Prompt: Weasley is finally where he feels he belongs-on top

Hogwarts era

Word count: 4878 (300each writer)

Note: The following story is a submission to the facebook group Platform 9 3/4. An Aesthetic was made as the prompt and each writer was given 24 hours to write a submission, they were then given the opportunity to write a second piece of the story.

Disclaimer: the authors of this story did not create these characters and will in no way claim ownership therein. All things Harry Potter related belong to JK Rolling.

Story Title : Ron write-a-long, Weasley is Our King

Rating: K

Genre: General

Fanfic name : Platform9 3/4

Pairing if any: Pansy/Ron

Ocs if any: None

Summary : Ron is on top of the world, or so it seems...

Weasley is Our King

Ron was in one excellent mood.

Firstly, Gryffindor had won the match against the blasted snakes, thanks largely to his Quidditch skills. So what if he had been under the influence of liquid luck? He'd won the sodding match, hadn't he? That's all that mattered. What was more, bloody-brooding-Potter actually seemed to be coming out of whatever depressing shell he'd been holed up in as of late. Perhaps Finnigan and him could get Potter to actually lighten up and have fun for once. Throw a rager, similar to the notorious ones Potter's father and the infamous Sirius Black had been known to have in the Gryffindor common room.

Even more promising, he'd caught the girls ogling at him in the crowds. Even Slytherin's ice queen herself, Pansy-sodding-Parkinson had cast her glance his way. Who cared if the-Gryffindor-know-it-all-princess had her nose thoroughly stuck in a book? He could get any girl in Hogwarts, if he so pleased.

"Surely not any girl," Longbottom teased, after Ron had boasted loudly.

"Yes, any girl," he affirmed, grinning widely. "Didn't you see me on the field today, mate? Bloody hell, a witch would have to be barmy to refuse me."

Thomas sauntered up to the group of wizards. "Bet you can't."

Ron's brows furrowed in displeasure, but he quickly schooled his features, noticing the way Longbottom, Finnigan, and Thomas were all watching him closely. "Twenty galleons says I can."

Ron found himself doing a quick scan of eligible Gryffindor girls. His first thought was that he would prove his desirability by using Lavender. He might not like her very much, but she worshipped him, as she should. But before he could voice his brilliant idea he was rudely interrupted.

"Before you try and use Brown she doesn't count, she's clingy and you've been snogging her for months." Finnigan stated definitively.

"Besides, if I'm putting my money on this, I get some input on who the bird is." With both Thomas and Longbottom in agreement Finnigan continued.

"If you want to win you're going to have one week, you must provide proof and I say that we get to choose the target."

Ron started to question himself briefly, then remembered that he was Ron Weasley, the keeper and star of the day! He needed to win this, he knew going in that he didn't have 20 galleons, especially not to lose. No he had this in the bag! "Challenge accepted, so who will I be wooing and winning?"

After a brief glance they smiled and looked at him and in unison responded "Parkinson."

Crap...this just got more difficult.

Ron stormed off for potions feeling his previously happy countenance deflate. Of all the girls in the school, why had they decided on her? She didn't have the reputation as being "the Slytherin Ice Queen" for nothing.

To add insult to injury, after lunch, word seemed to spread through Gryffindor about the wager. He needn't worry about other houses finding out-Lions were nothing if not loyal-but still-it was bloody insulting!

Entering the classroom, his eyes darted over his classmates until they landed on a certain brunette snake. She was seated by her lonesome, likely waiting for Bulstrode to arrive. 'This is my chance,' he thought. 'I can swoop in and start up a conversation with her. Might as well start somewhere.'

Clenching his jaw, he made his way over and plopped heavily in the seat beside her. 'Mione and his sister, Ginny let out an audible snort when they saw his chosen potions partner. He ignored them both and reached into his bag to retrieve his book.

"For Salazar's sake," Parkinson snarled. "What the bloody hell are you doing here, Weasel? Have you lost your senses?"

Ron swallowed thickly. "Thought I might...team up with you today, Parkinson." He waggled his eyebrows in what he hoped looked attractive. "You don't mind, do you?"

