"Have fun storming the castle!" – Hogwarts Online Prompt 23rd September

Word Count: 887
Written for: the people who made me appreciate Ron (you know who you are).
Genre/s: Unfortunately FF doesn't have Fluff listed, so I suppose Friendship/General

A/N: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter not I. Also, this is my first time writing Ron (excluding roleplaying), so it may sound weird in some places, and just a note, I'm not a Romione shipper but I couldn't help but add the last bit.

All was quiet. Which would be perfect, for someone who loved the quiet; however, this was not the case for Ron Weasley.

Ron appreciated the quiet, revelled in it occasionally, but this was not "occasionally", and his patience was wearing thin.

For a reason he couldn't quite understand, Hermione was nowhere to be found.

He had checked everywhere (well, almost); the library, the great hall, the kitchens (he'd come out of there with his stomach stuffed, however unintentionally, that was what he told himself anyway), various corridors, the common room, even the bloody room of requirement!

In short he was quite baffled (and frustrated), but it never occurred to him that Hermione was at some other place very different from the "usual place."

Ron had been searching for what felt like half the day (but was in actuality only an hour and a half), when salvation came in the form of Neville Longbottom.

Neville was strolling, a difference from his typical bumbling (but then again the war had changed many, why would Neville be the exception?) The satisfied expression on his face turned into a bright smile at the sight of Ron.

"Oh hello Ron! I've just seen Hermione, she told me to tell you she's at the Quidditch Pitch, and, I don't quite understand this, but she said to tell you to have fun storming the castle as well."

If Ron was confused before, he was downright bewildered by what Neville said then.

The Quidditch Pitch? It was definitely a strange place for Hermione to be, but it explained why he hadn't been able to find her anywhere else, but Ron couldn't shake off one thing: the Quidditch Pitch? Neville was gone before Ron could voice his thoughts though.

The trip to the Quidditch Pitch had not been easy to say the least. People congratulating him for his "effort in the war" infuriated him, but he kept it down. No one needed an outburst from one of the golden trio, not when everyone's happiness was precariously balanced on the façade everyone else felt they needed to put up, that alone took almost half an hour, not that he was counting.

Then, there were his friends, Dean, Seamus and Parvati. Sometimes they wandered around, worrying, wandering and worrying, about their families, about themselves, about Lavender.

He hadn't really meant it, in sixth year, it had been exhilarating but there had been something missing and eventually he'd broken it off with her, but she was still his friend.

Sadly, she was also a glaring, living reminder that emotional scars were not the only ones inflicted by the battle, she was still considerably "pretty", but the left side of her face would remain forever disfigured.

Seeing her reminded him though, in a good way, reminded him that what he fought for was right, reminded him that "victory" came with a price, reminded him that no one was invincible, he never told her that though.

Once he was outside the castle and on to the grounds, Ron faced another problem.

Crups.

Ten, eleven, twelve, Ron wasn't really counting how many there were, he was more focused on the ferocious look every single one of them were sending his way.

Loyal to wizards my arse, thought Ron with just a bit of apprehension.

One step, two steps, three steps, four, Ron felt he was in a steady rhythm when, CRACK.

Ron wasted no time panicking on the spot; instead, he ran, ran like his life depended on it, ran towards the Quidditch Pitch, hoping against hope that Hermione was still there, hoping that the Crups had either refused to chase him or had stopped along the line.

Slightly out of breath Ron reluctantly stopped and looked behind him, to his immense relief the Crups could not be seen, his luck was improving.

Unfortunately, life was unhappy with contentment, contentment meant no particular excitement, and contentment was boring, luckily for life Ron wasn't content for very long.

Ron was slack jawed, and that was an understatement.

Hanging from a broom with only one hand on it was Hermione.

Immediately what he was going to do was clear in his mind, throwing all caution to the wind Ron muttered a quick Accio and boarded his broom without hesitation.

His moves weren't as flawless as Quidditch players were, but Ron had a good grip on flying and that showed as he nosedived almost the exact moment Hermione's grip on her broom loosened and she fell.

Time seemed to slow down, Ron doubted himself, but in the end, he managed to steer his broom in Hermione's path and heard a thud as she landed on the wood.

Extremely relieved and yet incredibly confused Ron landed on the soft grass of the Quidditch Pitch noting the glazed look on Hermione's face, mentally telling himself to "tread softly."

It was unnecessary however when the glazed look on Hermione's face turned into a wry smile.

"Hi Ron, how's your day been?"

Ron gave her a blithe smile in response, stood up and held out a hand for Hermione to take.

"You better have an explanation for this Hermione, have fun storming the castle?"

Hermione didn't respond, instead she took Ron's hand, and hoisted herself up.

Then she took off, leaving Ron dazed until he finally put it together.

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