Prefect Rounds (once again)
(Hermione)
The sixth evening of her and Ron's prefect rounds was elected to serve not only their usual, school-concerning tasks, but also to talk to a few people about their new secret plan. Their very own Defence against the Dark Arts - project.
Or rather, her very own Defence against the Dark Arts – project, come to think of it.
Ron wasn't really keen on labelling the whole thing as their idea, now that Harry had thrown such a tantrum at them, the first evening she'd suggested it. Nevertheless, Ron agreed with her, she knew. Harry had done impressive and amazing things already, for someone of their age. And if there was no adult to be found to do a proper job on teaching them some way of magical self-defence, then Harry was their best option.
Tonight, she and Ron had started patrolling the slowly darkening corridors and staircases of the castle way earlier than necessary, when people were still crossing their way every few minutes.
Whenever they met a few classmates who seemed trustworthy, she'd quickly glance at Ron, asking him non-verbally for his view on the matter. Depending on his features, she'd merely carry on and tell people to make their way back into their respective common rooms, please,- or she'd pull them aside, (Ron quickly following next to her,) and would nervously say: "Hey, uh, can we maybe talk to you about something for a minute? It's about Umbridge..."
But now it was way past nine once again, and Hermione doubted that she and Ron would be able to recruit even more people for the whole crazy plan, tonight.
"Doesn't matter really, right?", Ron answered with a lazy sort of grin, when she mentioned this to him, "We already did quite a good job, didn't we?"
Hermione reciprocated his smile, a giddy sort of pride and excitement filling her. "Yes, we did. This whole thing might actually work..."
And then it was quiet again, the soft pattering of their shoes across the flagging the only sound to be heard.
She liked those moments of silence with him.
Currently, prefect rounds were always taking longer than they had to, but somehow neither of them had mentioned it so far... He surely thought she was just interested in doing well as a prefect, but then again, she hadn't suggested for them to split up and look through all the rooms separately, like some of the other prefects apparently did, now, had she?
So maybe, Ron knew that she enjoyed spending all this time with him. Was that a good thing, or should it scare her?
And why was he not in the slightest concerned about the extra time they lost by taking things slow? By being hyper-careful when controlling Hogwarts' deserted hallways at night? Didn't he normally yearn for as much spare time for relaxation and wizard chess and exploding snaps as he could possibly get out of each day?
Perhaps, he liked to spend time with her on their prefect rounds like this as well, Hermione pondered...
Or,- and this sudden thought filled her with the most ugliest sense of embarrassment,- maybe he knew that she liked to spend time with him on their prefect rounds like this, and just didn't want to affront her! Gosh, if that was the reason for his calm, exemplary behaviour, then...-
"You okay?", he asked, waving his hand in front of her face. She barely refrained from gasping.
"Sure, Ron! Just a little lost in thought."
"What kind of thought?", he laughed, curious. His eyes were sparkling. "I think I just saw you cringing!"
She shrugged, smiling lightly while eyeing him smugly. "And what makes you think that me cringing has something to do with what I'm thinking? Maybe I just had a sore muscle, or something."
"Do you?", he asked, sounding politely interested.
"No, actually I don't."
"Then you should really tell me what you're thinking about. Now I'm curious."
"Maybe you could try to be curious about other things than why I'm cringing.", she grinned. "How about that article we read in transformation today? That one was fantastic!"
"You're getting really excited about this whole turning-animals-into-books thing, aren't you?"
"It is pretty exciting.", she mentioned, matter-of-factly, and they both laughed.
"Oh", was his comment, at the same time opening a broom closet "Okay."
She lit her wand and climbed over a few bulky brooms and oversized bottles of magical cleaning agents, pointing the bright tip inside of the tiny room... Sure, that was pretty ridiculous. No one was obviously hiding in here, and what other sort of unusual things were there to be found in a broom closet at this hour? Fred and George weren't reckless enough to hide their illegal humbug that carelessly, either.
But this was just one of her silly little techniques to enlarge their evenings slightly. She should probably stop that, she realised. But hadn't it been he who had opened the door?
As she emerged again, he was looking at her quite intensely, and she could feel her cheeks redden. "What?", she asked, hiding her insecurity behind slight annoyance.
A picture flashed through her mind though, ever so quickly, the weirdest wish for him to open that broom closet again, and to pull her in with him...
They might stumble over some cleaning articles in the dark, but he'd just press her against him...
Trap her against the wall..
Reaching for her face to lower his own to her lips...
Crushing them with his...
Hot breath on her skin and his fingers loosening her robes and...
She blinked a few times, recovering from a sudden wave of heat.
"Sorry, what?", she repeated, dumbly, and this time she didn't sound annoyed any more, despite trying. She just sounded stupid.
"I didn't say anything.", Ron muttered, a bewildered smile tugging the corners of his mouth up. That instant, the door at the other side of the hallway opened, revealing a busy looking Professor Grubbly-Plank. Nodding shortly in their direction, the Professor made her way through the corridor and disappeared again behind them through the door at the other end of it. So much for the illusion of being isolated inhere with Ron, Hermione thought... Really, they were not that alone at all. Stuff like this could happen all the time, students and teachers could cross their way constantly, no matter how late or early it was.
Which was good. Concentrating on this simple fact took some of the light-headedness away that Ron recently seemed to be able to cause in her.
"Do you think we should set Harry under a silencing charm, next time he's around Umbridge?", he wanted to know, staring at the door Professor Grubbly-Plank had just used.
