Disclaimer: Why do we need these? Who's dumb enough to think Harry Potter
is ours?
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. I shouldn't have asked. Good night, Hermione," Ron sputtered out as he turned away from what he didn't want to see anymore. Ron sprinted to the staircase and disappeared behind the door to the dorm rooms, leaving Hermione behind, shell-shocked from the still-unanswered question.
"Yes, Ron, I do."
Harry had his ear to the door of the dorm room, hoping to catch any glimmer of the conversation below. Harry thought he heard Ron say something and then suddenly the door burst open and Harry landed flat on his back halfway across the room.
"Ow! Who was that? Oh, it's you. How did it go," the raven-haired boy asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Ron responded as he crawled onto his bed and closed the curtains surrounding it.
"Aw, come on. You know you want to. It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"
"You wouldn't know. You've never been in my place," Ron fumed. Harry hesitated. He knew Ron didn't really mean that, that Ron wasn't cruel enough to mean that.
"That was cold, Ron."
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just. never mind."
"You know, you'll feel a lot better if you tell someone what happened, Ron. And besides, maybe I can offer some advice, cause you know I'm the master of matters of the heart," Harry said with a smirk. Ron tried not to chuckle, but the urge was overpowering. Harry could see Ron's silhouette turn from his back facing Harry to lying on his back.
"She doesn't like me," Ron said after a heavy sigh.
"Did she say that?" Harry pressed.
"Not exactly," Ron admitted, "but the look on her face spoke volumes."
"But she didn't say it," Harry said.
"No, she didn't say it! What more do you want?" Ron snapped.
"Then all hope is not lost, now, is it?" Harry said slowly, emphasizing every word to try to calm Ron down. The last thing Harry needed was an angry best friend who may or may not be in a fight with his other best friend.
Ron sat up to face Harry, and opened the curtains surrounding his bed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I said. The words 'I don't like you' didn't come out of her mouth. Ergo," Harry added, using a word that made him look smart, "all hope is not lost. You can still talk to Hermione. I'm sure there's something she wants to talk to you about."
"No, there's not. She can't like me."
"And why's that?"
"I dunno, cause she would've said something sooner," Ron said.
"You didn't." Ron didn't respond, giving Harry the distinct impression that he had a point.
"Then what do I do?" Ron asked after a hesitation.
"Well, you don't run away. That's the first part."
"Yeah, thanks. Cause I couldn't figure that one out," Ron replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed.
"Judging by tonight's performance, you couldn't," Harry replied a bit caustically, but realized he probably shouldn't antagonize Ron. "Just tell her how much you like her."
"That didn't get me anywhere tonight either."
"According to what you said, though, you didn't give her a chance to respond. Give her a chance. Give her time, if she needs some. Even if it doesn't work out, Ron, she's still going to be one of your best friends. Your second-best friend, of course, cause I'm not even interested in you -" Ron cut off the sentence by throwing his pillow at Harry's head. Harry, in turn, responded by throwing his own. The serious conversation quickly degraded into a big pillow fight shifting between one bed and the other, until Harry managed to wrest Ron's pillow from his grasp, and sat on both.
"So. what are.ya gonna.do?" Harry asked panting.
"I don't know.I'll think of. something," Ron responded, also panting heavily. Both boys took a few deep breaths. Ron's face seemed to match his hair, while Harry's face began to resemble the colors of the Chicago Bulls. After a minute or so, Harry reminded Ron,
"Just don't forget that she'll still like you as a friend, no matter what happens."
"Yeah, I hope so. Thanks, Harry."
"Hey, what are friends for?"
The next day's classes went well, minus, of course, for Snape's finding a way to deduct 25 points from Gryffindor. Neville, despite Hermione's best efforts, couldn't make his De-Scaling Potion stay a shade of orange. Around nine o'clock, most of the Gryffindors had retired to their respective dorms, but Ron and Seamus were engaged in an epic wizarding chess battle, while Harry looked on. Hermione sat on one of the large chairs working on a Charms essay that, naturally, wasn't due for another week.
"Feeling the pressure, Weasley," Seamus asked.
"Nope. Checkmate," Ron answered, moving his queen to the far corner of the board. Seamus' mouth dropped.
"How the - What the - Why the - How did you do that?"
"I'm just good at this," Ron laughed.
