Winner's, Keeper's
By Chinesemoon
I expected her to be surprised when I told her. I expected her to jump up and hug me. I guess I expected her to be proud; to glow at me and looked so impressed. I expected too much, I guess.
I was drenched in water from the practice. It started to rain just as we were walking back up to the Castle. Everyone ran, but not me. Oh no, I walked slowly. I guess I was still pretty surprised I got the spot on the team at all. It was quite shocking, really. Rain just soaked me to the bone as I walked. I kept thinking of what Harry would say. I kept thinking of what Hermione would say.
Yes, Hermione. She was what I was thinking about. My other best friend. Wouldn't she be pleased, I thought as I walked. She would never take the Mickey of me now. I was on the bloody Quidddich team for Merlin's sake!
When I walked into the room, Hermione was as Hermione is. She was leaning over about thirty books at once, trying to read all of them at one time. How silly. How silly of Hermione Granger.
That's how she was though. That's the way Hermione was. Bookish. Smart. Beautiful.
She looked up at me. Her mouth quite literally fell open. I grinned at her. Suddenly, the Common Room was empty from all but her. She slammed closed a thick looking book and stared up at me, totally speechless. Her eyes trailed over my wet Quiddich uniform. The red and gold that I was fully clad in reflected in her eyes. I thought she was going to faint.
She shakily pushed away from the table and stood up. I was aware of Fred and George entering the room. So was she. She glanced at them, then back at me, quite aghast.
I wanted her to fall into my arms and hold me. I'm a stupid dreamer like that.
She walked over to me.
"I made it," I said to her, grinning like mad. My ears were turning red, I was sure of it. "I made the team Hermione. I'm the new Keeper!"
She continued to stare at me. Finally she made a noise and walked right up to me.
She carefully touched some of my red hair. She seemed like she had wanted to touch my hair since the time I walked into the Common Room. I frowned at her slightly, some of my instant joy floating away.
"I—" Hermione began, smiling faintly. "Oh gosh, Ron! I'm so pleased for you!"
She was pleased for me. She was bloody pleased for me!
Was that it? Was that all? So she was pleased for me. Great. Yes, I wanted to hear that from her. I really did. So I was happy, right? Wasn't I happy?
Hermione carefully hugged me. It was brief. Then she pulled away. Maybe she was afraid of getting wet. She still stared at me in my Quiddich uniform. She began backing away slowly. She sat back down at the desk.
"Don't worry little bro!" Fred said, coming up to me and clapping me on the back. "George and I will give you a kiss if you want!"
I felt my face burning. My stupid brothers. Me and my stupid, stupid bloody brothers! I saw Hermione blush despite how tired she looked.
People started congratulating me. I tried to forget about Hermione. She nodded off to sleep. People were shouting and yelling right next to her and she still slept on. She'd been working way to hard lately.
Harry walked in at last from his detention. He looked annoyed and tired too. I felt like there was no one around for me to share my joy with.
Harry grinned at me all the same once the "big" news was broken to him. I sighed and pointed over at Hermione, still sleeping.
"She said so was pleased for me," I told Harry, trying to mask my disappointment. He looked at me and I knew he could see right through me. He could read minds, that damn boy-who-lived. He read my mind every time I thought about Hermione.
Night came. I was almost happy to escape all the bloody noise people were making around me. Yeah, that's right, I'm now a bloody Keeper for Gryffindor. Who cared? It didn't seem as important to me now. I was awful anyway. I would probably be kicked off the team within a week.
That's me, always thinking the worst. Ron Weasley, ill-tempered pessimist.
I went to bed with everyone else. It must have been three in the morning and I still hadn't gotten to sleep. Neville was snoring loudly, God, even Harry was unconscious!
I got out of bed and glanced in the mirror. My pajama's were too small for me. They had been for a few years. I didn't like how you could see so much of my foot. I was too damn tall.
I walked down to the Common Room. The fireplace was still burning in the night. Maybe I could burn my heart. Why not? My brain was already black ash. What the hell, right?
I walked into the center of the Common Room, with a loud sigh. There was movement from one of the large armchairs.
Hermione turned around and stared at me.
My shoulders slumped. Bloody wonderful. Just what I wanted. I ignored that little voice in my head that told me to leave quick, and walked over and stood in front of the armchair.
I would have normally sat down, but Crookshanks was taking up the other chair. Just as I thought, Hermione was holding a book. On top of the book was a roll of parchment and a quill. I couldn't see what she was writing for she had covered it when I walked over.
