Chapter 3
Ron dressed, though he intended to stay in his room until he figured out how to fix things with Hermione. I wish I understood women. The longer he sat the more he decided that he was more angry than sorry. True, he hadn't meant to hurt Hermione that morning, but she was the one sitting in the living room being hypocritical and not letting him fix things.
He stormed out of his room and into the kitchen where he made himself a sandwich. He banged silverware around as he searched for a knife to spread his mustard and slammed the cabinet door once he had gotten his bread. He gulped down his noon-breakfast so quickly he almost choked. By the time he had finished cleaning up, he was absolutely fuming and incapable of keeping his mouth shut.
"Why?" he shouted as he flung himself into an armchair across from Hermione's perch on the sofa.
"Why what?" she responded tightly.
"Why do you always want to talk about our feelings until there's something I want to say or I want to talk about? I'm not good with feelings, Hermione. You know that. But now, there's something I want you to hear, and you won't bloody listen. Why aren't we talking?"
"Because you're yelling at me."
"Sorry," he said, lowering his voice.
"What is it that you are so desperate to tell me?"
"This morning I didn't do it right—"
"So you meant to push me away differently?"
"—No. Yes. I mean that's not what I was trying to do. I don't want ..progression.. with you to be that fast. I want to know that we want it not that we have no impulse control. I want it to be soft and sweet with time to remember every inch of you. When it's right."
Hermione set her book down and patted the cushion next to her. Ron crossed over to her, half expecting to be slapped.
"That is the most wonderful thing you have ever said." She thought about kissing him, but truth be told she was still a little miffed about his earlier rejection. There was an awkward tension between them. Each remembered the morning's, well, groping, but both had reasons for sitting apart.
"We didn't really get to talk last night. What'd you do this summer, Hermione?"
"I do Muggle home-schooling. My parents want me to be prepared if I decide I want to leave the Wizarding world."
"You go to school during your breaks from school?" Ron repeated incredulously, obviously repulsed by the idea.
"Well, yes. What do you do that's so much better, mister high and mighty?"
"I practice Quidditch and read mystery novels and mglrmns."
"I always knew you were secretly literate. I've seen you hiding in the back corner of the library. And you read mysteries and what?"
Ron looked sheepish as he answered, "Sappy Muggle romances."
Hermione giggled before she managed to control herself. "Please tell me you don't recycle romantic lines."
"Never. But they do expand my vocabulary of… lewd words and clever verbs."
