Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Hermione tries to comfort Ron after a bad quidditch match
Rated: PG for a little bad language
Ships: R/H but not sickeningly so
You, Yes You
"Go away, there's not a bloody thing you can say to make me feel better," Ron called as he heard the door of the boy's corridor creek open. The door closed softly and footsteps pounded lightly across the wood floor ignoring his order. "Harry I'm serious, I don't want to- Hermione- But this is boy's corridor- your breaking a rule!"
"Shhh," Hermione hissed nervously looking around as if afraid McGonagall would pop out of Ron's trunk. Ron sat up replacing his shocked look with one of annoyance.
"I don't want to talk about the game," He said, referring to the quidditch match that had taken place earlier, as she hesitantly took a seat at the end of Ron's bed.
"Well, we don't have to then, but Ron, you've been in here for six hours, you skipped dinner," Hermione said sounding kind of concerned. Ron looked away sheepishly and mentally begging his stomach not to growl.
"I'm not hungry," He lied, rolling over so his back was to her.
"Ron," Hermione called annoyed. "I know this sounds insane to you right now, but quidditch isn't everything." He didn't move or say anything. "Ron come on," Hermione groaned scooting towards the top of his bed and touching his red shoulder, still clad in his quidditch uniform. He stayed stubbornly quiet. "You know your brothers wanted to come in to drag you out of here, I saved you from whatever new sweet they were going to cheer you up with.... But if you don't want to talk about it, I can always let them come in and have a try at cheering you up." Ron groaned and rolled over still avoiding Hermione's eyes.
"You don't understand," He mumbled in a low quiet voice.
"Then explain it to me," Hermione answered matching his volume. Ron hesitated propping himself up on his elbow.
"It's just..." He blew a strand of fiery hair out of his eyes. It landed right back where he had just tried to blow it from. Hermione reached out and brushed it aside catching Ron's eye for a second, he looked away quickly.
"Tell me," Hermione prodded.
"Everyone in my family is brilliant at quidditch, even Ginny, and then... There's me, and I try, and everyone says I'm alright but... If I hadn't let in that last goal, we would've won..." His voice dropped off into an angry one. "Sometimes I just wish I were just really, really great at SOMETHING."
"Your good at things," Hermione assured him wiping the same unruly strand out of his face again. Ron gave her a disbelieving look, "What about chess?"
"Oh I picked a great thing to be good at, a stupid game," Ron muttered cynically. Hermione made an indignant noise.
"Ron what do you think quidditch IS?" Ron gave her a strange look, "I mean, quidditch IS just a stupid game!" The strange look was now a glare.
"Mocking my favorite sport is not cheering me up," He informed her bluntly.
"You could be better in school if you'd just apply yourself-"
"Lecturing me about homework is not cheering me up either," Ron cut in sounding a bit annoyed.
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. "But really Ron, the game wasn't that bad..." Hermione said attempting to do a better job of comforting. It didn't seem to work by the indignant look Ron was now giving her.
"You really don't understand! I was awful! And not only that but the whole school watched me make an ass of m-"
"Ron!"
"Fine, a FOOL of myself, and when I was walking back people were whispering about me.... Laughing at me..."
"You think I don't understand how it feels to be whispered about and laughed at?" Hermione asked loudly.
"Well, frankly, no."
"Then I suppose you got hit in the head one too many times by bludgers," Ron gave her a blank look. "Don't you remember our first year?!? Hermione, The Nightmare, Granger? Little Miss Know-it-all? Any of this ring a bell!?!" She was yelling now and Ron had sat up and was now running his hands through his hair nervously.
"Sorry about that," He murmured sincerely, and a bit nervously. They were both quiet for a while. "But that's what I mean. I'm an idiot. Besides you were being mocked because your GOOD at so much, I'm getting it because I'm and idiot-"
"Your not an idiot Ron," Hermione broke in honestly putting her hand in his. He looked at there hands for a second.
"You still don't get it, I'm rubbish. I'm not good enough to be on the quidditch team, they probably only let me on because I'm Fred and George's little brother, I'm not good enough to get top marks in school, I'm not even a good friend... I'm not good enough for you."
Hermione was taken aback. Ron had always been insecure, she'd known this, but he'd always been too proud to mention it. Ron's words hit her harder then she would have ever thought words could. She felt indignant and pathetic and apologetic. It wasn't her fault, was it? And wasn't there any way she could have kept him from thinking this?
"Why are you crying?" Were the first words out of Ron's mouth, in a scared tone. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I don't even know what I said-"
"It's not your fault," Hermione whimpered trying to regain control of the situation. "It's just, how could you think that your not good enough-?"
