The Allure of Ronald Weasley: Chapter 3
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sad, I know.
A/N: Thanks for everyone who has reviewed! Sorry that it took a while, but this chapter is a bit longer because I was on a roll… anyway, remember to review this one! Criticism and flames allowed! The button won't click itself… ;)
Chapter 3: The Rescue
Ron and Hermione exchanged significant looks as they laid in silence, waiting for a sound.
To their relief, they could hear the familiar voices of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entering the house. One of them must have accidentally knocked over a rubbish bin. Hermione released her breath and gave a sigh of relief, as Ron laughed under his breath at how frightened he had been.
They both took it as their cues to go inside, but secretly, Hermione wished that their time alone could've lasted longer.
As they entered the house, Arthur Weasley turned suddenly and urgently handed Hermione a flashlight.
"I need you to leave, now."
Tick… tick… tick… they can't be getting louder, can they?
Harry looked at his bedside clock. Two… something. He sighed, slightly frustrated by his poor eyesight. He grabbed for his glasses and held them up to the bridge of his nose. 2:21 am. How had it only been 3 minutes since he last checked? He sighed again and limply tossed his glasses to the table beside an empty glass. He longed to refill his cup with water; his throat was dry and hot. Harry cursed quietly under his breath, remembering the numerous padlocks that Dursleys had clamped on his bedroom door hours before.
Harry squinted at the clock again. 2:22. He wiped his sweating brow and looked down at his chest. Nights like these were much too hot for wearing shirts, he reasoned, as he painfully propped himself up by the elbows and proceeded to lift his extra large shirt over his sweating face.
He, like Ron, had the look of someone who had grown a lot in a short amount of time. He had already come of age, and his body decided that now was the time to catch up. He had grown broader shoulders and his chest had become more defined.
Harry hadn't really noticed his change in physique, but the neighborhood girls had. Harry had always wondered why the girls giggled as he walked by. He took it for granted that they were just making fun of him for going to St. Brutis'.
Harry lay back down and attempted to close his eyes and take his mind somewhere else. How much longer would he have to withstand this torture? Almost two months and no word from Hermione or Ron? The Weasleys were supposed to send him an owl weeks ago! Frustrated, Harry stretched his arms out harshly and then placed his hands on his chest. Although he had feelings of restlessness and anger towards his friends, it was all stemmed from his loneliness. He missed them so much. He missed the past summers, consisting of late nights spent with Ron at the Burrow, letting out his worries and thoughts.
It's been tough lately, he thought, not having anyone around but Dudley. And lord knows he can't lend a sympathetic ear. Harry chuckled to himself, thinking of the absurdity of Dudley being kind at all, and drifted off into a lucid sleep, consisting of images of Dudley in a pink gown, hovering over small children and granting them wishes.
It had seemed as though Harry had just closed his eyes when he felt a poke in his side. Half asleep, Harry merely rolled over and mumbled. Poke. Poke.
Damn wand, he thought. Because of his lack of a belt, he had to keep his wand tucked into his waste band. He didn't dare go to sleep without it in arm's reach, especially with the way things stood in the Wizarding World. Harry slowly reached for his wand, when he realized it wasn't in its usual place. Still half asleep, Harry figured it had just fallen down his shorts. As he reached his hand sleepily down his boxers, he felt around for his fallen wand. "Harry! PLEASE!"
Harry bolted up, wide awake, startled by the foreign voice in his room. His heart pounded, increasing speed by his fright of the voice and darkness. Harry snatched up his glasses and carelessly threw them on as he anxiously peered into the dark. It wasn't much help.
"Now, was it really necessary to fondle yourself in front of me?" Harry grinned as he recognized the familiar sarcastic tone.
"Hermione!" he whispered in sudden joy. "Where are you?" A bright light suddenly clicked on near the foot of his bed, obviously a flashlight. Harry squinted as his eyes began to slowly adjust to the new lighting. Hermione quickly looked away, blushing, realizing that Harry didn't have a shirt on.
