Obtuse: not quick or alert in perceptions, feelings, or intellect.
April 22, 1995
"Are you going?"
Hermione set down her quill with an exasperated sigh and looked across the table at Ron.
"For the eleventh time," she said with exaggerated patience. "I don't know. How many times are you going to ask me that?"
It had been almost two months since Rita Skeeter's article had appeared in Witch Weekly, letting the whole country in on Hermione's potential summer plans. Since then, Ron had asked her at least once a week if she was planning on taking Krum's offer. And with each new question, Hermione was becoming increasingly irritated.
"What's it to you where I spend my summer holidays?" she asked now.
"To me? It's nothing to me. I'm only one of your best friends," Ron grumbled, practically stabbing his quill into his ink pot.
"I don't hear Harry grilling me about my travel plans," Hermione pointed out.
"Yeah, well," Ron muttered, scribbling on his parchment. "He's got other things to worry about, hasn't he?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"But you're avoiding the question," Ron accused, pointing the end of his quill at her. "Do you or do you not want to go to Bulgaria this summer?"
"I think it would be lovely to go to Bulgaria," Hermione began.
"I knew it!" Ron interrupted. "I knew you wanted to go. Well that's just fine. Harry and I could use a break from you nagging us to do our homework in July anyway. I hope you have loads of fun with Krum."
He slammed his book shut so hard the ink bottle sitting five inches away tipped over and a dark, sticky liquid oozed across the table. Hermione swept her things into her bag with an irritated scowl and stood up.
"But I was thinking I would rather spend the summer with you. Now I'm not so sure," she said angrily before turning and stalking away.
Ron gaped after her. Girls were mental.
A/N: Hehe. Poor Ron. Actually, I think he's a pretty smart and perceptive guy when he tries to be. But he definitely has his moments… a lot of them.