?"
Ron paused for a moment, clearly in deep thought. "No," he said firmly. "I like her, but – not just yet."
They sat down at the far end of the table in the Great Hall. After several minutes of strained silence in which they poured themselves glasses of pumpkin juice, Hermione bustled in.
"I'm starving," she said, setting her book bag down on a spare seat. "I'm so glad I didn't miss breakfast, but I found the most interesting thing in the library. It –" She paused, seeing a dazed-looking Ron watching her. "Ron, are you alright?"
"What?" he stammered. "Oh – oh yeah. I'm fine. Just fine." He smiled. "Toast?"
~*~Well, that's it. No more. Did you like it? There's only one way for me to know. You know what to do! Review...............NOW! Love always, Carmen Willows and May Waters
Dedication: This is dedicated to Spaced Out Space Cadet for being such a loyal reader. You're bloody brilliant!
~*~This is a cute little fic that me (Carmen Willows) and my friend (May Waters) wrote together today. It made me giggle so I hope that you like it, too. Also, look for more updates from me soon!
Hermione's Toast
Brilliant white snow was pilling on top of the Hogwarts rooftop. Small pieces of ice fell swiftly from a mass of clouds above. Inside, the smell of Christmas turkey wafted through the halls and into every corridor. Mrs. Norris was often seen sniffing the air, perhaps hoping for a treat. It was just before breakfast when Ron Weasley was laying on a squashy couch in the Gryfindor common room, eating from a large box of Bertie Bot's Every Flavor Beans, a jug of butterbeer beside him.
"Hmmm...Chocolate," he muttered. "Want some, Harry?"
His best friend, Harry Potter, was sitting on an armchair across from him, reading Flying with the Cannons. He looked up from the pages and glanced uneasily at the pale green bean that Ron was holding. "No thanks."
"Oh, Ron, can't you do something else other than eat sweets all day," said Hermione Granger, their other best friend, while walking down the stairs. She was a book smart girl with bushy brown hair and hazel eyes. "Honestly, it's as if you never do anything else."
"Well, merry Christmas to you, too," Ron replied, tossing another bean into his mouth.
"Do you not realize that we have a total of four tests and three essays due next week?" Hermione replied scathingly.
"Come on, Mione, it's not even Christmas yet, and you're worried about schoolwork," Ron said, shaking his head.
"Hi, Hermione," Harry said, knowing that he wouldn't be heard.
"Well, I actually care about my future, and I'm not going to end up working at The Hog's Head because I failed all of my classes."
"Relax, that's where idiots like Goyle are going to end up. You're the top in the class! You could use a break. Come on, have a bean. I think this one's toffee," Ron said, examining a brown one.
Hermione sighed. "Look, I've got work to do in the library. If either of you wants to join me, you're welcome to." She turned on her heel and exited through the portrait hole.
"Honestly, I don't know what she's worried about," Ron muttered, searching for yet another bean. "I mean, who goes to the library on holiday?"
Harry, however, wasn't listening. He noticed something lying on the rich red carpet that wasn't there five minutes ago. He closed his book, rested it on a nearby table, and picked the certain something up. It was a piece of parchment, neatly folded twice. It reminded Harry of the kind of notes that Parvati and Lavender, giggling, passed to each other during class.
"I mean, it's not like she's going to fail, or anything, but – what's that?" Ron caught sight of the paper in his best friend's hand.
"Don't know. Some letter, I guess. Hermione must have dropped it," Harry replied.
"Well, let's look at it." Ron insisted, leaning forward. It was the first time he looked remotely interested in anything all morning.
"Why? It's Hermione's, isn't it? Shouldn't we give it back to her?"
"Well, she's probably in the middle of reading the encyclopedia and doesn't want to be disturbed. So, go on, open it." Ron sank back and continued digging through his box of Bertie Bots.