"Yeah, yeah. Brag a little more, why don't ya?" Harry chuckled. "I should head up to bed. Ron, don't forget about practice tomorrow." Harry got about halfway up the stairs before he stopped and called out, "Hey Shea, I got something I wanted to run by you for the next DA Meeting. Mind coming up here for a sec?"
"Yeah, sure. Be right there. Ron, I'm gonna whoop you tomorrow, so you better look out," Seamus said as he got up from the chess table.
"Yeah, you keep thinking that," Ron answered as he packed up the chess pieces and left them on the table, mentally thanking Harry for pulling Seamus upstairs and away from him and Hermione.
As soon as the other two boys were out of earshot, Ron walked to stand behind the back of Hermione's chair. "So." Hermione looked up and behind her to see the red face of Ron blending well into the red-colored chair.
"So?" she responded. Ron couldn't think of anything to say, so he let it pass. He just turned a deeper shade of red than it already was. After an awkward moment, Hermione continued. "Why did you run off last night?"
Ron had to muster some courage to continue the conversation, but he managed to do it. "I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to hear your answer."
"Can you come around to the front? My neck is starting to ache."
"Oh, sorry."
"Why wouldn't you want to hear my answer," asked the always- analytical Hermione.
"I guess I was just afraid of hearing no. I didn't want to lose you as a friend if you did think that."
"Well, I wouldn't let that happen. You should know that, Ron. You know both Harry and I would never do that to you."
"Yeah, Harry told me the same thing, but thanks," Ron said.
"You shouldn't have run off last night. You wouldn't have been disappointed."
Ron's pulse quickened. Where was she going with this? "What do you mean, Hermione?"
"I mean this, Ron," She pulled him close and pecked him on the cheek. He didn't pull away, allowing it to happen. As she pulled back, he tilted his head to see her face.
"You mean - "
"Yes, Ron. I like you too."
Ron wasn't sure how he got up to bed that night. After he and Hermione had had their little encounter, Ron floated up the stairs and into the dorm room. This time, two boys were waiting, ears to the wall. Obviously, Harry had informed Seamus of exactly why he needed to pull him out of the Common Room. As soon as they gathered themselves together, the older, raven-haired boy asked,
"How did it go?"
"Thanks, Harry. For being my friend."
"No problem, Ron. No problem."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing. I shouldn't have asked. Good night, Hermione," Ron sputtered out as he turned away from what he didn't want to see anymore. Ron sprinted to the staircase and disappeared behind the door to the dorm rooms, leaving Hermione behind, shell-shocked from the still-unanswered question.
"Yes, Ron, I do."
Harry had his ear to the door of the dorm room, hoping to catch any glimmer of the conversation below. Harry thought he heard Ron say something and then suddenly the door burst open and Harry landed flat on his back halfway across the room.
"Ow! Who was that? Oh, it's you. How did it go," the raven-haired boy asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Ron responded as he crawled onto his bed and closed the curtains surrounding it.
"Aw, come on. You know you want to. It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"
"You wouldn't know. You've never been in my place," Ron fumed. Harry hesitated. He knew Ron didn't really mean that, that Ron wasn't cruel enough to mean that.
"That was cold, Ron."
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just. never mind."
"You know, you'll feel a lot better if you tell someone what happened, Ron. And besides, maybe I can offer some advice, cause you know I'm the master of matters of the heart," Harry said with a smirk. Ron tried not to chuckle, but the urge was overpowering. Harry could see Ron's silhouette turn from his back facing Harry to lying on his back.
"She doesn't like me," Ron said after a heavy sigh.
"Did she say that?" Harry pressed.
"Not exactly," Ron admitted, "but the look on her face spoke volumes."
"But she didn't say it," Harry said.
"No, she didn't say it! What more do you want?" Ron snapped.
"Then all hope is not lost, now, is it?" Harry said slowly, emphasizing every word to try to calm Ron down. The last thing Harry needed was an angry best friend who may or may not be in a fight with his other best friend.
Ron sat up to face Harry, and opened the curtains surrounding his bed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I said. The words 'I don't like you' didn't come out of her mouth. Ergo," Harry added, using a word that made him look smart, "all hope is not lost. You can still talk to Hermione. I'm sure there's something she wants to talk to you about."
"No, there's not. She can't like me."
"And why's that?"
"I dunno, cause she would've said something sooner," Ron said.
"You didn't." Ron didn't respond, giving Harry the distinct impression that he had a point.
