**Hey! This is my first fanfic to put on here, so if you review, keep that
in mind. None of these characters or anything belong to me, it's all the
wonderful work of J.K. Rowling, so please don't sue! This is Ron's reaction
to Rita Skeeter's article about Hermione, so the things people say are
taken from the book, as is the article, but the rest is all me (or Ron,
rather). Please review! I need criticism and encouragement.**
Ever since the Yule Ball, I have had this funny feeling in my gut. As if Pigwidgeon was fluttering around down there. And this certain feeling seems to come at specific times, like when Hermione happens to be around. No, no, let me rephrase all that, it sounds wrong. She's just my friend! I mean, more as if Pigwidgeon is down in my gut flapping his wings and pecking away at me, the little bugger. Seeing Hermione with Krum makes me angry, almost as angry as Malfoy makes me sometimes. Honestly, how would you feel if your best friend started dating some half-wit from that Dark Arts School, Durmstrang, who just happened to be competing against your other best friend in a huge tournament? Of course, Hermione kind of proved me wrong on that point when we had a huge row after the ball, but I'm still angry. I am just trying to hold it back for our friendship's sake.
The whole fluttering feeling in my stomach was at its utmost worst the other day. Hermione, Harry, and I were on our merry way to our final lesson of the afternoon, double Potions (merry way, my arse!) when we saw Malfoy and his two lugs standing in a huddle outside the door. Pansy Parkinson and her slimy gang were with them as well. Something about Slytherin girls just makes me want to reconsider my sexual orientation. :::Shudder. Anyway, the whole lot was looking at something I couldn't see and sniggering heartily. We approached them, and Pansy (boy does she resemble a pug) peered up at us excitedly. This can't be good, I thought.
"There they are, there they are!" she giggled. Pansy thrust a magazine, Witch Weekly, at Hermione.
"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly. Harry, Hermione, and I headed to the back of the dungeons and claimed a table. As soon as Snape turned his filthy back around, Hermione began searching through the magazine until she found what Pansy was talking about. It was another article about Harry, written by that awful Rita Skeeter.
(**The following article is NOT written by me, it is all J.K. Rowling's, and can be found in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, page 511-512.)
"Harry Potter's Secret Heartache"
A boy like no other, perhaps-yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss. Miss Granger, a plan but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl." However it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest. "She's really ugly," says Pansy Parksinon, a pretty and vivacious fourth- year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it." Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
As soon as I was done reading, I let into her.
"I told you!" I hissed at Hermione, as she stared down at the article, most likely embarrassed. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of-of scarlet woman!" It feels so good when I can teach Hermione something.
Hermione stopped looking astonished though and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at me. I felt heat rising to my ears. It didn't help that she actually looks sort of cute when she giggles, the way her nose wrinkles up. Nothing close to plain and ugly as that bloody article said.
"It's what my mum calls them," I muttered, hoping she didn't see my embarrassment.
"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling (and still rather cute) as she threw Witch Weekly down beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."
She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry like a bunch of old buzzards, probably to see if the article had upset them. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and wave, and I chuckled. She, Harry, and I started taking out the ingredients we would need for the potion of the day. I pondered over Hermione's reaction to that Skeeter woman's article. It surprised me. Hermione was sure changing. If this had happened to her in our first year, she wouldn't have just blown it off. In fact, she probably would've run off crying to the girl's toilet. But we are fourteen now. People change, in so many ways.....
I thought we were off the subject, but 10 minutes later, Hermione brought it up again. Honestly, she can really dwell on things! Worrywart.
"There's something funny, though," she said, holding her pestle suspended over the bowl. "How could Rita Skeeter have known?". I gulped.
"Known what?' I said quickly. Pigwidgeon gave a flutter. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions have you?" Boy would that be going over the top with her brains! Misuse of power, I say.
"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped. I breathed a sigh of relief, which I usually don't do when she is rude to me. She continued, "No, it's just, how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"
"What??" I said, dropping my pestle and not realizing it until a few seconds later. I couldn't breathe. I knew that stupid lump liked her, but he actually invited her to stay with him? Invited her to his house? To his country??? Did that mean she wouldn't be coming to the Burrow at all this summer? Oh man, it felt like Pigwidgeon was going on a bloody rampage now!
"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake," Hermione muttered. I thought I was going to be sick. I stared at her, trying to suppress my jeal- er....my anger. Her big brown eyes wouldn't meet mine. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to-"
"And what did you say?" I asked in a strangely calm voice. I felt like my heart was pounding in my ears, and I couldn't stop looking at her. I reckon I must've been as red as my hair.
"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione said like she hadn't even heard me, going a lot redder than I was, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there.....or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task."
"And what did you say?" I repeated, louder this time. Harry nudged me, and I looked down and realized that I had been pounding my pestle on my desk so hard there were dent marks, very far away from my bowl. I'm going mad, I thought. Why do I care so much?
Hermione finally looked at me. "Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay..."
My heart leapt.
