Disclaimer: I don't own anything, it's all JK. Please don't sue me, and even if you do all you'll get is $5.87.
Ron looked at himself in the mirror. He was just as gangly and freckly as ever, but he was determined not to let this stop him. Not this time. He was going to do this, even though Hermione had been sitting in the common room just last night writing a letter to Krum. Vicky Krum. Ron's expression turned stormy as he stared unseeingly into the mirror.
"If you would wipe that expression off your face then you would look quite charming!" His mirror snapped in an irritated voice. Ron turned away and walked down to the common room, muttering to himself about good-for-nothing- nineteen-year-olds-who-had-nothing-better-to-do-then-write-to-girls-that- were-bloody-four-years-younger.
He had already arranged everything with Harry, who had looked a bit surprised at first but had then agreed willingly to find someone else to go with. Now all he had to do was ask. Ha! Easier said than done.
Ron took the final steps to the common room from the boy's dormitory. Hermione was humming softly to herself while she knitted misshapen elf hats. The elf hats, he thought fondly, though better, still had a rather lumpy form and couldn't really count as clothes, in his honest opinion. For once, though, he kept his abnormally large mouth firmly shut. Harry had told him that Dobby was the true receiver of the hats, and however much Ron would enjoy actually winning one of their spats, now just wasn't the time. Firelight glimmered dully on Hermione's chestnut colored hair, which hung in a mess of frizzy curls down her back. He still couldn't get over the surprise he had felt when she had turned up at the Yule Ball with perfectly tamed hair, but he felt even more surprised to find that he liked it better this way.
"Hello Ron, what are you still doing up?" she asked, not looking up from her knitting. Harry had disappeared into the dormitory to "turn in early," although Ron suspected it was to give them some time alone and himself some time to think. He'd been doing an awfully large amount of thinking lately, which, Ron thought as he smiled to himself, was a new route for Harry.
"Couldn't sleep." He finally answered dismissively, walking shakily over to sit by her.
"Well, neither could I, I mean, how could I, with so many poor House Elves still working without wages! I can't quite understand how there are still so many, when I should have freed at least three quarters of the elves at Hogwarts! I think that somebody's rehiring them. Did you know—"
"Actually," Ron said, interrupting what was sure to be a long rant about elf rights. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."
"Is this about that Charms assignment on dizzying charms?" Hermione asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him. "Because that really shouldn't have been left until—"
"Well, you'll never know if you don't give me time to talk, will you?" Ron cut her off again. Hermione closed her mouth, quite a rarity. The problem was, now that he had a chance to pose his question, he wished that he'd let her continue talking so he had more time to think about what he was going to say.
"I was actually wondering if—"
"if-"
"if-"
He sighed. "I could borrow a quill tomorrow." He was never very good at lying, and he wasn't even capable of subtlety.
Hermione gave him a sharp and somewhat disappointed glance. "Let me get this straight. You come down to the common room at 1:00 in the morning, interrupt me in the middle of talking to you, and tell me you have to ask me something important. And this important question is, can you borrow a quill tomorrow?"
"Yep," he tried sounding nonchalant.
"Really?"
"Nope."
"Here, do you want to write it down?" Hermione summoned a piece of parchment and a quill from her book bag.
Ron, acting before he could think about what he was doing, scribbled. 'Do you want to go to Hogsmead?'
"Don't I always?" she asked after she had read it, smiling as though she knew something he didn't.
"Alone. With me," Ron choked out, looking at the floor.
Hermione's smile grew wider as she mumbled something under her breath that sounded like "finally", although he couldn't be sure.
"I'd love to." She said, looking him in the eye.
Ron sighed in relief as he stumbled back upstairs. He had made it through what was supposed to be the easy part, although it certainly hadn't seemed that easy to him.
A/N: I'm not redoing this story for my own good—review please! BTW, the messed up paragraphing isn't my fault, the computer does it. )o; Quick edit won't fix it.
Ron looked at himself in the mirror. He was just as gangly and freckly as ever, but he was determined not to let this stop him. Not this time. He was going to do this, even though Hermione had been sitting in the common room just last night writing a letter to Krum. Vicky Krum. Ron's expression turned stormy as he stared unseeingly into the mirror.
"If you would wipe that expression off your face then you would look quite charming!" His mirror snapped in an irritated voice. Ron turned away and walked down to the common room, muttering to himself about good-for-nothing- nineteen-year-olds-who-had-nothing-better-to-do-then-write-to-girls-that- were-bloody-four-years-younger.
He had already arranged everything with Harry, who had looked a bit surprised at first but had then agreed willingly to find someone else to go with. Now all he had to do was ask. Ha! Easier said than done.
Ron took the final steps to the common room from the boy's dormitory. Hermione was humming softly to herself while she knitted misshapen elf hats. The elf hats, he thought fondly, though better, still had a rather lumpy form and couldn't really count as clothes, in his honest opinion. For once, though, he kept his abnormally large mouth firmly shut. Harry had told him that Dobby was the true receiver of the hats, and however much Ron would enjoy actually winning one of their spats, now just wasn't the time. Firelight glimmered dully on Hermione's chestnut colored hair, which hung in a mess of frizzy curls down her back. He still couldn't get over the surprise he had felt when she had turned up at the Yule Ball with perfectly tamed hair, but he felt even more surprised to find that he liked it better this way.
"Hello Ron, what are you still doing up?" she asked, not looking up from her knitting. Harry had disappeared into the dormitory to "turn in early," although Ron suspected it was to give them some time alone and himself some time to think. He'd been doing an awfully large amount of thinking lately, which, Ron thought as he smiled to himself, was a new route for Harry.
"Couldn't sleep." He finally answered dismissively, walking shakily over to sit by her.
"Well, neither could I, I mean, how could I, with so many poor House Elves still working without wages! I can't quite understand how there are still so many, when I should have freed at least three quarters of the elves at Hogwarts! I think that somebody's rehiring them. Did you know—"
"Actually," Ron said, interrupting what was sure to be a long rant about elf rights. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."
"Is this about that Charms assignment on dizzying charms?" Hermione asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him. "Because that really shouldn't have been left until—"
"Well, you'll never know if you don't give me time to talk, will you?" Ron cut her off again. Hermione closed her mouth, quite a rarity. The problem was, now that he had a chance to pose his question, he wished that he'd let her continue talking so he had more time to think about what he was going to say.
"I was actually wondering if—"
"if-"
"if-"
He sighed. "I could borrow a quill tomorrow." He was never very good at lying, and he wasn't even capable of subtlety.
Hermione gave him a sharp and somewhat disappointed glance. "Let me get this straight. You come down to the common room at 1:00 in the morning, interrupt me in the middle of talking to you, and tell me you have to ask me something important. And this important question is, can you borrow a quill tomorrow?"
"Yep," he tried sounding nonchalant.
"Really?"
"Nope."
"Here, do you want to write it down?" Hermione summoned a piece of parchment and a quill from her book bag.
Ron, acting before he could think about what he was doing, scribbled. 'Do you want to go to Hogsmead?'
"Don't I always?" she asked after she had read it, smiling as though she knew something he didn't.
"Alone. With me," Ron choked out, looking at the floor.
Hermione's smile grew wider as she mumbled something under her breath that sounded like "finally", although he couldn't be sure.
"I'd love to." She said, looking him in the eye.
Ron sighed in relief as he stumbled back upstairs. He had made it through what was supposed to be the easy part, although it certainly hadn't seemed that easy to him.
A/N: I'm not redoing this story for my own good—review please! BTW, the messed up paragraphing isn't my fault, the computer does it. )o; Quick edit won't fix it.