Her mouth snapped shut on what she was about to say when Slughorn entered the room. She made to get up and Ron's nostrils flared at the freesia scent of her hair. "Ah, Parkinson, Weatherby," the teacher said. "House unity, very good form!" She stared daggers at him and sat back down, stuck now, amid snickers from the class. "Now, today we will be brewing the Confusing Concoction..."

Slughorn grabbed his wand and then, with a flick of his wrist, he cast a nonverbal Wingardium Leviosa, levitating a piece of chalk. He looked at his class and he said, Confusing Concoction, and they saw the piece of chalk start to move as he wrote the following list:

-One Werewolf fang crushed up -The hair of the person you are trying to do this concoction on which must be forcibly pulled -the smell 4 lavender petals -enough water to fill a size 2 copper cauldron

After he was through, they heard a loud rap on the door and Professor Slughorn told one of the students to open the door. Ron opened the door and saw Hagrid carrying a large container of water.

"Ah, Hagrid," Professor Slughorn said, jovially. "Do you think you can make it through the door alright?"

"Not with the water," he admitted, in his Scottish brogue.

So Professor Slughorn instructed his students to bring their cauldrons to the water and dip them before bringing them back to their seats.

"Here, Weatherby," Pansy said, thrusting their cauldron at Ron. "This is peasant's work." Ron complied begrudgingly.

Professor Slughorn then instructed the students to heat the water to 133 degrees Celsius which the students did before mixing the werewolf fangs and lavender into the Cauldron. Ron watched aghast as their water started to turn black.

Hermione raised her hand, "Professor Slughorn, why is their water turning black?"

This caught him off guard so he peered over the caulderon to see. "That's because you messed up the water. Its not supposed to be at a hundred thirty-three degrees c It has to 200 degrees Celsius."

"Best just toss it away and start over Ralph," Professor Slughorn glanced to Ron patting his shoulder with a doleful expression as he moved back to the front of the classroom.

"Actually my name is Ron, not Ralp-" Ron was about to correct him when he could feel the room suddenly turn cold.

Turning to glance over his right shoulder he immediately noticed the wrathful eyes being shot directly at him by Parkinson. Quickly with a horrified expression now taking hold Ron turned away with a loud gulp to follow.

"Oh just brilliant Weasel," Parkinson growled out lowly. "Not only do you look like a complete fool, which you are, I do too now because I am partnered with you." she folded her arms across her chest. "You heard the Professor Weaselton, throw it out." she snapped at him coldly.

With an quick nod in acknowledgement Ron reached for the cauldron. Though without any thought he forgot that it was still on the burner; as his fingers and hands reached for the cauldron to lift suddenly his hands burned with immense pain. Letting out a loud cry, "Owww!" and dropping the cauldron back onto the tabletop, everyone stopped to turn to look at the sight to be scene.

"Oh Merlin's beard, what now Weatherby?" Slughorn hurried to the back once more. Glancing about at the mess and quickly reaching to check Ron's hands. "Oh just wonderful, a third degree burn." Slughorn threw his hands up in the air. "Well I best send you to the infirmary get those hands checked out," Slughorn turned to shoot a glance a disorientated Parkinson rubbing her face. "Parkinson." Slughorn quickly addressed. "Take young Rupert down to the infirmary get him looked at will you. Would be the moral thing to with all this house unity going about." Parkinson groaned and wiped her eyes until she came to.

"As for the rest of you, clean up Weatherby's mess and finish up the concoctions." Slughorn said as he walked off to the front. Ron was in immense pain and his worse fear became a reality as he heard Professor Slughorn suggest Parkinson take him to see Madam Pomfrey. His mind lurked at the thought of what the cold hearted queen was gonna do to him, Suck out his soul like the dementors. Though as he turned Parkinson merely stood there and reached for his hand gently with a smile, "Let's go get you looked after shall we?"

She was being nice to him suddenly? Had his soul already been sucked out or was this just another dream he was stuck in he could hardly tell.

Together, Ron and Parkinson make their way up from the dungeons and to the hospital wing.

"Madam Pomfrey, poor Ron needs your assistance!" Parkinson shouts to the empty wing. Pomfrey emerges from a back room. She looks strangely at the usually rude Parkinson, then at Ron's obviously burned hands. "Oh my, what happened here?"

