Author's Notes: A long-overdue assignment for Deviantart's Ron-x-Hermione club, where members write stories based on quotes from the series. Mine was "After all, when has Won-Won's judgment ever been faulty?" Admittedly this is only vaguely related to that prompt, which may be part of the reason it took me so long to come up with this. ^^;
Hope you enjoy!
"I honestly can't believe you're doing this," Hermione said, peering over the top of her book as Ron scribbled messily on the parchment application.
"Yes, you've mentioned that once or twice already." He paused, scratching his quill against his temple and smearing ink in his hair. "'Greatest fault?' Why would they expect me to list that? What do I put?"
"That you're irresponsible enough to try taking Auror classes without even finishing your primary education!"
"'Works…too…hard…sometimes.' They should buy that, right? Ha, 'Summarize your experience in six inches.' I'll just write in big letters, 'I KILLED YOU-KNOW-WHO, YOU IDIOTS!'"
"Strange, I could have sworn Harry had something to do with that."
"Well, I stabbed You-Know-Who's—bloody evil eye necklace, that's gotta count for something. I killed a seventh of 'im!"
"An eighth, and Ron, would you please stop writing and listen to me? I really don't think that this is a good idea!"
"Hermione, for the last time, I'm not taking my N.E.W.T.s, alright?" He glared at her from across the table, stabbing down a bit hard with his quill and leaving an ink splotch on the parchment. "Kingsley said anybody who fought in the last battle could apply as long as they're of age. Why should I spent months preparing for a test that I don't even need to take?"
"Because we missed an entire year of schoolwork, that's why! Do you have any idea how behind we all are?" Hearing a near-hysterical squeak in her voice, she paused to take a deep breath before continuing. "You haven't even studied basic seventh-year spells yet. How are you going to manage advanced Auror lessons?"
"I'll manage. Hell, the three of us managed to survive the last year with just a sixth-year education, didn't we?" He leaned over his application again, scowling. "Besides, I don't see you bugging Harry so much about all this," he grumbled.
Hermione scoffed. "That's because I don't think the Auror Office would let Harry turn them down if he wanted to. And besides, you know he's a—Defense Against the Dark Arts prodigy, You-Know-Who aside. But you're…"
Her tongue stumbled for a moment, and Ron looked up again, his eyes very narrow. "I'm what, Hermione?"
"…not a prodigy. But neither am I!" she added defensively. "That's why I'm actually doing the responsible thing and finishing my education!" She motioned to the book she was studying, which was approximately the same size and thickness of a dragon's head.
Ron stared for another moment and then went back to his application, his scowl deepening. Who cares what she thinks, he thought. She never seemed to think he could do anything, and he wasn't going to let her think she could start bossing him around just because they were finally dating.
Hermione stared at him for a long moment, apparently expecting some kind of response. She crossed her arms. "Well?"
Ron stood, rolling up his parchment and avoiding her gaze. "I'm going to send this."
He swept out of the room, ignoring Hermione's dismissive groan from behind him.
"Oi, Ron. Ron. Ron!"
"Huh?"
Ron jerked awake, spinning around. George had stuck his head out from the back room. He looked disgusted.
"Are you falling asleep on the job? Merlin's pants, Ron! Where do you think you are, school? I'm not paying you to take a nap!"
"I wasn't napping! I was just—resting my eyes, that's all," Ron mumbled, rubbing his eye with his fist. "I had that damn night class last night, remember? Besides, if you'd given me the day off like I asked for—"
"Yeah, yeah, your needs, whatever." George waved his hand dismissively. "Just stay awake! Minding this shop is no laughing matter, you know. And restock the Whoopee cushions!" he added, disappearing into the back room again.
Ron scowled after him as the shop's door opened. It was Hermione.
"Good afternoon, Ron."
"Good after—auuugh." Ron yawned, blinking blearily. Hermione frowned.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, just—had that class last night," Ron said, waving her question away. "No big deal."
"Are you sure? You seem to be working yourself ragged lately."
"Well, you of all people would know how much work goes into a quality education."
