He woke up, screaming. The dream. . . It had seemed so real. . . . In the dream, he had seen Antonia falling from a cliff, very slowly. Not a minute later, yours truly ran in, a dagger in each hand.
"No, no, Tone, not that." Ron put a hand on his heart.
"Don't you scare me like that!" She muttered, placing both daggers on his dresser. "What was all the screaming about?"
"Is there any cliffs nearby?"
"Yes. About half a mile from here. Why do you ask?"
"No reason." Ron didn't want to tell her about the dream. He thought she'd think him insane like Luna Lovegood.
"Would you like anything? You never did get your soup, you fell asleep before I was done cooking it." She sat down on his bed.
"Why. . . Why are you like this?"
"Well, you're sick. You shouldn't have to do things when you're sick."
"Alrighty, then. I think I'll just try to sleep some more."
"Sleep sweet." She kissed his head, and left.
Ron, completely non-pulsed, by both the dream and the kiss, shook his head. His head then went back to his pillow, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
What was happening to him? How could he have feelings like that for Antonia! She was rude, obnoxious, and angry. No, she wasn't. That was him! He was rude, and obnoxious, and angry. Antonia was. . . a little sharp tongued, but you had to be, if you wanted to live in a place like Transylvania. She was beautiful, man, was she beautiful. He had always thought 'beautiful' meant like who had the best legs or prettiest smile, but now he knew. Beautiful meant considerate, sweet, had a good heart, things like that. But how could he tell her. . . that he liked-no, that he loved her?
Antonia sat on the couch, fingering the tip of a dagger. Something was wrong with Ron. Not just him being sick, but he had been acting strangely towards her. Not in a 'oh, you're weird' kind of way, but like a 'I just wanna be near you' way. It freaked her out. She, in no way possible, had feelings like THAT for Ronald Weasley. The question was, did he?
A few hours later, she went to Ron's room. He was reading one of his spell books. When she knocked, he looked up, and smiled.
"Hey."
"Hi." She grabbed a chair. "You feeling any better?" She checked his forehead.
"Sort of."
"Well, you're still warm," She ran her hand down his hair, and squeezed a lock. "I just noticed, you have really thick hair. No wonder you're a waterworks when we practice."
Ron laughed. He then noticed what she had brought in. "What's that?"
"Oh! You're dinner." She gave him the tray, and placed it in his lap. "My famous pot roast."
"I love pot roast. Mum makes some of the best. You got any gravy?"
"What would a pot roast be without gravy?" She replied, and placed a saucer of the brown liquid on his tray.
Ron took the fork and knife, cut a piece, placed it in the gravy, and ate. His head rolled back, sighing. "Reminds me of home."
"Is that a good thing?"
"Yes, very."
She smiled. "I'm glad." She started to get up, when Ron held her back.
"Stay, please. It gets pretty lonely in here. . . ."
Antonia sat once more. "What's your family like?"
"Well, there's mum and dad. They're great. Mum is a stay at home mum, and dad works in our ministry, in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. My eldest brother, Bill, is a curse breaker for our bank, Gringotts. He's so cool. I believe he's engaged, to Fluer Delacour, a French half-veela. Charlie, my second eldest brother, is a dragon trainer here. Well, in Romania."
"We should see him! I'd like to meet your family."
"Alright."
"Keep going."
"Then there's Percy, who's scum. Then Fred and George, they're twins. Identical down to the last freckle. Infamous they are, at Hogwarts. Then me. Then Ginny, who's the only Weasley girl for generations. She's very feisty, own thing going on. But I love the girl, no more, no less. And that's the Weasley's. What about the Alden's?"
"Well, I'm an only child. My mama is a chemist, and my papa is an inventer. I don't see them much, though. They're busy, in their own little world. You know?"
"Yea. . . . Surprisingly, I do. Do you have any friends?"
"No. Not a one. I intimidate them, like I told you way back. That I always carry weapons and is on my own guard scares them."
"Oh, that sucks. I think I'd be lost without Harry and Hermione. Harry is well. . . . sometimes a little hard to deal with. He's still in mourning, of Sirius-his godfather, and his parents. He's moody and angry, but I know he just feels vulnerable. Last I heard he's dating Ginny. And Hermione. . . she's great. Always the book worm, you know? I used to fancy her like so much. . but now I'm not. She's dating one of my friends, Seamus Finnigan."
Antonia didn't reply.
"Tone?"
"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking. . . ."
"What about?"
"Your training. Once you get better, we'll have to drill some more to get you back on solid ground."
Ron raised his eyebrows. "That's not what you were thinking about."
"How do you know?"
"Well, for one, you had this dreamy look on your face. . . I don't know. All I know is that my training wasn't what you were thinking about."
Hello again! R/R!