Slightly embarrassed and still thoroughly shocked at Parkinson's change of heart, a red-faced Ron answers, " I, um, grabbed a hot cauldron.."

"When will you students learn to be more careful? Oh well, it's nothing a little essence of dittany can't fix."

Pomfrey grabs a small vial from the cabinet and dabs the contents on Ron's hands. Greenish smoke rises from his hands and as it clears, the skin looks as if it was never burnt .

"There, you're as good as new. Now get back to class," Pomfrey tells the pair.

After racking his brain, trying to figure out Parkinson's odd behavior, Ron decides the reason doesn't matter. What does matter, is cashing in on a certain wager.

As they exited the hospital wing, Ron was torn on what tactic to use- earning the affections of a Slytherin seemed impossible at the best of times. He considered playing to her sympathies by feigning discomfort, acting as if nothing unusual at all had happened, or even blaming her for his mistake.

No. That wouldn't do.

"Pansy, I'm sorry for screwing up the potion," he said, using all of his self-control not to stutter over his nerves. "I never have been the best potioneer."

Pansy sighed, and when Ron looked over, he was surprised to see something akin to sympathy softening her features, she really was quite pretty, he thought. "It's alright, Ron," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

His heart began to race at the contact. What was he to think of this? After the icy cold reception in potions class, he wasn't sure what to think of her warm demeanor. Was she trying to trick him? Maybe that's why she was acting this way.

She sighed again and glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, her cheeks coloring.

"Look. I don't like feeling out of control. Especially in front of a crowd," she said, glancing away from him and at the stone walls of the abandoned hallway they were walking down.

"I should have let you take the lead on the potion," he said, his feet slowing a bit to match Pansy's pace. "I was just...well, I was trying to-"

"Show off?" She offered, stopping completely.

Ron felt his face flame with embarrassment.

"Well, yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his neck, examining a loose thread on his jumper.

She laughed. Well, actually, Ron thought, it was more of a giggle. Pansy was giggling at him? What in the name of Merlin was going on? He couldn't help but smile along with her.

"That's what Gryffindors do, Ron. I expected that. But it's not the potion I mean..." She explained, turning to face him.

Ron furrowed his brow, giving Pansy a questioning look. She glanced up and down the hallway- still abandoned- before placing her hand in the middle of his chest and pushing him backward. He allowed her to lead him, bewildered, as his feet shuffled toward the wall behind him.

"If you ever tell anyone about this, Ronald Weasley, I will have you crucified," she said before she raised up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

Ron's brain short-circuited at the contact of Pansy's lips. He stood there, completely shocked and unable to move, as her lips moved slowly over his. His thoughts raced a mile a minute.

Does this mean that he won the bet?
Did his fellow Gryffindors shoot themselves by suggesting Pansy?

Ron was pulled from his thoughts when Pansy pulled away and slapped him hard across his cheek.

"What the Bloody Hell was that for? You kissed me," he snarled, holding a hand to his stinging cheek.

"You weren't kissing me back! I know you want me, Weasley! Put some effort into it! What are you; a man, or a mouse?" Pansy asked, moving her hands from around his neck, down the front of his chest.

"You know what, I'm neither a man nor a mouse. I'm a Gryffindor." With that, he pulled her closer and pressed his lips to hers. Pansy practically melted in his embrace.

Ron wrapped his arms around her and turned her so her back was against the wall. She pulled away, drawing air into her lungs.

"This is completely mental," she said, breathlessly.

An awkward silence fell between them as they made their way back toward the dungeon. If his lips hadn't still been tingling, he'd swear he'd dreamed the whole thing! Pansy wasn't meeting his eyes. But he knew he had to do something - he HAD to win this wager! Not to mention that kiss was pretty amazing ... And that slap wasn't too bad either! He'd heard tales about those Slytherin girls ... Before he could second guess himself, Ron reached to take her hand.

Pansy glanced over just as Ron's hand was almost touching hers. She stopped in her tracks and in a hushed voice exclaimed "What are you thinking?! Someone could see us!"

