(Disclaimer: All characters herein belong to J.K. Rowling and to various publishing companies. No infringement of copyright is intended.)
A/N: I know that no promises I make about updating will ever be believed again, so I won't make any. I just found this in my email archives and I thought I'd post it. There's a chunk of another chapter which I'd like to finish, but who knows if/when that will happen. Sorry.
Great celebration followed Ron's victory over Ravenclaw. The Gryffindor common room was alive with wellwishers and butterbeer, and most of the students from every year passed through to congratulate Ron. Ron was understandably swollen with pride, at least to begin with, but after a while he seemed to tire of the crowd and the situation. Only Hermione saw him slip out the door and up the stairs towards the dormitories, and she followed.
To Hermione's surprise, Ron had not disappeared up to the dormitories, but was sitting on the cold stone steps, looking a little weary. Hermione sat beside him.
"Thanks for coming to see the game" Ron began. "I know you're worried about your potions homework. It was really decent of you to come."
"Of course, I had to come!" exclaimed Hermione. "You'd never think of doing homework while Harry was playing Quiddich, would you? There's no way I would have missed that game!"
"Well, I don't need to tell you that I wouldn't miss Quiddich for homework, but what you might do is another question!" Ron quipped, his eyes twinkling, but Hermione responded seriously:
"I've been thinking about what you said last night, Ron, and I want you to know that I don't think you're a bad person because you don't study as much as I do. Heaven knows, I wish I were better at keeping things in balance, but I just can't help it. When I first came here, I was so scared that I'd look like an imbecile because I'd never even seen magic before, let alone done any. I thought if I worked really hard, I might be able to make a go of it. But now, everyone expects me to get top marks, and I feel like I'll be a failure if I don't. So Ron, don't let me make you feel bad about yourself. You're great!"
Hermione finally stopped for breath, and looked over at Ron. Ron sighed.
"You know, Mione, we're not so different. Both of us are trying to live up to a reputation. Except mine's hereditary. I won't ever be good enough to follow my brothers, I'll always be Weasley number six, ordinary, average. I got an owl from Dad this morning, and he was talking about how much unemployment there is these days and how I have to study hard to get ahead, and I just don't think I'll ever amount to anything. Harry's got quiddich, you've got the smartest brain this side of orion, but what have I got? I'm just a nobody." Ron sighed again, looking down at his feet.
"Well, I'm not much of a judge," responded Hermione, "but I'd say you were pretty damn good at wizard's chess!" She smiled, but she felt wounded at the very thought of Ron having such a low opinion of himself. She began again:
"Ron, would you be my friend if I was stupid? If I was as crap at schoolwork as Neville Longbottom?"
Ron snorted at the idea of Hermione blowing things up and mis-mixing her potions. But Neville was still a decent person.
"Yes, of course I would" he responded.
Hermione continued "...and what if I was as ugly as Pansy Parkinson? Would you still be my friend then?"
Ron reflected on this. It was hard to separate Pansy's hideous face from her poisonous personality; she was, after all, a Slytherin through and through. But Ron thought of the teddy bear he had had since he was tiny, whose eyes had fallen out and whose mouth had ripped into a great grimacing gash. Everyone thought his teddy was ghastly, but it was still soft and warm, and Ron still kept in under his bed at the Burrow.
"Yes, but you couldn't be quite that ugly without being horrible, too." Ron replied somewhat petulantly.
"That's not the point." Responded Hermione, coming to her final question. "Would you still be my friend if I had no arms and no legs?"
Ron looked at Hermione in bewilderment. Where was this heading?
"I...think so?" responded Ron.
"Well then" concluded Hermione, "it's time to feel better. Because you're a lot smarter than Neville, you're not nearly as ugly as Pansy (did Ron detect a glimmer of a smile as she said this?), you've got both your arms and your legs, and you've got Harry and me, and we like you just the way you are, so CHEER UP!" Hermione said the last words like a coach preparing a team for a game of quiddich.
Ron grinned. Although, he reflected, Hermione was not going to give him a job, he couldn't help but be cheered by the pep talk.