The Puppy Dances For You
Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, don't sue me. It shall make me very sad indeed.
Author's Note: This story idea just popped into my head when I was playing with my doggies. I hope you like it. It's RonHermione, by the way, deal with it.
Ron Weasley had been browsing, and browsing the shops for hours now. He had been searching for the perfect gift for so long now, that he was starting to feel extremely tired. His freckled face was scarlet, which clashed with his freckles miserably, from the cold, snow flakes speckled across a Weasley Sweater, a maroon Weasley sweater, atop which a faded "R" showed gently.
A set of torn and ragged blue jeans he also wore. His hair was a mixture of pure white snow, and flaming crimson. To complete the outrageous outfit was a set of old shoes, which had 'seen better days.'
He had seen so many gifts, but they just didn't seem right, for Hermione. Perfume, yes, he had gotten that last year, he couldn't get it again. All these presents were too, 'girly.' He wanted something Hermione could appreciate, something she could always have.
"Something she couldn't use up…" muttered Ron.
After turning down offers of make up, clothing, books, and many other things, Ron was frustrated. He needed a gift, and it was Christmas Eve. He had been trying to find the perfect gift all week. Harry must have thought he had gone insane.
Sighing, he realized he had found yet another shop he hadn't been in yet. He expected disappointment, but nevertheless he entered through the door, the bell chiming enthusiastically, causing a shop keeper to jump, and become ecstatic.
She was old, that was obvious. Wrinkles embedded in her skin everywhere, skin sagging from her boney feeble self. Glasses were on the perch of her nose, and she wore a dress that might have looked good on her, a few years ago.
On her shoulder perched a parrot, a lively one at that. It chirped annoyingly about every five seconds, drowning every other word she spoke out.
"Oh, dearie, interested in buying a pet, eh?"
"Um …" Ron managed. Did Hermione want a pet, she already had Crookshanks.
"We have all sorts of critters," boasted the old woman, gesturing to various cages as she talked, "birds … cats … iguanas … gerbils … dogs …"
"I don't know what she would like," admitted Ron, grinning sheepishly.
"Ooh, she, eh?" said the woman, a smile exploding on her features, "girls often like puppies!"
"Well … I dunno if she wants a pet, she has a cat already…" said Ron.
"A cat?" she managed, frowning, "dogs and cats don't get along too well."
Ron said nothing. Great, those dogs sounded like a great gift, puppies, Ron was certain Hermione would fall in love with one of those.
"Well, I could get you a friendly puppy, one that could possibly get along with cats…?" suggested the shop keeper. Ron nodded hastily. She beamed.
"Great!" she exclaimed, and she led Ron to a section filled with puppies.
All the dogs were festive, scarves tied around their necks to give them a 'festive' look. Some had mistletoe around their collars, some wore bells. They all seemed to be more ready for Christmas than Ron was.
"How about this one?" she suggested, as she quieted her parrot and pointed towards a cage.
The puppy was asleep, curled up in its bed. Snowy white fur was well groomed, and kept neat. It was curled up in a ball, its eyes fluttered shut. Around its neck was a collar, mistletoe hanging from it. It was adorable.
Ron was hesitant, however. Ron didn't want to give her a dog that slept all day. Yes, it would be cute, Hermione would like it, but it would be easy to forget the puppy, and Ron didn't want to be forgotten.
"No… I want another one," said Ron, bluntly.
She shrugged and led him to another cage. Ron looked at the cage, studying the dog.
The dog was black and white, a black spot covering one of its eyes like a patch. It looked quite sad. Its eyes looked like they were molded into eternal sadness. It had its head cocked to the side, and it blinked repetitively, as if it wanted something. Its tail hung low, making it look quite depressed.
Around the dog's neck was a wreath, a small wreath. Though, it was adorable, and anyone could fall in love with those two large eyes, Ron didn't want a gift that would make Hermione sad. He wanted a puppy that would make Hermione happy.
"No … not this one either…" sighed Ron.
Nothing seemed to make the shop keeper she simply led him to another cage. She pointed to it enthusiastically. On her hand was a large ring, possibly a paw print on it. Pet-obsessed …
"How about this one!" she exclaimed, and then she looked hesitant, herself. Ron tore his eyes away from her and looked at the dog. He shuddered.
It was cute, alright. Golden fur covered it. Its eyes were large, but looked … menacing. Its tail was high, but not in a friendly way, in a … mean way. A low growl emitted its throat.
"No!" blurted Ron, "that one's evil."
"I agree," managed the shop keeper. She seemed to have run out of ideas. A puppy caught Ron's eye.
"That one!" exclaimed Ron, dashing over to a cage. A smile came across the shop keeper's wrinkled features.
"It's adorable," breathed the shop keeper, "but quite hyper, don't you think?"
"It's perfect," said Ron dreamily.
The puppy was on its hind-legs, begging at the side of the cage. It barked, and then wagged its tail playfully. Brown fur was fluffed out from the cute puppy, its pink tongue hanging out of its mouth happily.
A teal scarf wrapped around its neck, possibly knitted by hand. A tail also fluffed from the adorable fluffy ball of fur, and its eyes were happy, big and alert. It was hyper, and cute. It was perfect.
Hermione could never forget it, it couldn't be used up, it could only die … but that was such a sad thought, such an adorable thing dying. No, he would charm it somehow. This adorable thing just had to live forever.
"I want it," smiled Ron.
"Fifty galleons," said the shop keeper, taking Ron to the desk.
Ron didn't even hesitate he simply took out all put ten of his galleons (fifty galleons) and gave it to her. She quickly counted it and beamed.
She opened the cage. "It's all hers," she smiled.
