Hermione yawned as she rubbed her eyes. A teetering stack of parchment stood in front of her, each one with lines of her neat handwriting spanning across the page. The Gryffindor common room was empty, save for her cat Crookshanks that often spent the nights with her as she toiled over her various subjects. Crumpled balls of parchment and empty inkbottles littered the tables around the common room. It was three in the morning.
Whew, she thought as she slid the sheaves of parchment into different files, this sure is tiring. I wonder if I can keep up. She opened her bag and placed the files beneath a thick rune dictionary for backing, and as she stood up, an ominous rip and a loud thud that could have well woken the entire Gryffindor tower startled her. Dread clawed at her stomach as she glanced down tentatively and groaned in exasperation as she beheld something that looked vaguely like her once-whole school bag sitting in a spreading pool of ink.
Dreading what she was going to see, she looked down tentatively and groaned in exasperation as she beheld something that looked vaguely like her once-whole school bag sitting in a spreading pool of ink. Pulling her wand from beneath her robes, she cleared up the mess and proceeded to salvage whatever she could from her ink-stained homework.
This looks more like something Ron would hand up, she thought to herself in disgust as she pulled a complicated number list from its transparent plastic folder. I spent the best part of the night working on this and this is what happens. I wonder if I'm putting too much effort in the things I do. Look at this, Hermione! Even if you want to copy this onto a new sheet of parchment, you won't be able to discern some of the words. The ink has seeped through. Hermione felt helpless and miserable as she pulled a new roll of parchment, an inkbottle and her quill towards her and began writing.
Half an hour later, her words were blurred and smudged by tears that were now falling in full force. Why? Why am I doing this to myself? Her mind nowhere near the task. He won't realize I'm here. He won't notice me even if I do top the level every year. He won't notice me even if I do let him copy my work albeit grudgingly. He won't All he'll do is say that I'm a know-it-all or whatever he calls me. He treats me as his best friend and nothing else.
"Hermione? Are you okay?" A voice rough with sleep yet heavy with concern issued from the doorway of the Boy's dormitory. Hermione hastily wiped away her tears.
"Ron! What are you doing here?" She queried squeakily her eyes on her work and heart pounding furiously.
"Crookshanks was staring at me and it was freaking me out so I'm kicking him out of my dorm," he chuckled as he released a firm grip on a ginger cat that scooted off under the armchair that was by the fire.
Why he's in a good mood. Usually he's really grumpy with Crookshanks, Hermione thought as she stared at the two green orbs that were looking at her from under the armchair.
"Hermione, are you crying?" Ron suddenly asked and Hermione, unnerved by the sudden question looked up, torn between lies and the truth. She decided to settle on lies.
"No, I'm not. Go back to bed."
"I don't believe you. Hey, what's wrong? You look dead tired. Keep this for tomorrow, it's Saturday! You can do the rest tomorrow. Harry and I need the company." He chuckled again as he started stacking Hermione's homework neatly into her bag.
Hermione felt herself go red. Since when was he so neat? And I suppose he's right. I'll do this tomorrow. She got up and started picking up stacks of parchment and stuffing them randomly into her bag. Hermione saw Ron raise an eyebrow but said nothing.
Suddenly, their hands met. They were both trying to pick up the same piece of parchment. Hermione felt herself blush beetroot and Ron's ears turned a fiery scarlet that almost blended in with his shockingly red hair. They both let go at the same time.
Oh no, oh no… Hermione, keep your cool. It's nothing, just a coincidence. Just a coincidence… Hermione repeated that to herself over and over as Ron surprised her by bending down and picking up the parchment and slipping it into her bag.
"Um, good night," he smiled and as he turned around, Hermione realised that his ears were still a vivid shade of scarlet.
"Hey, Ron! Thanks," she called as he vanished behind the pillar. She thought he heard her mutter a faint "No problem".
Hey, it was a start.
A/N: This is the second fic in the history of fics I've ever written and I haven't seen it in a year. It's unedited and presented in its raw form for critique. I hope you don't treat it to harshly (: