Chapter Two
For a few moments after she left, Ron stared at the doorway through which she had disappeared, his mouth agape. After a while, Harry made an appearance through the same doorway, forcing Ron to gather his wits and smile at his friend.
"That's done, anyway."
"What's done?"
"The letter."
"What letter?"
"The letter to Remus…the one I just left to send, not twenty minutes ago?"
"Oh, yeah—right. How soon before you think he has an answer?"
"Dunno. We'll just have to wait, won't we?" Harry took a large gulp of stout and looked around. "Where'd Hermione go?"
"Uh—upstairs…"
"Bit odd, don't you think?"
"What?"
"Hermione."
"What about her?"
"Well...put it this way—we don't see her all day and then she comes downstairs, grinning like she's taken a little too much Euphoria Elixir…and eats more than I've ever seen her put away before. And considering what happened, you know—yesterday…"
"Yeah?"
"Bit odd, isn't it?"
Ron stood up abruptly. "Mental, that one. Gave up trying to figure her out years ago. Best not to waste your time, Harry."
"But Ron…I'm worried about her. I mean, she—we thought she'd died!"
"Don't remind me, Harry."
"But Ron, don't you think that may have—I don't know freaked her out a bit. I just want to help her deal with it. How often has she helped me sort out my shit?"
"I'll take care of it, mate."
"Ron—don't take this personally, but—you remember what Nearly Headless Nick said about you?"
"Oh, sod off, Potter!"
"No, seriously, mate—don't go pissing her off by saying something stupid."
"I do that twenty times a day and she still likes me for some reason. Anyway…" Ron started to walk away, shoulders hunched. His hands were shaking and he thrust them in the pockets of his trousers. He stopped and spun slowly on his heel, looking back at his friend, who froze halfway through the act of putting an hour-old chip in his mouth.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"She--wants me to shag her."
"What?" The chip fell out of Harry's fingers."
"Hermione--- said she wants us to…" He broke off as his voice cracked.
"She said that?"
"Yeah…just now."
"Well—Shit, Ron!"
"What am I gonna do, Harry?"
"Dunno. I guess you're gonna have to—well, do it…"
"But what if I'm rubbish at it?"
"Dunno, mate—just…Hell, I don't know—be nice to her, I guess."
"Yeah…" Ron shifted on his feet, shrugging his shoulders.
"Maybe it's like Quidditch, Ron. You just have to keep—practicing." Harry grinned, his neck reddening.
"Yeah, that wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?" Ron smiled nervously, set his shoulders back, and looked purposely toward the doorway. He then looked back at Harry. "Bloody hell, mate—I'm going to shag Hermione!" With a couple of long strides he had disappeared from the room, leaving a very uncomfortable 'Chosen One' who suddenly lost his earlier desire for pudding. It was going to be a long night for all three of them.