The Insufferable Ron Weasley
by, Hermione Granger
By, SpiritedRinoa
That Ronald Weasley is such an insufferable git! I mean, honestly…how could he not notice that I was a girl? Can someone really be that oblivious?
I certainly had no intentions of going to Yule Ball by myself. I would have thought that at least one of my friends would have thought to ask me, seeing as my two two closest friends are boys! Instead, Ron went to ask that manipulative part veela, Fleur Delacour. What was so great about her? So what if she's beautiful, it certainly doesn't mean that she knows the 12 ancient uses of dragon's blood or can brew a decent Polyjuice Potion. Not that Ron cared. After all, schoolwork and learning never seemed to interest him much. He was always going on about quidditch, or something of the like.
I think that Ron asked almost every girl he could think of before even noticing me – and when he finally did, I already had a date to Yule Ball. When Viktor asked me to Yule Ball, I was a bit surprised. I mean, he was from Durmstrang, but he seemed nice enough, so I agreed to go. I figured that with Yule Ball so close, my friends most likely already had dates; I just hoped that Ron's wasn't that veela.
Then the prat asked if I'd go to Yule Ball with him in his usual awkward, fumbling style. Okay, maybe I wouldn't have been so irritated if I hadn't already agreed to go with Viktor; I probably would have even said yes. But the point of the matter was that I had already agreed to go with Viktor and Ron was just reaching the realization that I wasn't a boy just like he and Harry. I had just wanted to banish him against a wall or slap him across the face like I had done to Malfoy the previous year.
And he had the nerve to accuse me of lying about having a date to Yule Ball when I told him no. As though the thought of anyone taking notice of me was so incredibly beyond belief that it just couldn't possibly be true. Just for that, I wasn't even going to humour him by telling him who I was going with. The git could find out for himself.
The day of Yule ball, I had spent several hours getting ready. When I finally finished, and gave myself a last look in the mirror, I hardly recognized myself. It was amazing how different dress robes, some hair tamer and a bit of makeup could make you feel. I'd show Ron Weasley that I was indeed a girl, and have fun at the Yule Ball in the process.
When I went downstairs, and met up with Viktor, I could feel a lot of eyes on me, some with surprise and some with jealousy. I really didn't see what the big deal was, so what if Viktor played for the Pro Bulgarian Quidditch team? It wasn't as though he were the only one to ever play quidditch and be good at it. And the sport really wasn't such a huge deal – it was only a game. Though you wouldn't know it sometimes, talking to Harry and Ron. Then I saw Malfoy, looking prim and proper as ever with Pansy Parkinson on his arm. He was looking at me and I braced myself for one of his usual insults. I was just waiting to hear him call me a 'Mudblood' again, but the insult never came, for which I was eternally grateful – I just couldn't handle Malfoy like Ron could. Not only had Ron gotten into a fight with him in the stands our first year, but he had dared to hex him with a broken wand second year…and wound up hexing himself. All because Malfoy had insulted me with a word that I hadn't even heard before.
The night had been rather pleasant, and for the most part, I enjoyed myself. Viktor was awfully nice, and I think he tried his best to talk about something other than quidditch. But I think that I'm going to scream if I ever have to spend another whole meal trying to teach someone how to pronounce my name, it's not Her-my-own-ninny. He was a decent dancer; at least my feet weren't getting trod on like poor Ginny's were, and I couldn't help but be grateful that I had said yes to Viktor before Neville had asked.
I have to admit though; I missed Ron's quirkiness. Viktor was nice, but it was strange going the whole evening without Ron's usual commentary on everything. I could half imagine the sorts of things that he and Harry had said when they saw Malfoy, I could imagine that Ron was terribly relieved that he didn't have to be in Harry's shoes and open up the dancing. I couldn't help but notice that Ron spent the entire night sitting and watching the dance floor, as though he wanted to dance, but at the same time, didn't. I just couldn't understand it, I mean he had a date, and Padma Patil seemed more than ready and willing to dance with him. Though she finally gave up and moved onto someone else in hopes of having a dance partner. I had half a mind to go over there and ask him why he was being so ridiculous, but I wasn't about to blow off Viktor just because Ron decided that he'd rather sit and watch everything rather than enjoying himself.
I kept getting the district feeling that he was watching me. But that was ridiculous, right? I mean, if he had wanted to go with me so terribly, he should have asked me first, and not as a last ditch effort in getting a date to the Ball. Okay, so maybe it was just my imagination that he was looking in my direction. After all, I was hoping that he'd notice that, yes, I was a girl, and that I was capable of looking like one when I wasn't in my standard Hogwarts robes and wanted to take the time to dress up.
After the dance, I went back up to common room to find Ron already up there. He immediately started in. I can't even remember what it was that he started on, but he was being his usual stubborn self. He started in on my going with Viktor; about how I was 'fraternizing' with the enemy. So I told him exactly what I thought about it. It was so incredibly simple – if he didn't like it, then he should have asked me first. I had stormed off in a huff, irritated to no end that he could be so incredibly dense. Up in my room I got to wondering just why I was so agitated by the whole thing. After all, what should I care if Ron wanted to go with that veela…or if he wanted to be a total prat and just sit on the sidelines all night. And why should I care so much that he hadn't asked me first? That night, I came to the realization that I wasn't the insufferable know-it-all that Ron Weasley though that I was; because at some point along the way, I had fallen in love with my best friend, and it had never fully occurred to me until this moment.
But if he ever tried to ask me as a last resort again, I'd hex him something so awful that regurgitating those slugs would seem pleasant in comparison.