Rating: G
Summary: Ron and Hermione's bickering leads them to an interesting place, thanks to a little help
from Harry.
Spoilers: It's best to have read all the HP books.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, her publisher and her many, many well-paid
lawyers. I am NOT making any money off this, nor am I trying to infringe on anyone's copyright.
Believe that.
Authors' Notes: I dedicate this fic to all the Ron/Hermione 'shippers in the house.
Questions, Comments, Suggestions: Send to donnacsoprano@netscape.net. All flames are read,
laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.
"My hands come together
And I draw in a breath
Through my teeth
Your curt, short sarcastic remarks
Come so often
Are never sincere
Darker amusement sets in
That's the problem
You're sayin' something
And my eyes open wider
And we grin and we stare
At the floor
Your jokes missed
Your hands grow to fists
And your lips purse
Expectin' the worst
With every word
That's how it started
That's the problem
But after we're done
I can still feel your eyes
On my forehead
And after we're done
I can still feel the pain
In my free time."
– "Stop Talking",
The Walkmen
"Stop Talking"
By Net Girl
Ron Weasley slammed the door to the dorm room he shared with his best friend, Harry Potter. His
face was almost as red as his hair, his eyes smoldering with a rage that only one person in the entire
world could spark inside of him. That one person being a certain bushy-haired female Gryffindor.
Harry turned away from his Potions essay as Ron folded his arms across his chest and proceeded to
angrily pace the floor. His quill lowered. [They've been at it again,] he thought. This was how it
almost always ended. Now he had to do damage control the best he knew how.
"I take it things didn't go as you'd expected?" he asked.
"No," Ron shortly replied. He continued to pace back and forth. "That girl ... that bloody girl! I
swear, Harry, she hasn't changed at all since our first year." He stopped and let his arms drop to his
sides. "She's driving me insane! Insane! I can't take it any longer!"
Harry couldn't help but smile a little. Hermione Granger had been driving Ron insane for the last
six years. And Ron did the same to her. This wasn't an isolated incident. Every year, something
happened between them. *Every* year. It never failed.
"You think she would be different, right? But noooo." Ron looked over to Harry who quickly
wiped the smile off of his face. "I shouldn't have decided to study for the Transfiguration test with
her. All she does is nitpick!" His hands raised about level with his shoulders and he clenched them
into fists. "Endlessly! Reminds me of Mum sometimes. 'You're sayin' it all wrong, Ron. You
aren't annunciating properly'. Argh!"
"She's only trying to help, you know," Harry offered. He'd heard this rant countless times before.
He'd stopped keeping track of them in their second year. "Anyway, who asked whom for help?" He
raised an eyebrow when Ron looked at him.
Ron's face softened a bit. Yes, he'd been the one to ask Hermione for help. He'd never had the best
marks in any of his courses, but McGonagall's class had him quite stumped this year. Hermione, of
course, was the best in every class. She always tutored those who asked. And, sometimes, those
who didn't.
Harry nodded. "Uh huh. You. Maybe you should go back to the common room and apologize for
whatever you said to her."
Ron shifted uneasily in place. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry was right. This wasn't her
fault, it was his. Well, it mostly wasn't her fault. "All right, then," he finally sighed after a few
moments of contemplation. "I'll tell her I'm sorry." [As much as I don't want to,] he added in his
head.
As Ron left, Harry dropped his quill on his desk and dashed for the door. He opened it a crack and
watched Ron walk down the corridor towards the common room. Once he was certain Ron
wouldn't notice him following, he slipped out of the room and kept a safe distance as he walked.
This was something he had to see.
-
Hermione's quill point scratched over the parchment while she continued to work on her essay for
Transfiguration. She stopped mid-sentence when she realized she'd completely forgotten what her
topic was. With a sigh of frustration, she threw the quill down and rested her chin in the palms of
her hands. Her gaze shifted over to Ron's books and materials then finally ended up at his empty
chair. Another sigh, one of guilt, escaped her lips and she closed her eyes.
