Ronald Weasley and the Greenish Temper

Chapter.1

Ronald Weasley was pacing up and down in front of the study with his arms folded anxiously. The corridor was illuminated by only several flickering candlelights, but Ron did not intend on lighting more. Why bother if things won't brighten up? He leant in, putting his right ear against the door and listened if any sound was being made. There was utter silence.

Ron cleared his throat unncessarily as he spoke, "Harry, I told you I'm sorry! Will you come out now? You know I didn't mean what I said!" He banged his fist on the door for a few times before giving up hopelessly, and slipped onto the floor.
He was frustrated, feeling like the biggest prat in the entire universe. How could he possibly have said that? It didn't even take wisdom to figure what was right to say. What was he thinking, blurting out nasty comments like that? Any lunatic ran over by a Hippogriff would've been more sober that him! He ran his fingers impatiently through his already messy red hair, thinking irritably about what he had said at dinner in front of ten or so friends. His stupid voice still echoed in his mind.

(Earlier that evening)

"Oh we're living together now, yeah, but it's only for the time-being. Harry's looking for a place downtown. I bet he'll be announcing anytime now he's got his perfect bird and a love nest, if you know what I mean."

It was supposed to be a mindless joke, followed by several hearty chortles of himself and the guests like Dean, Seamus and Neville who would understand. But when Ron's eyes travelled across the table to where Harry sat, there was no post-prank blaming smile Harry used to wear when he was embarrased, nor the preaching look he sometimes gave Ron when he thought something was really silly. Instead, an icy-cold jet of green light shot from Harry's eyes through the warm air, aiming for Ron and to kill.

Rendered temporarily speechless, Ron came so near to have poured the wine outside of his goblet.

Later that night, Ron did not receive another glance from Harry, nor a single word mentioning him in Harry's conversations with others. Other people seemed unaware of the subtle change in the atmosphere but continued to laugh and eat. But when Ron served everyone Harry's favorite fruit pie and he didn't even touch it, Ron distinctively caught Hermione's concerned frown, and her mouthing "You'd better talk to him," in a dangerous fashion.

When they saw off the boys, kissed the girls good-night and made sure they Disapparated, Ron shut the door behind them. The quietness in the house made him slightly uncomfortable. He did not know where to start.

"So… I told Dean we'll go to the game next Friday. We have free time and they have real nice tickets. You're free that day, right?" Ron tried to sound as casual as possible. There was a pause, before Ron caught a distant response from the study he and Harry shared.

"What did you say, Harry? I didn't catch that." Ron hastened to the study, secretly thanking God that Harry wasn't going to start a cold war. He spoke to him… that seemed like a good thing, for the moment. He remembered how they used to have a silent war when they were teenagers.

Harry was reading one of his work papers as Ron entered the room. He flipped over the pages with his head bowed, as if concentrating on the already solved cases he dealt with last month.

"Nothing," murmured Harry, "just say anything you please to say. I'm free if you say I am."

Ron frowned, "Is this about what I said about you moving out? 'Cause if it is, I was just joking, mate---"

"Well don't joke about things like that!" snapped Harry, glaring at Ron so furiously that those green pupils might just burn. "You know I meant what I said the other night, and you just went around kidding. Do you actually want me out?"

"Harry, listen---"

"No! You keep your stupid apology to yourself. Just because we're best friends, it doesn't mean you can talk without your brain. In case you forgot, you were the one who kissed me that night!" Harry shook his head in disbelief, got to his feet and went around the desk to meet Ron. Gritting his teeth, Harry mocked an incredulous tone, "And why did I ever kiss back? Now get out."

Shoved violently out of the room, Ron found himself speechless at Harry's retaliation. When he finally came to himself, Ron used his reflects of a Keeper and tried to grab the door before it shut, but was no quicker than Harry. With a loud 'bang!' the door slammed and was locked by magic.

TBC.

This idea of RxH just came to me while I was studying.
Nothing too serious about writing this one, so I guess Ron's not quite like Ron, and surely Harry's not quite like Harry.
But that's the point of fanfiction, right? Hehe.
Please read & review!