Ron paused for a second, and instead of pulling away he continued reaching for her, and grabbed onto her hand and pulled her close. Just as he leaned in for a kiss, he murmured "bloody hell" and just as his lips touched hers, the door to the potions classroom opened and Pansy shoved him away with yet another slap to the face.

"Wait, Pans, where are you going?" Ron asked, trotting after a surprisingly quick witch.

She hushed him, looking around worriedly. "Do you want others to see? Imagine the hit my reputation would take, if people saw me, with a Gryffindor."

"But...what? I don't understand. We-"

"We had a good snog, Weasel," she spat. "Passable, even. Don't read too much into it."

He felt his ears grow hot and his pulse throbbed at his temples. "But Pans, I was hoping you'd go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend."

"Are you dense, Weasley?" Incredulity flickered across her face before she quickly schooled her features."Take a hint and sod off."

With that, she whirled away and Ron was left to stare dumbly after her as she sashayed to her next class. What was this horrible feeling welling up in him? It felt very much like...rejection.

Ron couldn't believe it, he stood there mouth gaping, and confused. How could Pansy Parkinson not be interested in being seen with him? He was Ron Weasley, the best keeper Gryffindor had ever seen, who cared if he had used a magical performance enhancing potion, it worked and they had won. The slags around here should be falling all over themselves to get to him. With that in mind he decided to go find his friends and explain that he was willing to change the terms of their wager, he'd use toffee-nosed no-it-all Hermione, she never dates. It could be like charity...he was such a good wizard to even consider it.

Starting down the hall Ron stopped counting the doors and misjudged which room he was walking into and his day just kept improving...not even close. Standing against the opposite wall, locked in what appeared to be a heated snogging session was that git Malfoy and some faceless slag, well he's pretty sure she had a face, it was just currently being devoured by the blond ferret.

Realizing they were no longer alone Malfoy stopped what he was doing and looked over to see who had bothered to interrupt them.

"Leave now Weasel, we aren't selling tickets for the show, and if we were, you certainly couldn't afford them." Malfoy sneered at the stunned Ron who just now saw that the girl being snogged was Hermione.

An incensed Ron directed his attention at the Gryffindor in front of him. "What are you bloody doing with bloody Malfoy?"

"Honestly Ron, we haven't been hiding anything, Draco and I have been together for months, you're just too self-involved to notice! Now please do what Draco said, and just leave."

With that Ron left, "Could this day get any worse?"

Ron perched on the red chesterfield sofa in the common room, trying and failing, at deciphering his Runic homework. Normally, he'd seek out 'Mione for help, but since it was clear she was rather preoccupied, he was left, regrettably, to his own devices.

The symbols blurred in front of him and he could hardly make heads or tails of it when he was interrupted by the abrupt arrival of Finnigan and Thomas.

"So," Thomas began off-handedly. "We saw you storm off with the ice-queen."

"Yeah," added Finnigan. "Make any headway with the Slytherin princess?"

"As a matter-of-fact," Ron began with false sincerity. "I've already got the witch wrapped around my little finger."

The wizards snickered their disbelief. "Is that so?" asked Finnigan.

"Yep," he lied. "She'll be going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend in fact."

Thomas scoffed, "I'll believe that when I see it." But doubt flicked across his face.

Ron knew he would have to do something drastic to get Parkinson's attention, perhaps at Quidditch against Slytherin tomorrow night?

"Say," Ron started. "Did you lot know 'Mione was dating the Ferret?"

"Ron," Finnigan said. "If you didn't-you were the only one."

"Just bloody brilliant." Ron scoffed at the very thought Hermione and Draco together as an item. The idea was beyond laughable. Though there they were earlier snogging it up with one another like nothing was wrong. Draco the Slytherin ferret the one who constantly harassed and insulted mud-bloods also even the golden trio. Now she suddenly was in a relationship with him of all people. Ron didn't even which added insult to injury.

"If anyone she should of gone out with me, I am ten times better then that blonde snotty jerk." He grumbled. Though that wasn't all that erked him now he had to prove himself to the others about his encounter with Pansy Parkinson too. How would he do this?

