AUGUST
Aug 1st
Got our Hogwarts letters today - Harry's been made Quidditch Captain, which is pretty cool. At least, it will be if they allow me back on the team. I did sort of hope when I got on the team last year that it would make me more fanciable, but it obviously hasn't. Maybe that only works when you aren't the worst Keeper ever in the history of the world. If I was any worse I might as well be playing for the other side. Or the Cannons. I've supported them for ever and they've never won anything, but last season they played so badly they're now languishing third from bottom in the League, which is really embarrassing. Hermione once asked me in all seriousness why I support a team who never win anything. She doesn't get it, that's the whole point, you don't just start supporting them because they win trophies! I wouldn't stop fancying her if she stopped coming top of the class in all her lessons. I suppose for someone like Hermione, who's brilliant at everything, the idea of supporting a bunch of losers must seem like a waste of time. Whereas for me, who never does particularly well in anything, being a Cannons fan pretty much sums up the rest of my life. One long series of failures and disappointments!
Aug 2nd
Ways Not To Impress A Girl:
1) Be me.
2) Chuck peas at her.
We were all just downstairs having dinner in the kitchen and Ginny asked me to pass the peas, but I wasn't really paying attention, I was just staring at Hermione as usual. So I didn't hear Mum tell me to be careful because the bowl was hot, and I dropped it, and all the peas spilled across the table and landed in her dinner, in her lap, and - spectacularly - down her top. Oh, my God!
Mum shouted at me ("What did I just say? Why don't you ever listen?"), Harry cheered and burst out laughing and Ginny did a slow hand-clap and said, "Ron, you idiot, look what you've done now!" I just went seven different shades of red and wanted the ground to swallow me up. I said I was sorry about a hundred times, but I felt like such a tool. She went out to the sink with Mum to clean herself up, and I could hear Mum apologising on my behalf ("Sorry dear, you know what he's like, he doesn't pay attention") and Hermione laughing and saying, "There are peas in my bra! How did peas get in my bra?"
Of all the places! It's almost like I did it on purpose! She was alright about it when she came back though, she just laughed and said, "At least it wasn't the gravy!" I came straight up to my room after dinner, I couldn't face any more of Harry and Ginny's jokes abou-
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Hermione just knocked on my door. I had to quickly hide this under the bedcovers and pretend to be reading a comic instead. It's a good thing my room's so small and my arms are so long, I didn't even have to get off the bed to reach it. She said, "Honestly, it's only peas, don't worry about it. Come back downstairs. I'll let you beat me at chess again." I said I might do later. I won't, though. I don't think I could sit opposite her for the whole night without thinking about those bloody peas and where they've been. Where I'm never going to get, the way I'm go- Hang on, what does she mean, let me beat her at chess? Right, I'm not having that!
Totally thrashed her, 3-0. Ha!
Aug 3rd
Went into Diagon Alley today to get our new school things and see Fred and George's shop - which was fantastic by the way, even if they wouldn't let me have any freebies, the gits. Anyway, guess which stuck-up ferret-faced little tosser we bumped into in Madame Malkin's? Yep, Draco Malfoy, with his equally ferret-faced mum, acting like they owned the place as usual. We saw him later on, he'd obviously managed to give Mummy the slip, because he was heading for Knockturn Alley with a shifty expression on his face. We followed him under Harry's invisibility cloak and saw him go into Borgin & Burke's, but even with the Extendable Ears, we couldn't figure out what he was up to. Something ferrety, I bet. I reckon he was just showing off, trying to make out he's best mates with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and not just a nasty little creep who thinks he's better than everybody else. Someone really needs to bring him down a peg or two. Or ten. I'd be happy to volunteer for the job. He deliberately barged into me and stood on my foot as hard as he could when he left as well.
-----
It's not even that anymore that I care about, I'm used to it by now. If I had a Galleon for every time Malfoy had said something nasty about me I'd have enough money to buy Devon and turn it into a giant Quidditch pitch. It's getting boring, to be honest. Anyway, he can say what he likes, I don't care, because now I've got the best comeback ever. Yeah, yeah, my family's got no money, but your dad's in prison, you lose, haha!!
-----
No, I don't care what he says about me anymore. It's all the things he says about her that make me want to string him up by his ankles and torture him with sharp objects 'til he begs for death. I mean it too, I'm not even joking. If you could see the look on her face when he says these things, you'd want to hurt him too. She pretends she doesn't mind, but she does, I know she does. She shouldn't have to put up with it. Five years is long enough. It's only a matter of time before I lose it and smack him one.
-----
I did hit him once before, actually. It was the first term of first year, during a Quidditch match. The usual: he wound me up on purpose and I just lost it. It was quite a good scrap though. He had Crabbe and Goyle on his side - I don't know what I was thinking taking on all three of them - and then Neville piled in to help me out, bless him, so it ended up being a real hair pulling, fingers up the nose, arm biting, knee in the groin, kick in the shins, bending back the fingers kind of fight. I think all five of us had black eyes for about a week afterwards. It was great!
-----
Anyway, pretty soon after that I realised that if I was going to go off on one every time Malfoy said something about me or my family I was going to be expelled, which I'm sure was exactly what he intended in the first place, so I moved on to sarcasm and swearing. That's where swearing really comes into its own, dealing with someone like him. Hermione's really missing a trick with that one. Sorry, Hermione, it is big and it is clever!
-----
But now I think the time has come for something a bit more, er, physical. I'm not usually violent, but Malfoy would test anyone's patience. Seamus sometimes says, as a joke when he gets in an argument, "I'm a lover, not a fighter!" Well, I'm not either of those. The first one is pretty obvious. Ginger plus idiot plus loser equals no girls. You don't need an O in Arithmancy to work that one out. The second one - well, when you've got five older - and more importantly, bigger - brothers you're onto a losing battle from the start. Although when I was about ten I suddenly shot up about a foot in the space of six months, and that definitely helped. I didn't get pushed into quite so many puddles after that. Still got pushed into a few though, but that's just because I'm a mouthy sod and was probably asking for it.
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It's that thing of being in a situation that could turn into a fight, depending on how you handle it, and my way of handling it - taking the piss and making their friends laugh - is really asking for trouble. But this is definitely one of those times when sarcasm just won't do. I've tried sarcasm, I've tried swearing, I've tried hexing him with a backfiring slug spell, but he's still the same annoying wanker he's always been. She definitely can't say I haven't tried. A good hard punch in the face, that's what he needs. In fact, that's gonna be my plan for the year:
1. Punch Malfoy.
2. Try not to fail everything.
3. Oh, you know, something to do with Hermione. Which is pointless, I mean, nothing's ever gonna happen there, so what's the point even trying?
-----
Now I'm depressed.
-----
1. Punch Malfoy.
2. Try not to fail everything.
3. Oh, punch Malfoy again. Just because he deserves it.
Heh heh. I feel better already!
Aug 4th
Just came up here to escape Mum. She wanted to talk my ear off about my "future" again. Anyway, she starts off with "Your father and I are so proud", which makes me instantly suspicious, then launches straight into, "So have you thought any more about what you want to do when you leave school?" Yeah, Mum, since the last time you asked me ten days ago I've thought about nothing else. No, of course I haven't! It's the frigging holidays! So I just lie...
ME: "Yeah, sort of. A bit."
MUM: "I thought you were going to speak to your father about it. Or Bill. Bill would be a good person to ask."
ME, deadpan: "I thought I might ask Fred and George, actually."
MUM, suspiciously: "Fred and George? Why would you want to speak to them about it?"
ME: "Well, they're making loads of money and they only got a couple of OWLs each, so they must be doing something right."
MUM, sharply: "Money isn't everything, you know."
ME, under my breath: "Yeah, well, whoever said that had obviously never been poor..."
MUM: "Ron!"
ME: "Sorry."
