Spero
Ch 5: Case Closed
I don't remember what happened last time:
I grin at her. She has this way about her that she never shies away. Her eyes always meet mine. Her eyes that are brown and warm. Her mouth that smiles almost without her knowing it. The look of sympathy, of wanting to hear, but I will never tell.
I kiss Hermione Granger not out of love, but because I can.
She's so – maybe the word is 'vulnerable'? Yes, that is the word.
"You, you … it's not fair!" she cries out, "I try to tell you and I try so hard, but you –" Hermione is red-faced with tears threatening to spill. "Ohhh," she says, frustrated. Next thing I know she's running off in a hurry and Harry is scolding me like he's Mum or Ginny.
"Great, Ron, look what you've gone and done now," Harry says with a heavy sigh as he shakes his head.
"Oh, what I've gone and done? Always my fault when she runs off and cries, isn't it?" I spit back. "Bloody hell! I don't even know what I did! I didn't do anything wrong, Harry."
"Maybe you should listen to her sometimes?" Harry offers.
"No, I'm not going to listen to her when I didn't do anything. What did I do, Harry? Do you know? I don't," I tell him, I am so fed up with her it's not even funny. Harry gives me that look; he wants me to calm down. He reaches out to touch my arm. "This is rubbish!" I say in frustration and shrug him off. I open my mouth, but there is nothing left to say, except things I might regret in the future.
As I walk away Harry calls, "Ron, don't be like that." I wave him off; I'm through with her crying. It makes me so tired, draining me of all my energy. I wish I could fix it. I just don't know how because I don't know what's wrong. It always seems to be my fault though. I'd better not test the waters; I'd probably rock the boat too much and send us overboard. She'll come 'round eventually. She can talk to me when she's ready. Hermione is a big girl. She'll be fine.
I think about it, because I can never stop thinking about her, as I walk into the common room. It's rowdy, people are sitting everywhere. She's my best friend, but she's being selfish. It's always about her, and when it's about me, it's what I'm doing wrong. It's not nagging because she loves me, like Mum does. No, it's because she's frigid.
"Won – Won ," Lavender calls. I give her a weak smile. "Is everything alright?" she asks me with concern. Now that is what I'm talking about. No constant nagging. Why can't Hermione be more like her?
"Just fine," I give her a smile in earnest.
"Is Hermione alright?" Lavender asks. Concern can be heard in her voice.
Is everything about her? I sigh heavily and scratch the itch on my neck. "Don't worry about it," I tell her. "Really, she'll be fine," I say, when she gives me a questioning look. This seems to be a good enough answer, as she gives me a kiss on the cheek and starts to talk about other things.
In the morning I have faint memories of Lavender and her soft kisses running through my head. I roll over, wanting to stay asleep for longer. "Ron," I hear faintly, then louder, "Oi! Ron!"
"Go away." I frown and pull the sheets over my head.
"Fine." I start to recognize the voice as Harry's. "I'll be around. Probably in the library finishing some homework. Don't forget, Snape's paper is due tomorrow."
"Whatever," I mumble, before slipping back into the Land of Nod.
Around noon I wake up, and this time I get out of bed. I look around, scratch the itch on my leg, and note that all the boys have left. I wander around lazily for the first 5 minutes. Then I'm off about my business; first to the loo, then back to change into a sweater and some pants. It's colder than I thought outside my dorm room. I head downstairs. With a lethargic yawn I scan the common room.
"Catching flies?" Seamus jokes. He sits at a table playing a less than rousing game of solitaire.
"Funny," I comment and walk over to join him. He winks, taking me seriously. "Seen Harry?" I ask, sitting down across from him.
"Left hours ago, mate," Seamus answers.
"Do you know where?" I ask. His only reply is a shrug. Okay, I sit in silence with him. The only sounds are the tick tock from the clock, and the sound of Seamus flipping cards. I tap my finger on the arm of the chair. Shifting in my seat – I don't know why I ask, but I do anyway, out of habit I suppose – "What about Hermione?"
"Left this morning," he responds. He doesn't look at me, just stares at the cards that sit in front of him. I have the urge to reach over and move the five of clubs onto the six of diamonds he has lying there in plain sight. Instead of waiting around for Seamus to figure it out I decide to leave and find better ways to amuse myself.
As I'm was walking out Seamus decides to speak again. "Had that look on her face."
"What?" I ask, a little confused.
"You know." Seamus waved waves an arm about as if he's was trying to find the word he meant means to use, but never taking takes his eyes off the cards. "That look she gets when she's off to do something." She never seems to have the time to just sit and chat anymore. That look, all the work she does, I suppose it's becoming of her.
