Here In Me
PrincessKayte
Author's Note: Apologizes for this being so short, I promise chapter four, the first of the second part, will be longer and will explain what happens in this!
~*~
Part One
Awakening
~*~
Chapter Three
~*~
Ron's brain was fighting with his body as Hermione dragged him down a darkened corridor. He thought he put up a gallant struggle.
"Come on, 'Mi, what if someone catches us? Filch is notorious for-"
"Be quiet, Ron, Filch is not going to catch us." She dragged the boy along behind her in silence, and Ron gave up. He fought inside of his head, still. 'How the hell'd she find out about Harry?' his voice griped. 'No one was supposed to know. I bet Ginny did tell her- but how the hell'd Ginny know? NO ONE was supposed to know, and I doubt very much weather Fred or George told her.'
'What makes you so sure about that, Weasley,' that same selfish part of his brain was angry. 'She is interested in Harry. You know that, Fred knows that, and obviously, George knows that too. Why wouldn't they warn her? They love her and don't you want her to be happy? They do also, same as you.'
'Well, they love me too,' Ron thought crossly. 'I know they do, I know I don't know Fred as well as I ought to, but I know George loves me.'
'Why should famous and glorious Harry Potter be stuck with someone like you,' the voice shot back, 'When he could have a beautiful witch like Ginny?'
That struck a nerve. While Ron didn't consider himself bad-looking, he knew in his heart that Ginny far outshined him. She had curly ringlets of fire-red hair cascading to brush her shoulder blades, which she usually had tied back in a ponytail of some sorts; she had clear blue eyes¤ that sparkled like the sky, or the lake on a clear spring day. She was small, compact, and rounded, with curves like an hourglass. Even Draco Malfoy, who hated the Weasleys, could not help but stare, slack-jawed, at Ginny when she attended the Yule Ball that year (she had been accompanied by Colin Creevy).
'That isn't fair,' Ron shot back at his voice, but the voice just chuckled darkly. 'Give up,' it told him. 'You know that Harry will never want you.' "We're here," Hermione announced to the glowering Ron. The voice retreated.
"Um, Hermione?" Ron looked sideways at his friend. "This is Flitwick's classroom."
"I know that," she said, shaking her head, brown waves falling about her shoulders. "Just come on in and I'll show you." The two walked inside of the classroom, and Hermione sealed the door with a conterspell to prevent it being opened by 'Alohamora'. Ron turned his head and found himself face to face with an old, decorative mirror.
"Oh no," Ron said, nervous laughter in his voice. "No way in hell, Hermione."
"God, Ron, what are you AFRIAD of?"
"Do you know what this thing does? It only shows the deepest desires of our hearts. Nothing more."
"Ron," she said, like she was explaining something to a little child. "This is not the Mirror of Erised."
"Well, then it must be its twin brother, because the things are bloody identical."
"You wouldn't be caught dead saying that about Fred and George."
"Are you telling me that the mirrors are like my brothers?" Ron looked at her like she was a raving idiot.
"No," she sighed, exasperated. "This is not, again, the Mirror of Erised, which I have never stood before but have heard about numerous times." This was true. Harry and Ron had given her a blow-by-blow account about the mirror back in their first Christmas Holiday, and later that same year, Harry had told them what happened in the chamber under the school, with Quirrel, and with You-Know-Who, and the Philosopher's Stone. "This is the Mirror of Emocot."
"What?" Ron stared at her, she only nodded. "What the hell does that mean?" Ron had never been told what the Mirror of Erised did. Hermione knew this from Harry. She shrugged.
"I have no idea, but when I stand in front of it, you see things."
"And what do YOU see?"
"You, Harry and I having defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all."
"Uh-huh," Ron shuddered at the name. "And what does that gibberish say up there?"
"'Emocot teysi tahw tub ecaf rouy wohs tonod liltsi.'" Hermione replied promptly.
"I'll be damned if I know how to pronounce that again," Ron said, stepping up to the mirror. Hermione waited patiently until she heard him gasp.
"What is it?" Ron looked blankly from Hermione, back to the Mirror, then back to Hermione again. His brown eyes slowly filled with tears and he bolted from the room.
~*~
"Hey, Fred."
"Mmm,"
"Fred!" George hit the boy over the head with his wand.
"Geroff! What the hell d'you want, George?"
"I've been thinking,"
"People tend to do that," Fred replied, with a pat on George's head.
"Not that way, you git. I've been thinking about Ron. What do you think's wrong with him?"