MUM, shaking her head and sighing: "Anyway, Fred and George have turned out to have quite the heads for business. But they were lucky, don't you go thinking you can drop out before you finish school and things will be alright, because they won't. You need to stop messing around and knuckle down and do some serious studying this year, then you'll have a lot more choice in what you want to do when you leave."
ME: "I've just finished doing some serious studying! Can't I at least have a few weeks off before I have to start again?"
MUM: "I'm not saying read all the course books before term starts like Hermione does - although it wouldn't hurt - I'm just saying, you don't need any more distractions this year. It'll go more quickly than you think, you know. Before you know it it'll be next year and it'll be too late. Some people are lucky, they can just turn up to the exam and get straight O's. You can't."
ME: "Great, thanks for the support."
MUM: "I'm not having a go at you, I'm just saying. I know what you're like, you get too easily distracted and you leave everything to the last minute. It's never too early to start thinking about your future, you know. Why don't you talk to your dad about it? He could give you some advice on applying for jobs at the Ministry and what exams you'll need."
ME: "Yeah, mum, I'm sure they'll be queuing up to offer me jobs at the Ministry."
MUM: "Don't be sarcastic. And don't put yourself down either, you got seven OWLs, remember?"
Ooh, seven OWLs! Like I'm the only person in the whole school who's got seven OWLs! Honestly, parents have got no clue. Hermione got, what was it, eleven? Ten Outstandings and a slightly-less-than-outstanding in Potions, but that's only because it was Snape marking the exam and he's a git. Anyone else she'd have got eleven straight O's. Now she could do anything she wants. She's like Bill, she could just turn up for the exams having done no revision at all and breeze through the lot of 'em. Whereas I could stay in every night from now 'til the exam revising my arse off and I'd still be lucky to scrape an Acceptable. Especially if Hermione's sitting at the desk just across the aisle from me like she was in my History of Magic exam. She kicked her shoes off five minutes in and I spent the next three hours trying to remember the dates of the Goblin Rebellions and trying not to look at her legs. It was a really hot afternoon too, which didn't help. I'm not surprised Harry fainted, I thought I might keel over myself at one point. No wonder I failed. Hmm, I really can't think why Mum thinks I'm easily distracted!
Aug 5th
Really good day today. She wanted to go down to the village to post a letter to her Aunt, so I said I'd go with her. It was a nice afternoon when we started out but then it started raining, and by the time we'd got too far away from the house to turn back, it was absolutely pissing down. We got completely soaked. It was one of those times it's actually quite handy that my trousers are a couple of inches too short for me 'cos at least then they don't drag in puddles! Anyway, she posted her letter and then suggested we go to the Olde Ottery Tea Rooms to get out of the rain. I didn't have any Muggle money but she said she thought she could stretch to buying me a cup of tea, and then when I started to argue about it she gave me one of her withering looks. I started laughing because she looked so fed up - hair plastered to her forehead, rain dripping down her neck - and she started laughing as well, and pretended to bat some of the rain towards me. Like I could get any wetter. It was raining so hard I could hardly blink fast enough to keep the rain out of my eyes.
Me, giving up: "Alright, but I'll pay you back."
Her: "Fine, can we just go inside before we drown, please?"
So we ran over and burst in, all dripping and laughing and out of breath, and I tried to show her just how wet I was by wringing out the corner of my t-shirt on the floor:
"Look! You could freeze me and use me as an ice lolly!"
She nudged me and whispered, "Ron, don't!" and I looked up and realised that all these old ladies were sitting there looking completely horrified, like we were escaped murderers or something. Which just made us laugh even more.
Hermione put on her poshest voice and said, "We're terribly sorry!", so I did too: "Yes, we're really most awfully sorry!" and then we carried on talking in the silly voices for ages because it was so funny. Actually, I'm surprised we didn't get thrown out, because we could hardly stop laughing the whole time were in there and all the old ladies kept tsk-ing at us.
-----
Anyway, the waitress came over to take our order and we kept trying to put each other off, kicking each other under the table and stuff, it was really funny. At one point I was trying so hard not to laugh I started having a coughing fit. She gave me this really hard stare so I put on my best serious face and told her, "Sorry, I've got black lung." Hermione actually snorted out loud at that, then she pretended to start coughing too and said, "Oh God, now I've got it! You didn't tell me it was contagious!" and the woman looked really alarmed and practically backed away from the table. You should have seen her face, it was hilarious! I got a stitch, I laughed so much.
-----
We stayed there for the rest of the afternoon until Hermione realised we'd been gone three hours and should probably get going because my mum might start to worry. I said, "No she won't, she knows I'm with you. 'Oh, it's alright, at least Hermione's sensible!'"
She was appalled at that: "Why do I always have to be the sensible one?"
I pointed out that that's how it works: "I'm stupid, you're sensible."
She said, "You're not stupid. And maybe one of these days I'll do something thoroughly un-sensible and really surprise you!"
I said, "Oh, yeah? Like what?"
She said, "Wait and see!"
I said, "What, are you going to only do your homework a week before it's due in rather than two weeks?"
She told me to shut up, Ronald, but I could tell she didn't really mean it because she was smiling when she said it. And then the woman came over and told us the café was about to close, so we had to pay up and go. Just as we were leaving Hermione said loudly, "This weather won't have done your black lung any good!" I said, "Yeah, and me with only three weeks to live already. Still, it was worth it for those delicious cakes!" She said, pushing me towards the door, "Well, I suppose we'd better get you back to the sanatorium!" I pretended to have another nasty coughing fit and we legged it outside and round the corner and then totally cracked up, it was brilliant!
-----
I got an earful from Mum when we got in for not leaving a note, but she said, and this was hilarious, "Oh well, I suppose you were with Hermione, at least one of you's sensible!" I laughed like anything at that, but Hermione looked really pissed off. She slapped my arm and said, "I'm not sensible! Oh, shut up!"
Later on I was telling Harry and Ginny about it and when I got to her saying, "I'm not sensible!" Ginny said, "Well, he's got a point, Hermione. You are sensible, and Ron is stupid, there's no getting round that one!" Harry said, "Yeah, that's just how it works." I said, "See? I told you!" She said, "You're not stupid, you just… do stupid things sometimes…" Harry and Ginny both laughed at that one. Ginny said, "Nice try, Hermione!" I told her, "Maybe one of these days I'll do something sensible and really surprise you!" and she laughed and said she'd look forward to it.
-----
Of course, I was just winding her up really. She's not quite as sensible as people think. I've known her long enough to know that. But compared to me she is. 'Cos I'm definitely as stupid as people think! I bet if you asked people to sum me up in five words "stupid" would be in there, along with ginger, and lanky, and funny. And, I dunno, probably stupid again. It'd be in there twice, that's how stupid I am! I mean, I can be sensible occasionally - shut up, I can! - and she can be stupid, putting on silly voices in cafes and stuff. She already does surprise me on a pretty regular basis. It's one of the reasons I like her so much. I don't suppose I ever surprise her. Not in a good way, anyway. Maybe in an annoying, "Don't do that!" kind of way. I'm just predictably stupid all the time.
She's smart and sensible, Ginny's popular and pretty, Harry's famous and I'm - well, I'm the stupid one. Always have been, always will be. Sometimes it bothers me but most of the time I think, well, I am stupid, and I'm not going to suddenly wake up one morning and find I've turned into a genius, so what's the point worrying about it? Maybe if I was smarter, I'd be less funny. It's the price I pay!
Aug 6th
Haha, I just went downstairs to make myself a cup of tea because I couldn't sleep, and heard Fleur sneaking out of Bill's bedroom!! Lots of whispering in French followed by kissy-slurpy noises, not the kind of thing you really want to hear before breakfast. Urgh. Still, well played, Bill! Mum would go berserk if she knew. Harry says that a lot of Muggles live together without getting married and no-one thinks anything of it, but in the wizarding world and especially in our house that kind of thing is still pretty much disapproved of. I bet you anything you like Fleur stayed over at Bill's place all the time when they lived in London, but Mum still insists on them sleeping in separate rooms when they're here. "Coming back here with your London ways, I won't have it! Not under my roof!"