The argument replayed in her mind's eye. She'd been explaining one of the more advanced spells to
Ron and, for some reason, he couldn't quite get the pronunciation of the words right, even after
she'd recited it several times. He became frustrated, so did she. She'd told him to annunciate
properly and he insisted that he was. She told him no, he wasn't and he replied that he would just
give it up. That was when she'd called him a quitter. He'd fired back by calling her a snobby little
know-it-all. The exchange that followed wasn't much better and she cared not to recall any more of
it.
Her eyes opened and she leaned back in her chair. Ron was certainly trying his best, she knew, but
his best was never good enough for her. She bit her lower lip when she remembered the look on his
face when she'd told him he was a quitter. He was anything but. Not once in all their years of
dangerous adventures at Hogwarts did Ron Weasley give up or give in. He was loyal to Harry and
to her and would more than likely die to save either of them. That wasn't the soul of a quitter.
[Why did I call him that?]
She sniffled a bit then looked over to the crackling fire in the fireplace. All she could hear was that
sound. The rest of the common room was vacant. Most students had already gone to bed while
others spent their evening studying in the library. She wished they'd been in the library that evening,
too. At least there they'd have been less tempted to tear into one another.
Closing her book, she sighed once again. If she planned on finishing anything, she'd have to go to
her room.
[Why did you say that?] she scolded herself. [Why can't you ever keep your mouth shut?]
Her head raised when she heard the door to one of the dorm rooms close. Ron stood on the landing.
Quickly, she averted her gaze and continued to gather up her things. A part of her was elated to see
him return.
Ron paused on the landing. He gazed down at Hermione as she collected her pieces of parchment.
A hand rested on the railing, his face softening a little more as he watched her. He noticed how
lovely she looked in the warm amber glow of the candlelight. Not that this was the first time.
Usually, when he thought about her in that way, he would push it back and not address it for the rest
of the month. Sometimes, she didn't make it difficult to forget at all, especially when she opened her
mouth.
[Go apologize,] he thought. [Just do it.] After hesitating for a few seconds, he descended the stairs.
Harry carefully opened the door to the boys' dorm, peered through the crack and saw Ron headed
downstairs. From his position, he could clearly see Hermione at the table, pretending not to notice
Ron as she grabbed her books. He never could understand it. Everyone else in the school could see
it but the two of them never did. Or they refused to. He'd thought it would dawn on them both in
fourth year, especially after the Yule Ball. But it didn't.
"Hermione?"
She glanced up at Ron. "Yes?" she shortly replied.
His jaw tightened at the sharpness of her tone. "I guess that means you'll still talk to me," he
quietly replied. He fought the urge to add something snide at the end of the sentence. When she
didn't respond, he stared down at the floor, gathering up the courage to say what he wanted to say.
"Look - I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry for everything I said to you."
Hermione sat in her chair without moving a muscle. She could tell from his tone that his apology
was sincere. Hearing him say it, it made her feel even worse for what she'd said in reply to him.
Swallowing hard, she craned her head so she looked up at him.
"Apology accepted," she evenly replied. Her lips pressed together in a thin line then she stood up,
preparing to leave the common room. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Ron's head lifted, his eyes a little wide at her response. "That's it? You'll see me tomorrow?"
She turned to him, hands on her hips. "What is it that you want from me?"
"Well, if it's not completely impossible for you to do, an 'I'm sorry' of your own wouldn't hurt," he
shot back. He smirked a little. "But I suppose I expected too much of you, Hermione. You can
never admit when you're wrong. You can't apologize to anyone for anything."
"What? What should I apologize for?" Her arms dropped to her sides, her hands balling into fists
as she glared at Ron.
"For actin' the way you did, that's what."
"You started it," she snapped.
"I did not. You're the one who called me a quitter."
"And you called *me* a snobby little know-it-all!" her voice rose with every word.
