Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my story so far! I really appreciate it, I love getting feedback on my story! And for all of those who don't review, please do! I like getting opinions on how I can better my writing skills… Thanks again! Artemay
It was the morning of Quidditch tryouts and Harry, Ron, and Hermione had gone to the Great Hall to eat breakfast and retrieve their daily morning mail.
"And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway…"
"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look," said Ron, shaking back his sleeves.
"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either," Hermione finished, ignoring Ron.
"I'm tall," said Ron inconsequentially.
He was beginning to get quite jealous of Hermione's remarks of praise toward Harry. He knew that they probably didn't mean anything, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment towards his best friend. Ron's thoughts swam to the beginning of the term and recalled their first lesson with Slughorn:
"Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she is the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"
"Yes, sir," Harry said.
"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially.
Hermione turned to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, "Did you really tell him that I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!"
He remembered being very annoyed and having a sudden feeling of protectiveness over Hermione. By going back into the past he also recalled that he had wanted to say something impressive, to beat Harry's comment but instead it came out in a very sarcastic and a completely aggravated tone, "Well, what's so impressive about that? You are the best in the year—I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!"
She looked at him and smiled a little then put a finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet.
"Ron? Ron, what are you doing?" he heard a female voice in the distance and was forced to return to reality.
"What?" he said in an almost groggy tone.
From across the table, Harry was grinning from ear to ear and Hermione was looking at him with pure curiosity.
"What's up with the fork, Ron?" Harry laughed.
Ron looked at his hand and saw that he was holding his fork, which was loaded with steaming scrambled egg. "It was like you froze while you were about to take a bite," Harry began, still trying to stifle his smile. "What are you thinking about, mate?"
"Nothing," Ron muttered as his eyes darted to Hermione, who was still looking at him intently.
Harry returned to his breakfast, shaking his head and continued to shovel down his toast. A moment of silence passed through the three friends until Harry said, "Well, Ron, we should be on our way to the Quidditch pitch then."
"Right," Ron's vocabulary had become rather condensed and his face seemed to be tinged green.
As they were about to get to the pitch they passed Lavender and Parvati. Parvati nudged Lavender, which made her look up; she immediately gave him a beautiful, bright smile. Ron did somewhat of a double take and smiled stupidly at her. Harry grabbed his forearm and dragged him away from what would have been a social disaster.
"What was that all about?" Harry asked looking over his shoulder at the two Gryffindor girls.
"I dunno," Ron said distantly. He couldn't help but straighten his posture and feel incredibly confident.
Ron looked at Hermione, who didn't return his gaze. Her mouth was set in a thin line and she looked annoyed. They reached the pitch and Ron said, "Well, we'll see you after the tryout, Hermione."
Hermione completely ignored both Harry and Ron and made her way into the stands in order to find a seat.
"What's she on about?" Ron asked in an irritated tone.
It was Harry's turn to play it stupid, "I dunno." Ron looked at him and knew that he knew what was bothering Hermione but decided not to push it. He had more pressing matters to deal with; he had to become Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
As Harry and Ron approached the large group of applicants for the team, a large seventh year boy advanced toward Harry.
Ron looked Cormac McLaggen up and down. He was huge. Please don't let him be a Keeper… please… please…
Ron eavesdropped on their conversation and his worse fears were confirmed. McLaggen was trying out for Keeper.
I'm dead.
The tryouts began and by the time they were almost over, Harry had chosen Katie Bell, Ginny Weasley, and Demelza Robbins as Chasers, and Jimmy Peakes and Richie Coote as Beaters. The only position Harry had left to choose was a Keeper for the team.
Ron watched with bated breath as the first five applicants only saved an average of two goals a piece. It was McLaggen's turn, and to Ron's dismay he saved four out of five goals.
It doesn't matter that he flew off into the complete opposite direction while saving the last goal, there is no way that I am going to be able to beat that, I'm a terrible Keeper… He remembered the song that the Slytherins had created last year, and he wanted to curl up and die.
Ron was now had a sickly green shade to his face, which clashed terribly with his fiery red hair, and was sweating profusely. He vaguely heard someone say "Good luck!" from the sidelines but paid no attention to it. With shaking hands he gripped his broom, kicked off of the ground, and flew to the Keeper's posts.
As he pulled his broom around to face the three Chasers who would be trying to save goals, his vision became blurred and he had to shake his head to become focused once again. His eyes zipped to the stands and he saw Hermione smiling at him. Ron suddenly became confident and as Harry blew the whistle, he saved all five goals with complete accuracy and skill.
Ron reached the ground and was encompassed by the team and eventually Harry after he finished dealing with the irate McLaggen.
"You were brilliant, Ron," Harry said hoarsely to his friend as he clapped him on the back.
Ron nodded his head, unable to speak all he could manage to do was beam in victory. Ron scanned the team and saw Hermione standing amongst them. For a moment in time he couldn't tear his eyes away from her smiling face, but he was forced to when Harry began giving instructions for the first practice. He tried to pay attention to what Harry was saying but found he couldn't concentrate hard enough. Looking across the pitch, he saw Lavender giving Hermione a death glare while Parvati pulled her away from the stands and back to the castle.
All the way to Hagrid's and back, Ron spoke of nothing but the tryout. After watching McLaggen clumsily collide with the doorway frame of the Great Hall, Ron walked into the Hall and said, "You would think that someone had it in for him wouldn't you Harry? Harry?"
Ron turned around and didn't see Harry or Hermione, for that matter. He strode back to the entrance and saw both of them talking in hushed voices.
"What are you two doing?" Ron snapped, immediately interrupting their conversation.
"Nothing," Harry and Hermione quickly said together. Ron eyed them suspiciously; there was still a dangerous fire alight in his eyes as he watched them rush into the Great Hall.
Hermione turned around, "Are you coming, Ron?"
"Yeah, I'm coming," Ron said quietly.
Author's Note: The conversation right in the beginning between Ron, Hermione, and Harry is taken right from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Another short conversation I used from the book is found right below that (The conversation in Slughorn's classroom), and the conversation at the end of my story, as well. I only added Ron's thoughts on each of the subjects. I wanted to put this here so I wouldn't get in trouble, I don't own those conversations, I only wanted to use them for my fan fiction. (I think I am safe now. hopefully)