Anything he does she doesn't approve of she blames on his "London ways" - like it's the town's fault for corrupting her poor innocent boy, and he doesn't have any say in it. Grew his hair long? London ways! Started wearing black all the time? Got his ear pierced? Shacked up with a French bird? Definitely London ways! Poor Bill. I mean, they're engaged, for Christ's sake. And he'll be 27, does she seriously think he'd wait 'til he was twenty fucking seven before doing the deed? If I had to wait that long, I'd kill myself. That's why so many witches and wizards get married young, I reckon - it's not romantic, it's just the only way you can get any action!
Aug 7th
Got up to my room tonight and found that someone - hmm, I wonder who that might have been? - had left a Ministry careers leaflet on my bed. "So You Want To Work For The Ministry Of Magic?" NO! No, I don't want to work for the Ministry of bleedin' Magic. How many times, woman? She obviously thinks there's no way anyone would actually employ me unless Dad put in a good word for me first. Listen to this: "There are jobs for everyone at the Ministry, whatever their interests and qualifications." Wow, even for thickos like me? I'm impressed! In fact, after reading this leaflet you brought me I've changed my mind, I do want to spend my life toadying up to the Minister and pretending I give a shit about cauldron thickness regulations after all. Thanks, Mum!
Aug 8th
Really funny today. We were playing two-a-side Quidditch in the field, me and Ginny against Harry and Hermione. She's absolutely terrible at Quidditch, so we were really trouncing them, especially as every time she aimed for the goal she shouted "Ron!" first. It was hilarious, Harry was nearly tearing his hair out, he kept yelling, "Don't tell him you're trying to score!"
Anyway, we were about twenty points up when mum came out to tell us that tea was ready, so we all stopped playing. Harry shouted, "That's half-time, we'll beat you afterwards!" Meanwhile she'd aimed for the goal again, hadn't warned me she was going to do it this time - cheers, Harry - so I only got as far as saying, "Yeah, in your dreaaAARGHH!!" before the ball hit me smack in the head and almost knocked me off my broom.
Honestly, if she'd been aiming for my head, she couldn't have done a better job. I joked, "Is this revenge for the peas?", but she didn't laugh. She was more upset about it than I was, actually; she didn't stop apologising all evening. It was great, I just lay on the sofa with my feet up while she brought me cold drinks and asked if it still hurt. Ginny finally snapped and accused me of "milking it". Okay, maybe I was milking it just a little bit. I was quite enjoying the attention, to be honest. Being waited on by Hermione. I mean, I've had dreams like that. Although usually they haven't involved me having a head injury.
Aug 9th
Ways Not To Impress A Girl 2: Bring up old arguments even though you promised yourself you'd never mention it again because you always come off really badly…
And I tried, I really did. I was quite happy, lying on the sofa in the front room, reading the new Daily Prophet and eating a cheese sandwich, and suddenly there he was, scowling at me from the back page. Viktor Krum. European Quidditch Player of The Year. Bastard. I'd really hoped never to have to see his ugly mug again, particularly in person, but in print's bad enough. European Quidditch Player of The Year! Kind of puts us winning the House Cup into perspective, doesn't it? So I'm sitting there staring at this picture, just wondering whether it would be best improved by drawing on horns or a moustache, when with perfect timing, Hermione walks in. I try to stuff the paper down the back of the sofa but it's too late, she's seen it:
"Oh, is that the new Prophet? Can I have a look?"
"No, it's yesterday's."
"Well, that's alright, can I have a look anyway?"
I hesitate for just long enough for her to get suspicious. Her smile fades. "What?"
"Nothing."
"Has something happened?"
Me: "Just leave it."
"Ron, you're scaring me now."
She grabs the paper from my hands. I just can't stop myself. "Your boyfriend's in it."
She freezes. "Viktor?"
"How many other boyfriends have you got?"
"I haven't got any, in case you hadn't noticed."
"Oh, yeah, that's right, you're just penpals…"
This comes out a lot more angrily than I'd intended. We stare at each other. I can feel my face burning up. She just looks at me like I'm something she's stepped in. She says quietly, "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," throws the paper back in my face and sweeps from the room with her head in the air. Why did I say that? And why can't I just learn to keep my stupid mouth shut?
-----
Later:
Aaargh!! Just had a huge row with Mum, why can't she leave me alone? I was already pissed off because of the Krum thing, so I really wasn't in the mood for another lecture, but did that stop her? Did it hell. She came up behind me when I was doing the washing up and said, like she'd only just thought of it and it wasn't the entire reason she'd come into the room, "Oh! Ron! I've been meaning to ask… did you get a chance to have a look at that leaflet at all?"
ME: "What leaflet would that be, then?"
HER: "Don't be cheeky, you know perfectly well what leaflet."
ME, gearing up for an argument: "I had a look, yeah."
HER: "Well?"
ME: "Well, what?"
HER: "There's no need to speak to me in that tone of voice, young man, I'm doing this for your own good, you know."
ME, without thinking: "That'll be a first."
Horrible silence. I realise immediately that I've gone too far.
Mum's voice goes up a couple of octaves. "How dare you accuse me of not caring about you?"
ME: "That's not what I -"
HER, not even listening: "Well, if you don't care about your own future, I don't know why I should bother. I mean, I ask you to do one tiny thing, read one tiny leaflet –"
ME: "I read the sodding leaflet!"
HER: "- but oh no, apparently that's too much bother for you, you're far too busy gallivanting off down to the village when I expressly told you not to -"
ME: "That was once!"
HER, shouting over the top of me: "Until you are of age, and as long as you are living under my roof you will live by my rules, do you hear me? I can't tell Hermione what to do but I can tell you, and it is not safe for an underage witch and wizard to go wandering off -"
ME: "It was ONCE!"
HER, not stopping for breath: "- on their own with the way things are! I thought you might be grown-up enough to appreciate that fact, especially after what happened to you at the Ministry, but apparently not! Apparently you seem to think you can do whatever you like without any thought to the consequences!"
ME: "I don't have to listen to this…"
I stalk out of the room and slam the door as hard as I can behind me, and three seconds later she wrenches it open and yells, "Don't you slam the door on me, Ronald Weasley!", but it's too late, I'm already halfway up the stairs.
-----
What is it with women? You start off thinking you're arguing about one thing and then it turns out you're actually arguing about something else entirely. Aaargh!! And she already had a go at me about going down the village, I mean, it was once, for Christ's sake! Once! It's totally unfair. What does she think, that Death Eaters are going to jump me in the Olde Ottery Tea Rooms? I'd like to see them try. Although actually, when we went, I didn't have my wand with me, so I couldn't have done anything anyway. I don't think Hermione did either. But that's not the point! I said I was sorry about a million times, what does she want, blood? She never listens! I mean, she must be able to tell I don't want to work at the Ministry, but she seems to think that if she just keeps on and on at me I'll change my mind. Which I won't. I've half a mind to tell her I want to be an Accountant like her cousin Alan who we're not allowed to talk about. That'd show her. Stupid cow.
Aug 10th
Really hot today. Harry wanted to play Quidditch but it was so hot we only managed about half an hour before we had to give up. Well, I had to give up. Harry said my face was so red he thought we'd better stop before I had a heart attack. We went and joined the girls sunbathing under the apple tree. Well, me and Ginny under the tree, anyway. Weasleys don't sunbathe, we hide. I really wished I'd gone and got changed first though 'cos Ginny said really loudly, "Urgh, Ron, you're all sweaty and disgusting, don't come and sit near me!"