"Then what do I do?" Ron asked after a hesitation.
"Well, you don't run away. That's the first part."
"Yeah, thanks. Cause I couldn't figure that one out," Ron replied sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed.
"Judging by tonight's performance, you couldn't," Harry replied a bit caustically, but realized he probably shouldn't antagonize Ron. "Just tell her how much you like her."
"That didn't get me anywhere tonight either."
"According to what you said, though, you didn't give her a chance to respond. Give her a chance. Give her time, if she needs some. Even if it doesn't work out, Ron, she's still going to be one of your best friends. Your second-best friend, of course, cause I'm not even interested in you -" Ron cut off the sentence by throwing his pillow at Harry's head. Harry, in turn, responded by throwing his own. The serious conversation quickly degraded into a big pillow fight shifting between one bed and the other, until Harry managed to wrest Ron's pillow from his grasp, and sat on both.
"So. what are.ya gonna.do?" Harry asked panting.
"I don't know.I'll think of. something," Ron responded, also panting heavily. Both boys took a few deep breaths. Ron's face seemed to match his hair, while Harry's face began to resemble the colors of the Chicago Bulls. After a minute or so, Harry reminded Ron,
"Just don't forget that she'll still like you as a friend, no matter what happens."
"Yeah, I hope so. Thanks, Harry."
"Hey, what are friends for?"
The next day's classes went well, minus, of course, for Snape's finding a way to deduct 25 points from Gryffindor. Neville, despite Hermione's best efforts, couldn't make his De-Scaling Potion stay a shade of orange. Around nine o'clock, most of the Gryffindors had retired to their respective dorms, but Ron and Seamus were engaged in an epic wizarding chess battle, while Harry looked on. Hermione sat on one of the large chairs working on a Charms essay that, naturally, wasn't due for another week.
"Feeling the pressure, Weasley," Seamus asked.
"Nope. Checkmate," Ron answered, moving his queen to the far corner of the board. Seamus' mouth dropped.
"How the - What the - Why the - How did you do that?"
"I'm just good at this," Ron laughed.
"Yeah, yeah. Brag a little more, why don't ya?" Harry chuckled. "I should head up to bed. Ron, don't forget about practice tomorrow." Harry got about halfway up the stairs before he stopped and called out, "Hey Shea, I got something I wanted to run by you for the next DA Meeting. Mind coming up here for a sec?"
"Yeah, sure. Be right there. Ron, I'm gonna whoop you tomorrow, so you better look out," Seamus said as he got up from the chess table.
"Yeah, you keep thinking that," Ron answered as he packed up the chess pieces and left them on the table, mentally thanking Harry for pulling Seamus upstairs and away from him and Hermione.
As soon as the other two boys were out of earshot, Ron walked to stand behind the back of Hermione's chair. "So." Hermione looked up and behind her to see the red face of Ron blending well into the red-colored chair.
"So?" she responded. Ron couldn't think of anything to say, so he let it pass. He just turned a deeper shade of red than it already was. After an awkward moment, Hermione continued. "Why did you run off last night?"
Ron had to muster some courage to continue the conversation, but he managed to do it. "I don't know. I guess I just didn't want to hear your answer."
"Can you come around to the front? My neck is starting to ache."
"Oh, sorry."
"Why wouldn't you want to hear my answer," asked the always- analytical Hermione.
"I guess I was just afraid of hearing no. I didn't want to lose you as a friend if you did think that."
"Well, I wouldn't let that happen. You should know that, Ron. You know both Harry and I would never do that to you."
"Yeah, Harry told me the same thing, but thanks," Ron said.
"You shouldn't have run off last night. You wouldn't have been disappointed."
Ron's pulse quickened. Where was she going with this? "What do you mean, Hermione?"
"I mean this, Ron," She pulled him close and pecked him on the cheek. He didn't pull away, allowing it to happen. As she pulled back, he tilted his head to see her face.
"You mean - "
"Yes, Ron. I like you too."
Ron wasn't sure how he got up to bed that night. After he and Hermione had had their little encounter, Ron floated up the stairs and into the dorm room. This time, two boys were waiting, ears to the wall. Obviously, Harry had informed Seamus of exactly why he needed to pull him out of the Common Room. As soon as they gathered themselves together, the older, raven-haired boy asked,
"How did it go?"
"Thanks, Harry. For being my friend."
"No problem, Ron. No problem."