"Ickle Ronnikins? Oh, nothing besides the fact that his father abandoned his family and that he's in love with one of the most famous people in our world, not to mention said famous person is his best friend and also male, and that said famous best friend is also fancying his little sister, who fancies that person in return, and the fact that we can't get him to see that we're only trying to help, but he's still getting his poor little Weasley heart stomped on." Fred took a breath. "Absolutely nothing is wrong with Ron, George."
"Very funny," George glared at his twin. "Harry does NOT fancy Ginny."
"Look, you can tell me the truth."
"I.well, I don't know, I'd have to ask Harry."
"Bad idea," Fred warned, looking up at George out of his blue eyes. "He'll be all, 'oh, why do you lot want to know?" And we'll have to be, 'Because, Harry, Ron fancies you but he's too shy and scared of rejection to say, and he thinks you fancies Ginny, and is that true?' And that will lead to messy situations."
"I didn't mean like that," George sighed, "but I think you have a point."
"'Course I have a point," he said brightly. "I always have a point."
"Not always a point, but you've usually got something hard to compensate for your lack of a point."
"Touché."
"I try." George rolled onto his stomach; Lee was snoring loudly, his tarantula on his chest.
"I don't believe it!" Fred groaned, "That great bloody thing sleeps when he does!"
"Better be careful," George warned. "If Lee hears you calling.uh."
"Bile," Fred added helpfully.
"Thanks," George replied. "If Lee catches you calling Bile a bloody great spidy again he'll kick you, and you'll have another bruise to match that one on your shin."
"And Lee wears cleats."
"Is he still trying to scratch up the floor to give Filch a heart attack?" Fred replied solemnly:
"Brother of mine, if I 'ad a pair of cleats, I would be too."
~*~
¤: I am aware that Ginny actually has brown eyes as well, but I wanted to stay with the Weasley Theory, established by my friend Aryana and I. The Theory goes: All the tall Weasleys have the brown eyes of Arthur, all the more compact, stocky Weasleys carry that blue-eyed gene from Molly. Hence:
Bill has brown eyes, Charlie has blue; Percy, brown, Fred and George, blue, Ron, brown and (technically) Ginny has brown eyes as well, but I prefer a curvy Ginny to a gangly one, because as I picture her, she is a miniature Mrs. Weasley. This is, of course, just artistic license on my part.
PrincessKayte
Author's Note: Apologizes for this being so short, I promise chapter four, the first of the second part, will be longer and will explain what happens in this!
~*~
Part One
Awakening
~*~
Chapter Three
~*~
Ron's brain was fighting with his body as Hermione dragged him down a darkened corridor. He thought he put up a gallant struggle.
"Come on, 'Mi, what if someone catches us? Filch is notorious for-"
"Be quiet, Ron, Filch is not going to catch us." She dragged the boy along behind her in silence, and Ron gave up. He fought inside of his head, still. 'How the hell'd she find out about Harry?' his voice griped. 'No one was supposed to know. I bet Ginny did tell her- but how the hell'd Ginny know? NO ONE was supposed to know, and I doubt very much weather Fred or George told her.'
'What makes you so sure about that, Weasley,' that same selfish part of his brain was angry. 'She is interested in Harry. You know that, Fred knows that, and obviously, George knows that too. Why wouldn't they warn her? They love her and don't you want her to be happy? They do also, same as you.'
'Well, they love me too,' Ron thought crossly. 'I know they do, I know I don't know Fred as well as I ought to, but I know George loves me.'
'Why should famous and glorious Harry Potter be stuck with someone like you,' the voice shot back, 'When he could have a beautiful witch like Ginny?'
That struck a nerve. While Ron didn't consider himself bad-looking, he knew in his heart that Ginny far outshined him. She had curly ringlets of fire-red hair cascading to brush her shoulder blades, which she usually had tied back in a ponytail of some sorts; she had clear blue eyes¤ that sparkled like the sky, or the lake on a clear spring day. She was small, compact, and rounded, with curves like an hourglass. Even Draco Malfoy, who hated the Weasleys, could not help but stare, slack-jawed, at Ginny when she attended the Yule Ball that year (she had been accompanied by Colin Creevy).
'That isn't fair,' Ron shot back at his voice, but the voice just chuckled darkly. 'Give up,' it told him. 'You know that Harry will never want you.' "We're here," Hermione announced to the glowering Ron. The voice retreated.
"Um, Hermione?" Ron looked sideways at his friend. "This is Flitwick's classroom."