"Why? Because he's already reached a point where he does not even have to be in Umbridge's class any more, in order to get her to punish him?", she muttered, eyebrows creasing.
"Spot on. I kind of calculated this through, before, you know?", Ron stated, pretending to ignore her amused expression, "We've got four hours of Defence against the Dark Arts each week, two of them being a double lesson, which means three days each week with Umbridge. If Harry continues to be in such a mood around her, he'll probably end up in her office at least twice a week, right? I mean, he's basically going nuts every second lesson with her, isn't he?"
Hermione nodded, wondering where this was going.
Ron continued, "So, since you told me about the whole effect of Dittany essence, and after seeing how much it actually helps, I thought that Umbridge couldn't really cause any kind of permanent harm to Harry. The cuts are getting a little deeper and stuff, but twice a week is not that often. But now that he's seeing her even in other teachers' lessons..."
"You mean, she might get really dangerous?"
"Dunno.", Ron shrugged, "She doesn't seem to have a problem with violence, does she? What if she's getting even worse over time, and doesn't stop after slicing open his wrist, one night?"
"What I don't get is that Harry's just not talking to Dumbledore about it! They seemed so close to me, last year, Harry and Dumbledore... It was like he was Harry's mentor or something, wasn't it?"
Ron nodded, concernedly. "And now it's like Harry's trying to avoid him all the time... Or vice versa..."
"How could Dumbledore even have let this happen? How could someone like Umbridge become a teacher here, - a Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, of all things!- after what happened last year?", Hermione muttered, sounding pretty scared to herself at that.
"Well," Ron started, "maybe this is just one of the situations in which we just have to trust Dumbledore's brains, or something... You know, like you always tell me to do when I'm annoyed at him for trusting Snape."
Hermione thought about this for a moment, slightly surprised at Ron for so calmly mentioning one of their favourite bickering topics. "Hm.", she murmured, "I hadn't seen it that way, before."
"It might be a little different here, though", Ron went on, "I think Dumbledore's really trusting Snape, if he's letting him in on the Order... With Umbridge... Well, maybe Dumbledore didn't have any other choice than to let her work here? The ministry is bolloks, after all..."
Hermione laughed. Then, she felt the need to voice something else, that she's been wanting to say to him for days...
"Ron, I..", she started, suddenly nervous, as his eyes met her face sideways, in the flickering light of the wall torches, "I'm really sorry about that letter Percy send you, last week... And I think you're being a great friend to Harry, you know,.. for not even pausing a second..."
She thought about how Ron had ripped his brother's letter, so determinedly.. He'd never turn his back on Harry; on what was right, not even for a part of his own family. Not even for the promise of a great and successful career...
Hermione knew that Ron had envied his brother Percy sometimes, just like he was envying all his other brothers often enough.
Ron wanted to be different,- smarter, better at Quidditch, better at school or better at one of those other, many things that Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred or George had accomplished. Ron would love to have more money, one day; to not have to wear second-hand clothes and the self-made, maroon jumpers from his mum, all the time, and not to be looked down upon by people like Malfoy any more.
But what really mattered to him in the long run, what really made him Ron, were moments like that... Him, sitting there with his older brother's envelope in his fist, shredding it to pieces out of loyalty to Harry and to his parents.. At the end of the day, - after making rude comments about Kreacher, and after talking with tons of food in his mouth, and after interrupting Harry's conversations with Cho Chang over something as unimportant as a Quidditch fan batch on her robes, - Ron Weasley would always do the right thing.
His ears were a burning Gryffindor-red when she looked up. He was rubbing his neck with one freckled hand, a bit embarrassed probably, but she didn't share that sentiment right now. Ron deserved to hear at least a tiny fraction of what she thought of him, sometimes, despite her many selfish concerns about revealing too much.
"Thanks", he muttered, smiling, and put his hand away from his neck.
Had his hands always seemed quite as.. strong?
Gosh, stop it, Hermione!
Maybe it was just that,- the way he'd do little things that made her heart beat faster, and the way they shared private thoughts and worries in deserted hallways, these days, that caused all the bickering, as well... Perhaps, fighting with each other was a valve for a pent-up longing for something entirely else... For something like this. For so much more of it...
And it might also be the reason for his behaviour the other day. When she'd mentioned Viktor in a casual conversation, resulting in Ron glaring her way for several hours, afterwards. It was annoying and at the same time terribly interesting to think about her words having such an influence on him. And when he'd asked her if she was still in contact with Viktor... Ron had seemed so jealous once again, so possessive of her. In hindsight, she'd also acted pretty defensive, playing things down and ignoring Ron's confused and upset behaviour..
"He didn't just want to be your pen-pal.", he'd said, ever-so accusingly...
To an outsider, it might have looked as if she and Ron were more than best friends; as if they'd already sorted everything out that stood between them and knew what exactly what they were to each other, instead of this.
But they were moving in the right direction, weren't they?
Last year, Ron's jealousy had sounded different. Not quite as straight-forward.
He wasn't talking any more about how Victor must have had hidden, other intentions when inviting her to the Yule Ball,- by now, Ron was aware of the fact that she hadn't been used as a tool for gaining Turnament-information; he finally seemed to get that Victor had truly been romantically interested in her,- and that was exactly what annoyed Ron.
There seemed to be an unexpressed understanding between them now; a silent promise of something else.
Perhaps, she was just imagining it.
Perhaps, she was just fooling herself, when believing in a future that was filled with what she longed for, between them...
But perhaps, she wasn't fooling herself at all...
A.N.: Didn't really have time to proofread this, I hope it's not too bad.. ^°