Yeah, thanks for drawing that fact to Hermione's attention. I'm doing a good enough job of making myself look stupid in front of her without the rest of my family joining in as well, thanks. I kept my arms firmly clamped to my sides for the rest of the afternoon after that. We all took our shoes and socks off and it was nice just lying there in the shade feeling the grass between my toes. I even rolled my trousers up, leading Ginny to make a hilarious joke about needing sunglasses to shield her eyes from the bright white glare of my pasty legs, ha ha.
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It was weird lying there with Hermione though. I'd never seen her from that angle before and I couldn't help noticing the way when she's lying down her, ah, chests rise and fall with her breathing and wobble when she laughs. Oh my God. Made me feel a bit light-headed, and I don't think it was just because the sun was in my eyes the whole time. I had to, um, bend my knees up and make myself look away from her. I was starting to get a bit of a headache as well. It's not the best idea to play Quidditch - especially one-a-side Quidditch - when it's thirty degrees outside. You'd think I'd have learned that by now, wouldn't you? Anyway, I must have dozed off for an hour, because when I woke up again they were all laughing at me, and I saw that they'd covered my entire body with grass clippings. I would have chucked some of it over them but I didn't have the energy, so I just lay there and shut my eyes and fell asleep again.
-----
I think I caught the sun a bit actually, because my face, neck and arms have gone all pink and itchy. I still feel hot now, like the heat's trapped inside me or something. It's too hot to sleep again. The window's wide open but there's no breeze so that's not helping. Maybe I'll go down to the bathroom and run my wrists under the cold tap for ten minutes. Hermione told me about that one. Something to do with that's where your veins are closest to the surface of your skin, so if you run cold water over your wrists, it cools the blood flowing around your body.
But she also told me that if you get up in the middle of the night and put the light on, it's much harder to get back to sleep again because your brain thinks it's morning and sends signals to your body telling you to wake up. She knows lots of useful stuff like that. Lots of boring stuff too, ha ha. Oh, just lots of stuff. I bet you could ask her any question about anything in the universe and she'd know the answer to it. Hey, Hermione, who won the Quidditch World Cup Final in 1954? Well, OK, maybe not that...
(By the way, the answer's Hungary. They beat France 240-210 despite playing the last half hour with only six men after Ferenc Laszlo got sent off. If only there were exams in this shit!)
Aug 11th
Are they taking it in turns to give me lectures or what? So, tonight, Dad knocks on my door about half eleven and comes and sits on the end of my bed and says, in his best serious voice, "We need to have a little chat."
Me: "I don't want to work at the bloody Ministry!"
Dad, looking a bit confused: "Um… okay… this isn't actually about that."
Me: "Oh God, what I have done now?"
Dad: "Well, I hope - nothing. That's, er, actually what I wanted to talk to you about." Long pause. He clears his throat. "So, er, you know that girls are different from boys-"
I burst out laughing. "Oh, my God, is this the talk?"
We stare at each other. I can feel my face getting hot. He's gone bright red as well. It's hard to tell who's more embarrassed, to be honest. He clears his throat again. "You know about the talk?"
"Yeah, Fred and George told me about it ages ago."
He shakes his head and sighs. "Six sons and this never gets any easier..."
I say, trying to make him feel better, "Well, at least this is the last time you'll have to do it. Mum can do Ginny's."
Him: "Oh, no, your mother did Ginny's talk last year."
Me, appalled: "But she's younger than me!"
Him, looking embarrassed, "Yes, but she's already started going out with boys. Who was that boy she went out with last year, Mark something…"
"Michael Corner. He was a loser."
"Anyway, the point is, I was supposed to do this last Christmas but with one thing and another…"
"Getting bitten by a bloody great snake..."
"Yes. Anyway, I'm sorry if I've left it a bit late. It's not too late, is it?"
Me, horrified: "No!"
Him, struggling not to smile, "Well, I'm very glad to hear it!"
Long pause while I wait for him to get on with it and he fiddles with his watch: "It's running five minutes fast again, I don't know what's wrong with it, I really must take it to be mended…"
Another painfully long pause. He takes his glasses off and gives them a polish. The tension is killing me.
"Dad, can't you just pretend you did the talk? If mum asks I promise I'll back you up."
He shakes his head. "No, I've got to do it." He glances towards the door as if wondering if he can make a quick getaway. I know how he feels. "Look, how much do you know already?"
Oh, God!
"Um, dunno... some."
"I mean, you know where everything goes and- and-"
"Jesus, yes!"
"Alright! I was only asking! And don't let your mother catch you using that kind of language, please."
-----
So then I have to sit through possibly the longest five minutes of my life where he stutters on about "responsibility" and "waiting until you're ready" and "understanding the pressures young people are under these days", etc etc. I just stare at my shoes and will it to be over. There are some words you never want to hear your dad say. I'm not telling you what they were. It was embarrassing enough the first time. I just wanted to put my hands over my ears and go "la la la". Then he says, "So, have you got any questions?"
I shake my head. I'm not dragging this out any longer than I have to.
He says I can ask him anything. Well... there is one thing…
"Yeah, how old were you when you, you know...?"
I wish I'd never asked straight away because he goes absolutely crimson.
"Oh! Er… well, of course, your mother and I-"
Me, hastily, "Never mind, I don't want to know!"
Anyway, I already know they got married when they were like seventeen or eighteen or something so he must have been not much older than me. Aaargh, I just had this picture in my head of my parents doing it, that's so wrong!
-----
I tell you, if I ever have kids, I'll just get them a book about it and they can work it out themselves. Or just learn about it from their older brothers like I did. Mind you, knowing Fred and George, I wouldn't be at all surprised if they made up some of the more disgusting sounding stuff just to freak me out. I mean, why would anyone want to – urgh, it makes me feel queasy just thinking about it! And I can't believe he basically asked me if I'd done it yet! Chance'd be a fine thing. Accidentally brushing against a girl's chest in the corridor last year and being told, "Get off me, you freak!" is about as close as I've ever got.
-----
All the kids with Muggle parents seem to be a lot more confident about this stuff than the ones from wizarding families. Or maybe it's just me, Ginny's doing alright. Bill and Charlie were never exactly short of female attention. Even Percy had a girlfriend when he was my age. Yeah, it's just me, isn't it? Seamus, Dean and Harry have all had girlfriends, it's just me and Neville who haven't. At least, I hope he hasn't. Christ, that would really be depressing. Please tell me I'm at least a little bit cooler than Neville!
Aug 13th
So tonight, we're sitting outside in the garden on the bench against the back wall of the house, when she lets drop a bit of a bombshell.
"My mum and dad didn't want to let me come back," she says, "After what happened…"
What?! A shiver goes up my spine at the thought of her not coming back to school and me never seeing her again.
Of course, she doesn't notice a thing, even though I'm sure all the colour must have just drained from my face. She goes on: "I managed to talk them round, though. These next two years are far too important, what with our NEWTs and everything..."
I think, great, so that's the only reason she wanted to come back, is it? Her sodding exams.
"Anyway, I've got to write to them every week, and I had to promise I'd have a nice quiet year this year and stay out of trouble. I mean, can you imagine if they took me out of school before I'd taken my exams?"
She shakes her head in disbelief as though this is the worst thing that could ever happen to her. Losing a limb, burning the house down, actual death - pah! Failing her exams? Now that's really serious…
ME: "Yeah, but you wouldn't let them do that, would you?"
HER: "I'm not sure I'd have much choice. I mean, they didn't even want to let me come here..."
ME, panicking: "Here? But you're not in any danger here! You've been here loads of times and they've never said anything before!"
HER: "Calm down, it's fine, I told them it was perfectly safe. Well, as safe as anywhere, I suppose, now that Vol-"
ME: "We wouldn't let anything happen to you!"