"I know that," she said, shaking her head, brown waves falling about her shoulders. "Just come on in and I'll show you." The two walked inside of the classroom, and Hermione sealed the door with a conterspell to prevent it being opened by 'Alohamora'. Ron turned his head and found himself face to face with an old, decorative mirror.
"Oh no," Ron said, nervous laughter in his voice. "No way in hell, Hermione."
"God, Ron, what are you AFRIAD of?"
"Do you know what this thing does? It only shows the deepest desires of our hearts. Nothing more."
"Ron," she said, like she was explaining something to a little child. "This is not the Mirror of Erised."
"Well, then it must be its twin brother, because the things are bloody identical."
"You wouldn't be caught dead saying that about Fred and George."
"Are you telling me that the mirrors are like my brothers?" Ron looked at her like she was a raving idiot.
"No," she sighed, exasperated. "This is not, again, the Mirror of Erised, which I have never stood before but have heard about numerous times." This was true. Harry and Ron had given her a blow-by-blow account about the mirror back in their first Christmas Holiday, and later that same year, Harry had told them what happened in the chamber under the school, with Quirrel, and with You-Know-Who, and the Philosopher's Stone. "This is the Mirror of Emocot."
"What?" Ron stared at her, she only nodded. "What the hell does that mean?" Ron had never been told what the Mirror of Erised did. Hermione knew this from Harry. She shrugged.
"I have no idea, but when I stand in front of it, you see things."
"And what do YOU see?"
"You, Harry and I having defeated Lord Voldemort once and for all."
"Uh-huh," Ron shuddered at the name. "And what does that gibberish say up there?"
"'Emocot teysi tahw tub ecaf rouy wohs tonod liltsi.'" Hermione replied promptly.
"I'll be damned if I know how to pronounce that again," Ron said, stepping up to the mirror. Hermione waited patiently until she heard him gasp.
"What is it?" Ron looked blankly from Hermione, back to the Mirror, then back to Hermione again. His brown eyes slowly filled with tears and he bolted from the room.
~*~
"Hey, Fred."
"Mmm,"
"Fred!" George hit the boy over the head with his wand.
"Geroff! What the hell d'you want, George?"
"I've been thinking,"
"People tend to do that," Fred replied, with a pat on George's head.
"Not that way, you git. I've been thinking about Ron. What do you think's wrong with him?"
"Ickle Ronnikins? Oh, nothing besides the fact that his father abandoned his family and that he's in love with one of the most famous people in our world, not to mention said famous person is his best friend and also male, and that said famous best friend is also fancying his little sister, who fancies that person in return, and the fact that we can't get him to see that we're only trying to help, but he's still getting his poor little Weasley heart stomped on." Fred took a breath. "Absolutely nothing is wrong with Ron, George."
"Very funny," George glared at his twin. "Harry does NOT fancy Ginny."
"Look, you can tell me the truth."
"I.well, I don't know, I'd have to ask Harry."
"Bad idea," Fred warned, looking up at George out of his blue eyes. "He'll be all, 'oh, why do you lot want to know?" And we'll have to be, 'Because, Harry, Ron fancies you but he's too shy and scared of rejection to say, and he thinks you fancies Ginny, and is that true?' And that will lead to messy situations."
"I didn't mean like that," George sighed, "but I think you have a point."
"'Course I have a point," he said brightly. "I always have a point."
"Not always a point, but you've usually got something hard to compensate for your lack of a point."
"Touché."
"I try." George rolled onto his stomach; Lee was snoring loudly, his tarantula on his chest.
"I don't believe it!" Fred groaned, "That great bloody thing sleeps when he does!"
"Better be careful," George warned. "If Lee hears you calling.uh."
"Bile," Fred added helpfully.
"Thanks," George replied. "If Lee catches you calling Bile a bloody great spidy again he'll kick you, and you'll have another bruise to match that one on your shin."
"And Lee wears cleats."
"Is he still trying to scratch up the floor to give Filch a heart attack?" Fred replied solemnly:
"Brother of mine, if I 'ad a pair of cleats, I would be too."
~*~
¤: I am aware that Ginny actually has brown eyes as well, but I wanted to stay with the Weasley Theory, established by my friend Aryana and I. The Theory goes: All the tall Weasleys have the brown eyes of Arthur, all the more compact, stocky Weasleys carry that blue-eyed gene from Molly. Hence:
Bill has brown eyes, Charlie has blue; Percy, brown, Fred and George, blue, Ron, brown and (technically) Ginny has brown eyes as well, but I prefer a curvy Ginny to a gangly one, because as I picture her, she is a miniature Mrs. Weasley. This is, of course, just artistic license on my part.