***Aww! The scene isn't over yet, read the next chapter. I think I'll just end it at Chapter 2; it's just sort of a glimpse into the past and not anything I'd want to turn into a long fic. Please review!!!!!***
Ever since the Yule Ball, I have had this funny feeling in my gut. As if Pigwidgeon was fluttering around down there. And this certain feeling seems to come at specific times, like when Hermione happens to be around. No, no, let me rephrase all that, it sounds wrong. She's just my friend! I mean, more as if Pigwidgeon is down in my gut flapping his wings and pecking away at me, the little bugger. Seeing Hermione with Krum makes me angry, almost as angry as Malfoy makes me sometimes. Honestly, how would you feel if your best friend started dating some half-wit from that Dark Arts School, Durmstrang, who just happened to be competing against your other best friend in a huge tournament? Of course, Hermione kind of proved me wrong on that point when we had a huge row after the ball, but I'm still angry. I am just trying to hold it back for our friendship's sake.
The whole fluttering feeling in my stomach was at its utmost worst the other day. Hermione, Harry, and I were on our merry way to our final lesson of the afternoon, double Potions (merry way, my arse!) when we saw Malfoy and his two lugs standing in a huddle outside the door. Pansy Parkinson and her slimy gang were with them as well. Something about Slytherin girls just makes me want to reconsider my sexual orientation. :::Shudder. Anyway, the whole lot was looking at something I couldn't see and sniggering heartily. We approached them, and Pansy (boy does she resemble a pug) peered up at us excitedly. This can't be good, I thought.
"There they are, there they are!" she giggled. Pansy thrust a magazine, Witch Weekly, at Hermione.
"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly. Harry, Hermione, and I headed to the back of the dungeons and claimed a table. As soon as Snape turned his filthy back around, Hermione began searching through the magazine until she found what Pansy was talking about. It was another article about Harry, written by that awful Rita Skeeter.
(**The following article is NOT written by me, it is all J.K. Rowling's, and can be found in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, page 511-512.)
"Harry Potter's Secret Heartache"
A boy like no other, perhaps-yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss. Miss Granger, a plan but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl." However it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest. "She's really ugly," says Pansy Parksinon, a pretty and vivacious fourth- year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it." Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
As soon as I was done reading, I let into her.
"I told you!" I hissed at Hermione, as she stared down at the article, most likely embarrassed. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of-of scarlet woman!" It feels so good when I can teach Hermione something.
Hermione stopped looking astonished though and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at me. I felt heat rising to my ears. It didn't help that she actually looks sort of cute when she giggles, the way her nose wrinkles up. Nothing close to plain and ugly as that bloody article said.
"It's what my mum calls them," I muttered, hoping she didn't see my embarrassment.
"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling (and still rather cute) as she threw Witch Weekly down beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."
She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry like a bunch of old buzzards, probably to see if the article had upset them. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and wave, and I chuckled. She, Harry, and I started taking out the ingredients we would need for the potion of the day. I pondered over Hermione's reaction to that Skeeter woman's article. It surprised me. Hermione was sure changing. If this had happened to her in our first year, she wouldn't have just blown it off. In fact, she probably would've run off crying to the girl's toilet. But we are fourteen now. People change, in so many ways.....
I thought we were off the subject, but 10 minutes later, Hermione brought it up again. Honestly, she can really dwell on things! Worrywart.
"There's something funny, though," she said, holding her pestle suspended over the bowl. "How could Rita Skeeter have known?". I gulped.
"Known what?' I said quickly. Pigwidgeon gave a flutter. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions have you?" Boy would that be going over the top with her brains! Misuse of power, I say.
"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped. I breathed a sigh of relief, which I usually don't do when she is rude to me. She continued, "No, it's just, how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"
"What??" I said, dropping my pestle and not realizing it until a few seconds later. I couldn't breathe. I knew that stupid lump liked her, but he actually invited her to stay with him? Invited her to his house? To his country??? Did that mean she wouldn't be coming to the Burrow at all this summer? Oh man, it felt like Pigwidgeon was going on a bloody rampage now!
"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake," Hermione muttered. I thought I was going to be sick. I stared at her, trying to suppress my jeal- er....my anger. Her big brown eyes wouldn't meet mine. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to-"
"And what did you say?" I asked in a strangely calm voice. I felt like my heart was pounding in my ears, and I couldn't stop looking at her. I reckon I must've been as red as my hair.
"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione said like she hadn't even heard me, going a lot redder than I was, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there.....or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task."
"And what did you say?" I repeated, louder this time. Harry nudged me, and I looked down and realized that I had been pounding my pestle on my desk so hard there were dent marks, very far away from my bowl. I'm going mad, I thought. Why do I care so much?
Hermione finally looked at me. "Well, I was too busy seeing whether you and Harry were okay..."
My heart leapt.
***Aww! The scene isn't over yet, read the next chapter. I think I'll just end it at Chapter 2; it's just sort of a glimpse into the past and not anything I'd want to turn into a long fic. Please review!!!!!***