HER: "I know you wouldn't, I told them that too. But they're Muggles, remember, they don't really understand everything that goes on in the wizarding world. All they know is that for about the third year running, their only daughter ended up in the hospital wing. You can't blame them for being worried. I don't tell them half of what goes on, to be honest. If I did, I definitely wouldn't be coming back to school this year, and I wouldn't be sitting here now with you, either." She sighs. "It's hard not to be able to talk about things with them anymore. I used to be able to talk to my mum about everything."
ME, far too quickly: "You can talk to me..."
She sighs again. "Yes… but…not about everything."
ME, annoyed: "Why not?"
HER, dryly: "Girls' things, Ron. You don't want to hear about all that stuff, do you?"
ME, going red: "Well, no. Alright. My sister, then."
HER: "There are some things I can't talk to her about either. Anyway, it's not the same. I miss talking to my mum about things. She always made me feel as though everything was going to be alright."
ME: "Everything is going to be alright."
HER: "No, it isn't. You don't really believe that anymore than I do. Everything's already not alright. Sirius is dead. Your dad was nearly killed. Harry…"
She tails off, then forces a smile on her face and changes the subject quickly before we both slit our wrists: "Anyway, they both work, so I just pointed out that I'd have been at home on my own for the whole summer. At least here I'm with my friends."
ME, half-jokingly: "Aw, would you have missed us?"
HER, pretending to be annoyed: "Of course I would! What sort of thing is that to say?"
ME, putting my hands up in mock-defence: "Alright, alright, I was joking, for God's sake!"
HER, deadpan: "Well, I'd have missed Harry and Ginny, anyway."
ME: "You wouldn't have missed me, then?"
HER: "Not for a minute."
ME: "I wouldn't have missed you either."
HER: "Well, that's alright, then."
-----
We grin at each other, then I realise I've been grinning at her like an idiot for far too long already, and force myself to look away. There's a very long and very awkward silence during which I stare at my shoes and think, say something, for God's sake! Sadly, the best my brain can come up with is:
"Mum keeps banging on at me about my NEWTs. She reckons I get too easily distracted when I should be studying. She says I should be more like you."
Her, laughing, "Boring, you mean!"
Me, before I can stop myself or realise what I'm saying: "You're not boring. Not remotely boring. The opposite of boring, in fact."
Another awkward pause. Shit, I shouldn't have said that. I can feel my stupid face getting hot again. Such a giveaway. Don't look at her, don't look at her.
She's obviously a bit stumped - not used to me being quite so nice to her, I suppose - and just says, "Well… thank you. That's a very nice thing to say."
I go even redder and just manage to mumble, "Welcome."
-----
Right, that's it, I'm getting out of here before I say something else I'm gonna regret. I stand up and say, "D'you wanna cup of tea? I'm gonna make some tea, do you want one?" I don't even wait for an answer, I just dash inside, where Bill and Fleur are - urgh! - snogging the faces off each other at the kitchen table.
Me: "For Christ's sake, people eat in here!"
Bill: "Get out!"
Me: "I'm making a cup of tea!"
Bill: "OUT!"
I ignore him and reach up to get a mug from the cupboard but before I can get it Hermione sweeps in, grabs me by the elbow and practically drags me out of the kitchen and into the front room.
Me, annoyed: "What are you doing?"
Her, just as annoyed for some reason: "Couldn't you tell they wanted to be alone?"
Me: "Yeah, and I wanted a cup of tea!"
Her: "Oh, for God's sake! You're hopeless!"
Me, a bit put out: "I'm hopeless? What have I done"
Her: "Nothing, that's just the trouble!"
She storms off upstairs. What's that all about? She as much as admitted I hadn't done anything, but she's still pissed off with me! I really can't win. Whatever I do - or don't do, apparently - it's always wrong.
Aug 14th
Christ, I hate August, why's it so freaking hot all the time? It's too hot to sleep, it's too hot to move, it's too hot to do anything. Of course, she loves the hot weather. She likes being outside, she likes the sunshine. Me, I just want to lie down in a dark room and die 'til September. Course, it helps that she goes a nice shade of brown in the sun and I just look like I've been spit-roasted. Summer's not made for the red-haired, I'm telling you. Oh shut up, Weasley, you're whining again. It's just because it's so bloody hot, that's all. I get "Oh, stop whinging, Ron" a lot when the weather's like this.
"Stop complaining, Ron, it's a lovely day out!"
"No, it's not, it's baking. And I'm dying…"
"You're not dying, you're just… sweaty."
Yeah, thanks for pointing that out, I don't think anyone would have noticed otherwise. It's alright for her, she doesn't spend the whole summer looking like all sweaty and red-faced in front of someone she likes. Because she's so perfect. Oh, God! Stop it! If I could sleep I wouldn't have to lie here thinking about it. Her. Really doesn't help. Just makes me feel even hotter, if that's possible.
-----
I think I'd actually rather be at school, at least there because the walls are made of thick stone and it's so much farther North it never really gets hot at night. Sometimes they even have to have the fires lit in June! Sod it, I'm moving to Scotland. I could get a job in the Hog's Head washing glasses or something. Christ knows they could do with a wash. And I could move into the Shrieking Shack. How brilliant would it be to have a whole house all to myself? Half the time I don't even get my own room to myself. I'm quite glad I don't have to share a room with Harry anymore, now that Fred and George have left home and he can have their room instead when he stays over. You definitely need a bit of space in this family sometimes.
-----
I wish someone would tell my mum that, she keeps sending people up with a cup of tea to get me out of bed. For the love of Merlin, woman, I'm on sodding holiday, will you just let me sleep! So that means people keep barging in without knocking and I can't tell you how appalling it is waking up and finding the girl you fancy standing by your bedside with a cup of tea. I might have been doing anything! First time she did that I swore at her and made her jump and spill most of it. Since then she just knocks on the door and leaves the cup outside. Of course, that means that with a sort of crashing inevitableness I forget it's there, so the first thing I do when I open my door in the morning is kick it over and step in a puddle of cold tea in my socks. Genius! It's only ever me this stuff happens to as well. I seem to have a knack for making myself look like a complete idiot in front of her. It's almost like I do it on purpose sometimes.
-----
Oh God, I can't sleep! I might ask if I can kip outside in the broom shed tomorrow, although I bet you a thousand Galleons mum doesn't let me in case, I don't know, evil wizards come and put a curse on me in the night or something. Mind you, I don't have a thousand Galleons, I don't even have ten sodding Galleons in fact, so I wouldn't take that bet if I were you.
-----
A grand total of no Galleons, six Sickles, two Knuts and a lot of lint stuck to a very sticky toffee. Sad but true! Almost all my worldly possessions. The contents of my pockets plus: some hand-knitted jumpers (which I'd happily see burnt, sorry Mum), a pile of old comics, my granddad's old Wizard's Chess set, a very noisy and annoying owl called Pig (don't ask!), and a Cleansweep 11 broomstick which isn't nearly as good as the ones other people on the team have got, but at least it's mine, and it's new too, or it was a year ago. I never get anything new, see, and it's probably the only thing I actually own that didn't belong to somebody else in my family first, so that's why it's my favourite thing. My favourite thing that doesn't begin with H and think I'm an idiot, anyway.
Aug 15th
Just come back from another walk with Hermione. Still can't work out whether it went well or not. We ended up walking down to the village again and sitting on the bench on the green, the one at the top end by the chip shop. And oh my God, the smell of the chips and the salt and the vinegar and that damp paper they use to wrap it in, it's just one of the best smells in the world. I mean, I know we'd just had dinner and everything, but you know me, I could eat three dinners and still have room for pudding. She said maybe we could get some chips to share, and I said I didn't have any Muggle money and she said that's okay, I do, and - well, that's the second time in a fortnight, so I said no, thanks. She said, "Don't be silly, it's only a pound!" which was totally missing the point.