Despite her embarrassment, she quickly looked back at him and whispered, "Harry, oh, am I ever so glad to see you! Those horrible Dursleys! They've been keeping all of your mail! At least, that's what we think… we've sent you about 20 owls, honest!" Harry wasn't really listening to every word Hermione was rambling about. In fact, he had no idea what she just said in her hurried speech, for he was just so relieved that his friend was here to save him from Privet Drive. "I mean, the first one we sent was about…"
Harry interrupted her. "Enough of this small talk, we'll have plenty of time for that later. What's your plan of escape?"
Hermione grinned. "Well, this flashlight I'm holding will serve as a portkey at exactly 3am. As long as you're touching your trunk, Hedwig, and whatever else you need, they'll come with us too. You know, Harry, you really ought to get some proper clothes on, us transporting back to the Burrow and all…" Hermione continued to speak in hushed tones, but Harry didn't catch the rest of what she was saying.
The Burrow… he thought happily. The sound of Hermione's voice uttering these words reverberated throughout his being. A warm feeling overcame him as he closed his eyes and pictured himself arriving at the Burrow, Ron standing at the door, arms wide open, waiting for him. He would give Ron a big hug; he would rustle his red, flaming hair. What he had been dreaming about for months would finally come true. Harry got so caught up in his fantasy, he could smell the Burrow, feel the warmth of Ron's body… Ron leaned into Harry's ear and began to whisper…
"HARRY? Are you listening to me at all?"
Hermione jolted him back to reality. "Oh, Harry, I said that we only have 8 minutes left! The Weasleys said it was imperative that we get you out of here as soon as possible… get your belongings together so we can make sure we are touching everything as we depart."
Harry reluctantly agreed, upset that his thoughts were interrupted. He quietly began to pull his floorboards up to retrieve his quill and parchment. He was about to ask Hermione if she had seen his wand, when he heard footsteps outside his door. "Shit!" he gasped. Panicking, he motioned for Hermione to turn out the light. She quickly did so, as Harry whispered "in the closet!" Hermione urgently crept into his closet and Harry jumped silently into his bed.
Click. Click. Someone was unlocking the padlocks to Harry's door. Harry quickly glanced at the clock. 2:54. Realizing he still had his glasses on, he whipped them off and stuffed them under his pillow.
Click. Creeeaaak. Harry's door slowly opened, and he suddenly closed his eyes, pretending to be in a deep sleep. Seconds, maybe minutes seemed to pass, until he heard Uncle Vernon's familiar grunt as he slammed the door shut, taking special care not to be quiet in order to otherwise disturb a peacefully dreaming Harry.
Harry heard Hermione let out a sigh of relief as she quietly opened the door and crept out of the closet. "Gee, that was a close –"
"Hermione! We have less than a minute! Grab my hand so I can transport with you. God… turn on that damned light, I can't see a thing." Hermione obeyed sourly, having been interrupted and told orders, and cast a stream of light across the room, illuminating Harry's face as shadows danced upon the floor.
At that moment, Harry and Hermione felt the familiar sensation of a hook grabbing behind their stomachs, as they were suddenly transported to the Burrow. They arrived in the living room, with Ron waking suddenly from the couch.
Ron rubbed his eyes and came to his senses. "Sorry that Mum and Dad couldn't be here Harry, but they had Order business, you know…"
But Harry didn't care. He was too excited for words to see Ron, and as he stood up, Harry lunged at him and tackled him to the floor in a big hug. Ron laughed playfully as he turned and pinned Harry on the floor. Harry looked up and saw the familiar face of his best friend staring back down at him, as a warm feeling filled Harry's chest.
Ron grinned as he got up and helped Harry up by giving him his hand. Once Harry had grabbed for Ron's hand, he felt something. Something he had never felt before. His face became flushed and his stomach seemed to rise a little higher. It was similar to the feeling he got when he finally got a date with Cho. It gave him hope.
Maybe it's just because I need some sleep, he reasoned. Once he got up, though, all he knew was that he was sad he couldn't have held on to Ron's hand any longer.
It's just because I've missed him so much. It's been torture at the Dursley's, thought Harry.
"You can have Fred and George's room, they're off living at their joke shop. Can you believe it?" Ron exclaimed.
Harry shook his head as the trio walked up the stairs with Harry's trunk.
As they walked up the stairs, Hermione slowed down to watch Ron and Harry, and a little green monster was rising up inside of her. She knew she would have to do something about it, and soon.