Chapter 7
Ronald Weasly was sitting in his office finishing the most boring part of his work – report's. What the subject had had for lunch, what was the subject wearing (at the time he was filling out the chart, saying what colour the subjects socks had been. Answer: Do not know. Did Not check but will make sure to see next time.), if the subject was single, married or a widow, if the subject had a job, etc. The list was endless and he had just filled out the first ten pages. Well, at least it seemed endless enough for him.
It seemed as if time was rushing past him at the speed of light. I had just been lunch, had it not? No, that was three reports ago and now he had to go through only (Ron was counting) sixteen more. This was so like him – push things onto the last minute. He had always done that at Hogwarts and burnt his fingers with the bad habit one too many times, but still had not learned from his mistakes. He remembered him and Harry looking for answers from their Potions books the night before the exams although they had gotten the possible questions a week ago. Naturally, Snape had not used the questions he had given them. Hermione had always done hers during the lunch in the library or in the common room, working late into the night.
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Hermione. Ron had not seen her since they left Hogwarts but remembered the ball as if it had been yesterday. He and Hermione and Harry entering. The feast. (At the thought of food, his stomach made some weird noises.) The battle of words between Hermione and Lisa. Well it was somewhat one-sided he had to admit. Lisa leaving. He and Hermione dancing. Ron thought that whatever happened to him, he would always be grateful to Harry for making them dance. He thought back to what it had felt like, holding Hermione in his arms, dancing. Too bad, it was the last song, he was thinking to himself now. I should have gotten my act together and asked her while I had the chance. I have a cramp in my left foot. Ron laughed as he thought back on the stupid excuse of Harry's. He was pretty sure that Dean had asked her to go with him, while they were coming up the stairs. What was Hermione thinking? That a person would just ask her to meet him in the Trophy Room in the middle of the night (well ten o'clock is not that early, Ron justified his thoughts.) for nothing. 'Hey Herm! I wanted a quiet place to ask you what you were planning to do with your life.'
Nevertheless, Hermione did not go with Dean, now did she? Oh no! She went with Harry instead. That meant that she did not like Dean to begin with. She liked Harry! Ron felt fury rising in him. His best friend and his girlf… Well, Hermione had not exactly been his girlfriend so he could not blame her nor Harry for going to the ball together. However, he did. He knew that it was wrong to think like that, but he merely couldn't help it. Harry knew that he liked her and what did he do? Stab him in the back.
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At that moment, a snowy white owl knocked on the window. Ron's eyes widened.
"Hedwig? That really you, my friend?"
He stood up and let the owl in that instantly sat on his shoulder and extended its foot with a letter towards him. Ron hesitated, then untied the letter and let Hedwig fly away to rest with another owl sitting in the corner of the large fancy office.
Dear Ron,
I know that I have been a real $$hole, not writing but I need your help.
Asshole? That is a bit mild don't you think so? Need my help? What? Your therapist has a week off?
Ron felt weird, but he let his thoughts of sarcasm flow freely through his mind. He found that he was in titled to that at least.
It seems like I have an adoring fan.
Well you probably have many fans. You are the best seeker in England. The fans kind of come with being famous. Don't get scared or anything.
Not like all of those witches saying they think I am the most attractive male alive but the kind that says they love you and then want to kill you, if you know what I mean.
No I don't know what you mean. I do not have a PhD in phsycology. Most attractive male alive? Where did I go?
I am not too worried, but as for Justin and Colin, well they are terrified and I thought that maybe they were right and I do need some professional help.
Colin and Justin? Colin and Justin? Colin and Justin as in Colin Creevey and Justin Finch-Fletchley? Boy, you should be terrified if you spend time with geeks like them.
Owl me back immediately.
Immediately? In my last letter I asked you to writeimmediately and I got a reply in…hmmm…not more or less than three years. Three GODDAMN years!
With best wishes,
Harry
With best wishes? Good that he didn't write: From the King of Quiddich - The Great Harry Potter!
Ron wasn't quite sure of what he should do. His mind was telling him to write back a letter saying some things that polite people don't even like to think about and his heart was telling him to go and help the best friend he ever had. Ron wasn't stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. He had lost Hermione, listening to what his mind was telling him and excepted it after a while but he wasn't going to leave Harry into the hands of a lunatic.
Harry
Was the little "incident" at the last Quiddich match his handywork? You better not even dream about taking this loonatic on alone! I'll see you in two days!
Ron
He checked the note for spelling mistakes that sometimes seemed to hop into his notes without him knowing it. The letter was short and Ron knew it, but he just couldn't squeeze more out of himself after Harry had forgotten him for so many years. He didn't know what to say to Harry as he had never been good at putting his feelings into words. Ron tied the letter to Hedwigs foot and sent her away, watching silently how the old bird flew away swiftly.
He was starteled by a voice from the door: "Ron? I'll be leaving now."
"Mathilda…yes of course. Bye….Wait…Did you send the letter I wrote to the Minister?"
"Well why yes. After I had completely re-done it."
"Re-done it? What was wrong with it?"
"Weeeeeelll….there were some weird words…Like the budge…Budget would be more accurate, don't you think so?"
Ron gave a weak grin and then said: "Alright. Go home.Give my best to Tom and the kids."
And with a pop, Mathilda was gone. Ron stared out of the window thinking about his friendship with Harry and their years at Hogwarts. Before he could stop it, Hermione surfaced in his mind yet again with her puffy brown hair, chocolate-brown eyes and graceful features. He drove her away into the far end of his mind and sat down, pulling his hand through his hair in angst. Sometime he still dreamed of how things could have been if he hadn't been such a stupid, idiotic, misunderstanding… Ron. This was just so like him. However, he had never found out weather or not Hermione loved him. He had suspected though since the fourth year. The Triwizard Tournament. Krum. The great challenges that Harry had to take on. Fleur.
Yes Fleur had been a real beauty; he had to admit, though he had never felt anything towards her. Ron, like any guy, liked to take a look at pretty girls every once in a while, but he had to admit – Fleur had been nothing comparing to Hermione. She was more than a pretty face. Besides, he would have never changed that bickering between them for anything else. He loved the way her eyes grew even a darker brown, the way her normally creamy coloured cheeks revealed a slight shade of pink, and her puffy hair bounced as she turned her head to Ron and almost hit his eye out with her finger pointing right at his face.
Report's Ronald Weasly! Concentrate! He was mentally beating himself up for letting Hermione visit his thoughts. Why should he not let her invade his mind? He was single and it was perfectly normal to dream about beautiful women. Well that particular woman was probably married to Victor Krum by now. He didn't know for sure because Krum had abandoned Quiddich a year after their graduation and there nothing was heard of him ever since. Not in the newspapers anyway. Ron assumed that the girl of his dreams and Vicky would be married by now because the last headline Krum made before leaving professional Quiddich was the article about Vicky and'Mione getting engaged.