"At least I was telling the truth," he snapped back at her. He regretted the comment before it even
left his mouth. Inside, he cringed. The hurt in her eyes for that split second, it wounded him more
than anything in the world. He was wrong - it wasn't the truth.
Harry shook his head and sighed. Something needed to be done or else this situation would only
become worse. Reaching into his robe, he grabbed his wand and withdrew it. Aiming carefully
through the crack in the door, he concentrated on his two friends.
"Mutus Vox," he murmured then gestured towards them. A stream of bright light shot from the tip
of his wand, struck both Hermione and Ron and then quickly faded. He lowered his wand, a smile
creeping to his face as he watched the reaction from both of them.
Hermione blinked a few times. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come forth.
Her hands flew to her throat as her eyes grew wide. She gestured to her throat and mouthed, 'Can
you speak?' to Ron.
Ron shook his head. 'No,' he mouthed in reply. 'What happened?'
Hermione looked past Ron, up to the landing, from where the light had originated from. Her eyes
narrowed a little when she saw the door close. Her teeth gritted together as her hands dropped away
from her neck. Her eyes flicked back to Ron. 'I think I know who it was,' she replied. She nodded
towards the door. 'Harry.'
He noiselessly sighed. 'Take it off,' he told her.
She gestured to her throat and said, 'I can't. No voice.' She pointed upstairs. 'He has to do it.'
'I'll get him,' Ron said. He turned to go upstairs but Hermione grabbed his arm. Brows furrowed
in confusion, he looked back to her. 'What?' The expression on her face had changed, something
was going on in that mind of hers. 'What is it?'
Her hand slipped away from his arm and she glanced up at the door before looking Ron in the eye.
'He did this for a reason,' she replied. 'He wants us to stop fighting with each other.'
Ron shrugged. 'So he's going to leave us like this?'
'Until we stop fighting, I'd imagine.'
'I'd say he succeeded.' His hand went to his throat and he absently massaged it. It felt wicked
weird to be speaking but have no audible words. Part of him wanted to hit Harry with a tickling
charm until he relented and removed the spell from him and Hermione. But another part knew that
if Harry removed it, they would just continue fighting. That's how it always went. Day in, day out.
Over the silliest things some days.
Hermione huffed as she sat down in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Her foot began
to tap as she glanced around the common room. [What is it that he expects us to do with no voices?]
she wondered, a little angrily. [So, he wants us to stop fighting. We've stopped. What do you want
us to do, Harry? Why don't you tell us?]
Harry peered through the small crack in the door, one hand over his mouth, trying to smother the
laughter. He'd never seen Hermione this flustered. Not even when she scored the second highest
mark on an exam in fifth year. Neither of them knew what to do without their voices. He thought it
would be obvious to them once it was done. Apparently not.
Sitting on the edge of the table by Hermione, Ron cleared his throat without a noise. When that
didn't attract Hermione's attention, he tapped a finger on the table then she looked up at him. 'We
have to apologize to one another and mean it,' he said. 'That's what he wants us to do.'
'How?' She quickly looked away from him. Shrugging her shoulders, she shook her head at the
same time. A moment later, she felt the touch of Ron's hand on her cheek, gently turning her head
so she would look at him again. This time, when she met his gaze, she didn't glance away or even
move. 'What is it?' she asked, already knowing the answer.
Slowly, Ron leaned towards her. He didn't know what it was, it felt like the right thing to do. In
fact, it was what he'd wanted to do so many times before. He never had the courage to try it,
though. What if she'd rejected him? Soon, he pressed his lips softly to Hermione's. To his surprise,
she didn't pull away or try to push him back from her. No.
Instead, she kissed him back. Hermione's eyes closed. Everything made sense now. She supposed
she'd always been fooling herself about it. She'd always cared just a little more, and in an entirely
different way, for Ron than she did for Harry. Since they'd first met, it had been there. The arguing,
the sniping, the constant bickering - it wasn't hatred. It was the only way they knew how to express
their feelings for each other.
