Well, sort of.
author's notes: harry and ron is just so incredibly plausible, i decided to write some pointless Ron//Harry. Third Year, yes, i know this sounds young, but as of late i've been reading the third book. so sue me. or... flame me. either one. o_O;
Ron stared out of a frostbitten window as Harry poured over a potions essay Hermione had advised him to do that second. He looked at the opaque white window, the reflection of Harry bounding back at him. He smiled affectionately as Harry scratched the back of his head every now and then, scribbling out something he had written.
'I don't get it...' Ron thought to himself. 'How's he doing it? He's just found out that Sirius Black betrayed his parents. He just found out that Black is out to get him because of that scar he got unwillingly. He's a target just for being alive! How fair's that? How can he stand to do a potions essay?' Ron knew that Harry was forced to do this essay. Tomorrow was the beginning of Christmas Break. He was forced to do it last minute.
"Hey, Harry..." Ron said vaguely, still staring at Harry's reflection in the mirror.
"Argh, it's boomslang skin... not wolfsbane- What is it, Ron!" Harry shouted, and in frustration, scribbling out another line. Ron was a bit taken aback.
"Just wanted to say... it's not important..." he trailed off. Harry glared at him, rolled his eyes and re-did the line of his essay about boomslang skin.
'I'm an idiot, Harry's not gay!' he thought desperately, his head sinking an inch as he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked down at his legs, his ears turning beet red. 'Not to mention that even if he was, he wouldn't like me. Not to mention that I cried my eyes out last year in the Forbidden Forest...' he shuddered. Ron had lost track of time. Harry's seat was empty. He snapped back to reality and headed upstairs.
As soon as he opened the door he saw the Harry's sillhouette shoot straight down to the mattress of his bed.
"Harry?" he said uncertainly. Even if Harry wasn't asleep, he was probably in no mood to talk. Sympathy rushed though him as he closed the door. As he climbed down the steps he produced Scabbers from his pocket.
"At least you'll always listen to me..." he said glumly to the brown and twitchy rat. Scabbers looked up at him, his beady black eyes weren't darting around as they usually did these days. "Bloody cat must've scared the fur off you. I suppose once Hermione finds out what a rotten beast that Crookshanks is she'll abandon it. Either that or I'm leaving you at home next year." he whispered, petting Scabbers's head a bit harder than he had meant to. He squeaked angrily at Ron, finally nipping his finger so he'd stop. "What's got your tail in a twist? Settle down, Scabbers!"
Just then Fred and George came stumbling through the portrait hole laughing heartily.
"Joo' see the look on Snape's face?" George said, clutching his stomach. Fred was laughing so hard he coudn't have replied if he wanted to. Ron panicked and shot up from his seat, sending Scabbers flying.
"Hey! Ickle Ronniekins is out of bed!" George said, regaining composure. Fred wiped away a few tears, chuckled a bit more and spluttered out something in a whisper to George. Geore thought about what Fred had whispered and said, "Ron, mind if we have a word with ya?"
Ron turned pale and weakly nodded. Fred and George pulled up two chairs by Ron and stared at Ron intently. The two of them seemed to be staring right through Ron. Fred spoke first, having regained his ability to string together a sentence without breaking out in hysterical laughing.
"So, Ronnie, who's the lucky girl?"
"Hermione! I know it, isn't it Ron?"
Ron gulped. There was no way he was telling them.
"W-What..." Ron turned scarlet through and through, embarrasment pulsing through his blood like poison. Fred and George laughed again. Ron scowled.
"Since when's my personal life been any of yer business..." he muttered, looking down at scabbers, who was rolling around. Was it just him, or was Scabbers also laughing at him? He dropped the rat on the seat next to him.
"Since When?" said George.
"Well, lesse, since you were eleven." said Fred.
"How about, September first, when you first started Hogwarts." George finished. Ron scowled harder, failing to believe that these people were related to him.
"S'not Hermione..." he mumbled. George looked unconvinced and demanded,
"Who is it, then?"
"If you tell me, I swear to tell you that George here fancies Katie Bell!" Fred said playfully. George hit him over the head.
"You like 'er too, Fred!" George said, turning slightly pink. Then Fred did something to make Ron's stomach do about five backflips.
"Unless it's... boys Ronnie here, fancies!" he suggested, raising his eyebrows. Ron turned white (he was glad he turned white instead of pink) and gave an extrememly forced laugh.
"Right, I've been dreaming of snogging Harry all night long." he said with another fake laugh which (he was glad again) sounded almost completely true. Fred and George laughed heartily at this.
"Now, now, Ronnie! Won't you tell us, your dear brothers, who you like?" George pleaded. Ron narrowed his eyes.
"Why're you so keen on knowing who I fancy?" he asked suspiciusly. They didn't answer but simply questioned him further. In his brain he was going through every girl's name he could think of.
"Erm...H-" he was about to say Harry. "Hermione." George smirked and laughed. Fred frowned.
"What'd you lie to us for, then?" Fred said, doubtfully.
"He didn't want us to know! But we're so damn persuasive, aren't we, Ronnie?" George grinned. Ron smiled weakly.