"Why are you up so late?" Hermione asked, frowning at me. "Why aren't you asleep?"
"What's with the questions?" I barked. "What do you care?"
Hermione looked slightly hurt. Why was I fighting with her? What was I doing? Why was I so mad? I didn't think I could answer that right then.
Hermione regained control of herself and glared at me. "Fine. Be that way. Maybe I don't care what you do!"
"Well you certainly seemed that way earlier!" I snapped at her.
"What you talking about?" Hermione said, frowning even harder. "What the—"
"When I told you I was the new Keeper!" I said, hissing. "You said you were pleased for me!"
"And I was," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows. "What's wrong with that?"
I looked around wildly. I felt like ripping paper. I eyed Hermione's parchment.
"What is that?" I asked quickly, pointing at the paper. "A letter to Vicky?"
Hermione glared at me. She was always doing that. She glared at me more than she smiled I thought. But then again, I was the one who started this fight. I couldn't help it! Maybe she should be aware of when she hurts someone. Maybe I should hurt her back!
"Yes," Hermione said hurriedly. "I just happened to be—"
"Ha!" I said, cutting her off and not allowing her to finish. "Writing to him again! And I suppose you think he's all that, do you? Well, I suppose girls find a Seeker so much more dashing than a Keeper!"
Hermione looked like she was going to cry. I didn't care. Not one mite did I care at that moment. Maybe she would hit me. Good.
"I just so happen to think that Keepers have a very important job!" Hermione shouted, raising her voice loudly. Soon, we'd have woken up the whole Tower. "I think they are quite impressive—"
"But not like Vicky," I said. "He's so much better. He's famous, and rich, and he's got girls hanging on him!"
"Viktor isn't like that!" Hermione said. "He's my friend!"
"Friend!" I sputtered. "Friend indeed! And I suppose you're telling your friend all about this?!"
A tear slipped from Hermione's cheek. She stood up. I towered over her. She shot daggers at me.
"I was in fact telling him about you!" She screamed shrilly. "About how bloody stupid you act sometimes!"
"Oh yeah?" I seethed. "Well tell him I don't give a bloody hell what he thinks!"
"I was telling him how clueless you are!" Hermione took a step closer to me, tears now falling from her face freely. "I was telling him how idiotic you are and how—"
We were almost touching, that's how close we were. Hermione looked up at me and I looked down at her. Was it just me, or was time stopped?
"How what?" I said, lowering my voice slightly. "How what Hermione?"
Hermione glared at me. "You don't show your feelings Ron Weasley! You're a Keeper now, buck up!"
"I show plenty more than you do," I said.
"Oh?" Hermione said, hissing at me like a snake. "Oh really? What do you know about what I feel?"
I placed both my hands on her shoulders. I thought I might shake her or knock her over. I was breathing so hard it drowned out the sound of my heart beating.
"I know that you don't give a hell about my being a Keeper," I said.
"You could win if you wanted to," Hermione breathed quietly. It was the first thing she said that hadn't been shouting in several minutes.
"I could win?" I repeated, also lowering my voice for the first time. "I could win what?"
"The game," Hermione breathed. "If you played it the right way, you would win this."
I had a feeling she wasn't talking about Quiddich anymore. Why did she talk in riddles? And why was she staring at me like that? Why could everyone read my mind but I couldn't read hers?
"I try," I whispered. "I always try Hermione. But it's to hard to stop it. It's to bloody hard."
"That's what a Keeper does," She said. She touched my cheek. She didn't seem angry anymore. I was so confused. I would never understand Hermione – or the feeling that her touch brought forth. "A Keeper protects."
I wanted to lean in and touch her. Merlin help me, I wanted to kiss her! I've known Hermione a long time, and it was the first time that the desire to kiss my best friend had grown so urgent within me.
Hermione looked at me a long moment. Neither of us spoke.
"You're a Keeper now," Hermione said, quietly in my ear. "Now be a winner."
That was it. I had to do it. I had to kiss her. Only – I was frozen. I couldn't move at all. Bloody hell...
Hermione backed away from me and let her hand drop. We stood several feet apart now. I had lost my chance. It was gone! It would never come back... right?
"Goodnight Ron," Hermione whispered. She looked down. When she looked up again, she smiled at me faintly.
"Winner's, Keeper's Ron," She said.
She disappeared up to her room for the night.