Until now.
Upstairs, Harry sighed in relief then smiled.
After a few long moments, the two of them drew back from each other. Hermione shyly smiling,
feeling strange, yet not so strange, about what had happened. Ron, on the other hand, was blushing
ever so slightly. That was all that needed to be said between them. It was solved through one simple
gesture. A gesture that was long overdue.
"It's about time!" called Harry's voice from up on the landing. He grinned when the two of them
looked up at him. He waved. "Everything all right, then?"
Hermione stood up, her hands on her hips. 'Take the spell off, Harry!' she demanded.
"What was that, Hermione?" Harry leaned against the railing, cupping a hand to his ear. "I
couldn't quite hear you. What did you want?"
Her jaw tightened. 'This isn't funny!'
Standing straight, Harry shrugged. "Sorry, I can't hear what you're saying. It must not be that
important, then. Well ... g'night!" He opened the door to the boys' dormitory then let it fall shut
behind him. Before he headed back to his room, he used his wand to lock the door. With no
voices, the two of them would be stuck alone in the common room until another Gryffindor returned,
one who could remove the barrier or take the spell off of them.
Ron and Hermione dashed up the stairs after Harry disappeared into the dormitory. Ron grabbed the
doorknob but it wouldn't budge an inch. He yanked a few times then slammed a fist on it. He
reached for his wand but remembered that without a voice it was pointless to even try it. Kicking
the door one final time, he turned around and leaned against it.
Hermione, though, was laughing. She couldn't stop herself either. Not even when Ron wanted to
know what was so bloody funny about it. It wasn't long, however, until he was reduced to silent
laughter with her. The two of them kept on until they couldn't stand. It was a funny situation, both
had to admit at this point. That it took Harry removing their voices to make them realize exactly
what they felt for each other.
'I'm still going to get him back,' Ron told her once they'd calmed down enough.
'I'll help you,' she added, a broad smile on her face. 'I'll definitely help you!'
The End
Summary: Ron and Hermione's bickering leads them to an interesting place, thanks to a little help
from Harry.
Spoilers: It's best to have read all the HP books.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, her publisher and her many, many well-paid
lawyers. I am NOT making any money off this, nor am I trying to infringe on anyone's copyright.
Believe that.
Authors' Notes: I dedicate this fic to all the Ron/Hermione 'shippers in the house.
Questions, Comments, Suggestions: Send to donnacsoprano@netscape.net. All flames are read,
laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.
"My hands come together
And I draw in a breath
Through my teeth
Your curt, short sarcastic remarks
Come so often
Are never sincere
Darker amusement sets in
That's the problem
You're sayin' something
And my eyes open wider
And we grin and we stare
At the floor
Your jokes missed
Your hands grow to fists
And your lips purse
Expectin' the worst
With every word
That's how it started
That's the problem
But after we're done
I can still feel your eyes
On my forehead
And after we're done
I can still feel the pain
In my free time."
– "Stop Talking",
The Walkmen
"Stop Talking"
By Net Girl
Ron Weasley slammed the door to the dorm room he shared with his best friend, Harry Potter. His
face was almost as red as his hair, his eyes smoldering with a rage that only one person in the entire
world could spark inside of him. That one person being a certain bushy-haired female Gryffindor.
Harry turned away from his Potions essay as Ron folded his arms across his chest and proceeded to
angrily pace the floor. His quill lowered. [They've been at it again,] he thought. This was how it
almost always ended. Now he had to do damage control the best he knew how.
"I take it things didn't go as you'd expected?" he asked.
"No," Ron shortly replied. He continued to pace back and forth. "That girl ... that bloody girl! I
swear, Harry, she hasn't changed at all since our first year." He stopped and let his arms drop to his
sides. "She's driving me insane! Insane! I can't take it any longer!"
Harry couldn't help but smile a little. Hermione Granger had been driving Ron insane for the last
six years. And Ron did the same to her. This wasn't an isolated incident. Every year, something
happened between them. *Every* year. It never failed.
