He looked stupid as hell, and I couldn't wait to tell him so. Standing there in the courtyard, a cigarette between his lips, his hair blowing in the wind while ash was blown ash all over his robes. His scarf whipping in the cold November air, threatening to smack him in the face.
He inhaled deeply, exhaling moments later with a devil-may-care sigh. James Dean would have rolled over in his grave. For me, however, it was like a train wreck: I couldn't look away. Neither, apparently, could Lavender Brown, smoking her slims a few columns down, eyeing him up and down.
"Care for a fag?" he asked, raising a brow, falling short laughably short of the essence of cool he no doubt was going for.
"You're a fag…" I muttered under my breathe, glancing at Lavender's hungry eyes, "She'll suck you up, then blow you away…"
"What was that?" he asked, his cigarette hanging limply in his hands as he was momentarily distracted from the hip persona he was trying on, but wore oddly, like an over sized coat and pants that hang above the ankles: a bad fit. A rebel with a cause, and the cause was 'cool'.
"Nothing," I responded coolly, grabbing the cigarette from his fingers and popping it between in lips. I inhaled deeply and felt the scorching ash burn its way down my throat. I fought the urge to cough, gag, hack, my eyes watering slightly as I turned away in the appearance of not wanting to blow my smoke as him, and exhaled harshly.
Lavender laughed derisively behind her gloved hands to Pavarti who rolled her eyes, lifting a lighter to her bare cigarette propped haphazardly between her lips as she exchanged insults and put downs with Lavender out of the side of her mouth, fumbling with the flicking flame with cold bitten fingers.
Ron followed my eye line, meeting Lavender's eyes just in time for her to go from bitchy and snobbish to sexy and elusive. Ron lifted his head to her, that cool guy nod, and she batted her eyelashes back at him. He failed to wink back at her, his eye twitching somewhat as he failed to master it. I couldn't help but snort with laughter and he looked at me hurt and somewhat dejected.
"I..I.." I stammered, his wide blue eyes traveling from the sizzling butt in his hands to the girls batting their eyes and flashing seductive smiles across the court. I grabbed the butt from his fingers, dropping it to the slushy, cold stone, crushing it beneath my heel.
"I think you're cool just as you are, Ronald Weasley," I smiled. He nodded, an "awe-shucks" grin play on his face that he wore well, better than more expressions, and took my hand, leading me from the courtyard, dropping the remainder of his slightly squashed pack in the bin as we passed. I glanced over my shoulder at Lavender, her eyes roving us up and down, her expression distant and aloof, but I knew better. Unlike her, I wasn't pretending.
I turned and caught Ron's eye. He squeezed my hand and I couldn't help but smile, warmth filling me up inside. With Ron by my side, who needed cool?