FINIS
I expected her to be surprised when I told her. I expected her to jump up and hug me. I guess I expected her to be proud; to glow at me and looked so impressed. I expected too much, I guess.
I was drenched in water from the practice. It started to rain just as we were walking back up to the Castle. Everyone ran, but not me. Oh no, I walked slowly. I guess I was still pretty surprised I got the spot on the team at all. It was quite shocking, really. Rain just soaked me to the bone as I walked. I kept thinking of what Harry would say. I kept thinking of what Hermione would say.
Yes, Hermione. She was what I was thinking about. My other best friend. Wouldn't she be pleased, I thought as I walked. She would never take the Mickey of me now. I was on the bloody Quidddich team for Merlin's sake!
When I walked into the room, Hermione was as Hermione is. She was leaning over about thirty books at once, trying to read all of them at one time. How silly. How silly of Hermione Granger.
That's how she was though. That's the way Hermione was. Bookish. Smart. Beautiful.
She looked up at me. Her mouth quite literally fell open. I grinned at her. Suddenly, the Common Room was empty from all but her. She slammed closed a thick looking book and stared up at me, totally speechless. Her eyes trailed over my wet Quiddich uniform. The red and gold that I was fully clad in reflected in her eyes. I thought she was going to faint.
She shakily pushed away from the table and stood up. I was aware of Fred and George entering the room. So was she. She glanced at them, then back at me, quite aghast.
I wanted her to fall into my arms and hold me. I'm a stupid dreamer like that.
She walked over to me.
"I made it," I said to her, grinning like mad. My ears were turning red, I was sure of it. "I made the team Hermione. I'm the new Keeper!"
She continued to stare at me. Finally she made a noise and walked right up to me.
She carefully touched some of my red hair. She seemed like she had wanted to touch my hair since the time I walked into the Common Room. I frowned at her slightly, some of my instant joy floating away.
"I—" Hermione began, smiling faintly. "Oh gosh, Ron! I'm so pleased for you!"
She was pleased for me. She was bloody pleased for me!
Was that it? Was that all? So she was pleased for me. Great. Yes, I wanted to hear that from her. I really did. So I was happy, right? Wasn't I happy?
Hermione carefully hugged me. It was brief. Then she pulled away. Maybe she was afraid of getting wet. She still stared at me in my Quiddich uniform. She began backing away slowly. She sat back down at the desk.
"Don't worry little bro!" Fred said, coming up to me and clapping me on the back. "George and I will give you a kiss if you want!"
I felt my face burning. My stupid brothers. Me and my stupid, stupid bloody brothers! I saw Hermione blush despite how tired she looked.
People started congratulating me. I tried to forget about Hermione. She nodded off to sleep. People were shouting and yelling right next to her and she still slept on. She'd been working way to hard lately.
Harry walked in at last from his detention. He looked annoyed and tired too. I felt like there was no one around for me to share my joy with.
Harry grinned at me all the same once the "big" news was broken to him. I sighed and pointed over at Hermione, still sleeping.
"She said so was pleased for me," I told Harry, trying to mask my disappointment. He looked at me and I knew he could see right through me. He could read minds, that damn boy-who-lived. He read my mind every time I thought about Hermione.
Night came. I was almost happy to escape all the bloody noise people were making around me. Yeah, that's right, I'm now a bloody Keeper for Gryffindor. Who cared? It didn't seem as important to me now. I was awful anyway. I would probably be kicked off the team within a week.
That's me, always thinking the worst. Ron Weasley, ill-tempered pessimist.
I went to bed with everyone else. It must have been three in the morning and I still hadn't gotten to sleep. Neville was snoring loudly, God, even Harry was unconscious!
I got out of bed and glanced in the mirror. My pajama's were too small for me. They had been for a few years. I didn't like how you could see so much of my foot. I was too damn tall.
I walked down to the Common Room. The fireplace was still burning in the night. Maybe I could burn my heart. Why not? My brain was already black ash. What the hell, right?
I walked into the center of the Common Room, with a loud sigh. There was movement from one of the large armchairs.
Hermione turned around and stared at me.
My shoulders slumped. Bloody wonderful. Just what I wanted. I ignored that little voice in my head that told me to leave quick, and walked over and stood in front of the armchair.
I would have normally sat down, but Crookshanks was taking up the other chair. Just as I thought, Hermione was holding a book. On top of the book was a roll of parchment and a quill. I couldn't see what she was writing for she had covered it when I walked over.