"You think she would be different, right? But noooo." Ron looked over to Harry who quickly
wiped the smile off of his face. "I shouldn't have decided to study for the Transfiguration test with
her. All she does is nitpick!" His hands raised about level with his shoulders and he clenched them
into fists. "Endlessly! Reminds me of Mum sometimes. 'You're sayin' it all wrong, Ron. You
aren't annunciating properly'. Argh!"
"She's only trying to help, you know," Harry offered. He'd heard this rant countless times before.
He'd stopped keeping track of them in their second year. "Anyway, who asked whom for help?" He
raised an eyebrow when Ron looked at him.
Ron's face softened a bit. Yes, he'd been the one to ask Hermione for help. He'd never had the best
marks in any of his courses, but McGonagall's class had him quite stumped this year. Hermione, of
course, was the best in every class. She always tutored those who asked. And, sometimes, those
who didn't.
Harry nodded. "Uh huh. You. Maybe you should go back to the common room and apologize for
whatever you said to her."
Ron shifted uneasily in place. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry was right. This wasn't her
fault, it was his. Well, it mostly wasn't her fault. "All right, then," he finally sighed after a few
moments of contemplation. "I'll tell her I'm sorry." [As much as I don't want to,] he added in his
head.
As Ron left, Harry dropped his quill on his desk and dashed for the door. He opened it a crack and
watched Ron walk down the corridor towards the common room. Once he was certain Ron
wouldn't notice him following, he slipped out of the room and kept a safe distance as he walked.
This was something he had to see.
-
Hermione's quill point scratched over the parchment while she continued to work on her essay for
Transfiguration. She stopped mid-sentence when she realized she'd completely forgotten what her
topic was. With a sigh of frustration, she threw the quill down and rested her chin in the palms of
her hands. Her gaze shifted over to Ron's books and materials then finally ended up at his empty
chair. Another sigh, one of guilt, escaped her lips and she closed her eyes.
The argument replayed in her mind's eye. She'd been explaining one of the more advanced spells to
Ron and, for some reason, he couldn't quite get the pronunciation of the words right, even after
she'd recited it several times. He became frustrated, so did she. She'd told him to annunciate
properly and he insisted that he was. She told him no, he wasn't and he replied that he would just
give it up. That was when she'd called him a quitter. He'd fired back by calling her a snobby little
know-it-all. The exchange that followed wasn't much better and she cared not to recall any more of
it.
Her eyes opened and she leaned back in her chair. Ron was certainly trying his best, she knew, but
his best was never good enough for her. She bit her lower lip when she remembered the look on his
face when she'd told him he was a quitter. He was anything but. Not once in all their years of
dangerous adventures at Hogwarts did Ron Weasley give up or give in. He was loyal to Harry and
to her and would more than likely die to save either of them. That wasn't the soul of a quitter.
[Why did I call him that?]
She sniffled a bit then looked over to the crackling fire in the fireplace. All she could hear was that
sound. The rest of the common room was vacant. Most students had already gone to bed while
others spent their evening studying in the library. She wished they'd been in the library that evening,
too. At least there they'd have been less tempted to tear into one another.
Closing her book, she sighed once again. If she planned on finishing anything, she'd have to go to
her room.
[Why did you say that?] she scolded herself. [Why can't you ever keep your mouth shut?]
Her head raised when she heard the door to one of the dorm rooms close. Ron stood on the landing.
Quickly, she averted her gaze and continued to gather up her things. A part of her was elated to see
him return.
Ron paused on the landing. He gazed down at Hermione as she collected her pieces of parchment.
A hand rested on the railing, his face softening a little more as he watched her. He noticed how
lovely she looked in the warm amber glow of the candlelight. Not that this was the first time.
Usually, when he thought about her in that way, he would push it back and not address it for the rest
of the month. Sometimes, she didn't make it difficult to forget at all, especially when she opened her
mouth.