He sat there on the sofa infront of the warn hearth feeling the heat surround him. He began to stuff his mouth with a couple of cauldron cakes from dinner that he stashed away. Food always helped him think and after plowing down one suddenly a lightbulb switched on.

"I have a good idea. Hermione won't know what hit her and neither will Malfoy. Everyone will say I am brilliant for it and even Pansy won't resist this either." He stood up and pushed another cake into his mouth storming off to bed for tomorrow his plan would be set in motion.

Next day he ran through the hallways searching everywhere before the Quidditch match against them snakes. Finally he stumbled upon Parkinson sitting in the library looming over a dusty old book. "Parkinson I need to talk to you." He whispered lowly. Only to get shot a cold glare.

"We aren't discussing nothing Weasley. I told you I am not interested because of my reputation." She scowled.

"Sure whatever, but I know a reason as to why you should snog me after the Quidditch match. I heard you had a crush on a certain blonde Slytherin who is currently snogging it up with a lion. He should be with you, besides what does Hermione got that you don't?" He offered a dumb smile to conceal the white lie.

Parkinson stared at him long and hard; she always had a thing for Draco he just never bothered to notice. So perhaps it was by time she tried. She groaned at Weasleton, "Fine. So you want me to snog you to get Granger jealous and Draco jealous. I am in Weaslebee.. but so help me if your plan blows up and makes me into a laughing stock I will bloody well slap you till your face matches your hair color!" She shut the book hard making a loud echoing bang.

"See you after the match, you had best win too. I won't kiss a looser." She turned and stormed off with her head held way high. Fantastic the plan was in motion it was time to bring his plan finally into full swing at last. He win Hermione back, he win the wager and also the big game and shame all the snakes in the process it was going to be bloody brilliant.

Ron, riding high on a chorus of "Weasley is Our King," took to the sky and spun to guard the goals with a little flourish, making the Gryffindor supporters roar. His heart was racing with adrenaline and his confidence was higher than it had ever been. He really was a good keeper! He didn't need a potion, he just needed to believe he could do it- and believe he did!

Ron blocked shot after shot sent his way by the Slytherins, never missing, even when he had to race to the furthest ring and dive-nearly leaving his broom- to save it. He grinned ear-to-ear as they sang his song again! Harry was a really excellent friend, Ron reflected, as the black-haired seeker raced by him, reciting the lyrics in his rather off-key tenor. He knew exactly how to help Ron gain confidence- become a winner. Maybe he'd buy Harry some sweets at Hogsmede...

Deafening shouts raised up from the stands and Ron caught site of Harry with the snitch in his fist, held high in the air. He swooped around the pitch once, and when he reached Ron he slowed, reached his hand out, and pressed the snitch into Ron's hand. Ron slapped Harry on the back, smiling widely, then held the snitch up as well, racing toward the stands where still another chorus of "Weasley is Our King" sounded. Ron was on top of the world.

Once he was finished taking in the cheers of the crowd, he turned and saw Pansy, sitting on the boarder between the slytherins and the Gryffindors, her house mates making their way out of the stands. She was looking at him and smiling- a calm spot amidst the chaos. He guided his broom toward her, the entire stands watching, and landed right beside her on a bench recently vacated by Pansy's friends.

He looked down at her, held out his hand, and raised an eyebrow. Are we going to do this? He wondered.

She stared back at him, still grinning, before taking his hand, allowing him to pull her up beside him on the bench, and leaning into him. Their lips met more gently this time than before, in spite of the energy around them, and Ron was certain she was enjoying this as much as he was. After several long moments they broke apart, Ron's hands still firm against Pansy's lower back. Their eyes met, and Pansy's skin burned pink before she looked down and away.

The crowed around them continued to shout and cheer. When Ron finally looked around, he was surprised that nobody seemed to have noticed them, nobody except for Seamus, Dean, and Neville who were shoving each other and pointing.

"Well. I-" Pansy started, then cleared her throat. "I better get going."

He let his hands fall from around her waist, scratching the back of his neck as she started making her way down the row.

"Wait!" He shouted, taking a step toward her. She stopped and turned, an eyebrow raised. "Will you go to Hogsmede with me? Please?"