"Why are you up so late?" Hermione asked, frowning at me. "Why aren't you asleep?"
"What's with the questions?" I barked. "What do you care?"
Hermione looked slightly hurt. Why was I fighting with her? What was I doing? Why was I so mad? I didn't think I could answer that right then.
Hermione regained control of herself and glared at me. "Fine. Be that way. Maybe I don't care what you do!"
"Well you certainly seemed that way earlier!" I snapped at her.
"What you talking about?" Hermione said, frowning even harder. "What the—"
"When I told you I was the new Keeper!" I said, hissing. "You said you were pleased for me!"
"And I was," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows. "What's wrong with that?"
I looked around wildly. I felt like ripping paper. I eyed Hermione's parchment.
"What is that?" I asked quickly, pointing at the paper. "A letter to Vicky?"
Hermione glared at me. She was always doing that. She glared at me more than she smiled I thought. But then again, I was the one who started this fight. I couldn't help it! Maybe she should be aware of when she hurts someone. Maybe I should hurt her back!
"Yes," Hermione said hurriedly. "I just happened to be—"
"Ha!" I said, cutting her off and not allowing her to finish. "Writing to him again! And I suppose you think he's all that, do you? Well, I suppose girls find a Seeker so much more dashing than a Keeper!"
Hermione looked like she was going to cry. I didn't care. Not one mite did I care at that moment. Maybe she would hit me. Good.
"I just so happen to think that Keepers have a very important job!" Hermione shouted, raising her voice loudly. Soon, we'd have woken up the whole Tower. "I think they are quite impressive—"
"But not like Vicky," I said. "He's so much better. He's famous, and rich, and he's got girls hanging on him!"
"Viktor isn't like that!" Hermione said. "He's my friend!"
"Friend!" I sputtered. "Friend indeed! And I suppose you're telling your friend all about this?!"
A tear slipped from Hermione's cheek. She stood up. I towered over her. She shot daggers at me.
"I was in fact telling him about you!" She screamed shrilly. "About how bloody stupid you act sometimes!"
"Oh yeah?" I seethed. "Well tell him I don't give a bloody hell what he thinks!"
"I was telling him how clueless you are!" Hermione took a step closer to me, tears now falling from her face freely. "I was telling him how idiotic you are and how—"
We were almost touching, that's how close we were. Hermione looked up at me and I looked down at her. Was it just me, or was time stopped?
"How what?" I said, lowering my voice slightly. "How what Hermione?"
Hermione glared at me. "You don't show your feelings Ron Weasley! You're a Keeper now, buck up!"
"I show plenty more than you do," I said.
"Oh?" Hermione said, hissing at me like a snake. "Oh really? What do you know about what I feel?"
I placed both my hands on her shoulders. I thought I might shake her or knock her over. I was breathing so hard it drowned out the sound of my heart beating.
"I know that you don't give a hell about my being a Keeper," I said.
"You could win if you wanted to," Hermione breathed quietly. It was the first thing she said that hadn't been shouting in several minutes.
"I could win?" I repeated, also lowering my voice for the first time. "I could win what?"
"The game," Hermione breathed. "If you played it the right way, you would win this."
I had a feeling she wasn't talking about Quiddich anymore. Why did she talk in riddles? And why was she staring at me like that? Why could everyone read my mind but I couldn't read hers?
"I try," I whispered. "I always try Hermione. But it's to hard to stop it. It's to bloody hard."
"That's what a Keeper does," She said. She touched my cheek. She didn't seem angry anymore. I was so confused. I would never understand Hermione – or the feeling that her touch brought forth. "A Keeper protects."
I wanted to lean in and touch her. Merlin help me, I wanted to kiss her! I've known Hermione a long time, and it was the first time that the desire to kiss my best friend had grown so urgent within me.
Hermione looked at me a long moment. Neither of us spoke.
"You're a Keeper now," Hermione said, quietly in my ear. "Now be a winner."
That was it. I had to do it. I had to kiss her. Only – I was frozen. I couldn't move at all. Bloody hell...
Hermione backed away from me and let her hand drop. We stood several feet apart now. I had lost my chance. It was gone! It would never come back... right?
"Goodnight Ron," Hermione whispered. She looked down. When she looked up again, she smiled at me faintly.
"Winner's, Keeper's Ron," She said.
She disappeared up to her room for the night.
FINIS