"Ha ha," Hermione drawled, leaning with her elbows on the counter and giving Ron a solemn look. "But I'm serious. You seem to be having even more trouble with this year's lessons than last year's, and I think—"
"I did fine on last year's lessons," Ron growled, his eyes suddenly turning very hard.
"You were struggling the whole—"
"And I got passing marks, so all that struggling paid off, didn't it?" he snapped. Damn, will she ever get off my back? "Is there a reason you're here?" he said out loud.
"What?" Hermione looked surprised by his sudden change of mood. "Well, no—I just needed to pick up some books at Flourish and Blott's and thought I'd stop in to say hi."
"Well, hi. And bye. I have—bloody Whoopee cushions to deal with," he grumbled.
He bent down, picked up a box of self-inflating Whoopee cushions from under the counter and walked around it to the shelves, acting as if he no longer noticed that Hermione was there. She glared at the back of his head in annoyance. I don't know what is with him sometimes, she thought, sweeping out of the shop again without another word.
"Ugh."
Ron fell face-down onto his pile of books and notes. His head was throbbing. His body was aching. It was the night before his final evaluation for Auror certification, the culmination of the last three years of his life. He had been preparing for hours—practicing spells, dueling with his siblings back at his parents house, and studying. Studying until his brain could not take one more single fact.
His eyes closed. Lemme just rest a minute, he thought blearily. Take a five minute break, then you can get back to…
"RON!"
"Agh!"
He sat up quickly, a piece of parchment still stuck to his face, as Hermione let herself into his flat, scowling in disapproval. (Ron was really starting to regret giving her that key.)
"I thought you were supposed to be studying!"
"I was studying!" Ron snapped, peeling the parchment off of his face and throwing it bitterly back on the table. "I'm fainting from all the studying I'm doing!"
He sighed, wearily covering his face with his hands. Hermione's expression softened a bit. "Well, maybe I can help you," she suggested, coming over to sit on the couch beside him.
"I don't know about that," Ron muttered, sinking into his seat. "There's a lot to cover."
"Oh, there can't be that much. Let's see, ah, is this your syllabus? Hmm, 'Rules and Regulations,' 'Spells and Charms,' 'Stealth and Infiltration,' 'Magical Creatures,' 'Philosophies and Schools of the Dark Arts'…'Potions'…'Identifying Arcane Objects'…um…" Her eyes traveled down the long parchment, widening as they went. "Well. This…is rather extensive, isn't it?"
Ron rubbed his temples. "And keep in mind, this isn't all just book—stuff. I have to go through an obstacle course, duel somebody in my class, and fight some kind of creature that they select at random. And Harry said that yes, they do have one of Hagrid's blasted Acromantula grand-monsters as an option."
"Oh, dear."
"Yeah."
"…Well, Harry passed, at least," Hermione said. He had already taken the evaluations a few days prior.
Ron nodded. "Yeah. Not that there was ever any doubt, was there?" He tried not to sound too bitter about that.
"Well, no," Hermione admitted. "But even he had a lot of trouble with all this. Try not to compare yourself to him too much, alright?"
"Yeah, yeah…" Ron murmured, leafing through one of his textbooks grimly.
Hermione hesitated for a moment, then scooted a bit closer to him. "And don't feel like you have to prove anything with this test, either. It doesn't matter if Harry or anyone else passed, that doesn't mean you have to."
Ron stopped leafing, pausing as Hermione's words sunk in. "…What?"
"I mean, it really means a lot just that you managed to get this far," Hermione continued, not noticing the dark look crossing her boyfriend's face. "Even if—"
"What do you mean, IF I pass?" Ron interrupted loudly. "I'm going to pass, Hermione."
She seemed taken aback. "Well…of course, I mean, you should aim to pass if you can. But these are very difficult tests, after all, lots of people fall short—"
"So you don't think I can do it, then?"
"What? No, that's not what I'm saying! Just that—"
"Just what? That you think I'm going to crash and burn, is it?"
"No! Why are you yelling at me?" she snapped, crossing her arms defensively.
"Because I'm over here studying my brain out, and then you waltz in and start acting like I've already failed it!"