She looked around at the crowd, but not back at her friends who were waiting at the end of the aisle with looks of shock, before glancing back at him. "Sure," she said with a smile before turning to run into her crowd of friends who quickly surrounded her, shouting questions as they made their way toward the exit.

Ron smiled. This was possibly the best day he had ever had...

The morning of the Hogsmeade visit dawned bright and clear, despite the chill in the air. The students crowded around the entrance hall as they waited for Filch to check his list to ensure that everyone had permission to visit the village.

Ron stood awkwardly off to the side by himself as he waited for Pansy, the other two members of the golden trio hanging around the Ferret. He glanced over his shoulder where Longbottom, Thomas and Finnegan all stood. He turned back around just as the crowd parted and Pansy emerged from the stairs that led to the dungeons. Ron's breath hitched in his throat when he noticed the tight fitting green t-shirt that showed off her body.

With confidence, Pansy strolled right up to Ron and hugged him. Before either could do anything else, Finnegan stepped forward and thrust a money pouch into Ron's hand.

"Here, you won the bet fair and square. You can use these galleons and take the ice queen somewhere special."

"Seamus, can we talk later?" Ron asked desperately.

"Bet? What bet?" Pansy asked.

"It's nothing," Ron lied as his ears burned red. He tried to tug Pansy away, but she planted her feet and stood her ground.

"What bet?" She repeated.

"Ron made a bet with myself, Thomas and Longbottom that he could get any girl in the school. We made you the target," Finnegan said.

"YOU USED ME FOR A BET?!" Pansy screamed. The whole hall went quiet and Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously.

The sound of the slap echoed through the hall as Pansy stormed away. "Way to go, ya git!" Ron hissed at Seamus. As he turned to follow Pansy, he almost ran straight into Malfoy. "Get out of my way" Ron urged as he tried to weave around the Slytherin. "And just where do you think you're going Weasley?" Malfoy asked with a sneer. "If you think I'm going to let you try to go after Pansy after that, you're dead wrong. It's not like she would ever ACTUALLY like you anyways!" Ron looked away as Malfoy's words cut into him. "Ha! Are you serious? You really thought that anybody could like you? How pathetic..." Malfoy chuckled as he walked away. Ron felt his ears turn red. This day started out so great, how could everything have gone so wrong

Ron made to go back towards Pansy, trying to pass Malfoy again, but was stopped by a blow to his chest. "I SAID ... " growled Malfoy, as Hermione walked up to the pair. "What's going on, boys?" she said, emphasizing the last word, as she stared from one to the other. "Nothing", they said simultaneously, while glaring at each other. Looking skeptical, Hermione tried again. "What was that with Pansy?" "NOTHING" again in unison, with matching grimaces on their faces.

Ron was really having a wretched day. It had started out with such promise! He genuinely felt bad about Pansy, as well as more than a little embarrassed, he was angry at the Ferret sticking his nose into this, and now he was sure he could feel 'Mione's disgust with him, and he could only hope she was just as disgusted with Malfoy as with him.

Giving up the day as a wash, Ron turned to go ... And nearly ran over another Slytherin beauty, Astoria Greengrass, who had been standing right behind him. "Uh, excuse me." Ron stammered. But Astoria wasn't looking at him - her eyes were fixed on Draco, who was staring back at her with interest, as Hermione, turning red, watched the exchange. Looking from Astoria to Draco and back again, Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. She stepped around Draco, put both her hands on Ron's shoulders, turning him to face her. "Any other 'bets' going on that I should know about?" she whispered, proving once again that Hermione was no ones fool. Before Ron could answer, she had planted her lips on his and, as if they had a mind of their own, his arms went around her back and his heart felt like it was going to explode, but Ron felt he would die happy if it did. Pulling away after a long minute, Hermione linked her arm through Ron's and started walking away, towing Ron along with her, without so much as a backwards glance at Malfoy, who had been momentarily distracted from Astoria's adoring gaze. "Feel like going to Hogsmeade, 'Mione?" Ron managed to ask, as he matched his steps to hers. "I thought you'd never ask, Ron Weasley", said Hermione with a smile.

And the rest, as they say, is history!