I roll my eyes. "Thanks, Seamus." Hermione always looks like that. It's her natural face. Like how Malfoy always looks like a dirty little rat, or how Snape always looks like a wet dog. Or Luna; she always looks, well, loony.
I look for Harry in the Great Hall then out on the pitch. He's not there. I can't think of anywhere else he would be. Maybe the courtyard? Perhaps. The only people I find in there are Ginny and Dean. I eye the two and Ginny catches me. She shoots me a death-glare; she looks like she wants me to drop dead.
"Hey!" Dean waves me over. I want to drop dead now.
"Hey." I feign goodwill toward him and give him a nod. "Hi, Gin." I ignore the look she gives me as she crosses her arms and lets out a sigh. She gives me a curt nod and looks away. Dean launches into a conversation I don't want to be having. Not right now, not with him.
The conversation doesn't turn out half bad as he starts to talk about Quidditch. An animated conversation about Quidditch takes place, and even Ginny was participating. "No!" I find myself saying heatedly. "The Chudley Cannons are so much better than that bloody bunch of gits that you call a team."
Dean looks outraged. "How can you say that?" he roars.
"Clearly they are the better team," I hear a cool voice say. I turn to see Lavender smiling. Damn women with their soft hair; and their cute smiles; and their laughs, light as a bell; and pretty little hands that fit in yours perfectly; and their noses, nicely centered and 'cute as a button' as Mum would say.
"Clearly he is smitten," I catch Ginny faintly whisper to Dean. I shoot her a glare.
"So who's your favorite player?" Dean asks quickly to diffuse the tension.
"Um …" Lavender fixes her face in that cute way she does. One hand rests on her hip as a polished nail on the other taps on her chin. Her head is cocked to the side, looking skyward, as she bites her bottom lip. She's thinking. Not like Hermione does, but in that attractive girly way that makes you wonder what they're thinking about. Are they thinking about you?
"Tell him. Be honest," Ginny says.
"It's Joey Jenkins, isn't it?" Dean asks with a chuckle.
"He's so pretty," she sighs as she sits down. I laugh a little; she leans in and whispers, "but I like you better." I can feel the blush start to rise as a wide grin appears on my face.
I hear Ginny mumble "Oh brother." To which Dean hushes her. She tugs on his arm. "Let's go."
I'm a little nervous being left alone with Lavender. I think I'll feel it out. See how it goes with her. On the other hand, the more time I spend with her the better, I suppose.
"So," I'm not sure what to say. I look up at the sky quickly. "The weather. It's been nice."
She gives me a quizzical look. "Yeah," she laughs as drops of water start to rain down on us, "real nice." I give a weak laugh: if you can't laugh at yourself, as they say.
I put an arm around her. "Come on, let's get out of the rain."
After drying off the two of us sit on the couch in front of the fire. We've been talking for hours about – well everything! She really gets me. I follow her gaze out to the pouring rain. "Lovely weather," she smiles at me.
"Huh?" It's not lovely weather at all. It's dreadful out there. Dark and cloudy, and worst of all it's wet.
Lavender laughs, and rests her head on my shoulder. "Trust me, Ron, it's very lovely weather, at least from where I'm sitting."
Oh. She's right. Lovely weather, I can totally appreciate it now.
"Ronald?" I hear a familiar voice say. I turn to see Hermione clutching one of her textbooks. "Tomorrow, could you go patrolling?"
"Uhm," I'm about make a fuss, but I think I best not.
"I know it's not your night, but Professor Flitwick ambushed me in the Great Hall this morning – "
"Don't worry about it, Hermione," I wave her off. "I'll do it."
With a smile for thanks she leaves, and I'm left with Lavender who a moment ago was nestled in my embrace. Now I feel as though she's giving me the cold shoulder.
"You didn't ask how high." She's giving me the cold shoulder.
"What?" Girls are so strange.
"Didn't Little Miss Perfect say 'jump?' just then?"
"It's not even like that!" I can't believe she just said that.
"What is it like?" She grills me for information.
"We're friends, Lavender, best friends. If she needs me, I'm gonna come through, just like she would for me," I explain. I'm furious with her right now, but I know it, I'm not that thick.
"Right," she says skeptically. "Generally the girl who you kiss is the one you do favours for. I may have to have a chat with The Golden Girl."
"I wouldn't do that. She's not somebody you want to piss off."
Lavender looks me dead in the eye. "Neither am I." With that she leaves the couch in favour of Parvati who just entered the common room. Bloody hell, what was that? It's almost overwhelming, but on the other hand, it's very attractive.
"So, how's that going?" I turn to see Harry with a grin on his face. He takes a seat beside me.
"Oh, I'm still investigating," I inform him. He laughs and I join in as well. "Haven't seen you all day." I inquire about where he's been.