"That's not what I said! I just think that—"
"Yeah, I know what you 'just think!' You've been making that abundantly clear for years…"
"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Hermione demanded, jumping to her feet.
"Oh, don't play dumb!" Ron snarled, also rising so that he could glare nearly a foot down at her. "Ever since I started Auror training you've been treating it just like a big joke! For the last three years, all I ever hear from you is about how this was a bad idea and I was never going to pass!"
"What? That is not true!"
"Yes it is! I can't think of one time that you actually acted like I had any chance of getting my Auror license!"
"Well, then you must taken one too many hits to the head during your precious Auror training, because I have never said—"
"Get out of my flat!"
"What?"
"You heard me! Get out!" Ron jabbed his finger at the door. "I have studying to do, and if you're going to make fun of me for actually trying to—"
"I am n—"
"OUT!"
The two stared at each other for a moment. Ron's eyes were fiery, his expression stony—Hermione looked astonished, angry and, Ron couldn't help but notice, slightly wounded.
"…Well, fine then! See what I get for trying to help!" She stormed over to the door, throwing it open. "Good luck on your bleeding test, then!"
She slammed the door behind her, rattling the walls. Ron threw himself back onto the couch, grabbing a book and nearly ripping the pages out as he flew through them. He was too angry to focus on any of the words, though, and after a few minutes he let out a frustrated growl and threw it at the door before curling up amidst his papers again to try and rest.
The entire Weasley clan had been desperate to find out if its two scions were going to make it into the Aurors; even George had stopped making fun of him long enough to seem anxious, which somehow struck Ron as both incredibly uplifting and horrendously stressful. Having sworn that he would end the suspense as soon as possible, immediately after Ron's exams he Apparated right in front of the Burrow's gates.
He had been half-expecting to find his mother or at least one of his siblings waiting for him there; instead Hermione was standing in the garden, leaning on the fence.
A moment of awkward silence ensued as the two looked at each other. Ron's face instinctively went into a blank grimace; he was in no mood to fight at the moment, to be honest, but he was perfectly willing to continue the previous day's argument rather than forfeit.
"…Hello, Ron," she said.
"…Hello."
She opened the gate for him; he awkwardly stepped through, and she joined him as he began to walk toward the house, both taking very small, slow steps.
"Look…I've been thinking, and I—"
"I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," Ron interrupted, blurting the words out before he even realized it. The stony-grimacing side of him slapped its face in annoyance. "I was just—you know, tired from all the studying, and—"
"Well, I know that, but—well, look, Ron, I know I can be a bit…critical at times, but I'm sorry if I came across like you said I did," Hermione stammered, looking down at her feet as they walked. "I was just—afraid that you would get hurt if this whole Auror thing didn't pan out."
"Hmph."
"You know a lot of people don't pass their Auror tests," she added defensively. "Including really talented wizards. I never meant that you couldn't pass."
"…Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. "I know."
There was a short silence, during which time they reached the back door. Ron was looking away sheepishly. Hermione smiled wanly.
"…Well, you're not going to keep me in suspense any longer, are you?"
He looked up, blinking. "Huh?"
"Oh, Merlin's beard—how did the test go?"
"Oh!" Ron grinned, straightening his disheveled robe and puffing out his chest proudly. "Quite well, actually. In fact, I'm pleased to say that you are speaking to the Ministry of Magic's newest-licensed Auror."
The wide, beaming grin on Ron's face was met by a small but bright smile on hers. "Well, that's good news," she said, opening the back door and leading Ron into the kitchen. "It would have seemed a waste to decorate the whole house otherwise."
"I—wait, wh—?"
"SURPRISE!"
Ron let out a cry, almost jumping back out of the crowded kitchen. Several Weasleys, all wearing party hats, burst out laughing.
"Oi, look, everyone, we scared the big, bad Auror!"
"Be quiet, George! Oh, congratulations, Ron, I'm so proud of you!"
"Attaboy, Ron, attaboy!"
Hermione grinned at Ron's shocked expression, standing on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I knew you could do it, Ron," she whispered.
He gave her a skeptical look from the corner of his eyes, but couldn't stop his mouth from curling into a sly grin.