It's only a pound to her, it's like, nothing, but I can't even afford that. And I don't even know what a pound is in normal money, but say it's half a Galleon. I get three Galleons a month pocket money and I'm supposed to buy birthday presents and everything out of that. I tell you, when you come from a family of nine, there aren't many months of the year that most of your pocket money doesn't go on other people. And I don't really mind, most of the time, but it would be nice if just once - just once - I could afford to treat her to an ice cream or a cup of tea or half a bag of sodding chips. She wouldn't leave it either, she kept teasing me about it, saying, "Ooh, smell those chips… lovely hot chips…", and I don't know why but I got really annoyed all of a sudden and shouted, "I'm not a fucking charity case!"
I wished I hadn't straight away. Because it was a really twattish thing to say, but also because I knew she didn't mean anything by it, and she looked really hurt and offended. She said, "I know you're not, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" and I said, "No, I know, I'm sorry, forget it" and then we just sat there awkwardly for a bit not really knowing what to say. Me thinking, "Nice one, Ron, you idiot…"
-----
I was trying to think of a crap joke to break the silence but then she said, all smiles like I hadn't just yelled at her, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to get some chips!" When we got to the counter the bloke asked if she wanted small or large chips and she said "Ooh, large, please, I'm feeling really hungry!" and grinned at me, and it was just so obvious she was only getting large chips so she could give me some of hers without me getting all offended again. I was sort of annoyed with her, but of course, since it's her, I can't stay annoyed at her very long, and it was a nice thing to do, and the chips did smell fantastic… Mostly though, I was annoyed with myself, because I knew I was going to give in again and I was cursing myself for being so pathetically easy to get round.
-----
Not that it mattered anyway, because the bloke behind the counter suddenly said, really loudly, "Blimey, mate, what happened to you?" I didn't even realise he was talking to me at first, but then he said, "Your arms, mate. You look like you went ten rounds with a deep fat fryer!" and everyone in the shop turned to look at me, including her. Well, that was the last straw, really. I just turned around and walked away as fast as I could and went and sat on the bench on the other side of the green and waited for her to catch me up.
-----
It's been over a month now, and the scars have faded quite a bit already, so I suppose I've sort of forgotten that other people can still see them. We've never actually talked about what happened that night. We've talked about Harry of course, because it was so much worse for him, but we've never talked about what happened to us. She came storming out a few minutes later, absolutely furious:
"Well, we won't be going there again! Honestly, I can't believe he said that, it's really rude! I told him he shouldn't say things like that to people, I mean, you might have been in a car crash or something!"
And so on and so on. I was quite glad really, because her banging on meant I didn't have to say anything.
"Don't worry about what he thinks, he works in a chip shop, what does he know? Anyway, you got those scars fighting You-Know-Who - (Well, she didn't say that, obviously, she said the actual name) - you should be proud of them!"
That made me laugh. "No, I didn't. I got them messing about and slowing everybody down and being completely bloody useless. As usual."
"Ron, you'd been hit by a curse, nobody blames you."
"I do."
She stared at me for a few seconds, then she said, quietly, "At least you weren't unconscious."
I hadn't really thought about that. I told her, "Well, that wasn't your fault."
"No, and what happened to you wasn't your fault either."
I didn't really have any comeback for that one. She's very good at arguing me into a corner. She's very good at lots of things. We sat there in silence remembering for a bit, then she said, "Anyway, I wouldn't worry about a few little scars, girls love that kind of thing, look at Harry."
ME: "Yeah, well, that's Harry. I just get fat blokes in chip shops pointing at me."
HER, laughing: "You wouldn't be interested in the kind of girl who only liked you because you were famous anyway, would you?"
ME: "In case you hadn't noticed I'm not exactly beating them off with sticks. I'll take what I can get, frankly."
HER: "Harry hates it."
ME: "Yeah, it must be terrible, having loads of girls follow you around all day."
HER: "You want a girl with a bit of spirit about her, not someone who follows you around like a lost dog."
ME : "I think I could cope."
HER: "Well, it would drive me mad. I want someone who knows their own mind and isn't intimidated by me knowing mine."
ME: "Yeah, and if he was drop-dead good looking as well that would help…"
HER: "Not necessarily. Looks aren't that important."
ME: (big false cough) "Yeah, right..."
HER: "They're not! Personality is much more important!"
ME: "Oh, come on, you're telling me if you had the choice between two blokes, and they both had lovely personalities, and one of them was devastatingly handsome and the other one looked like the back end of a troll, you'd go for the ugly one?"
HER: "I might! It would depend on the individual boy. Anyway… attractive people who know they're attractive aren't really attractive."
ME, laughing: "What does that even mean? That doesn't even make sense!"
HER, huffily: "It does if you actually bothered to listen..."
ME, slightly aware that we were getting into a dangerous area and that I probably wasn't going to like the answer to this question, but somehow unable to stop myself: "So what is your type then?"
Of course, typical Hermione, she just avoided the question completely and turned it back around on me again:
"Oh, I don't know, I've not really given it much thought. You?"
Well, there was no way I was going to go down that road if she wasn't, so I ignored that and said, "Everyone knows what your type is anyway."
"Fine, you tell me then, if you're so clever!"
"Well, it's tall, dark and Bulgarian, isn't it?"
She gave me one of her withering looks. "Sometimes, Ron, you are so utterly predictable. And wrong."
I just thought, yeah, well, obviously I'm not, or you wouldn't have gone out with him, would you?
HER: "Anyway, you haven't answered the question."
ME: "What question?"
HER: "What's your type?"
ME, blatantly still not answering the question: "Dunno. Haven't really thought about it. As long as they've got all their own teeth and haven't got one leg shorter than the other or anything."
HER: "So you're fussy, then?"
That made me laugh, and she laughed too, and then I looked down at the scars on my arms and that just reminded me of Harry again. He's just lost the closest person he had to a dad, and we were sitting there laughing like nothing had happened. Arguing about who was going to pay for the chips. We hadn't even told him where we were going or asked if he wanted to come. I was just thinking about getting her all to myself for a change, like a selfish idiot. I didn't think about Harry for a second. I wasn't there for him that night when Sirius died either. And alright, I know it wasn't entirely my fault, but that doesn't make me feel any less guilty about it. I told her, "I feel like I let him down." There's no-one else I'd say it to. She's the only other person in the world who'd understand. She stopped laughing and sighed and said, "I know. I feel that too." We didn't say anything else after that. After a while she realised that the chips had gone cold, and well, there's nothing worse than cold chips, so she just threw them in the bin and we walked home.
Aug 17th
Just had a bit of a row with Harry. It wasn't anything serious, just something I said without thinking that he took the wrong way. He's not a happy bunny at the moment. Anyway, he stormed off upstairs, I called after him and said I was sorry, but he didn't turn around. We hardly ever argue - not like me and her do, anyway - but it doesn't take much to upset him lately. I keep trying to cheer him up, but I don't even know if that's what he wants. I'm not very good at the serious stuff. I have tried, but he never seems to want to talk about it, so what can I do? Make stupid jokes like nothing's happened. I feel a bit useless, actually. I don't know what to say to him. No-one I know has ever died. All he seems to want to do is play Quidditch. If me or Hermione go anywhere near the subject of Sirius he just clams up.
-----
If it was me I'd want to talk about it, I'd be yelling and shouting and kicking the shit out of things, I promise you. I suppose that's my trouble, not knowing when to shut up. But that's got to be better than pretending you're alright when you're not, surely? Hermione says he'll talk when he's ready, but I'm not so sure. I get the impression he only tells me half of what goes on in his head, to be honest. Not that I'm complaining - it's up to him, isn't it? And I can't talk, considering there's one rather large subject I never talk to him about. But it can be a bit frustrating sometimes. We only want to help. He's not the only one who feels guilty about Sirius, we all do. And she's right, it's no-one's fault, least of all Harry's. It's just an awful thing that happened. I suppose the best I can do until he finally decides he wants to talk about it is try and take his mind off things. I wish there was something else I could do to help, but there isn't. Stupid sodding jokes, that's all I've got.