[Go apologize,] he thought. [Just do it.] After hesitating for a few seconds, he descended the stairs.
Harry carefully opened the door to the boys' dorm, peered through the crack and saw Ron headed
downstairs. From his position, he could clearly see Hermione at the table, pretending not to notice
Ron as she grabbed her books. He never could understand it. Everyone else in the school could see
it but the two of them never did. Or they refused to. He'd thought it would dawn on them both in
fourth year, especially after the Yule Ball. But it didn't.
"Hermione?"
She glanced up at Ron. "Yes?" she shortly replied.
His jaw tightened at the sharpness of her tone. "I guess that means you'll still talk to me," he
quietly replied. He fought the urge to add something snide at the end of the sentence. When she
didn't respond, he stared down at the floor, gathering up the courage to say what he wanted to say.
"Look - I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry for everything I said to you."
Hermione sat in her chair without moving a muscle. She could tell from his tone that his apology
was sincere. Hearing him say it, it made her feel even worse for what she'd said in reply to him.
Swallowing hard, she craned her head so she looked up at him.
"Apology accepted," she evenly replied. Her lips pressed together in a thin line then she stood up,
preparing to leave the common room. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Ron's head lifted, his eyes a little wide at her response. "That's it? You'll see me tomorrow?"
She turned to him, hands on her hips. "What is it that you want from me?"
"Well, if it's not completely impossible for you to do, an 'I'm sorry' of your own wouldn't hurt," he
shot back. He smirked a little. "But I suppose I expected too much of you, Hermione. You can
never admit when you're wrong. You can't apologize to anyone for anything."
"What? What should I apologize for?" Her arms dropped to her sides, her hands balling into fists
as she glared at Ron.
"For actin' the way you did, that's what."
"You started it," she snapped.
"I did not. You're the one who called me a quitter."
"And you called *me* a snobby little know-it-all!" her voice rose with every word.
"At least I was telling the truth," he snapped back at her. He regretted the comment before it even
left his mouth. Inside, he cringed. The hurt in her eyes for that split second, it wounded him more
than anything in the world. He was wrong - it wasn't the truth.
Harry shook his head and sighed. Something needed to be done or else this situation would only
become worse. Reaching into his robe, he grabbed his wand and withdrew it. Aiming carefully
through the crack in the door, he concentrated on his two friends.
"Mutus Vox," he murmured then gestured towards them. A stream of bright light shot from the tip
of his wand, struck both Hermione and Ron and then quickly faded. He lowered his wand, a smile
creeping to his face as he watched the reaction from both of them.
Hermione blinked a few times. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come forth.
Her hands flew to her throat as her eyes grew wide. She gestured to her throat and mouthed, 'Can
you speak?' to Ron.
Ron shook his head. 'No,' he mouthed in reply. 'What happened?'
Hermione looked past Ron, up to the landing, from where the light had originated from. Her eyes
narrowed a little when she saw the door close. Her teeth gritted together as her hands dropped away
from her neck. Her eyes flicked back to Ron. 'I think I know who it was,' she replied. She nodded
towards the door. 'Harry.'
He noiselessly sighed. 'Take it off,' he told her.
She gestured to her throat and said, 'I can't. No voice.' She pointed upstairs. 'He has to do it.'
'I'll get him,' Ron said. He turned to go upstairs but Hermione grabbed his arm. Brows furrowed
in confusion, he looked back to her. 'What?' The expression on her face had changed, something
was going on in that mind of hers. 'What is it?'
Her hand slipped away from his arm and she glanced up at the door before looking Ron in the eye.
'He did this for a reason,' she replied. 'He wants us to stop fighting with each other.'
Ron shrugged. 'So he's going to leave us like this?'
'Until we stop fighting, I'd imagine.'