"I was just finishing up some assignments," he tells me. "I was in the library."
"Oh." I never thought to look there. Quite possibly the last place I'd go if I'd even thought of it. It's not that it's more likely that Harry would be fighting He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named than be in the library, I just never would have guessed there. The Great Hall, the Quidditch pitch, Hagrid's hut. Maybe even the infirmary. Just not the library.
"Did you get around to your paper for Snape?" Harry asks. I vaguely remember him mentioning that, maybe yesterday. Sometime earlier.
I shake my head. "I'll do it after dinner."
"I'm starving," Harry comments, rubbing his abdomen.
I laugh, hearing it growl. "You sound like you could eat a hippogriff."
He shoves me: "come on," and gets up. We leave the common room to have dinner in the Great Hall. Hermione is already there. Yet again she is multitasking, trying to balance chatting with Ginny and reading a book. Some days I don't believe she's human. Some sort of crazy Muggle machine maybe.
"Hey," I say, but am left unacknowledged as I sit down. Ginny is still upset with me; Hermione probably is too, but she's too busy to even care for that. Harry sits on my other side. He and Dean are talking about some sort of Muggle sport from what I gather. It sounds interesting. Football, I think it's called. Apparently it's the Muggle world's answer to Quidditch. I'd probably be interested in that if I were a Muggle.
Seamus comes to the table with Lavender and Parvati. "Hi Ron," Lavender greets me, with a smile.
"'Lo." I have a hard time because of the food in my mouth. I nearly choke, and with a slap on the back from Hermione I recover. I let out a hoarse cough and thank her with a nod. Laughing a little, more out of feeling like a fool than thinking the situation was funny, I ask Lavender how she is.
I've found that women will listen to you, if they're interested, but what they really like to do is talk about themselves. I nod and try to pay attention, especially when Parvati takes over the conversation.
I start to lose my sanity – my will to live – my mind – my concentration when Parvati starts talking about the clothes she hopes to get the next time she's in Hogsmeade. I feel a foot brush against mine. A little uneasy, I shift in my seat and give Harry a look. "Harry," I hiss. He doesn't notice; he's shoveling food in his mouth and talking to Dean still. The foot moves slowly up and down the outside of my leg. I give Lavender a quick smile and try to act like everything is normal. "Stop it, Harry," I tell him.
"What?" He looks perplexed. "I'm not doing anything."
My gaze moves to Lavender, and I feel a smile creep across my face. Knowing it's not Harry I can now appreciate this moment. It's not often that Lavender Brown is shy, but she doesn't meet my eyes. Instead she looks at my shyly from behind her bangs. I want to reach across the table and brush the hair from her eyes so I can see more clearly.
Merlin, what's gotten into me?
"Ron?" I hear the distant call of Ginny. "Ron!"
"What?" I ask, annoyed.
"Well if you're going to be like that, then nothing," she remarks as she gets up.
"No, Ginny, come on now." I turn to give her my full attention. Pausing, she tells me something about Mum wanting me to know Bill will be gone off to South America. Which sounds fabulous, but it wasn't as nearly as interesting as Lavender. When I turn back she's talking to Parvati.
I look around. Harry is still talking with Dean. Seamus is, I think, actually taking part in the conversation with the girls. I sometimes wonder about him. Hermione sits to my left, still vigilantly reading her book. "Still going at it?" I joke, and nudge her.
"Ronald, I'm trying to read ahead in the next chapter for potions," she says, perturbed.
"You know no matter how smart you are Snape won't like you any better, I don't know why you try," I comment. It's a rhetorical type of statement. Kind of pointing out the obvious even though I hate when she does that.
"Well, let's say I'm reading for myself. I just want to do well is all. Better myself and all that. I think you should have a go at that. Did you finish your essay for Snape?"
"No, I'm going to do it after dinner."
"Ron, you know you should have finished it earlier today." She looks at me with a disappointed frown forming on her face.
"I know, and I'm going to get it done," I tell her, putting a forkful of mashed potatoes in my mouth.
"Ronald," she starts to scold.
I'm just so tried of it. I'm so tired of her.
"Hermione, I'm going to do it, okay? Don't lecture me about it." I'm a little cross now.
"Well, Ron Weasley what would you do without me to lecture you? You'd probably sit around all day and not do a darn thing!" And just like that she slams her book shut and ends the conversation.
Putting Hermione to the back of my mind I turn my attention back to Lavender. I ask her to go on for a walk. Thoughts of Hermione and how mad she gets me quickly flow out of my head. I like Lavender, I like how she pays attention to me, I like how she wants to be with me.
So, when Harry asks me later that night, if I'm "Still investigating?" I can tell him with a grin on my face:
"No, mate. Case closed."
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