Ron couldn't wipe the smile off his face, and mouthing a 'thank you,' he grabbed the cute puppy and stroked its head. Cuddling the animal for a moment, he took it outside into the cold winter air.
"It's going to be hard to give you away…" he said, as the puppy licked him once, lovingly. "Stop that!" he said, laughing.
…
Ron crept into his house. Glancing around, he saw no one. He dashed up the stairs as quickly as he could, ignored his mom's protests about the puppy and slammed his door.
Locking the door, he panted heavily. He smiled at the bundle in his arms after he caught his breath. Then he starting having doubts, what if Hermione didn't like her? She was so cute.
Worries such as these ran through Ron's mind like wildfire. What if …? What if…? It was just too much for the red-head to bear. Collapsing on his bed, he pulled the sheets up to his chin, after setting his alarm clock for early in the morning.
"I have to get to Hermione's house before she wakes up…" he murmured, "I want to be there with the puppy…"
He fluttered his eyes open and patted the side of his bed with his palm. "Up." Ron commanded.
The puppy obeyed, and jumped on the bed, after a few tries. She wagged her tail happily. Her scarf was a bit loosened around her neck, Ron mentally reminded himself to tie it up tighter in the morning.
"Smart puppy…" cooed Ron, and scratched the puppy behind her ears. The puppy yawned and turned in a few dizzied circles and collapsed on the bed in a curled up ball, landing in puppy sleep.
Ron snorted. "So cute…" he said. Dogs did this to you, made you use words like, 'cute' and 'adorable.' Dogs were magical it would be perfect for Hermione…
Ron drifted off into slumber, as he thought of the puppy, and what Hermione would think of her.
…
6:00
Ron awoke to the sound of his alarm clock. He yawned. Stretching, he managed to tumble out of bed. He dressed as quickly as he could, clad in a Weasley sweater and some blue jeans. Throwing on his shoes, he tied them messily and he looked frantically around for the puppy.
Finding the puppy he smiled. He scooped the bundle into his hands. He darted downstairs. No one was awake. Ron breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed a handful of floo powder.
"The Granger's!" he exclaimed. Then, he and the puppy were gone in a flash of flames.
…
"Ron?!" exclaimed Hermione.
Ron stood, brushing himself off, soot covering him, and … the puppy. He quickly grabbed the creature and whispered, "shh…" hoping the dog wouldn't bark.
Hiding the puppy behind his back he sighed, and spoke, hoping Hermione didn't already know what she was getting. It didn't appear that she knew.
"Hermione," he began, praying the puppy wouldn't make any noise he opened his mouth and closed it several times. He couldn't seem to form words.
"Yes…?" asked Hermione questioningly.
Ron simply held the puppy forward in his arms.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he said, smiling.
What he saw, broke his heart, completely shattered it. A frown. Hermione, frowned. He bit his lip, in sadness. The puppy barked, and squirmed in Ron's arms, wanting to get to Hermione.
"Ron!" lashed out Hermione angrily, "I have a cat, your dog will kill my cat you git!"
"Well…" Ron said, trying to not look sad, "I got one that was friendly, the pet store –person said, she said that it won't kill cats and…"
"It doesn't matter!" exclaimed Hermione breathlessly, "Dogs. Kill. Cats. Period."
"Hermione," begged Ron, but he was cut off.
"You fool, you're absolutely – so infuriating sometimes!"
"I was just trying to get you a gift!" yelled Ron. Hermione's parents must have been elsewhere, which was indeed a lucky thing for them.
The puppy leapt from Ron's arms, but neither Hermione nor Ron seemed to notice. It growled at the cat. The cat, in return, hissed.
"Well you should have gotten me a book or something!" shouted Hermione.
"I wanted you get you something special!" exclaimed Ron sadly.
"Well – you should have gotten me something … that a girl would want!"
"I wanted it to last!" said Ron pleadingly, "I wanted it to last…" he repeated, in a whisper.
"You wanted it to last?" whispered Hermione fiercely.
"Yes," said Ron, "I thought a puppy was a perfect gift…"
"Why?" growled Hermione.
The cat and the dog were now fighting madly, but hadn't attacked each other yet, their growls and hisses just getting louder, and louder in volume.
"Because…" began Ron, "I wanted it to be something special, something you would like … something that … that would last, something you'd never gotten, I wanted you to be able to have it for a long time, and to love it … and whenever you looked at it…" he cut himself off.
"What?" whispered Hermione gently.
Crookshanks and the puppy seemed to have stopped fighting, and were eying each other sadly.
"I wanted you … you to think of me… when you looked at it," finished Ron. He met Hermione's gaze, his looking sad and defeated, Hermione's a mirror of the expression.
Hermione seemed to be at a loss for words. She looked at Ron lovingly.
The puppy, then walked up, and stood near them. Standing on it's hind legs it twirled in a circle and then remained in it's beginning position, barking and wagging her tail.
"The puppy dances for you, Hermione," smiled Ron.
"Oh Ron!" sobbed Hermione, throwing her arms around his neck. "This is the best gift ever! I'm so sorry! I love it!"
Ron was smiling now, a forgiving, thankful, happy smile.
The puppy walked over to Crookshanks and sat down beside him. Crookshanks looked at the puppy questioningly. The puppy let out a quiet bark.
"I love you," she whispered, before landing her lips on his.
Ron returned the kiss, and they stood, in the middle of the living room, no presents opened, at six thiry-seven in the morning. No matter how unromantic, how strange the situation and circumstances were, Ron and Hermione wouldn't change a thing for the world.
The puppy barked, and she walked over and looked at Crookshanks, before licking him.
Fin.