-----
Later:
Hermione just knocked on my bedroom door. I was all excited for about five seconds, but of course - of course! - she just wanted to talk about Harry...
HER: "Listen, Ron, what we were talking about the other day… I've been thinking… Harry needs us to really be there for him this year. We're all he's got now. We can't just think about ourselves anymore."
ME: "I know."
HER: "If he starts having those dreams again, you've got to tell me."
ME: "I know, I will. But he got really annoyed last time, he said we were talking about him behind his back."
HER: "But we're not!"
I just raise my eyebrows.
HER: "Well, alright, maybe we are, but it's only because he's our friend and we care about him. Anyway, I'm sure you two talk about me when I'm not there."
ME, outraged: "We do not!"
HER: "Well, obviously you do…"
ME: "No. We don't."
HER, smiling: "I'd be offended if you didn't, Ron."
ME: "I promise you, we don't."
This is pretty much true. We mention her, of course we do. Hermione says this. Hermione says that. Hermione will kill me when she finds out. That kind of thing. But we never sit around in the dorm like she obviously imagines we do, talking about her. What she's like. Harry isn't really the sort of bloke to talk about people behind their back, and obviously I don't exactly want to bring up the subject. So I say, trying to shut off this particular conversation and expecting the answer to be No, "Why, do you two talk about me when I'm not there?"
HER: "Of course we do."
ME, slightly taken aback: "Oh. Okay. What do you say?"
HER: "I'm joking, Ron. I know I don't joke very often, but I did think you of all people might have been able to tell."
ME: "Yeah, sorry. I'm not feeling very funny at the moment. I keep thinking about Harry. Should I go and ask him if he fancies a game of chess or something?"
HER: "Yes, being resolutely beaten by you should cheer him up no end."
ME: "What?"
HER: "Oh, for God's sake. I'm joking!"
So I go and find Harry, and he pretends he was asleep, and I pretend I believe him, and everything's fine again. Well, as fine as it can be, anyway. He nearly beats me too, and I nearly let him. And it's great, it's just the three of us having a laugh and taking the piss out of each other and not thinking at all about the awful thing that happened.
Aug 18th
I'm sitting in the back garden this afternoon reading a magazine when Bill wanders out from the kitchen with two cold bottles of actual beer - yay, Bill! - and comes and sits down next to me.
BILL, handing me one: "Don't tell Mum."
ME: "Don't worry, I won't. Where did you get these?"
BILL: "Pub in the village, but don't go getting any ideas."
ME: "But that's a Muggle pub, where did you get the money?"
BILL, dryly: "I work in a bank, Ron."
ME, going red: "Oh. Yeah."
BILL: "So, Mum said you wanted to ask me something?"
ME: No."
BILL, frowning: "Oh. Okay, then." He starts to get up again.
ME: "Oh, wait! I'm supposed to ask you for careers advice! Sorry, it's just Mum, you know what she's like…"
Bill laughs. "Yeah. I know. Ask away, then. Although I'm not sure what kind of advice I'll be able to give you. I mean, did you want to work for Gringotts?"
ME: "Not particularly."
BILL: "Well, have you got any idea what you do want to do?"
ME: "I wanted to be an Auror but I failed Potions so now I can't."
BILL: "Well, that's a shame. That would be a great job. Scary. But great. Although you do realise there's no way on earth Mum would have let you, don't you?"
ME, annoyed: "Why not? Because I'm not good enough, I suppose?"
BILL, patiently, like he's explaining something obvious to a small child: "No. Because it's insanely dangerous. Can you imagine her letting her youngest son swan around the country chasing Death Eaters? After everything you've already been through with Harry? You give her more grey hairs than the rest of us put together, you know. You and Ginny. Especially after what happened at the Ministry. Don't you think she's got enough to worry about already without you deliberately putting yourself in even more danger?"
I feel horribly guilty straight away. I hadn't thought about that at all. I thought she was just trying to put me off because she thought I didn't have a chance of passing the entrance exams.
ME: "Oh. Yeah. S'pose."
BILL, obviously trying to cheer me up: "Mind you, Percy's got probably the safest job in the world and hardly leaves his desk and she never stops crying about what if anything happened to him and we weren't talking." He sighs. "Anyway, I don't want to talk about Percy. Listen, Ron, just tell her you want to work in an office. It's not worth the hassle. If you still want to be an Auror in two years time… well, you probably won't by then."
ME: "I will!"
BILL: "Two years is a long time. A lot can happen. Will happen. There's a war on, in case you hadn't noticed. Just - keep her sweet. She lost both her brothers in the last war, she's got a husband and six sons who are all of age to fight in this one - well, nearly six - so you can't blame her for worrying, can you? Try not to give her too much of a hard time about it."
ME, properly ashamed: "I didn't think."
BILL, doing a scarily accurate impression of Mum: "That's your trouble, young man, you just don't think!"
ME: "I feel like a total arsehole now."
BILL, laughing: "Well, that would be because you are, Ron! Nah, look, I know it's a pain when she goes off on one of her nagging fits. She's not exactly my favourite person at the moment either-"
ME, shocked, "Isn't she? Why?"
BILL, lowering his voice: "In case you hadn't noticed, she's not exactly been giving Fleur an easy time of it lately. I could do without it, to be honest. Dad's been fine, Charlie's been fine, all the men in this family have been no problem-"
ME, sarcastically, "Hmm, I wonder why that is..."
Bill laughs. "Yeah, fair point. But it doesn't make it any easier. I'm supposed to be getting married next year, I don't need the hassle." He sighs loudly. "Right, is this the end of our careers session or have you got anything else you want to ask me?"
ME: "Yeah, how the hell did someone like you manage to pull someone like Fleur?"
BILL: "It's my natural animal magnetism, you cheeky little git. And the hair. She loves the hair…"
ME: "Well, who wouldn't?"
BILL: "Exactly. Come on, any serious questions?"
ME, without thinking: "Yeah, how old were you when you, you know?"
Bill starts laughing. "When I what?"
ME, going red: "Oh, forget it, if you're just gonna take the piss out of me!"
BILL: "Sorry, you just caught me off guard there. Um... Why, are you thinking about it?"
I just give him a hard stare.
BILL: "Of course you are. Silly me. Okay. I was seventeen. So you've still got about six months on me."
ME: "Yeah, like that'll happen."
BILL: "You never know."
ME: "I think I can probably take a wild guess."
BILL, chuckling: "Did Dad give you the talk yet?"
ME: "Oh, God. Yeah, last week, actually."
BILL: "Last week! Blimey, he's really leaving it late these days, isn't he?"
ME: "Why, how old were you?"
BILL: "Twelve. And I had no idea what he was talking about and he made it sound so grim it totally put me off for ages."
We both fall about laughing.
BILL, recovering himself: "I think Dad realised I was a bit too young for the talk, so he's been putting it off 'til later and later ever since, and that's why he waited 'til you were - Jesus! - sixteen. Poor Dad, I've never seen him so embarrassed in my life. Still, just be glad you're not Charlie."
ME: "Why?"
BILL, hardly able to speak, he's laughing so much: "Because Charlie… haha… got… hahaha… diagrams…"
-----
We both laugh so much at the thought of poor Charlie and what he must have gone through that Bill nearly chokes on his beer, and I get a stitch and have to go back in the house to recover. That was a good conversation, though. I feel much better about everything now. Well, worse, because I feel guilty about Mum. But better, because I know what I'm going to do. I'll just tell her I want to work at the Ministry. I mean, it's two years away, that should be plenty of time for me to work out what I actually want to do. She probably won't even remember. And maybe by then they'll be so desperate for people to help fight You-Know-Who they'll lower their entry standards and let anybody join. Even me, with my one NEWT, or whatever I end up getting. Yeah, that's what I'll do, I'll lie. It's really only a white lie, anyway. Like Bill says, she's got enough to worry about already. And it is sort of true. I mean, the Aurors' Office is based at the Ministry. Yeah. That's what I'll tell her. Good old Bill. Although I'm sure that wasn't really what she had in mind when she told me I should ask him for advice!