Figuring that Hermione wouldn't be too upset if he just took a peak at what she had written – 'It's probably just notes on troll trials,' a little voice in his head told him – he carefully unfolded the parchment. A first glance told him that it was a letter to Ginny.
Ginny, I don't quite know what to do. I've tried telling him, but sometimes he seems too thick to understand what I'm saying. You tell me that he likes me, in
fact, I'm almost sure he does. It's just that we're always fighting,
and I can never get a word in about it.
Harry knew instantly that this was not a letter that he was meant to continue reading, but his curiosity took hold of him, and he couldn't stop his eyes from wandering farther dawn the page.
I've had a lot of time to think about how I feel. I know that
sometimes I just can't stand him, but others, like when we're sitting
by the fire together, there's no place that I would rather be. I guess
that what it comes down to is that I really like Ron, and I want us to
be together.
Harry stared at the page, unable to comprehend what the letter said. Perhaps he hadn't read it right? He scanned the writing again. It couldn't be possible, yet it was there in black and white – Ron and Hermione? It was just so. . . unlikely. They were always fighting, if not about homework, then about Harry, or Quiditch, or Victor Krum.
Victor Krum. A wave of astonishment and understanding suddenly swept through Harry's mind. Victory Krum, who Ron was always mysteriously jealous of, then the perfume he gave to her last Christmas, and the constant bickering. Had he really been that blind?
"Ick, there really is a boggie flavored one!" Ron howled, bringing Harry back to his senses. Hastily, he tried to fold up the note. What would Ron do if he saw it? However, he must have been standing in one place a moment too long because suddenly Ron was beside him. "So, what's it say? Anything good?"
"Erm. . . no," he muttered. "Not anything. . . no."
"Come on, it's not like she would write to anyone about one of us." He snatched the note from Harry's hands before Harry had a chance to protest and began reading. Slowly, as he neared the bottom of the page, his face fell. Even after he finished, he stood steadfastly gazing at the paper. There was an unbroken silence for a moment.
"So," Harry said uneasily, "wizard chess, anyone?"
Ron opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"Butterbeer? Chocolate frogs? Toast?"
"Me.....me and Hermione?"
Just then, the portrait hole opened and Hermione came in seeming preoccupied. "I think I've lost my Transfiguration book somewhere. Have you've seen it?" Ron stuffed the note clumsily into his pocket.
"Here," Harry said, grabbing his bag. "Take mine."
"Thanks, Harry," she replied, taking the book in her arms. A moment later, she had set off again for the library.
"So, how 'bout that toast?" Harry asked cheerfully.
"Me. Me and – Hermione?" Ron repeated. "Is – is that even possible?" he said, looking Harry in the eyes.
"I don't know. Do you want it to be?" Harry asked.
"I – I'm not sure. I mean, yeah, sure we fight a lot, but that doesn't mean that we like each other," he paused. "Does it?"
Harry didn't say anything. The truth was – he didn't know either. Could his two best friends really like each other? Hermione obviously did, and Ron's actions lately did suggest it. Then, that must mean. . .
"Do I like Hermione?" Ron whispered, bewildered. "Do I like her?"
"Like who?" a voice said from the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. Harry and Ron turned to see another Weasley with bright red hair coming down the stairs, a furry Crookshanks in her arms. "Who do you not know if you like?" Ginny asked.
"Leave us alone. Go bother someone else," Ron mumbled. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than his expression cleared, and he looked up in wonder at Ginny. "Hey, wait, Gin! Listen, can I ask you something?"
"Your question depends on whether or not I answer, but go ahead," she replied.
"Okay. Look, you're a girl, right?"
"Wow, Ron. Nothing gets past you."
"Okay, so explain this to me. I know this girl, and let's just say that she likes. . . err. . . Harry, here."
"Wait – what?" Harry said.
"So this girl likes Harry – "
"Wait a second, who are we saying likes me?"
