"Hermione," Ron said as he entered her dorm, "are you coming to dinner or."
but the sentence died on his lips. Hermione's face was a oddly pale color,
and her eyes, normally warm and cheery, were now wide, terrified, and
burning with anger.
"Hermione? What.what's 'amatter?" he asked, voice full of worry. Ron knew that her dad's death, her mother's pregnancy, and the fact that she and her mother would be living with Ron and his family come the summer were all very sudden and traumatic. Not only would Hermione not have a dad, or her old home, she would have the added pressure of a new baby in the family and living at the burrow. Though, Ron couldn't see what was so horrible about living with him and his family at the burrow. The twins had moved out, so there would be separate rooms for both Hermione and her mother, and there wouldn't be nearly as much noise. Plus, they could hang out together, look for jobs, practice their apparating, and, if he could talk her into it, play a little Quidditch.
But Ron reminded himself suddenly that those items of conflict and discussion weren't pressing matters at the moment. The one at hand was why Hermione looked like someone had just harassed her.
During the time Ron had been thinking, Hermione had been trying to form words to tell Ron what she had just read. Instead, all she could muster was, "WHY DOES EVERYTHING BAD ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME!!!"
Ron, who hadn't expected this kind of explosion jumped back a little, eyes wide and confused. "Wha.what?" he stammered nervously.
"I said," said Hermione through gritted teeth, as though she was trying to suppress a bit of rage, "Why. Does. EVERYTHING. Bad. Happen. To. ME!" Upon saying this, she stood up, picked the letter off her the floor where it had fallen, and began pacing around the room while she ranted and raved.
"FIRST!" she began. "FIRST my Dad dies. The one man who cared about ME. ME, of all people."
At these words Ron wanted to say that he cared about her too, that he wanted to take care of her, that he liked, maybe even loved her. But somehow, he restrained himself.
Hermione continued, "AND THEN, I fined out that my MOTHER is PREGNANT! BLOODY FRICKEN PREGNANT! How is she supposed to take care of a baby all on her own? Humm? She can't. Hell she could barely take care of me. How does she think she'll be able to handle this all on her own?"
"Well..well," said Ron timidly, not wanting Hermione's wrath to be directed at him, and at the same time wondering what she meant about her mother not being able to take care of her. "My, my Mum," said Ron, anxiety etched across his face as Hermione whirled on him, "she's had loads.loads of practice with kids. I mean, she had to have. There are seven of us. I think she should be able to help your mum out good enough."
Hermione paused for a second, in which she seemed to be mulling over his words, until finally she said, "You're right. Your mum would be able to help her. BUT that's just the point Ron. My mother," she gave an involuntary roll of the eyes, "can't do ANYTHING on her own. I mean it." She added. Seeing Ron's look of disbelief. "She couldn't cook without burning the food. She couldn't clean without setting something on fire. And.and she didn't know how to take care of me." Hermione said the last sentence as though it brought up some painful memories, so Ron tried to push her past it by asking what had gotten her so upset in the first place. It turns out, asking was a big mistake.
She once again, burst into her tyrant of yelling.
"I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU!" she bellowed. "MY DAD DIED! MY MUM IS PREGNANT! I DON'T HAVE A HOME! AND TURNS OUT MY DAD, THE ONLY ONE I COULD EVER COUNT ON, THE ONLY ONE I COULD DEPEND ON, THE ONLY ONE I COULD LOOK UP TO, IS A.A.a." But Hermione couldn't finish the sentence. She collapsed onto her bed and began to sob.
Ron, who was completely thunderstruck and very confused as to what her dad supposedly did, gaped at her from is original point of entrance into her room. Slowly, he was able to get his legs to function and was able to walk over to her bed. From there, he put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it consolingly while searching for the right thing to say. But none came to him. So he sat there, letting her sob into her pillow.
"Hermione? What.what's 'amatter?" he asked, voice full of worry. Ron knew that her dad's death, her mother's pregnancy, and the fact that she and her mother would be living with Ron and his family come the summer were all very sudden and traumatic. Not only would Hermione not have a dad, or her old home, she would have the added pressure of a new baby in the family and living at the burrow. Though, Ron couldn't see what was so horrible about living with him and his family at the burrow. The twins had moved out, so there would be separate rooms for both Hermione and her mother, and there wouldn't be nearly as much noise. Plus, they could hang out together, look for jobs, practice their apparating, and, if he could talk her into it, play a little Quidditch.
But Ron reminded himself suddenly that those items of conflict and discussion weren't pressing matters at the moment. The one at hand was why Hermione looked like someone had just harassed her.
During the time Ron had been thinking, Hermione had been trying to form words to tell Ron what she had just read. Instead, all she could muster was, "WHY DOES EVERYTHING BAD ALWAYS HAPPEN TO ME!!!"
Ron, who hadn't expected this kind of explosion jumped back a little, eyes wide and confused. "Wha.what?" he stammered nervously.
"I said," said Hermione through gritted teeth, as though she was trying to suppress a bit of rage, "Why. Does. EVERYTHING. Bad. Happen. To. ME!" Upon saying this, she stood up, picked the letter off her the floor where it had fallen, and began pacing around the room while she ranted and raved.
"FIRST!" she began. "FIRST my Dad dies. The one man who cared about ME. ME, of all people."
At these words Ron wanted to say that he cared about her too, that he wanted to take care of her, that he liked, maybe even loved her. But somehow, he restrained himself.
Hermione continued, "AND THEN, I fined out that my MOTHER is PREGNANT! BLOODY FRICKEN PREGNANT! How is she supposed to take care of a baby all on her own? Humm? She can't. Hell she could barely take care of me. How does she think she'll be able to handle this all on her own?"
"Well..well," said Ron timidly, not wanting Hermione's wrath to be directed at him, and at the same time wondering what she meant about her mother not being able to take care of her. "My, my Mum," said Ron, anxiety etched across his face as Hermione whirled on him, "she's had loads.loads of practice with kids. I mean, she had to have. There are seven of us. I think she should be able to help your mum out good enough."
Hermione paused for a second, in which she seemed to be mulling over his words, until finally she said, "You're right. Your mum would be able to help her. BUT that's just the point Ron. My mother," she gave an involuntary roll of the eyes, "can't do ANYTHING on her own. I mean it." She added. Seeing Ron's look of disbelief. "She couldn't cook without burning the food. She couldn't clean without setting something on fire. And.and she didn't know how to take care of me." Hermione said the last sentence as though it brought up some painful memories, so Ron tried to push her past it by asking what had gotten her so upset in the first place. It turns out, asking was a big mistake.
She once again, burst into her tyrant of yelling.
"I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU!" she bellowed. "MY DAD DIED! MY MUM IS PREGNANT! I DON'T HAVE A HOME! AND TURNS OUT MY DAD, THE ONLY ONE I COULD EVER COUNT ON, THE ONLY ONE I COULD DEPEND ON, THE ONLY ONE I COULD LOOK UP TO, IS A.A.a." But Hermione couldn't finish the sentence. She collapsed onto her bed and began to sob.
Ron, who was completely thunderstruck and very confused as to what her dad supposedly did, gaped at her from is original point of entrance into her room. Slowly, he was able to get his legs to function and was able to walk over to her bed. From there, he put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it consolingly while searching for the right thing to say. But none came to him. So he sat there, letting her sob into her pillow.