Aug 19th
I've been sitting out in the garden with Hermione again tonight, just the two of us not talking about anything in particular, it was nice. Once the sun's gone down it's nice and cool out there, especially if it's a clear night like it was tonight. A plane went over at one point and I wondered aloud where it was going and she said it was probably coming from Exeter or Plymouth and going to Gatwick or Southampton.
Me: "Ooh, Gatwick, exciting!"
Her: "It is exciting, actually, you can get anywhere in the world from Gatwick."
Me: "You can get anywhere in the world on the Floo Network from my mum's fireplace."
Her: "Alright, clever-clogs!"
We sit there in silence watching the sky for a while, and then she says, "Where would you go, if you could?"
"Dunno. Somewhere not hot."
She laughs. "Alaska?"
"Is it cold?"
"Yes, it's up near the Arctic Circle."
"That'll do."
She starts laughing again, so I ask her what's so funny and she says she's just imagining how much complaining I must have done when we went to Egypt. She's right, of course. She's always right.
Me, grinning: "I'll have you know I didn't complain about the heat more than once"
"Rubbish!"
"- a minute..."
She slaps my arm. "Idiot."
We stare at the sky some more.
"Where would you go, if you could go anywhere?"
She doesn't hesitate for a second. "Paris."
Me: "I thought you'd already been to France?"
She says, yes, but not to Paris, and anyway she'd like to go without her parents, so she could go anywhere, do anything she wanted. Which apparently would mainly involve visiting a load of museums.
Her, dreamily: "It's supposed to be the most romantic city in the world…"
I make gagging noises and she shakes her head. "God, you're such a boy!"
"Mm, museums… does it for me…"
"Oh, shut up!"
We watch as another plane goes over.
Me: "You wouldn't catch me going up in one of those things. It doesn't look safe."
She stares at me. "Ron… you've been fifty foot in the air on a broomstick…"
"Yeah, but -"
She starts laughing. "You've travelled by Floo Powder!"
"It's not the same -"
"You've driven a flying car!"
I'm trying to be annoyed with her but it's impossible.
"You've ridden an invisible horse!" She's practically helpless with laughter now.
"Yeah, but I know how those things work, don't I? They work by magic. But how does something that big stay up without magic? It's mad!"
She stops laughing, with a massive effort. "Actually, I'm not sure. Something to do with air currents and engines, I think. I don't know."
Me, pretending to call into the house: "Hey, Harry! Send an owl to the Daily Prophet! There's something Hermione doesn't know!"
Her: "Shut up! There are lots of things I don't know, actually!"
-----
I never get to find out what they are though, because just then there's a definite movement in the trees ten feet in front of us and we both jump to our feet. Neither of us have got our wands with us, which is pretty stupid, but since we're not supposed to use them outside of school, why the hell would we? She grabs my arm and we just stand there frozen waiting for what I'm sure we both think are a gang of Death Eaters about to burst out of the bushes and kill us. I know they say your life's supposed to flash before your eyes when you know you're going to die, but all I kept thinking was; if I'd known it was my last meal I'd have had a second helping of pudding. Later, I thought; if I had ten seconds to live I'd tell her, but actually, I probably wouldn't. I'd probably just chicken out, even then. Anyway, I'm not sure that ten seconds would have been long enough.
"Hermione… I... er... I sort of... um… well… it's like this… I mean… er…"
Of course the killing curse is pretty much instant, so I wouldn't even have had that long: "Herm - aarghhhhh!!"
-----
Oh, yeah, and it wasn't Death Eaters, it was Fred and George, coming round to collect some boxes they needed for the shop. Good thing I didn't say anything, eh? It would have been embarrassing enough without those two taking the piss out of me about it for the rest of my natural life. I had a really lucky escape, actually. They cornered me in the kitchen and asked if it was true that Dad had finally given me the talk. Apparently him waiting 'til I was sixteen is like the funniest thing ever - thanks, Bill - and they want to know if I had any questions.
"Because we had loads, didn't we, George?"
"Yeah, you wanted to know if it was true that too much masturbation makes you go blind…"
"And you wanted to know how small is too small…"
They both fall about laughing.
"So, did you have any questions, ickle Ronnie?"
Me: "Fuck off."
Fred, pretending to be hurt and not fooling anyone: "Ooh, not very nice! We were only asking."
George: "Yeah, we were just trying to help. I mean, if there was something you couldn't ask Dad, you could always ask us…"
Me, sarcastically: "Yeah, with all your vast experience of girls!"
Fred, even more sarcastically: "Because, obviously, you'd be the first person we'd tell."
George: "Come on, baby bro', you must have some questions for us!"
Cue Hermione with the milk jug, with perfect timing: "Questions about what?"
F & G exchange looks, and I get a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. For about three seconds I'm sure they're gonna rip the piss out of me in front of her, but for some reason, they don't.
Fred: "What about those boxes, George?"
George: "Yep, those boxes won't carry themselves."
Her, when they've gone: "What was that all about?"
Me, incredibly relieved: "Oh, nothing..."
Aug 21st
Oh my God, last night! It was a really hot night again and because my bedroom's at the top of the house it's always even hotter in there. So I can't sleep and I get up in the middle of the night and go downstairs to the kitchen to get a drink of water, and when I'm coming back upstairs, I bump into Hermione coming out of the loo. She's only wearing knickers and a vest. I'm only wearing boxer shorts and a t-shirt. It's a good thing the only light's coming from our wands, if you know what I mean. And apart from that I know I have gone beetroot and I am pretty sure my mouth is hanging open. I have to physically force myself not to look below her neck, but I can't look her in the eye either, so I end up talking to somewhere about a foot above her head.
I say, stupidly, "Oh, hello."
She says, "It's hot, isn't it?"
I say, stupidly, "Yeah."
She says, "Well…"
We both go for the stairs at the same time.
I say, "After you."
She says, "No, after you."
I say, "No, after you" again.
We stand there not moving. I suddenly realise she doesn't want to go up first in case I look at her arse. So then I have to go up first and even though I don't think she's going to be looking at my arse, I suddenly get really self-conscious and am horribly aware of all my limbs. When we get to the landing outside Ginny's room I don't even stop, I just leg it up the stairs to my room and say "Night!" over my shoulder and don't look back. Bloody hell! That's an image that's burned into my retinas for ever, I can tell you! I haven't been able to bring myself to go downstairs yet today, and it's nearly two o'clock already. I'm pretending to still be asleep. It definitely helps when you have the reputation of being able to sleep for England, although I'm sure it's blatantly obvious that I'm avoiding her. To her, anyway. Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God!
-----
Later:
So eventually, I get up and get dressed and go downstairs and thank Christ, she's gone for a walk with Ginny, although this means putting off the embarrassing moment even further. When she comes back everyone is sitting in the kitchen getting dinner ready, so at least I can not look at her without it being really obvious. Then Fred says, really loudly as usual and in front of everybody, "I see you were up in the night, Ron!" And I totally freeze up, but he says, "Or did a gnome sneak in here and eat my last chocolate frog?" I'm so relieved that I talk nineteen to the dozen about complete nonsense for the rest of the day. Turns out Ginny ate the chocolate frog, by the way.
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Next up: Back to school and Ron's about to have an eventful term... As always, if you enjoyed this chapter, please take the time to show your appreciation with a review: it's the only payment we fanfiction writers get! Thanks! PB x
p.s: You can read Hermione's version of the night they bumped into each other on the landing in my other sixth year fic, "The For & Against List", also on FFnet.