Conversation

By like a falling star

Ron and Hermione were having a "conversation". Or, as they liked to refer to it, a "discussion".

Of course, to people who had had the pleasure of knowing Ron and Hermione, this meant a full-blown, full-scale, all-out, no-holds-barred scream fest.

Needless to say, the Gryffindors who happened to merely be present in the Gryffindor Common Room at the time suffered rather unfortunate consequences.

But one already knows that where our two favourite protagonists are concerned, nothing ever turns out quite the way it's supposed to.

And to think that it had actually started out as, well, a conversation.

Ron and Hermione had somehow managed to steer the topic of conversation from their History of Magic assignment ["Oh, just let me have a look, Hermione. I've only got six inches left." "No, Ron. You've got to learn to do your own homework. You'd never learn anything otherwise."  "As if I'd need to know, ten years down, whether Erkin the Enormous was born in 1742 or 1743, honestly."] to whether Professor McGonagall was indeed a huffy old sandbag ["She is not, Ron. You're just upset because she gave you detention for transfiguring Harry into a striped neon pillow, when we'd already been studying human transfiguration for weeks."] to [lo and behold!] Victor Krum.

It was one of Ron's many talents [the ability to steer possibly any topic to "Vicky"] and Hermione absolutely loathed it.

"I'm not upset! McGonagall is a huffy old sandbag!" Insult the favourite teacher. Good going, Ron.

"I can't believe you would say such a thing about Professor McGonagall! She's one of the most highly respected teachers here at Hogwarts, and I'm sure that many people would agree with me!"

"Yeah, I'm sure Vicky would."

The look on Hermione's face was positively scary; she looked set to pull out her wand and hex Ron to next Tuesday and back. "Ron, what is the problem between you and Victor Krum?"

Ron scowled. "Nothing, except that he has… dishonourable intentions towards my best friend, is all."

Hermione flushed red from anger. "Ronald Weasley! Victor has been nothing but a good friend to me, and I honestly cannot believe that you would imply such a thing!"

"Getting all defensive over Vicky now, aren't you?"

The rest of Gryffindor was silently backing away, hoping to fade away into the scarlet curtains, which wasn't exactly hard, considering the fact that when Ron and Hermione quarreled, they focused on each other and the other alone, oblivious to anyone or anything else.

"Now, Ron, that's just being too bloody unreasonable!"

A hushed, unnatural silence fell over the Common Room.

Even a shocked gasp escaped from none other than Hermione herself.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! You swore!" Ron looked positively stunned.

"I- I didn't mean it!" Hermione squeaked, looking very embarrassed.

"Hermione—" Ron began.

"I was too caught up with what you were saying! I didn't mean it!" Hermione was very red in the face; her hair blew haphazardly around her face in little wisps. "I can't believe that I… of all the… when I keep telling others not to…" She whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

"I'm impressed." Ron said. "But don't do it again." He now had a fiercely protective look on his face, and Hermione noticed that his eyes were very, very blue indeed.

And then…

Ron leant in towards her.

And a new sort of, um, conversation began.

*