To Trust Ron.
Chapter Four
Disclaimer: JK = original stuff, me = weird new thingies.
**
Ron carelessly flung his robes and soggy umbrella through the doorway of his bedroom and thumped into the little kitchen.
Hermione followed him in, then closed the door behind her and removed her coat and hung it on the peg at the back of the door with her robes.
Their apartment was not a very large one, but they were comfortable in it. It had three bedrooms, a kitchen (which also served as a dining room), two bathrooms and a lounge-cum-study.
Hermione's room was right next to the apartment door and was of a light shade of lilac. One wall was covered with photographs of her friends and family, another with a large painting she herself had painted of a white Persian and the other two were spanned with large light-wood shelves with all her books, stationary, medals and certificates. There was a neat little bed with a purple flowery bedcover in a corner and an off-white carpet. On the large window at the back of the room sat a large pot of poppies and directly underneath the window was her desk. Sunlight flooded the room for most of the day and a large straw hat was hung over her closet.
Ron's, on the other hand, was totally different from Hermione's tidy abode.
His was a room was quite like his old one in the Burrow. I guess old habits die hard. The room had bright orange walls, each crammed with posters of the 'Chudley Cannons through the ages' and pictures of him and his friends at various Quiditch matches. There was a large, brightly colored Romanian rug weaved with all the fiery tones on the floor and his bed was a large mahogany one. Needless to say it was incredibly cluttered, but one thing could be said: it had plenty of character.
Ron reentered the navy-blue lounge with a can of Butterbeer in his hand and grabbing the remote, settled down to make fun of a muggle program, Sabrina the Teenage Witch.
Frowning, Hermione stood uncertainly behind him as he laughed at the way Muggles thought of their kind.
'Should I tell him off? I am pretty mad… the way he acted at Harry's place! Like he'd never seen a pretty girl before! Totally ignored me! I guess I should…'
Making up her mind, she
deliberately avoided sitting next to Ron on the couch, and instead sat down on
the armchair opposite him.
Before she could even open her mouth, Ron looked at her eagerly and smiling
idiotically said: "Hey, Hermione, wasn't Li cool? Harry's one heck of a lucky
guy! I mean, have you ever seen a prettier girl? Where does he find
these girls?"
Hermione looked straight back at him, stupefied.
Ron looked back at her like a puppy waiting for his treat for performing a clever trick.
"Aargh!" cried Hermione, standing up and looking down on a bewildered Ron. "Ron, you are such a-a buffoon! How can you talk to me like this?" she asked, her voice going squeaky. "Fine, we're friends, we're roommates, we're co-workers," continued Hermione, in a steadier voice and pacing around the room, her hands tied behind her back. "But we're also- we're also…" she stopped, glared at Ron and helplessly prompted him to complete her sentence.
Ran swallowed and nervously replied: "Best friends? Really, really good friends?"
Hermione stood transfixed in her spot, her mouth open.
"At least," she croaked. "You could have said girlfriend and boyfriend!"
"Well, that does amount to the same thing," said Ron matter-of-factly, but seeing Hermione's face turn scarlet, he quickly asked: "Don't you think? No? Well, I think I'll go for a… walk…"
Jumping to his feet, he hurriedly flung on his coat and made a run for the apartment door.
He was almost there… two feet left… one foot… he's made it… he's turning the handle, the wind chimes clink…
"JUST HOLD ON THERE!"
"No…" sighed Ron, turning around slowly, only to face Hermione with her hands on her hips.
"We need to talk," she said gravely, dragging him away from the door, tickling him so that he would lose his hold on the doorframe he was clamped on to.
The door closed behind their retreating backs.
*
"So, how is your stupid roommate now?" snickered Harry over the line.
"Well, he's pretty much okay," answered Hermione in a hushed voice, twirling the phone wire in her fingers.
She stood talking to Harry in the kitchen and was trying to keep hidden from Ron who was in his room, busy reading comics.
"Well, that's good… you guys have a knack of getting into huge arguments… remember when it was the Yule Ball? I mean that was one huge fight! I'd thought you guys would never…"
"Yeah yeah," muttered Hermione, blushing, cutting him off.
"But, Harry," she wailed in a woebegone voice. "That just proves to me how…how not ready he is for a real… you know… relationship…" she said hurriedly, blushing even more furiously.
"Well, Herm, I don't think you oughtta push it. Ron just wants to get at the top of his department these days. It's his aim. You havta let him reach that and then do something. Give him time! And keep in mind that he considers you his best friend too. That's why he told you about Lillian! I know I wouldn't tell my girlfriend about another girl… but then again, I don't wear neon orange earmuffs on my nose to keep it cozy…"
"I geddit! I geddit!" laughed Hermione, feeling better. "You're right, y'know. I guess I shouldn't be so uptight. Ron is pretty much a kid still!" Hermione answered, her eyes growing soft. "Thanks! You're very smart, you know? And you really made me feel better,"
"Don't worry 'bout it,
Herm. And take care of yourself and him, k? He needs you more than he lets on,"
reassured Harry and rung off.
Hermione eyes grew a soft light about them as she replaced the receiver and saw
the couple on the TV walk away down a street, hand in hand. She blinked slowly
and sighing, hugged herself.
"Ah-ahem,"
Raising her eyelashes, Hermione saw Ron in the doorway and smiled sweetly at him.
"Hi, Ron," she said dreamily, still watching her soap opera through the kitchen window.
Ron scraped the chair loudly on the floor and grumpily flung himself on the chair, making her jump.
"So," he growled. "Who was that? You were pretty friendly with that guy," he remarked.
"Huh?" asked Hermione, puzzled. "On the phone?"
He nodded vehemently.
Hermione was about to say, "Harry of course!" but managed to stop herself. "How'd you know it was a he?" she asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing.
The couple on TV was now talking about the importance of trust in a relationship.
"Well, I…" struggled Ron, his ears bright red. "I… accidentally… turned on… the …speakerphone… outside…" he muttered. "But the important thing is: who was he? After all that about trust and stuff, you oughtta tell me before you call guys, y'know!" he snapped.
"Ron," said Hermione slowly and trying to keep in temper in control. "That 'guy' happened to be our best friend… a male named Harry Potter, who was telling me to be nice to you!"
Ron buried his head in his hands. "O boy…" he mumbled.
The couple on TV was now declaring their everlasting love to each other.
"Shut up!" snapped Hermione at the oblivious pair and angrily turned off the television. "And you," she bestowed one of her worst looks on Ron. "Are im-po-ssi-ble!"
Ron inwardly cringed as he heard the angry slam of her door.
**