"I don't mean that you and Harry are cocky bastards or anything, I mean, just that...." He trailed off looking up at the ceiling, "Look, I really don't want to be having this conversation."
"If this is how you feel then we DO need to have this conversation," Hermione argued wiping her eyes.
"Look, that's not how I feel, I just.... I was exaggerating everything's fine, just ignore me, I'm acting like an idiot-"
"Ron! That's exactly what I mean, you're not an idiot!" Hermione shouted, Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm serious," Hermione reached up and gripped his face in her hands forcing him to look her in the eye. "You're a wonderful, wonderful person," She whispered feeling suddenly strange, nervous, and yet totally comfortable. Ron was tense, and silent, staring right back, an unsure look on his face.
"You're going to get into a lot of trouble if they catch you in he-ere," He finally said in a very low rumbling voice that cracked into a high-pitch on the last word. He ducked his head out of her hands looking at his comforter as if it had just sprouted wings.
"Some things are more important then rules," Hermione answered determined not to let up, determined to make her point. Ron looked at her, shocked.
"What could YOU possibly think is more important then rules?" He asked as if it were a big joke.
"You," Hermione answered sincerely, he shook his head, "Yes you," Hermione insisted.
"I'm not important to anyone or anything," He mumbled.
"Your important to me," Ron looked unconvinced, "Without you who would tell off Malfoy for calling me foul names?"
"I thought you hated it when I did that," Ron pointed out. Hermione blushed.
"Well, it's not practical, but it is a bit, er...Sweet," Ron turned a bit pink and returned his eyes to his comforter.
"You probably really think I'm pathetic now whining about all this," He muttered to the blanket.
"I don't think you're pathetic.... I love you... I mean we both do, Harry and I, and loads of other people do too," Hermione said the last bit very quickly the color in her cheeks rising from a bit pink to scarlet. And then suddenly her hands were enclosed in Ron's and she could feel him staring at her. She looked up slowly, afraid to give herself away and not knowing WHAT she was afraid to give away. Her eyes locked with his blue ones nervously.
"Me?" He asked slowly.
"You, yes you," Hermione answered sincerely.
~end
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
Please review if you liked this and even more so if you disliked it, and also, check out my other fics!
Summary: Hermione tries to comfort Ron after a bad quidditch match
Rated: PG for a little bad language
Ships: R/H but not sickeningly so
You, Yes You
"Go away, there's not a bloody thing you can say to make me feel better," Ron called as he heard the door of the boy's corridor creek open. The door closed softly and footsteps pounded lightly across the wood floor ignoring his order. "Harry I'm serious, I don't want to- Hermione- But this is boy's corridor- your breaking a rule!"
"Shhh," Hermione hissed nervously looking around as if afraid McGonagall would pop out of Ron's trunk. Ron sat up replacing his shocked look with one of annoyance.
"I don't want to talk about the game," He said, referring to the quidditch match that had taken place earlier, as she hesitantly took a seat at the end of Ron's bed.
"Well, we don't have to then, but Ron, you've been in here for six hours, you skipped dinner," Hermione said sounding kind of concerned. Ron looked away sheepishly and mentally begging his stomach not to growl.
"I'm not hungry," He lied, rolling over so his back was to her.
"Ron," Hermione called annoyed. "I know this sounds insane to you right now, but quidditch isn't everything." He didn't move or say anything. "Ron come on," Hermione groaned scooting towards the top of his bed and touching his red shoulder, still clad in his quidditch uniform. He stayed stubbornly quiet. "You know your brothers wanted to come in to drag you out of here, I saved you from whatever new sweet they were going to cheer you up with.... But if you don't want to talk about it, I can always let them come in and have a try at cheering you up." Ron groaned and rolled over still avoiding Hermione's eyes.
"You don't understand," He mumbled in a low quiet voice.
"Then explain it to me," Hermione answered matching his volume. Ron hesitated propping himself up on his elbow.
"It's just..." He blew a strand of fiery hair out of his eyes. It landed right back where he had just tried to blow it from. Hermione reached out and brushed it aside catching Ron's eye for a second, he looked away quickly.
"Tell me," Hermione prodded.
"Everyone in my family is brilliant at quidditch, even Ginny, and then... There's me, and I try, and everyone says I'm alright but... If I hadn't let in that last goal, we would've won..." His voice dropped off into an angry one. "Sometimes I just wish I were just really, really great at SOMETHING."
"Your good at things," Hermione assured him wiping the same unruly strand out of his face again. Ron gave her a disbelieving look, "What about chess?"
