"The Incentive," by Quidditch, Anyone?
Disgusting, Arrogant Prat
That extraordinary hug had created a sort of bond between Ron and Hermione. They were very friendly to each other at all times. Terry wasn't mentioned verbally, but more often than not he showed up unexpectedly whenever they were alone. This to Ron was more frustrating than watching the Chudley Cannons Chasers fail to make a goal when the score was 280-0. But what put him over the top was when Terry would suavely put his arm around Hermione's shoulder or purposely push his way in between them. Ron was so angry, he didn't even notice that Hermione groaned quietly and gripped her bag with a grip that could break a tree trunk when this happened.
Indeed, Ron savored the times when it was just him and Hermione without 'playah' Terry hanging around with his ego bouncing off walls. One of these times, he walked in on her in the common room with no one but a book. He grinned mentally.
"Hi," he smiled as he sat down on a couch. Of course, his was no Terry smile, but it was half-way perfect, in a crooked sort of way.
"Hi!" she smiled back. Her response was warm and cheery.
Ron nodded to the book in her lap. "Reading again?"
"Homework," she said firmly. "I don't always read for fun."
Ron was taken aback. "I didn't mean to offend you. I mean, you're always reading."
"Right." She tensed up a bit. "It's just that some people think it's just a bloody waste of time. They don't seem to care that I just-" she stopped. Er, Ron didn't need to know all that. "Nothing."
Ron knew already. Urgh. Terry again. He didn't continue his questioning. Instead he just got out his own homework and some ink.
Just like the years B.T. (Before Terry). Sitting and laughing in the Common Room, having a stellar time even though they were just doing homework. But of course it was too good to last.
Oh, spotlight! Too bad there wasn't a red carpet and photographers around. Bow, for the almighty Terry has arrived!
Double urgh.
"How'd you get in here?" asked Hermione without a greeting.
"Oh, that little pink kid with the pig face gave me the password. You know, the stupid one," he said casually. Since he was now checking himself in a portable mirror, he didn't notice Ron glaring.
"Neville?" Hermione sighed.
"Er, I guess. Hey, want to go for a walk by the lake?" he asked quickly.
"Well, I have loads of work to finish-"
"Oh, c'mon. Work. Who needs it? Just for those people who don't have lives, right?"
"Right," Hermione said with a mixture of irritation and sarcasm. "Erm, you do know we take the O.W.L.s this year, don't you?"
That damn wicked laugh again. "Hermione." Ron scowled more. "We don't need to study for those! Any job I want, I could just talk my way through. I just have a way with people." Yeah. Making them consider a career as a serial killer.
"Well, what about me? My future?"
"That's what you've got me for, babe!"
Crash.
Hermione and Terry turned their heads to Ron. Large spots of black bled into his clothes and a broken ink bottle lay on the stained table. He swore under his breath as he tried to clean up the mess he just made. Hermione got the impression that he had been absentmindedly squeezing that bottle for some time.
"Er, I should get something to clean this up with," he muttered embarrassedly as he headed out the door. A male voice behind him muttered something like 'pathetic'.
·~··~··~·
Ron tried desperately to wash his robes under the icy jet of the boys' bathroom. The hand soap he had tried scrubbing into it had only made it worse by spreading the stain. It probably didn't help either that his hands were shaking with anger and he felt very close to smashing the mirror in front of him.
Hands full of suds and water, he wiped his left eye with his wrist. He wasn't crying, he assured himself. He was, er, just sweating. Yeah... sweating from freezing water and thin shirt without his robe on... that's it. I mean, why would he cry like a little boy just because his best friend found this total jerk so attractive? It didn't matter to him one bit.
Ron gave up trying to get the ink out of the fabric. Instead he wrung them out and put them back on, still wrinkled and wet. He didn't care, much. Wasn't like he had a reputation like Terry, who needed to look male-model perfect at all times.
Ron kicked at the door. Since when did he have the emotions of a teenage girl in a bad high school prom movie? Ron Weasley does not mope around.
Where to go now? Library was out of the question; he didn't have his school bag, and he sure as hell wasn't going back into that Common Room to get it any time soon. He could go down to the kitchens and dissolve in a binge of self-pity, but that was, again, too depressed teenage girl-ish. He could write Mum, let her know how oh-so-great school was going. Nah. Don't want to get too high off all the joy in his life.
Instead he wandered around the castle in his wet robes. He tried to aspire for something better to do, but not much came to mind. Before he knew it, he had traveled his way back to the portrait of the Fat Lady.
He came into the darkened room again to find Hermione alone. She had fallen asleep with her head on an armrest and a book next to her. No Terry in sight. A small victory took place inside him, as though he had defeated the pretty boy at something.
That cushioned couch looked awfully comfortable. His legs ached from walking so much, so he sat down right next to Hermione. Her hand lay on the book cover lightly. Before thinking it through, he took her hand in his own. She moved a bit, but she didn't wake. Actually, she must have been dreaming of Terry, because she grasped his hand more securely.
Pretty sure she wasn't about to wake any time soon, he didn't move his hand. He felt so stupid- this was the kind of thing that happened to those muggles in stupid romance books. He removed his hand... but only to trace hers with his finger.
She smiled and repositioned herself. "Stop," she said... ick, playfully.
Ron let go right before she opened her eyes. He felt himself going red. "Sorry," he mumbled.
Maybe she was half asleep and didn't know what she was doing, but she looked at him as though she wasn't mad. After a second she closed her eyes again and rolled over.
Icky, icky, icky! This is way too sappy, at least for my taste. The idea came to me and it had no competition, so it's in the story. I know I'm making Terry a huge jerk and he's probably not like that at all, but that's the reason I used such a minor character.
Uh, no current ideas for future chapters... suggestions welcome!
Thanks to all of you who reviewed:
mizditz
Tikal
Katie Louise Feuerbach
Len
Countess Twizzler (like the name, hun!)
LJames
Mione Weasley
Ali Simmons
cosmoz
bavvo
jaffacake, loyalist of them all
mikki
fluffy-rose
mini veela
Mal
Raindancer
I had no idea you cared. But, uh, I guess I do now.