"Er... yeah." He yawned overly huge and said in a tone of fake sleepiness "I'm soooo tired, off to bed. Night guys..." he said, his heart pounding through his chest. He'd just admitted he liked Harry. Well, sort of.
author's notes: i know, a horrible place to leave off. =_=; if i should continue, tell me. since i get absolutely 0 reviews on evewwyting i probably won't xD oh well, so damn fun to write, anyways.
author's notes: harry and ron is just so incredibly plausible, i decided to write some pointless Ron//Harry. Third Year, yes, i know this sounds young, but as of late i've been reading the third book. so sue me. or... flame me. either one. o_O;
Ron stared out of a frostbitten window as Harry poured over a potions essay Hermione had advised him to do that second. He looked at the opaque white window, the reflection of Harry bounding back at him. He smiled affectionately as Harry scratched the back of his head every now and then, scribbling out something he had written.
'I don't get it...' Ron thought to himself. 'How's he doing it? He's just found out that Sirius Black betrayed his parents. He just found out that Black is out to get him because of that scar he got unwillingly. He's a target just for being alive! How fair's that? How can he stand to do a potions essay?' Ron knew that Harry was forced to do this essay. Tomorrow was the beginning of Christmas Break. He was forced to do it last minute.
"Hey, Harry..." Ron said vaguely, still staring at Harry's reflection in the mirror.
"Argh, it's boomslang skin... not wolfsbane- What is it, Ron!" Harry shouted, and in frustration, scribbling out another line. Ron was a bit taken aback.
"Just wanted to say... it's not important..." he trailed off. Harry glared at him, rolled his eyes and re-did the line of his essay about boomslang skin.
'I'm an idiot, Harry's not gay!' he thought desperately, his head sinking an inch as he stared at himself in the mirror. He looked down at his legs, his ears turning beet red. 'Not to mention that even if he was, he wouldn't like me. Not to mention that I cried my eyes out last year in the Forbidden Forest...' he shuddered. Ron had lost track of time. Harry's seat was empty. He snapped back to reality and headed upstairs.
As soon as he opened the door he saw the Harry's sillhouette shoot straight down to the mattress of his bed.
"Harry?" he said uncertainly. Even if Harry wasn't asleep, he was probably in no mood to talk. Sympathy rushed though him as he closed the door. As he climbed down the steps he produced Scabbers from his pocket.
"At least you'll always listen to me..." he said glumly to the brown and twitchy rat. Scabbers looked up at him, his beady black eyes weren't darting around as they usually did these days. "Bloody cat must've scared the fur off you. I suppose once Hermione finds out what a rotten beast that Crookshanks is she'll abandon it. Either that or I'm leaving you at home next year." he whispered, petting Scabbers's head a bit harder than he had meant to. He squeaked angrily at Ron, finally nipping his finger so he'd stop. "What's got your tail in a twist? Settle down, Scabbers!"
Just then Fred and George came stumbling through the portrait hole laughing heartily.
"Joo' see the look on Snape's face?" George said, clutching his stomach. Fred was laughing so hard he coudn't have replied if he wanted to. Ron panicked and shot up from his seat, sending Scabbers flying.
"Hey! Ickle Ronniekins is out of bed!" George said, regaining composure. Fred wiped away a few tears, chuckled a bit more and spluttered out something in a whisper to George. Geore thought about what Fred had whispered and said, "Ron, mind if we have a word with ya?"
Ron turned pale and weakly nodded. Fred and George pulled up two chairs by Ron and stared at Ron intently. The two of them seemed to be staring right through Ron. Fred spoke first, having regained his ability to string together a sentence without breaking out in hysterical laughing.
"So, Ronnie, who's the lucky girl?"
"Hermione! I know it, isn't it Ron?"
Ron gulped. There was no way he was telling them.
"W-What..." Ron turned scarlet through and through, embarrasment pulsing through his blood like poison. Fred and George laughed again. Ron scowled.
"Since when's my personal life been any of yer business..." he muttered, looking down at scabbers, who was rolling around. Was it just him, or was Scabbers also laughing at him? He dropped the rat on the seat next to him.
"Since When?" said George.
"Well, lesse, since you were eleven." said Fred.
"How about, September first, when you first started Hogwarts." George finished. Ron scowled harder, failing to believe that these people were related to him.
"S'not Hermione..." he mumbled. George looked unconvinced and demanded,
"Who is it, then?"
"If you tell me, I swear to tell you that George here fancies Katie Bell!" Fred said playfully. George hit him over the head.
"You like 'er too, Fred!" George said, turning slightly pink. Then Fred did something to make Ron's stomach do about five backflips.
"Unless it's... boys Ronnie here, fancies!" he suggested, raising his eyebrows. Ron turned white (he was glad he turned white instead of pink) and gave an extrememly forced laugh.
"Right, I've been dreaming of snogging Harry all night long." he said with another fake laugh which (he was glad again) sounded almost completely true. Fred and George laughed heartily at this.
"Now, now, Ronnie! Won't you tell us, your dear brothers, who you like?" George pleaded. Ron narrowed his eyes.
"Why're you so keen on knowing who I fancy?" he asked suspiciusly. They didn't answer but simply questioned him further. In his brain he was going through every girl's name he could think of.
"Erm...H-" he was about to say Harry. "Hermione." George smirked and laughed. Fred frowned.
"What'd you lie to us for, then?" Fred said, doubtfully.
"He didn't want us to know! But we're so damn persuasive, aren't we, Ronnie?" George grinned. Ron smiled weakly.
"Er... yeah." He yawned overly huge and said in a tone of fake sleepiness "I'm soooo tired, off to bed. Night guys..." he said, his heart pounding through his chest. He'd just admitted he liked Harry. Well, sort of.
author's notes: i know, a horrible place to leave off. =_=; if i should continue, tell me. since i get absolutely 0 reviews on evewwyting i probably won't xD oh well, so damn fun to write, anyways.