'I'd say he succeeded.' His hand went to his throat and he absently massaged it. It felt wicked
weird to be speaking but have no audible words. Part of him wanted to hit Harry with a tickling
charm until he relented and removed the spell from him and Hermione. But another part knew that
if Harry removed it, they would just continue fighting. That's how it always went. Day in, day out.
Over the silliest things some days.
Hermione huffed as she sat down in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. Her foot began
to tap as she glanced around the common room. [What is it that he expects us to do with no voices?]
she wondered, a little angrily. [So, he wants us to stop fighting. We've stopped. What do you want
us to do, Harry? Why don't you tell us?]
Harry peered through the small crack in the door, one hand over his mouth, trying to smother the
laughter. He'd never seen Hermione this flustered. Not even when she scored the second highest
mark on an exam in fifth year. Neither of them knew what to do without their voices. He thought it
would be obvious to them once it was done. Apparently not.
Sitting on the edge of the table by Hermione, Ron cleared his throat without a noise. When that
didn't attract Hermione's attention, he tapped a finger on the table then she looked up at him. 'We
have to apologize to one another and mean it,' he said. 'That's what he wants us to do.'
'How?' She quickly looked away from him. Shrugging her shoulders, she shook her head at the
same time. A moment later, she felt the touch of Ron's hand on her cheek, gently turning her head
so she would look at him again. This time, when she met his gaze, she didn't glance away or even
move. 'What is it?' she asked, already knowing the answer.
Slowly, Ron leaned towards her. He didn't know what it was, it felt like the right thing to do. In
fact, it was what he'd wanted to do so many times before. He never had the courage to try it,
though. What if she'd rejected him? Soon, he pressed his lips softly to Hermione's. To his surprise,
she didn't pull away or try to push him back from her. No.
Instead, she kissed him back. Hermione's eyes closed. Everything made sense now. She supposed
she'd always been fooling herself about it. She'd always cared just a little more, and in an entirely
different way, for Ron than she did for Harry. Since they'd first met, it had been there. The arguing,
the sniping, the constant bickering - it wasn't hatred. It was the only way they knew how to express
their feelings for each other.
Until now.
Upstairs, Harry sighed in relief then smiled.
After a few long moments, the two of them drew back from each other. Hermione shyly smiling,
feeling strange, yet not so strange, about what had happened. Ron, on the other hand, was blushing
ever so slightly. That was all that needed to be said between them. It was solved through one simple
gesture. A gesture that was long overdue.
"It's about time!" called Harry's voice from up on the landing. He grinned when the two of them
looked up at him. He waved. "Everything all right, then?"
Hermione stood up, her hands on her hips. 'Take the spell off, Harry!' she demanded.
"What was that, Hermione?" Harry leaned against the railing, cupping a hand to his ear. "I
couldn't quite hear you. What did you want?"
Her jaw tightened. 'This isn't funny!'
Standing straight, Harry shrugged. "Sorry, I can't hear what you're saying. It must not be that
important, then. Well ... g'night!" He opened the door to the boys' dormitory then let it fall shut
behind him. Before he headed back to his room, he used his wand to lock the door. With no
voices, the two of them would be stuck alone in the common room until another Gryffindor returned,
one who could remove the barrier or take the spell off of them.
Ron and Hermione dashed up the stairs after Harry disappeared into the dormitory. Ron grabbed the
doorknob but it wouldn't budge an inch. He yanked a few times then slammed a fist on it. He
reached for his wand but remembered that without a voice it was pointless to even try it. Kicking
the door one final time, he turned around and leaned against it.
Hermione, though, was laughing. She couldn't stop herself either. Not even when Ron wanted to
know what was so bloody funny about it. It wasn't long, however, until he was reduced to silent
laughter with her. The two of them kept on until they couldn't stand. It was a funny situation, both
had to admit at this point. That it took Harry removing their voices to make them realize exactly
what they felt for each other.
'I'm still going to get him back,' Ron told her once they'd calmed down enough.
'I'll help you,' she added, a broad smile on her face. 'I'll definitely help you!'
The End