"Oh I picked a great thing to be good at, a stupid game," Ron muttered cynically. Hermione made an indignant noise.
"Ron what do you think quidditch IS?" Ron gave her a strange look, "I mean, quidditch IS just a stupid game!" The strange look was now a glare.
"Mocking my favorite sport is not cheering me up," He informed her bluntly.
"You could be better in school if you'd just apply yourself-"
"Lecturing me about homework is not cheering me up either," Ron cut in sounding a bit annoyed.
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. "But really Ron, the game wasn't that bad..." Hermione said attempting to do a better job of comforting. It didn't seem to work by the indignant look Ron was now giving her.
"You really don't understand! I was awful! And not only that but the whole school watched me make an ass of m-"
"Ron!"
"Fine, a FOOL of myself, and when I was walking back people were whispering about me.... Laughing at me..."
"You think I don't understand how it feels to be whispered about and laughed at?" Hermione asked loudly.
"Well, frankly, no."
"Then I suppose you got hit in the head one too many times by bludgers," Ron gave her a blank look. "Don't you remember our first year?!? Hermione, The Nightmare, Granger? Little Miss Know-it-all? Any of this ring a bell!?!" She was yelling now and Ron had sat up and was now running his hands through his hair nervously.
"Sorry about that," He murmured sincerely, and a bit nervously. They were both quiet for a while. "But that's what I mean. I'm an idiot. Besides you were being mocked because your GOOD at so much, I'm getting it because I'm and idiot-"
"Your not an idiot Ron," Hermione broke in honestly putting her hand in his. He looked at there hands for a second.
"You still don't get it, I'm rubbish. I'm not good enough to be on the quidditch team, they probably only let me on because I'm Fred and George's little brother, I'm not good enough to get top marks in school, I'm not even a good friend... I'm not good enough for you."
Hermione was taken aback. Ron had always been insecure, she'd known this, but he'd always been too proud to mention it. Ron's words hit her harder then she would have ever thought words could. She felt indignant and pathetic and apologetic. It wasn't her fault, was it? And wasn't there any way she could have kept him from thinking this?
"Why are you crying?" Were the first words out of Ron's mouth, in a scared tone. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I don't even know what I said-"
"It's not your fault," Hermione whimpered trying to regain control of the situation. "It's just, how could you think that your not good enough-?"
"I don't mean that you and Harry are cocky bastards or anything, I mean, just that...." He trailed off looking up at the ceiling, "Look, I really don't want to be having this conversation."
"If this is how you feel then we DO need to have this conversation," Hermione argued wiping her eyes.
"Look, that's not how I feel, I just.... I was exaggerating everything's fine, just ignore me, I'm acting like an idiot-"
"Ron! That's exactly what I mean, you're not an idiot!" Hermione shouted, Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm serious," Hermione reached up and gripped his face in her hands forcing him to look her in the eye. "You're a wonderful, wonderful person," She whispered feeling suddenly strange, nervous, and yet totally comfortable. Ron was tense, and silent, staring right back, an unsure look on his face.
"You're going to get into a lot of trouble if they catch you in he-ere," He finally said in a very low rumbling voice that cracked into a high-pitch on the last word. He ducked his head out of her hands looking at his comforter as if it had just sprouted wings.
"Some things are more important then rules," Hermione answered determined not to let up, determined to make her point. Ron looked at her, shocked.
"What could YOU possibly think is more important then rules?" He asked as if it were a big joke.
"You," Hermione answered sincerely, he shook his head, "Yes you," Hermione insisted.
"I'm not important to anyone or anything," He mumbled.
"Your important to me," Ron looked unconvinced, "Without you who would tell off Malfoy for calling me foul names?"
"I thought you hated it when I did that," Ron pointed out. Hermione blushed.
"Well, it's not practical, but it is a bit, er...Sweet," Ron turned a bit pink and returned his eyes to his comforter.
"You probably really think I'm pathetic now whining about all this," He muttered to the blanket.
"I don't think you're pathetic.... I love you... I mean we both do, Harry and I, and loads of other people do too," Hermione said the last bit very quickly the color in her cheeks rising from a bit pink to scarlet. And then suddenly her hands were enclosed in Ron's and she could feel him staring at her. She looked up slowly, afraid to give herself away and not knowing WHAT she was afraid to give away. Her eyes locked with his blue ones nervously.
"Me?" He asked slowly.
"You, yes you," Hermione answered sincerely.
~end
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
~
Please review if you liked this and even more so if you disliked it, and also, check out my other fics!