Ron could feel his ears burning. They hadn't written to him all summer, nor had they replied to anything he sent them. Why would Harry have asked her out? He knew how Ron felt about her!
Ron could not contain himself any longer. He stormed up to Harry and Hermione, his mind set. He stopped abruptly, and did his best to relax and calm down. Ron strolled over to them, almost nonchallantly. His shoulders rolled back, chin in the air but, the burning anger in his eyes gave him away. Hermione and Harry turned to him in complete shock, both of them in sheer terror as to what was to happen next. Ron took a deep breath wanting to choke out the pain, rage, and shock in his voice.
"What are you doing here?" Seemed to be the best that his brain could come up with and those were the words that fell from his mouth.
"We- just- erm- Ron, please don't be angry!" Hermione stumbled over her words.
"Harry, what's going on?" Ron demanded, turning his attention to the boy now.
"Well, I-" Harry took a deep breath, "You weren't going to ask her out so I did."
"I will not hit Harry. I will not beat the bloody snot out of my best friend. I will not make them hate me. I will not listen to Hermione's terrified screams as I kill her boyfriend. I will not ruin everything I have. I will not hit Harry."
Ron chanted to himself. His fists were clenched by his sides, his whole body seemed to be shaking violently.
"Traitor." Ron mumbled. He would be the man here. He would walk away. The red-haired boy turned around and and with a deep breath let the enevitable tears burn his eyes.
"Ron, you're the traitor!" Harry called out.
"How so?" Ron asked calmly, without turning around.
"I don't know. Thought maybe it'd drive you mad. Hoping you would hit me. Take a swing, it will make us both feel better."
"No." Ron smirked, "I want you to feel bad."
Ron stalked off. His feet seemed to be sinking into the sidewalk, with each step Ron became uncertain as to wether he had the strength to keep walking. Terrible thoughts struck his mind. What would it feel like to stop feeling? What would it be like if he never had to walk again? He'd never have to back to school, feel poor, be made fun of, and he'd never have to feel pain again. That's because dead people didn't feel anything.
"Hey, Ron." Someone called to him. He turned around, resentfully dropping his thoughts of suicide.
"Hey, Mandy." He smiled at a pretty girl, a Ravenclaw, that walked toward him.
She was rather tall, though she was shorter than Ron. She had sparkling hazel eyes. Her hair was past her shoulders, it was light brown with big round curls; she had thin and short bangs sitting neatly on her forehead. Her nose was dead center.
"How has your summer been going?" She smiled, greeting Ron with an unnecessary hug.
"All right," Ron fibbed, "And yours?"
"Boring. I've had nothing to do. I've been coming down here everyday."
"Why? I mean, Diagon Alley can't be that exciting"
"Well, it isn't. But I was hoping to run into someone..." She had trailed off.
Ron had lived with Ginny long enough to know what she meant by that. She was waiting to run into a certain boy.
"Really, now..." Ron smiled, "Who?" He was stunned at his own daring. He was going into uncharted territory: asking a mere acquaintance for possibly her darkest secret.
Her cheeks burned red as she mustered out a feeble word that sounded oddly like, "You."
Ron could not contain himself any longer. He stormed up to Harry and Hermione, his mind set. He stopped abruptly, and did his best to relax and calm down. Ron strolled over to them, almost nonchallantly. His shoulders rolled back, chin in the air but, the burning anger in his eyes gave him away. Hermione and Harry turned to him in complete shock, both of them in sheer terror as to what was to happen next. Ron took a deep breath wanting to choke out the pain, rage, and shock in his voice.
"What are you doing here?" Seemed to be the best that his brain could come up with and those were the words that fell from his mouth.
"We- just- erm- Ron, please don't be angry!" Hermione stumbled over her words.
"Harry, what's going on?" Ron demanded, turning his attention to the boy now.
"Well, I-" Harry took a deep breath, "You weren't going to ask her out so I did."
"I will not hit Harry. I will not beat the bloody snot out of my best friend. I will not make them hate me. I will not listen to Hermione's terrified screams as I kill her boyfriend. I will not ruin everything I have. I will not hit Harry."
Ron chanted to himself. His fists were clenched by his sides, his whole body seemed to be shaking violently.
"Traitor." Ron mumbled. He would be the man here. He would walk away. The red-haired boy turned around and and with a deep breath let the enevitable tears burn his eyes.
"Ron, you're the traitor!" Harry called out.
"How so?" Ron asked calmly, without turning around.
"I don't know. Thought maybe it'd drive you mad. Hoping you would hit me. Take a swing, it will make us both feel better."
"No." Ron smirked, "I want you to feel bad."
Ron stalked off. His feet seemed to be sinking into the sidewalk, with each step Ron became uncertain as to wether he had the strength to keep walking. Terrible thoughts struck his mind. What would it feel like to stop feeling? What would it be like if he never had to walk again? He'd never have to back to school, feel poor, be made fun of, and he'd never have to feel pain again. That's because dead people didn't feel anything.
"Hey, Ron." Someone called to him. He turned around, resentfully dropping his thoughts of suicide.
"Hey, Mandy." He smiled at a pretty girl, a Ravenclaw, that walked toward him.
She was rather tall, though she was shorter than Ron. She had sparkling hazel eyes. Her hair was past her shoulders, it was light brown with big round curls; she had thin and short bangs sitting neatly on her forehead. Her nose was dead center.
"How has your summer been going?" She smiled, greeting Ron with an unnecessary hug.
"All right," Ron fibbed, "And yours?"
"Boring. I've had nothing to do. I've been coming down here everyday."
"Why? I mean, Diagon Alley can't be that exciting"
"Well, it isn't. But I was hoping to run into someone..." She had trailed off.
Ron had lived with Ginny long enough to know what she meant by that. She was waiting to run into a certain boy.
"Really, now..." Ron smiled, "Who?" He was stunned at his own daring. He was going into uncharted territory: asking a mere acquaintance for possibly her darkest secret.
Her cheeks burned red as she mustered out a feeble word that sounded oddly like, "You."