"Fine!" Ron said stiffly. "So the girl likes me. Okay? This girl likes me." He turned back to Ginny. "Okay, so the two of us have known each other for a really long time, and we're always biting each other's heads off. Sometimes we can't even stand being in the same room. So now she suddenly likes me." He looked at his little sister expectantly. "Well?"
Ginny looked at him skeptically. Then she gave him a small smile. "This is about Hermione, isn't it?"
"How did you know?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Well, she can't very well start talking about boys with you now, can she?"
"Okay, can you please explain this to me?"
Ginny grinned. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes! Tell me already!"
Ginny crossed to the fire and sat down in Harry's armchair. "Well, if you really must know, Hermione's liked you since the end of third year when you saved Sirius from the dementors. She thought you were sweet for sticking up for Harry and kind of brave with the whole Wormtail thing. I guess she thought you were kind of cute, too," she glanced at her brother, "though don't ask me why. Well, fourth year was the Yule ball, and you wouldn't ask her out."
"What? I did!"
"Yes, but that was only because you wanted her as a last resort." Ron didn't say anything. "So, Victor asked her, and she accepted because she thought it would get you to notice her, and she was right. Last year – "
"Well, how can I fail to notice when she goes off to Bulgaria to go tramping around with Vicky?"
"If you just took the time to ask her, you'd find out that she didn't go to visit Victor over the summer."
"What?"
"That's right. She stayed here for you. Last year," she continued with impatience, "you were both prefects, in DA together, and in all the same classes, yet you still didn't realize how much you like her."
"But – I don't – right?" Ron asked uneasily.
"Ron," Ginny said sympathetically and sighing, "Think about it. Haven't you ever thought that Hermione was pretty, or brave, or smart – "
"Well, of course she's smart. She's Hermione!"
"So smart that you admired her? Haven't you ever stayed awake one night after spending the most incredible time with her wondering why you were so happy? Haven't you ever thought that there wasn't anyone in the world more beautiful than her? Haven't you ever wanted to be with her?"
Ron didn't say anything. A stillness swept through the empty common room as Ron's expression cleared. Then he said in a voice barely audible, "But we fight all the time."
"That's just how some people express their feelings." Ginny's voice was soft and understanding. "She just doesn't know how to tell you."
Ron sat in silence in the common room long after Ginny had left. A few people wandered in and out, laughing and snowy from outside. Harry had once again opened his book, yet he couldn't keep his focus. What did all of this mean? Would Hermione and Ron now become 'a couple?' Of course things would never be the same, but what would become of their friendship? Would he, Harry, be cast away and be considered a third wheel? Then again, what could he do to stop it?
"Do you want to go get some breakfast?" Harry said, feeling the need for words. "They might not have cleared the plates yet."
Ron gazed at the carpet for a moment and then nodded vigorously. "Yeah. Sure. Breakfast."
"So," Harry said quietly as they passed a painting of field full of lavender, "do you want to talk about it?"
"At first, I didn't know what to make of it. I mean, we were friends, and I was happy with that."
"And now?"
"Honestly? I like her. I really do."
A suit of armor nearby sang a few mumbled words of "Oh Come All Ye, Faithful" before stopping, finding it pointless to continue. "So. . . are you going to tell her?"
Ron paused for a moment, clearly in deep thought. "No," he said firmly. "I like her, but – not just yet."
They sat down at the far end of the table in the Great Hall. After several minutes of strained silence in which they poured themselves glasses of pumpkin juice, Hermione bustled in.
"I'm starving," she said, setting her book bag down on a spare seat. "I'm so glad I didn't miss breakfast, but I found the most interesting thing in the library. It –" She paused, seeing a dazed-looking Ron watching her. "Ron, are you alright?"
"What?" he stammered. "Oh – oh yeah. I'm fine. Just fine." He smiled. "Toast?"
~*~Well, that's it. No more. Did you like it? There's only one way for me to know. You know what to do! Review...............NOW! Love always, Carmen Willows and May Waters